Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

“You ready for this? After the last week, I’m not sure how much more bullshit I can take,” I told Ethan as I admired my man’s absurd beauty. He was five-hundred and twenty-two years old, stood well over six feet tall, and didn’t look a day over thirty-five. Vamps stopped aging young. The black Armani suits he favored made me weak in the knees. Today was no exception.

Of course, I was no slouch in the fashion department. With the Devil coming, style was mandatory. I’d put on my combat uniform of a sleek black Prada sheath and the four-inch heels that I’d sprinted to the training center in. I was ready to rumble.

My Vampyre had gold eyes, shoulder-length blond hair that I loved running my hands through, and lips so kissable they should be illegal. Everything about him turned me on, but his scent made my mouth water—clean laundry right off the line and summer breezes with hints of orange blossom and sex.

He raised a brow as he paused from searching the drawers of his desk. “I’m ready. Although, it’s never a good sign when the Devil demands a meeting.”

“Word,” I replied, watching his frustration grow. “What are you looking for?”

“Everything,” he replied, exasperated. “Are we sure we got the time right?”

I checked my phone. I put my finger on the text thread I called ‘Blade Inferno aka Giant Asshole.’ Blade Inferno was my uncle’s chosen pen name. It was heinous but far better than the others he’d wanted to go with. “Noon.” I grinned as I realized what my mate was after. “I hid everything so Satan can’t steal it. And I even shoved the Mont Blanc pens in between the cushions on the couch.”

Ethan laughed. His laugh made me tingle all over. Being dead came with positives and negatives—mostly positives, like being mated and married to the love of my life. The main drawback was that food was off the table, so to speak. I was on a one-hundred-percent liquid and bloody diet. Once a Vampyre reached a certain age, over five hundred, he or she could occasionally indulge in solid food. I was nowhere near five hundred, and it pissed me off. However, if I held up a pizza against the six orgasms I’d had last night, compliments of the man I adored, the orgasms won by a long shot.

Ethan leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his broad chest, and squinted at me. His expression was amused. “Do you know anything about Augustus and Felix being dismembered?”

I took the opportunity to sit on his lap. It still blew me sideways that we discussed dismemberment like a human might discuss the weather… Whatever. Unless decapitated, it grew back. I checked my watch. We still had ten minutes before Hell arrived on Earth. “I do,” I said, tracing his full lips with my finger.

“Would you like to fill me in?” he asked, lightly running his hands over my body and giving me shivers.

“Welp, Augustus has an imaginary girlfriend named Lynda. He’s cheating on her with a not-imaginary co-worker Demon named Poosh who he’s been banging in the latrine of the business he and Felix got jobs at.”

Ethan closed his eyes and groaned. “None of those words should have formed a sentence like that. Please, tell me you’re joking.”

“I wish,” I replied with a laugh, snuggling closer. “It gets worse.”

“Of course, it does. Augustus has two brain cells, and I’m not sure if they’ve ever met.”

Ethan told it like it was…

“Anyhoo,” I went on, still laughing. “Poosh has threatened to expose the affair to Lynda, who, if you were listening closely, is imaginary. Augustus is devastated that he cheated on Lynda and wants to move to a remote island to get away from the aggressive Poosh. And wouldn’t you know, Poosh tried to grab his bollox. Augustus was appalled by that move and threatened to decapitate her.”

Now Ethan was laughing. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but if they’re banging in the latrine, I would think she’s done a little more than grab his nuts.”

Cocking my head to the side, I was bummed I hadn’t pointed out the obvious to Augustus earlier. “Fine point. Well made.”

“How did we get from an imaginary girlfriend to being dismembered?”

“It’s quite logical,” I explained with a grin and an eye roll. “Felix and Augustus decided to ask Martha and Jane for help.”

“Oh my God, no,” he muttered.

“Oh my God, yes,” I shot back, shaking my head. “They insisted they needed to learn to fight someone with a bosom and not kill her. As you can see from the intel you were given, it didn’t go as they planned.”

“Not even close,” he replied. “Is there any kind of resolution?”

“Because I’m brilliant,” I began.

“And humble,” he added with a grin.

“And that,” I agreed. “I told them to resign from the jobs and I would help them find new ones. Preferably something in the compound so we don’t end up with an entire village of imaginary girlfriends.”

“Brilliant, beautiful and mine.”

The Vampyre Prince kissed me so soundly, I almost forgot my own name. For a hot sec, I didn’t remember Uncle Fucker was due to arrive any moment. It wasn’t until Ethan gently stopped me from stripping my clothes off and straddling him. I realized sex would have to wait.

Easing myself off his lap and the hard evidence that he wanted a little afternoon delight as much as I did, I walked to the far side of the office. I wasn’t to be trusted. My desire to tackle the man and shove my tongue down his throat was real. His lopsided grin was so hot I had to look away.

“You should come with a warning label,” I told him.

“Right back at you,” he replied, clearing his throat and adjusting his pants. “However, if not being able to keep our hands off each other is our biggest problem, then I do believe we’re fine. More than fine.”

I didn’t disagree. Checking my watch, I remembered the other situation I’d wanted to talk to Ethan about. I had one minute. “Crap,” I said, plopping down on the chocolate-brown leather chair. “There was a note stuck to the mirror in my office this morning. It was written in blood.”

Ethan was no longer ready to jump my bones. He was all about defending them. “And it said?” he asked, his eyes blazing green. The color went from gold to green when he was aroused or pissed. He was pissed.

“Illegible,” I told him. “It’s in my office. I’ll get it after the meeting with Satan. It might be a joke.”

He nodded curtly. His body was still tense, but he was excellent at keeping his cool. “Or it might not be a joke.”

That was always that possibility in our strange and secret world. We’d figure it out shortly. It was eleven-fifty-nine, and the Devil was never late.

In a blast of shimmering black magic at noon on the dot, Satan arrived. He was stunning. My uncle was only slightly taller than Ethan at six foot six. The Devil had back hair, golden eyes that turned red when he was angry, and dimples that could bring a woman to her knees, according to the lore. He wore black Armani from head to toe. However, he was carrying a diaper bag. Ever since his son Luke had been born the Demon had softened up. But I’d bet a lot of money he had no clue he’d left Hell with a choo-choo-covered fabric bag over his shoulder. The man was all about appearances.

I grinned. The visual was oh so wrong and oh so delightful. To call Satan a handful was an understatement. My uncle was a self-absorbed jackass. However, I adored him. It was impossible not to. As dastardly as he was, he was also a really good guy. The Devil, and Demons in general, didn’t create evil. They simply thrived on it. Satan was the first to blame his brother God for mankind’s evil ways. It was a stretch, but with my Uncle God giving humans free will, they had the choice between good and evil. It delighted Satan to no end how many went down the wrong path.

Telling Uncle Fucker I loved him was one of my favorite things to do. It was so much fun to watch him throw a shit fit.

“I’m here,” he announced grandly.

“Seriously?” I asked, feigning shock.

He graced me with a scathing glare, but the amusement flickering in his eyes spoke a different story. He loved me and loved the fact that I gave him shit and wouldn’t take his. He pretended to be annoyed, but I wasn’t buying what he was selling.

“Lucifer,” Ethan said, acknowledging my uncle with a nod. “We have an hour. Shall we get down to business?”

The look of appalled shock on Uncle Fucker’s face was priceless. I didn’t laugh. I wasn’t in the mood to get electrocuted. Plus, if he electrocuted me, I’d return the favor, which would lead to many more electrocutions being traded. Ethan was smart to say we only had an hour. Satan was known to overstay his welcome. Often.

“Blade Inferno works on his time table only! Not the timetable of lesser beings,” he snapped. “I am thoroughly offended.”

“You don’t get to be offended when you’re offensive,” I commented.

“I’m fucking SATAN,” he shouted. “If I want to stay for an hour, I will stay for an hour. If I want to stay for a year. I WILL stay for a year.”

I wasn’t having his tantrum. I’d already listened to a bullshit story about an imaginary girlfriend who had pet squirrels. My patience was thin. “One, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that you can’t fornicate with yourself. You need a better and less embarrassing catchphrase,” I said flatly. “Two, we have an hour. Three, if you choose to stay here for a year, I’ll make you bunk with Martha and Jane. They sleep in the nude.”

“Harsh,” Satan commented with a chuckle. “I’m going to steal that offended/offensive line.”

“Be my guest,” I told him. “Tell us why you’re here, please.”

Uncle Fucker scanned the room for office supplies, then made a face when he realized it was bare of booty to pilfer. Sniffing the air, he began to pace the room. It was weird but no weirder than the Lynda saga.

“Yes,” Satan said, circling the coffee table while still sniffing the air. “It seems that you bloodsucking people have a rather pressing problem. A potentially deadly problem.”

I wanted to point out that we were already dead, but I decided that correcting Satan wasn’t in my best interest.

Ethan watched the Devil closely and said nothing. If you asked a question, you might owe a favor. Owing Uncle Fucker favors wasn’t a strong position to be in. Plus, if you waited him out, you usually got what you wanted. He loved to hear himself talk.

“Would you like to know what it is?” the Devil inquired as he abruptly stopped in front of the leather couch and smiled wide.

I knew the rules of the game. “Only if you’d like to share.”

He seated himself on the couch, dug his hands into the creases between the cushions, and came up with six very expensive Mont Blanc pens. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to scream, laugh or zap the sticky-fingered idiot. I chose to laugh.

“Did you literally sniff out those pens?” I asked in disbelief.

He winked. “I did. I find the hunt exhilarating. Also, you shall owe me a favor for the information I’m about to impart.”

I rolled my eyes and then watched the next part of the meeting roll out in slow and delicious motion.

No good or dastardly deed went unpunished in our world. As Satan went to put his stolen goodies into his briefcase, he realized he was carrying a diaper bag. He closed his eyes and spewed a litany of swear words so vile that I’d even hesitate to use them, and his high cheekbones flushed red. It was unclear if he was about to burst into flames or blow up the Cressida House.

Neither worked for me.

“Dude,” I cautioned him and then lied through my fangs. “It happens to everyone. I can’t tell you how many times I thought I had my Chanel purse when Samuel was a baby, but it was his diaper bag. Right, Ethan?”

“Umm… right,” Ethan said, weakly backing me up while doing his damnedest not to laugh.

“I am not everyone,” Satan hissed, ready to blow. “I AM FUC…” He punted the diaper bag across the room and then punched himself in the head.

He’d been only a few syllables away from announcing he could bang himself again. Life could be tough when you talked about yourself in third person.

“Here’s the deal, Uncle Fucker,” I said, retrieving the diaper bag and dropping it on the couch next to him. “We won’t tell anyone that you carry a choo-choo-covered briefcase, and you will give us the information for free.”

“And if I say no?” he questioned.

I shrugged and snapped a pic with my phone. While Vampyres didn’t show up on film, Demons did. “I’ll post this in the group chat with Mother Nature, Grandpa and God.”

“You wouldn’t,” he said with a gasp. “That’s dastardly.”

I winked at him. “I learned from the best.”

The dummy loved a compliment. He smiled. “You’re horrible. I approve.”

I rolled my eyes, and Ethan shook his head.

“The information?” Ethan pressed.

Satan reached into the diaper bag, pulled out a pile of newspapers, and tossed them onto Ethan’s desk. I quickly crossed the room to take a look. They were tabloid magazines. Human tabloid magazines.

“Read the headlines,” Satan instructed.

“Let’s see,” I said, picking up the paper on top. “Peter the Basement Sex Dwarf Eaten By Honey Badger AND LIVED! ” I looked over at my uncle and narrowed my eyes. He shrugged. I continued to read aloud. “ Aliens Draw Penises Around Potholes So City Will Fix . While that one is hilarious, I’m not really seeing how any of this is a problem for us. I mean, this one sounds more like a problem for you… Ohio Couple Arrested For Selling Tickets To Hell .”

“Keep reading,” he suggested, admiring his stolen pens. “And while yes, it’s utter garbage, oftentimes there’s truth buried in the fiction. Take the Ohio couple. Those were some of my fucking Demons trying to make a quick buck. Suffice it to say, they are no longer incarcerated in a human jail.”

“Okay, then, are you telling me aliens exist?” I demanded.

“I am not,” he replied coolly. “However, the penis thing is pure genius.”

I did have to agree with that.

Ethan had picked up a paper. “ Farmer Joe Kills 200 Pound Cockroach With Squirt Gun .” He shook his head in disgust and picked up yet another paper. “ Bigfoot Loves Country Music .” He dropped the paper onto his desk, then walked over to the couch and sat down next to the Devil. The tension in the room was high. While Ethan wasn’t as unkillable as Satan, he was damned near as powerful in a fight. It was one of the things my uncle loved the most about my mate. “If you’re fucking with me and wasting my time, I will take those pens you stole and shove them up your ass.”

“That’s incredibly rude,” Satan replied, impressed with the threat. “Although, I assure you, I’m not fucking with you. Keep reading.”

I continued, and as I did, my stomach began to tighten. “ Vampyres Are Among Us, Steve’s Undead Fangs Found In Camping Ground Latrine In Reno .” I glanced over at Ethan, who was now paying attention. “ Area 51—Not Just For Aliens. Vampyre Remains Found!” I put the papers down and pressed the bridge of my nose. “It’s all crap and lies. Everyone knows that. Plus, Vamps turn to dust when they die. Nobody but an idiot believes this junk.”

“You’d be surprised,” Satan said cryptically. “I sent a few of my people to suss out the bastards printing the crap and didn’t like what they found.”

“More,” Ethan said through gritted teeth.

Satan raised a brow. “It will cost you.”

I snapped another picture of the Devil and the diaper bag. “I don’t think so.”

“Fine,” he grumbled. “You have a mole or several leaking information to the humans. My generals discovered that an army of Vampyre hunters is being trained.”

“Wait,” I said, narrowing my eyes at my uncle. “Why are you sharing this? You’re not nice or helpful.”

“I appreciate that,” he replied. “Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment,” I shot back. “You’re an asshole.”

“I quite agree, and I’m wonderful at it.”

“So?” I pressed.

Uncle Fucker sighed dramatically. “Nothing I do is altruistic.”

“True.” I had an icky feeling in my stomach. Vampyres lived semi-public lives with our real identities being totally secret. If we were discovered, a whole lot of death and destruction would occur. Some of the most ancient Vamps were still put out that it was illegal to drain a human when eating. We didn’t need much blood to survive. However, those who were older than time weren’t pleased with the law. They would be delighted to go to war with humans.

What they might not realize is that our exposure would mean the end for us.

“Keep talking,” Ethan demanded. “I’ll pay you whatever you want.”

For the briefest of moments, Satan was thrilled but reined it in quickly. He was an ass, but deep down, he was all about justice for his people and apparently ours.

“You will owe me nothing more than eliminating the issue,” he replied with an appalled expression at the words that had just left his lips. “And if you tell anyone I said that, I will move into the Cressida House for a century.”

The thought made me scream. Out loud.

The Devil’s brow arched. I smiled weakly and gave him a thumbs-up. Ethan wasn’t as into being polite.

“You need to be more specific,” Ethan said in a flat tone that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “Give me your reason for telling us this.”

Satan eyed him for a long beat. Ethan stared right back. Uncle Fucker both loved and despised being challenged. The Demon adored a bloody brawl. However, today, he didn’t retaliate.

That wasn’t necessarily a good sign.

“As it was so graciously pointed out,” he said flatly. “I rarely, as in never, do anything that doesn’t benefit me. That being said, if the Vampyres go down, the Demons are next, followed by the Fairies, Angels and whatever other hidden creatures exist. I’m in no mood whatsoever to decimate humankind. I find most of them amusing. I’d suggest you discover the leak and plug it. Permanently .”

I didn’t disagree. However, as with any immortal puzzle, a whole lot of pieces were missing. “Where are they training the Vampyre hunters, and who is training them?”

“Excellent question,” Satan said. “And one I have no answer to at this time. I do have people on it, but so far, it leads to dead ends. No pun intended… actually, it was intended.”

I ignored the bad pun and stayed on track. One of my uncle’s methods was to talk around a subject until the subject was forgotten. I didn’t have time for that. “Maybe it’s all bullshit,” I stated, watching his expression for any change, no matter how minute. “If it’s just a rumor, then it might not be true.”

“Where there is smoke, there is always fire in our world, Astrid,” he replied.

“Unfortunately, he’s correct,” Ethan said tightly, then turned to me. “Do you think the note you received could be connected?”

“What note?” Satan inquired.

“Hang on,” I said as I briskly walked to my office and retrieved it. It still smelled off and I still couldn’t read it. Reentering Ethan’s office, I put the bloody paper towel on his desk. “It’s illegible.”

“Agreed,” Ethan said, eyeing the paper towel with an expression that was difficult to decipher.

Uncle Fucker immediately forgot about his pens and examined the note. The first thing the Devil did was gag. Then he turned to Ethan with a hard stare and a furious expression. His eyes literally spit flames. “I was told they’d been eliminated centuries ago,” he snarled.

“They were,” Ethan shot back, equally as furious as the Devil.

I was confused. Nothing new there, but this seemed like an unfortunately large problem. The fact that the bloody paper towel was addressed to me didn’t bode well.

Satan picked up the note and waved it in Ethan’s face. “It doesn’t smell like it.”

Ethan’s lips compressed to a thin line, and he looked as if he wanted to kill something. This wasn’t going well. The two Immortals stood toe to toe and the magic and power being emitted would have made it impossible to breathe. Thankfully, I didn’t need oxygen.

“Smells like what?” I demanded, stepping between the two.

Neither said a word. That didn’t work for me. If they were about to kick each other’s asses, I wanted to know why.

“Someone, explain. NOW,” I said in my outdoor voice.

“Dhampirs,” Satan growled.

“I’ll bite. What’s a dhampir?” I asked.

“They bite as well,” Satan spat. “A Dhampir is a half Vampyre-half human, and they spell trouble for your world.” He aimed his next words directly at Ethan. “They’re illegal, and if one of your subjects is procreating with humans, you are responsible.”

“I’m quite aware of that,” Ethan said flatly. His eyes were blazing green, and his fangs had descended.

“It would be very bad for business in the North American Dominion if this were to get out,” Satan hissed. “However, it appears that it’s already out in the rags, and the rumors of Vampyre hunters are accurate. If you don’t take care of this, I will have to, and that won’t end well… for you.”

I still wasn’t entirely sure why Dhampirs were such an issue, but I didn’t like Uncle Fucker’s tone. “Are you threatening us?”

Satan shook his head. “No. I take no pleasure in this. Just fucking fix it. You’ll need one of my Demons to hunt the dhampir.”

“I’d rather keep this in-house,” Ethan stated in a tone that dared the Devil to disagree.

Satan wasn’t one to care about anyone’s agenda but his own. “Pride is an ugly way to fall, Vampyre. You need an expert. I have one. If you want to destroy your species, so be it. However, I didn’t take you for a fool.”

Ethan scrubbed his hand over his chin, walked over to the far wall, and punched a hole through it. He stood with his back to us for a long moment, then rejoined us. “Fine. Who?”

I hoped it was Lizard. I’d been in battle with the Demon many times. He was as violent as all get out, with a solid sense of right and wrong. I trusted the nutjob with my life. Granted, I was still in the dark about why Dhampirs were such a clusterfuck, but I’d ask Ethan once Satan was gone.

“A Demon named Poosh,” he answered. “I do believe she’s residing near here. After embezzling billions from Wall Street, she decided to go legit and get into vacuum sales.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I said with a laugh that sounded hysterical to my own ears.

“I fuck you not. Everyone needs a vacuum,” Satan assured me. “Do you take issue with Poosh?”

“Never met her,” I replied. “But Lynda will be a problem for her.

“Who is Lynda? A rival in the dirt-sucking business?” Satan asked, confused.

I was confused as well, but when living in Batshit Crazy Town, one had to buy all in. “Lynda’s the imaginary girlfriend of Augustus, who Poosh wants to find so she can expose the latrine sex she’s having with Augustus.”

“I followed none of that drivel,” Satan said.

“Don’t worry,” I told my uncle. “I barely did myself. Is Poosh the only one who can help?”

“There are others, but she’s the best. Rather rude, crude and loud, but responds positively to bribes. Also, make sure she has no access to your bank accounts or investments. The wily Demon is quite adept at stealing millions and covering her tracks well.” Satan smiled with great fondness. “Poosh caused quite the stir in Hell several decades ago when she pinned a billion-dollar embezzlement on an ex-lover who’d done her wrong. So much bloodshed. So many castrations. Good times.”

Internally, I winced. Outwardly, I stayed calm. I knew for a fact that Augustus didn’t have money, but the Vamp did have a dick. Maybe his idea of moving to a remote island to get away from his latrine-banging buddy wasn’t so bad. As much as he and Felix drove me nuts, I liked the idiots.

The solution was to keep them—especially Augustus—away from Poosh. Period.

“Fine,” Ethan said, sounding anything but fine. “We’ll contact Poosh and ask for assistance. Astrid, make sure that Augustus and Felix have not gone to the office to quit their positions. Pissing off Poosh doesn’t seem to be in our best interest at the moment.”

The whole situation was iffy. Trusting Demons was never the best plan, but it didn’t look as if we had a choice right now. I quickly texted the guys. I received three thumbs-up emojis, two poop emojis and a squirrel. I closed my eyes and cursed my life.

“Is there anything else you can tell us?” I asked Satan as he picked up the choo-choo diaper bag and prepared to leave.

“No,” he replied. “However, when I know where the hunters are, I’ll send word.”

Ethan nodded in thanks and respect to the Devil. He then reached into his pocket and handed my uncle another Mont Blanc pen. Satan took it with a grin, gave me a quick kiss on the top of my head then disappeared in a blast of black glitter.

The day had started weird and had just gotten weirder with a pinch of disastrous and an extra helping of fucked up.

Welcome to my life.