Fashionably Dead in Diapers Page 4

  "Not possible," I whispered and cuddled up to his strong body.

  We lay in post-coital bliss for a while. A stupid, silly grin was plastered on my face. My throat was raw and my limbs were rubber. Ethan traced lazy circles with his fingertips on my hip.

  "It's a good thing my grandmother didn't come home," he said with a shit-eating smirk. "That most certainly would have given her a heart attack."

  "Hell." I giggled. "That almost gave me a heart attack and I don't have a heart."

  "You may not have the actual organ, my love, but your heart is as big as they come."

  "Kind of like your pecker?" I asked innocently.

  The look of shock on his face was all kinds of awesome and it took all I had not to squeal with laughter.

  "You do realize you've thrown down the gauntlet for round two," he growled seductively.

  "Well, I certainly hope so," I shot back. My limp noodle body miraculously came back to life and my nipples beaded painfully as I watched my Vampyre harden with desire. "That was the plan."

  "Far be it from me to mess with the lady's plans," he deadpanned as he flipped me to my stomach and raised my ass in the air. "Besides, I do believe I promised you ten orgasms…"

  "Um…I think it was fifteen." I shuddered as his hands spread my legs and I felt his erection poke at my thighs.

  "I'm pretty sure it was twenty," he amended the number and began to make good on his promise.

  "Twenty would be good." I groaned with delight as he slapped my ass and ran his talented tongue up my spine.

  "Twenty it is."

  And it was. And it was damn good. Oh my Uncle God in Heaven, it was good.

  Chapter 4

  As a parent, it is good to embrace the simple fact that love comes in all shapes, sizes and colors. Love is blind…as it should be.

  Thankfully the Cressida House was still standing. I scanned the roof and windows to make sure none of them had been blown out by our son. Everything looked fine. This was good. I was still horny, but the mother lode of orgasms, compliments of my man, would keep me from demonstrating sex in front of my child for at least twenty-four hours or so.

  The sheer relief that we had dependable babysitters was overwhelming…until we got to the nursery.

  "What the Hell?" Ethan roared as we took in the disaster that used to be a charming and somewhat organized baby nursery. His magic seeped off him in waves, filling the room and making movement difficult. Of course, my magic wasn't helping matters much either. For those in the room that needed to breathe, it was going to be difficult at the very least.

  The Kev was down. He was sprawled in the middle of the floor with his large hands covering his eyes. He appeared to be alive but exhausted. Martha and Jane hung from chains attached to the ceiling. They had been gagged with stuffed animals. Their torpedo tits swung like pendulums covered in purple sequins and they were kicking their spindly legs angrily. Gemma was collapsed in the rocker that I fed Sammy in. Venus and my child were missing.

  The ball of lead in my stomach almost incapacitated me. I sprang forward and yanked The Kev to his feet. My adrenaline levels were at a dangerous peak, not to mention Ethan’s… he was ready to explode. I needed to speak, but my tongue felt thick. Ethan would attack first and ask questions later. I had to find my voice before my friend tree became smaller.

  "Sammy?" I yelled. "Where is my baby?"

  Gemma flew to her feet and grabbed me. "He's fine," she shouted as she realized what the scene must look like to us. "He's fine. Venus is bathing him in the bathroom. He got a little messy with…um, all the games we, um, you know…played. He's fine. I promise."

  If I could breathe, I would have expelled the mother of all sighs. Both my mate's and my magic receded and the room became less claustrophobic. My baby was fine. Everything was okay. I knew I loved my child. I was positive I would kill for him. However, I realized at the last moment I would most likely destroy the world to keep him safe.

  A small pang of hurt settled in my chest as I realized my mother would have done very little to nothing to ensure my safety. Hell, she'd tried to kill me. How does that happen? I took no classes on being a mom. I'd had a tremendously shitty example of what it meant to be a mom, yet I was a good mom—I was a great mom. Yes…my child was swearing at several months old, but I loved him. I was going to do better with my mouth. At least I would try.

  He'll have to go to therapy for something I do in his life, but it will be unintentional. Maybe I'll smother him with too much love. I could live with that fault. My son will know he is loved. Always. He can tell his therapist that I loved him too much, was liberal with the word fuck, and that I made out with his father too often. He can tell him I killed a few bad guys, spent too much money on Prada and worked hard not to blow up the continental United States. My boy can complain that his uncle was Satan and that his Demon blood came from my side…shitshitfuckshit. I was going to start a therapy fund for Samuel on Monday. He was going to need it.

  "What games did you play?" Ethan asked way too softly. He didn't have a firm grip on his fury yet and I was a teensy bit worried for the safety of all in the room.

  "It was all good for the first hour or so," The Kev mumbled wearily as he collapsed on the couch. "And then the wrinkly pains-in-my-ass that are now hanging from the ceiling suggested charades. Trust me on this…do not play charades with your son until he's a grown man. Actually, just don't ever do it. I have lived thousands of years and I have never seen anything quite like it."

  "Oh my God, what happened?" I demanded, wondering what could have brought the strongest and most deadly Fairy in the universe to his knees.

  "Sammy didn't exactly understand that we were just acting out the words," Gemma said and then blanched. "He kind of conjured up everything on the list and then he just started to conjure. I'd call it a free-association kind of conjure-fest."

  "That's quite mild," The Kev chimed in. "I'm not sure who my godchild has been hanging with, but that little dude sure has one scary imagination."

  "What in the Hell did he conjure up?" Ethan asked as he scanned the room for major structural damage. "I see no real damage in here—only a mess."

  "Well, um…don't go to your kitchen or the back left side of the mansion." The Kev grinned and I almost laughed. With his new David Hasselhoff persona it was difficult to take him seriously.

  "Why? Is it gone?" I asked as I yanked the pink and blue stuffed kittens from Jane and Martha's mouths. I was sure they would have something interesting to add to the conversation. Something that I hoped would allow me to maim them. Strangely, they stayed silent. Not a good sign.

  "Yep, totally gone," Gemma explained guiltily. "But if you give me a half hour or so I can restore it."

  "Thanks," I muttered, wondering why I couldn't sense the destruction when I arrived home. "What happened and why couldn't I smell it?"

  Both Gemma and The Kev turned to the old bitches hanging in the air and waited. I knew it. I knew it was a suckass clusterfuck of a shitball idea to have them babysit. Fuckityfuckfuck, I should have listened to my gut. They were never going to be around Samuel again. Ever. I didn't care how much Sammy begged for them. They were destructive imbeciles and I should have let them bleed out and die when I'd had the chance. Well, maybe not, but that didn't change the fact that I was going to have them moved to another Vampyre compound—like one in the North Pole area.

  "Martha and Jane, I'd suggest you start talking or I will let my imagination take over and that could be really rough on your limbs," I stated without one swear word. See? I could do it.

  "Your imagination would never even come close," The Kev muttered, looking so much like the Knight Rider I had to laugh.

  "It's really not funny, Astrid," Gemma said as she began to straighten the room. "I don't think you'll be laughing five minutes from now."

  "Enough," Ethan bellowed in frustration. "Someone tell us what in the Hell happened here or I'll go all Vampy, as my mate likes to say, on your asses."


  "It was her fault," Jane whined and tried to slap Martha as they swung back and forth in their chains. "It was the fucking map she showed the baby."

  "Map? How would a freakin' map blow out the back of my home?" I snapped.

  "Good use of the word freakin'," The Kev congratulated me on not using the word fuck.

  "Thank you. I repeat…how did a map cause all this damage?"

  "Well, um…," Martha started. "I figured I would show him the pretty map when we took a charades break due to the six-headed Demon he conjured and then it all went to goddamned Hell in a hand basket."

  "What the fuck are you talking about?" I yelled. "Shit, I meant heck. What in the fucking heck are you talking about? And where is the six-headed Demon now?"

  "You see that pile of dust over there?" Gemma asked.

  I glanced over and noticed the rather large pile of green goo-covered ashes in the corner of the room. Son of a bitch…

  "I will start with your arms," I threatened the old bags. "Then I will remove your legs, followed by your tongues. I will place you in a room with liberal news stations playing twenty-four hours a day and all of your caretakers will be transvestites. And that's only the fucking beginning."

  "Nice." Gemma gave me a thumbs up.

  "It got the point across," I muttered.

  "Ya think?" She laughed and flipped her fingers at the old bags who fell with a loud thump to the floor. "You do realize they're immortal because you're a pussy?"

  "Yes," I hissed. "Everyone makes mistakes. Is there any more to this story?"

  "Please say no," Ethan added, trying to hold his shit together.

  "I didn't know," Martha stuttered. "I didn't know what he could do."

  Jane was now sobbing and Martha was rocking back and forth like she was drunk.

  "Spit it out," I snapped. "Now."

  "We had a map of the cemeteries of all forty-nine of our dead ancestors…"

  "It's very colorful and educational," Jane added through her wailing.

  "And then…" Martha's eyes rolled back into her head and she dropped to the floor like a sack of bricks.

  "What the fuck?" I gasped and looked around the room. "Is she dead?"

  "Unfortunately, no," Gemma said as she squatted down and examined Martha, then shook her head in disgust. "They showed Samuel the map and told him that all their dead aunts and uncles and grandparents were buried six feet under the cold dirt. They explained that worms and maggots were eating their skin, but not to worry because apparently most of them deserved it. They talked about how they missed some of them—how some of them owed them money. Then they started in on how they'd like to kick the asses of about ten of them."

  Gemma took a huge breath and shuddered. "And next thing we knew forty-nine fucking Zombies directly related to Martha and Jane were wandering around the nursery trying to eat us."

  "No good deed goes unpunished," Ethan said as he glared at Martha and Jane.

  "How could we know he could call up Zombies?" Jane shrieked. "Oh my God, it was awful. I didn't recognize more than half of them with all the missing noses and partial heads."

  Martha came to and curled into a fetal ball on the floor. "I tried to converse with my grandpa and he almost chewed my left ear off," she sputtered. "Literally."

  "And the maggots. Oh my Hell, the maggots," Jane screamed.

  "Put the stuffed cats back in their mouths," I said to Gemma. "If I hear them speak again, I will kill them. For real dead."

  "We got it," Jane said as she shoved a pink cat in her mouth and popped the blue one into Martha's.

  "So the Zombies destroyed the back of the house?" Ethan asked as he ran his hands through his hair.

  "Um, nope," The Kev said as he pinched the bridge of his David Hasselhoff nose. "That would have been the Gnomes and the Trolls that Martha and Jane told Sammy about in tremendous detail. Venus blew the Zombies up and flushed the remains down the toilet."

  Martha and Jane began to crawl in panic and shame from the room. I was not having that. Their stupidity was going to require a plumber. With a quick flick of my fingers I froze them and electrocuted them. I knew it wouldn't kill them, but it would wreak havoc on their perms and definitely hurt like a motherfucker. It was the least I could do.

  "There were Gnomes and Trolls in my home?" Ethan yelled. "They are filthy and deadly. How many and where are they now?"

  "Eight Trolls and two Gnomes," The Kev said with an inappropriate grin on his face. "They were fighters, but I won."

  "Did you kill them?" I asked, still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that Trolls and Gnomes were real.

  "I incapacitated them and took their magic. Same as death, but worse," he answered.

  "Where are they?" Ethan asked, clearly impressed with The Kev.

  "Purgatory. I figured that would be a good pick-up point for Satan if he wants them. Otherwise the piped in elevator music will kill them in forty-eight hours. Not to mention Mr. Rogers can off them with the Sword of Death if they get too rowdy."

  "Sammy saw all of this?" I asked and realized he was going to need a very large budget for therapy.

  "He did," Gemma said carefully as she twisted her curls in her fingers. "But I don't think it scarred him. He seemed to enjoy it. Especially the Gnomes."

  "Oh my God," I said as I paced the room and wondered again if I should find some nice normal family to raise my son.

  "There was one other minor thing," Gemma said cautiously.

  "And that would be?" Ethan ground out through clenched teeth.

  "I washed him for an hour," Venus said wearily as she walked back into the room with Sammy wrapped up in a huge fluffy bath towel. "It's not coming off."

  "What's not coming off?" I demanded.

  Venus' eyes grew round and she tried to cover the wiggling Sammy. "Um…"

  "Hi Mommy," Sammy yelled and popped his little head out. The entire room went still as we stared at my child. He blew a raspberry and waved his chubby little hands. "Me have black Penus skin."

  That he did. My baby's skin was as black as night. His hair was still white-blond and his eyes were golden, but his skin matched Venus' perfectly. Interesting. Gemma bit at her full lips and The Kev hid his grin behind his hand. Venus looked bewildered and Ethan simply stared.

  "Do you like me, Mommy? Me so pretty with black Penus skin!"

  "Yes, you are beautiful with black skin," I said truthfully as I took him from Venus' arms. "What happened to your other skin?" I looked his little body over.

  "Me like Penus skin better, so me change." He giggled and pulled on my hair as he shoved his little thumb into his mouth and slurped.

  "Well, I love it, but I would love you with any color skin," I said as I covered him with kisses.

  "At least he didn't choose green or purple," Ethan mumbled as he took his son into his arms and hugged him tightly.

  "Ohhhhhh, me like purple!" Sammy squealed, and before our eyes our son went from a gorgeous ebony hue to a frightening purple.

  "What the fuck?" I gasped and then slapped my hand over my foul mouth. My son was a freakin' rainbow.

  "Samuel," Ethan said firmly. "Put your regular skin back on. This is a fun game, but why don't we go back to normal and call it a night?"

  "Normal doesn't really come into play with us," I muttered.

  "Can me be green?" my baby asked his father.

  "Not tonight, son," Ethan answered as he gently laid Sammy on the changing table and put his pajamas on him.

  "Okay, Daddy. Me be me."

  Samuel scrunched his little face and his skin went from garish purple back to a beautiful peachy pink. My child was going to be a challenge in ways I couldn't even begin to comprehend. It was time to know who he was. Mother Nature and Pam tried to tell me when he was born, but I stopped them. I just wanted to enjoy my baby without the added worry of knowing what he was to become. However, with all the conjuring and pigment changing not to mention the alarming growth spurts and the early language skills…I needed to know
what everyone else did. To raise my son I now needed to know what his destiny would be. I simply wanted my child to be happy.

  My wish for Sammy was for him to be compassionate, kind and good. I wanted to raise a man who would be happy and have a fulfilling life and not live in my basement after college. Hell, who was I kidding? I needed to raise someone who could kick some ass and take no prisoners. He would never be able to go to a normal school no matter how much I wished that for him. He was not normal and neither were we. I just prayed he wasn't slated to save the world or some heinous shit like that.

  "Daddy," Samuel squealed as he tried to wriggle out of his pajamas. "Do you want Penus skin? Me can give you and Mommy Penus skin!"