Fashionably Dead in Diapers (16 page)

"How do you even know what I was going to say?" I demanded.

"Because I…because I just do. The answer is no. Your mate would be furious if you had sex with another who you thought wasn't your mate."

I didn't quite follow that. I was sure he just said way more than what I heard, but I was mostly shocked. "You don't want me?" Why did that feel so awful?

"Astrid," he ground out through clenched teeth as he roughly ran his hands through his hair. He sat forward in his chair and I was very sure it was because of a painful, and from the looks of it, humongous erection. "It's quite clear what I want, but I only want it a certain way and you are incapable of giving it to me that way at the moment."

"Are you into really kinky sex?"

His groan of frustration made me want to laugh, but his agony was real. Forget about mine. I was more turned on than before due to his chivalry and dedication to his mate. He was a flirt. Maybe she was okay with that. I wouldn't be, but he wasn't my problem. Thankfully, he was good enough to stop me from acting on my baser instincts.

"Ethan, thank you. You're right. I would never forgive myself for cheating. I have no clue what came over me. I can easily solve this with my hand and a shower nozzle. If you'll excuse me for about a half hour, I need to go masturbate. I'd suggest you do the same while I'm in the bathroom. Blue balls won't make a rescue mission any easier." I was tempted to ask him if I could touch his butt for a minute or so, but he was clearly on the edge. His eyes glittered a brilliant green and his fangs had dropped. His entire edible body was coiled tight and I could tell it took all he had to stay seated. It was awesome to feel desired so intensely. I certainly hoped my mate was as hot as Ethan and made me feel the same way.

Swiftly I ran from the room in desperate search of a bathroom. A minute more with Ethan and I would have lost all my self-respect. I was beyond tempted to strip and tackle him. Even though his words were pretty, I knew I could have him if I pushed the issue. That would be wrong and I knew I'd live to regret it, no matter how much I enjoyed it in the moment.

***

Holy crap he made a lot of noise. I could hear him grunting and yelling out in the living room. Clearly he was having more fun than I was. I couldn't bring myself to orgasm if my life depended on it. So not fair. The hum of the shower nozzle blocked out most of his sexual noises, but not all of them. He must be into the kink. It sounded pretty violent out there. He was really spanking the monkey in a big way. Wait. If I listened to him getting off, I might be able to pretend he was with me and I could have the mother of all orgasms…I turned off the shower and got ready to pass out from ecstasy, but he was done. Damn it, it was totally silent. I couldn't even sense him anymore. Maybe he stepped outside to cool off.

Totally grumpy, I slipped on the obscene clothing that The Kev had left for me. It was probably a good thing Ethan had taken care of things because this outfit was not going to help matters. I was wearing hip hugging jeans, a black push up bra and a sheer midriff icy pink top. The spike heeled black boots were hotter than Hell and I knew as slutty as I might look, I was working it. At least the brands rocked—Prada, Stella McCartney and Agent Provocateur. The Kev's wallet was definitely thinner after having bought this stash. I wondered which outfit Ethan had picked. It looked like mostly leather…

"Ethan?" I called as I rounded the corner and took in what used to be a cozy and orderly living room. What the Hell? It was a freakin' mess. The furniture was overturned and broken. The Kev's heinous blanket lay in tatters on the blood covered floor.
Blood covered floor
? "Ethan," I shouted. Something was very wrong.

I stopped and shut my eyes. I was a Vampyre and a Demon. I must have some kind of Spidey senses. I was also a True Immortal—whatever the Hell that meant. Think. Just think. He wasn't here but I could smell his scent. His fury still lingered in the room, but it was mixed with something sinister and vaguely familiar.

Fairies.

Fairies had been here, but I wasn't sure which ones. Damn it. I hadn't paid enough attention to the individual scents of the bastards. Bastard wasn't a bad word. It was a person born to an unwed mother. Not that I was using it that way when referring to the bastard Fairies, but I felt a little better knowing it had a double meaning.

Getting down on my hands and knees I crawled around the room and sniffed like a dog. My gut clenched in fear for Ethan. The blood was his. I knew his blood deep inside me. Had I had his blood? No time to figure that out at the moment. How had they taken him and why? He was Jon Bon Jovi, for God's sake and I was Pink. I thought these bitchass Fairies were obsessed with famous singers.

Oh my freakin' Hell, had The Kev set us up? Did he leave so they could take us? No. That didn't feel right. The Kev was my friend. He was my teacher—he taught me how to kill and how to protect myself. He was the mate of my best friend and he loved me like a child. He was the godfather to one of my many children. Which child? Why couldn't I remember my children? What kind of suckass mother was I? I curled into a tight ball on the floor and clutched at the torn pieces of the horrible fleece blanket until the searing pain of remembering passed. Motherhumper in a sequined boob tube. When would this end?

I crawled over to the map which was miraculously still in one piece. I closed my eyes and ran my hands over it, including all of the areas outside of the city. As my hands grazed the map I felt the information settle in my head. I now knew exactly where I was and exactly where I was headed. Where they took Ethan was the unknown, but I hoped to be able to sense him or run into The Kev along the way. If all else failed I would start with the Magic Mystery Castle and the Grand Fun Palace. Maybe after I saved everyone we could all take a ride on the fucking Ferris wheel…Fuck was now added to my vocabulary. It was an outstanding word that could basically mean just about anything. It could be used as a noun, verb and adverb. It rolled off the tongue with ease and even if you spoke a foreign language it was difficult not to understand
fuck off
or
off you fuck
or
fuck you
. As a concession, I would only say fuck four times a day. However, not knowing what I was walking into I was reserving the right to use it more—just for today.

Chapter 13

When your child tells you he has an imaginary friend, do not discount this as fantasy. Oftentimes your child isn't imagining anything. If he persists with alarming and violent stories about this fictional buddy, it's probably a Troll. Do a thorough search of your home and kill it. Decapitation works best. Some imaginary friends are harmless. However, it's wise not to take chances.

The terrain outside Xanthia proper was rough and the spike-heeled boots weren't helping. I could see the amusement park in the distance, but getting to it was a challenge. The foliage was dense and the strangest species of animals wandered around eating the leaves and occasionally each other. Lovely. The green and orange striped beasts that resembled warthogs were the ones I avoided at all cost. I knew I could take one out, but having to fight an entire pack could ruin my outfit. I hadn't thought to bring any extra hooker clothes so I needed to take care of the ones I was wearing.

"It would be easier if you just flew," a tiny voice informed me.

I jerked around but couldn't find the source of the voice. What the heck was it? Where in the heck was it?

"You could also transport, but if you've never been where you are going that could be dangerous," it said and then giggled. It sounded like it had sucked back a couple of helium balloons. I smiled even though I could soon realize it was the size of a truck and wanted to eat me as a midmorning snack.

"Where are you?" I asked as I took a defensive stance and kept moving my gaze.

"You're silly," it said. "I won't hurt you."

"And I know that how?" I asked and didn't relax one bit.

"Because I'm a Mini Elf. I never lie." Its tinkling giggle was infectious and I had a difficult time keeping a straight face.

What the Hell was a Mini Elf?
"Show yourself," I demanded. "Now."

"Keep your pants on, Demon-Vampyre. You could use some manners," it huffed.

Was it male or female? I couldn't tell. However, it was correct. I was being rude. "Please Mini Elf, show yourself. I apologize for being ill mannered."

"Do you promise not to laugh?" it asked.

"Well, with a set up like that I'm not sure, but I'll do my best." I crossed my fingers and prayed to my Uncle God. The truth shall set you free or get you eaten by a Mini Elf.

"I suppose that will have to do," it said primly. "Normally I don't show myself. It's not good for my self-esteem and my therapist suggested I live in hiding the rest of my life. Do you know how difficult it is to live without the interaction of others for nine hundred years?" it wailed.

"Um, no. Why don't you describe your looks, so I have a chance to compose myself before your big reveal. That might be better for both of us."

"Hmmm…" Everything the Mini Elf said sounded like a song. "That is a very fair and compassionate idea, Vampyre-Demon spawn."

"I have a name."

"So do I," it shot back as peals of laughter escaped from its little, I assumed and hoped, mouth. "Are we at that point in our relationship where we exchange monikers?"

"Good point." I was going to tell the thing my name was Pink anyway. "Describe yourself. Please."

"Very well." It sighed wearily. "I am the most beautiful being in the universe."

"Conceited much?" I mumbled.

"It's true," it huffed in its high-pitched tiny voice. "It sucks looking like I do. Everyone wants a piece of me. I was trapped in a motherfucking Genie bottle for three hundred and fifty-seven shit eating years. That ugly ass fat bastard of a Genie would take me out everyday and pet me with his smelly hands and beg for wishes."

"Oookay, I have a couple of questions and one comment."

"Go ahead."

"Well, I always assumed Genies granted wishes. Am I wrong?"

"Never assume. Makes an ass out of you and me. Genies are stupid and powerless unless they were born on a full moon on the thirteenth of the month of November. Oh, and I killed that asshat so good once I was able to conjure up a machete and a semi-automatic rifle with silver bullets. "

The giggling was making me grin despite the realization that the tiny thing was an insane killer.

"Noted. I'm having a hard time figuring out whether to call you dude or dudette. Your voice is kind of high and I don't want to insult you." Actually, I just didn't want to die by machete.

"Dudette will suffice."

"Great. Now, what's with the sailor mouth? I'm trying to quit swearing because my kid repeats everything I say. If we're going to be friends you'll have to curb the language." I fell to the ground as a violent migraine shot through my frontal lobe. Motherfucker, I
did
have a foul mouth. The Kev and Ethan were correct. I tried to stop swearing because my son or daughter was mimicking me. Why couldn't I picture more? Why did it all have to come back in disjointed pieces? This sucked donkey butt. Gradually the pain subsided and I open my eyes.

Oh. My. Hell. I was face to face with a miniature angel that must have fallen from the Heavens. She was exquisite. Each feature was perfect. Flowing blonde locks, porcelain skin, huge lavender eyes and dimples I had the distinct desire to pinch. She couldn't have been more than three inches high and her tiny peach dress sparkled in the sun.

"Dudette, you are really lovely," I whispered in awe as the headache receded completely.

"What happened there, Vampyre-Demon spawn?" she asked as her tiny stunning brows wrinkled in worry.

"I'm having a few little memory issues. Each time a piece comes back it hurts like a fucking motherfucker," I explained as I carefully sat up.

"Hmmm…and you take issue with my mouth?" she demanded and then giggled like a loon.

"I know," I admitted and tried to bite back my grin. "Yes, I have a potty mouth problem too. How about this? Let's just limit the word fuck to four times a day. Bastard, ass, bitch and Hell don't count because they have other meanings. You in?"

"You know dick also means private investigator. Can we say that?"

She was pretty and smart. "Sound good to me."

"Back to the fucks," she said in a business-like manner. "Do we each get four or is it divided? You get two fucks and I get two fucks?"

"We each get four fucks," I told her. She nodded her satisfaction. "However, I am reserving my right for unlimited fucks today since I have to go rescue some people and kill some others."

"Can I come? I love killing things," she squealed with a gleam in her purple eyes that made me a little nervous.

"Um, I'm not sure that's a good idea," I said as I got to my feet. She elevated off the ground and got right in my face. That's when I noticed her tiny pale rose-colored gossamer wings. They beat so fast it was difficult to see them. She was like a tiny gorgeous kind-of human humming bird.