A Fashionably Dead Christmas: Hot Damned Series, Book 5 (13 page)

"Give me a break. Anyone with ears, bionic or not, could hear you two going at it this morning. Quit yanking on my arm," she snapped. "You know you like her. I can tell. I noticed it when we offed all those Demons at the Caves a couple of months ago."

Jesus, I didn't need this.

"I do not like her. She is rude and violent and..."

"And smokin' hot and you totally like her. Nothing gets by me," she informed me with a huge grin. "I think she's your mate."

"And I think you're smoking crack," I shot back.

My mate? Bullshit. I didn't need a mate who would joyously kill me when my back was turned. I didn't need a mate who threw Ming vases for a hobby. I didn't need a mate at all. Period. I was single, lonely and loving it. Wait. I was single and loving it.

"Not smoking crack." Astrid grinned and punched me in the arm. "Can't breathe—can't smoke. That's how I got into this shit show to start with."

Astrid had been turned into a Vamp when she went to a hypnotist to stop smoking and ended up undead. One of the strangest turnings I'd ever heard of, but what was done was done. She was clearly meant to be one of us as she was a True Immortal.

"Astrid," I said with a smile through clenched teeth. "While I appreciate your concern, Raquel is not my mate. I don't like her and she most definitely doesn't like me. I'd go as far to say that she hates me. So I can assure there will be no mating any time in the near future."

"You know, my cousin," she purred as we entered the ballroom, effectively ending our appalling talk. "There is a very thin line between love and hate."

I despised it when she got the last word in.

Chapter 3

The ballroom was filled with Vampyres dressed to kill. No pun intended. Many were leaving the compound in Kentucky tomorrow for Europe to attend a yearly summit with the Angels. I expected Raquel to leave with them as she was the Princess of the European territory. The thought of her leaving left an unsettled feeling inside me that I decided to ignore. A bare bones contingency of fifty would stay behind to protect Prince Ethan, Astrid and Samuel. I was happy to have an excuse to get out of meeting with the Angels. Angelic? Yes. Pleasant? No.

"Oh my Hell," Astrid muttered as she glanced around the ballroom. "This clusterfuck makes me want to chew glass and swallow it."

I had to agree but I stayed mum. Vampyre politics were a bore and watching the sucking up and posturing got tiresome.

"There's a band," I observed. "I suppose there will be dancing."

"Thank God. I should have invited Mother Nature. She would have twerked and scared the shit out of everyone. Would have cleared the room in a minute flat," she said with an evil grin.

Astrid's grandmother on her father's side was Mother Nature—the most delightfully insane woman in existence. Of course there would have been twerking
and
pole dancing, but there would have also been a forest exploding out of the marble floor and a zoo of animals in her wake. Ethan had just repaired the compound from her last visit. A new visit would not be welcome.

"I have to go stand next to Ethan and pretend I'm listening to all the Vamps kissing his ass. They're all vying for an invite to the wedding that they think is ridiculous," she said.

Vampyres mated. They didn't marry. Marriage was a vow that could be broken, while mating was not. Most Vampyres ridiculed the human tradition of marriage, but not my cousin. She played it off well, but I knew the derision hurt her.

"Astrid," I said as I took her hand in mine.

"Yes, Heathcliff?" she asked with an eye roll.

"I don't think it's stupid—at all."

She stopped and looked at the floor for a moment, then glanced up gratefully. "I don't think it's stupid either," she whispered. "I want to marry Ethan more than I've ever wanted anything."

"More than Prada?" I teased.

She barely missed a beat. "Yep, more than Prada. You gonna be okay on your own, my devastatingly handsome cousin?" she asked with a sly grin.

"Aren't I always?" I replied.

"You know," she said as she walked away and winked at me. "If you'd get your head out of your ass you wouldn't
have
to be on your own..."

Ignoring her, I made my way into the crowd. Astrid was insane. I was happy alone. Being mated would keep me from...all sorts of things I needed to do. God damn it, I was going to avoid my cousin for a while.

I was greeted respectfully by many and checked my watch repeatedly. How long did I have to stay? A brief appearance should be sufficient. As Prince Ethan's second in command of the North American Dominion I was expected to attend all formal functions. I grabbed a blood laced scotch from the bar and leaned on a column. I would stay until I finished my drink and then I was out.

"Heathcliff, darling," an exquisite Vampyre named Christina purred as she placed a perfectly manicured hand possessively on my chest. "I called you twice and haven't heard back. Are you avoiding me?"

She was stunning, but for some reason she left me cold this evening. We had dallied on and off for years. She was safe—wanted nothing but sex. However, sex with her was not what I craved at the moment.

"Christina, lovely to see you," I said as I removed her hand and stepped back. "I've been quite busy, but I assure you I haven't been avoiding you."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she covered it quickly with a seductive smile. "Well then, what say you we meet after the party?"

"We'll see," I said distractedly as I felt an unwanted presence close by. What was Raquel doing here? She never came to parties at the Cressida House. She was above the American need to socialize at the drop of a hat. Apparently she was slumming it tonight. My blue eyes turned green with desire and Christina very mistakenly assumed it was for her.

"I'll meet you at my place after the gathering," she whispered excitedly as she placed a kiss on my lips.

"Not tonight," I said tersely. "I'm busy."

Her eyebrows rose in surprise and she stiffened. "Your loss."

"I'm afraid it is," I said as politely as I could muster. I moved away from her. She was becoming a bit too clingy which I didn't want or need. I had my own problems.

Where the Hell was Raquel? I could feel her and I was certain she could feel me. We were in a public setting and I was somewhat sure I was safe from flying objects—or so I hoped. She was a fucking flame and I was a moth. My thoughts were wild and I wanted to kill my cousin for putting them there.

"Hi Heathcliff," a small voice announced from my shoulder. "Can me touch your butt?"

On my shoulders sat four Baby Demons: Beyonce, Abe, Rachel and Ross. They stood about three inches high and caused more trouble than beings ten times their size. The miniature hellions belonged to Astrid and she let them have free reign of the compound. They were menaces with boob and ass fetishes.

"No, Beyonce. You may not touch my butt," I said as I plucked them off my shoulders and put them on the bar.

"You no fun," she said as she dove into a blood laced margarita.

"You a pooper party," Rachel informed me as she walloped her buddy Ross in the head. He went flying into Abe and the melee began.

"It's a party pooper," I said as I pulled Beyonce out of the drink and separated the little nuisances. "If you can't behave you have to go back upstairs."

"But you need me help," Abe insisted as he took a covert swipe at Ross' head.

"And what exactly do I need your help with?" I asked as I quickly swigged down the rest of my scotch. Unfortunately it was incredibly difficult for Vampyres to tie one on. It would take at least ten strong scotches for me to feel even slightly inebriated. I was going to have to deal with the Baby Demons and Raquel as a sober man.

"To help you get the girl," he answered without a grammar issue and without suggesting I touch a butt.

"What girl?" I asked as I signaled the bartender for another. This was turning out to be a long evening—and it wasn't even the evening yet. The sun still shone through the skylights in the ballroom. They were muted with protective glass since many Vampyres couldn't handle sun.

"You know what girlllllllllllllll," Rachel said slyly as she hopped over my shoulder, latched onto the back of my tux and slapped my ass. "The one you luuuuurrrrrrvvvvvvve."

"I love no girl," I insisted as I retrieved her before she took a dive into my pants. "And if I did I am quite certain I could handle her on my own."

"Me no think so," Abe said as he spastically slapped at his lips.

The others joined his lip slapping antics and I watched in confusion. What the Hell were they doing?

"Me think you need loooooootssssss of help," Ross added.

"But if you no like girl here we take you to Big Sean's Booby Barn," Abe told me as he continued to slap his mouth. "Lots of girls be there."

"Um, thank you, but no." I said as I picked up my new scotch and took a healthy swig.

"Me wanna go to Booby Barn," Rachel squealed with bloodthirsty excitement. "Me hungry for bad Demons!"

"Great idea," I said quickly as I scooped them up and walked them to the foyer. I did not need or want their help. The farther away they were the better.

"You suuuure you no wanna come?" Abe asked with a huge grin on his face.

"Quite," I replied.

"You suuuuure you no want our help?" Beyonce added as she blew me wet kisses.

"I really don't think I need it."

"Me think you do, but it be your
hot pink
bloodbath," she added gleefully.

I was mute as I had no clue how to reply to that one. The Baby Demons were odd little creatures. However, it was time for them to go.

"Don't do anything we no do," Abe screamed as they poofed away to the strip club. I grinned and shook my head. This day needed to end, but I had still had one more thing I needed to do...

As I made my way back into the gathering I saw her and stopped in my tracks. Raquel was poured into a sexy black halter dress that made her pale skin and red hair exquisite. My gut tightened and every instinct I had was wildly inappropriate. She was surrounded by her entourage of Vampyres from her European Dominion. All men. All entirely too close to her. Especially the blond one who couldn't take his eyes off of her.

The American Vamps were paying respects--literally falling over themselves to get close to her. Raquel was gracious and beautiful. She held the crowd in the palm of her hand. I observed jealously as she smiled and exchanged pleasantries with the besotted group of Vamps. I ground my fangs and fought my desire to barge in, take her in my arms and lay claim. She shouldn't be here. She should be in Europe...Who in the Hell was running Europe while she was here? Only one way to find out.

The band had started and the music was slow and sensual. The thought of holding her in my arms without being decapitated was appealing. It would be in bad taste for her to turn me down in front of an audience and worse for her to attack me. Win win.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously as I approached and I hoped my tux jacket hid the growing bulge in my pants. The Vampyres stepped back out of respect for me and I grinned at the alluring blush on her cheeks.

"May I have this dance?" I asked.

"No, you may not," the blond goon, with a seriously annoying French accent, said as he stepped in front of Raquel.

The gasps and titters of our audience only served to deepen her blush. Her normally golden eyes had narrowed to slits and blazed green.

"Interesting," I said in a deadly quiet voice as the goon nervously dropped his gaze from mine. I could destroy him in a second flat but knew that really wouldn't go over well. "I don't believe I asked you to dance. You're not my type."

The titters were now full blown laughs.

"My Princess does not dance," he insisted as he raised his eyes back to mine and glared.

Part of me admired his vigilance. However, he was in the way of what I wanted. Not working for me.

"I find it fascinating that Raquel can't answer for herself," I said softly as I stared her down. "She was quite vocal this morn..."

"Enough," she snapped. "It's fine, Jean Paul," she assured her henchman. "I shall give him one dance."

"Are you sure, my liege?" he asked doubtfully as he glanced up at the skylights. "It's almost time to leave."

Raquel followed his gaze and gave him a curt nod. "It will be fine. One dance," she informed me as she placed her hand in mine. "Only one."

"That's all I asked for, Princess," I said smoothly as I led her to the crowded dance floor.

Her small hand in mine and the feel of her hip beneath the other was almost my undoing. However, it was her scent that made my head spin—like a spring breeze mixed with desire.

"It's quite ballsy of you to ask me to dance," she said as she stared hard at my mouth with displeasure.