Fashionably Dead (18 page)

“Ooo,” Venus scrunched her nose. “That could be awkward.”

“No duh.”

“He has a sister . . . ” Venus started. I cut her off.

“Yes, that would be Cathy. The Cathy that has been schtupping Ethan for a hundred years,” I said. “Yep, I put that all together when I noticed a female Heathcliff trying to kill me with her eyeballs.” I paused and sighed. “I suppose Heathcliff is out of the picture for me. I never get the nice guy.”

Venus rolled her eyes at me. “The other one ain’t so bad.”

“Why do I have to be with anyone at all?” I whined. “Can’t I just save the world and then go on about my business?”

“No,” Venus the Party Pooper said. “You are now part of the Elite Guard. Your life is not your own anymore.”

“What?” I shouted. Venus cut me off.

“No,” she firmly announced, “you cannot get out of it. As a member of the Cressida House, we are here to protect the Royal Family. Period.”

“I can’t,” I stammered, “I teach art to old people and I . . . you know have, um, stuff . . . ”

Venus laughed and punched me in the arm. Damn, she punches hard. I punched her back harder and remembered I was naked.

“Do you have any idea why I’m naked?” I asked her.

“Nope.”

“Do you know how I got here?”

“Yep.”

“Did he bring me here?” I shut my eyes. If I couldn’t see anything, I could pretend nothing happened.

“Yep.”

“Do you think he . . . ?” I mumbled.

“No way,” Venus said. “I know you think he’s an ass, but he has more honor than any Vampyre I’ve ever met.”

“That doesn’t say much for Vampyres,” I laughed.

“I’m not saying he didn’t look,” she grinned, “but I would bet my life he didn’t touch.”

“You have way more faith in him than I do,” I told her. “Why don’t you mate with him?”

“Oh, he’s pretty and all, but he’s more like a father to me. Besides, I like the
brothers
.”

I started laughing. “Oh my God, you’re racist?” I threw a pillow at her.

“No, I’m not,” she giggled, “a girl likes what a girl likes!” She threw the pillow back at me. “I like the same kind of man my mama liked!”

I froze. Petra . . . it was Friday. I had to go to her.

“Venus,” I choked out in a panic, “I have to get out of here.”

“You can’t,” she said, “Ethan will have a fit.”

“I don’t give a damn what he’ll do. It’s Friday . . . my mother . . . ” I couldn’t continue.

“What?” Venus asked.

“My mother, Petra is supposed to die today.” Venus looked at me askance. “I know, I know, I’m not sure if I believe her, but I need to go to her. I need to offer to change her. I need to save her if she’ll let me.”

“You can’t,” Venus sympathized. “You’ll kill her.”

“Pam said the same thing. Why?”

“Once a woman has borne a child,” Venus explained, “she will not make it through the change.”

“Is that one hundred percent for sure?” I asked, looking for a loophole.

“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t try to change her if I were you,” she replied.

“You’re not me.”

“True, although there is an old wives’ tale about sacrificing Royalty, or maybe it was an animal, in order to attain immortality. I can’t remember how it goes, but only Vampyres would know that tale and we don’t need it—we’re already immortal.”

“Oookay, that’s just weird on every level,” I said flatly. “If there’s even a remote chance to save her, I have to try.”

Why did I feel so compelled to save her? Was it simply because she was my mother? No, it was far more complicated than that. I was that pathetic idiot that was still after her love and approval. At least I wasn’t in denial. “Venus . . . ”

“No,” she said.

“Please cover for me,” I begged.

“Are you trying to get me killed?” she gasped. “There’s no way to sneak you out of here. There are guards everywhere, especially on this floor.” Venus shook her head vehemently. “Even if we did get you out of the house, there are security guards all over the property.”

“I don’t need to leave this room to leave the compound,” I told her calmly. She was a nervous wreck. “I just can’t have you ringing the alarm bells when I leave.”

“Astrid, you’re killing me,” she said, dropping her head into her hands.

“Venus, why don’t you go find someone for me to eat,” I told her. “Please take your time. I’m extremely picky about my meals, especially considering I’ve never had mortal blood before.”

“You’ve never . . . ” She was shocked.

“Shut up,” I cut her off. “It is what it is. It will probably take you about an hour to find someone appropriate. Do you understand me?” I asked her, making sure she understood. She nodded unhappily. “Do you think anyone else will be checking on me?” I began to dress quickly.

“No.” Venus paced the room and wouldn’t make eye contact. God, I hoped she would keep my secret. “He’s on an investigation with some of the Guards. There’s been more Rogue activity.”

“All right then, you should go.” I squeezed her hand.

“Please be careful, Astrid,” she said. “He will be destroyed if anything happens to you.”

Her statement surprised and secretly delighted me. I looked at her for a long moment . . . then I disappeared.

Chapter 16

I felt like a burglar. I didn’t want to be here. I wasn’t wanted or welcome, but here I was. Again. Begging to be slapped down for loving someone who didn’t love me back. I was pathetic, but I wouldn’t live with regrets. No one can say I didn’t try. I may suffer severe wounds to my ego and heart, but being a Vampyre had its advantages. I had thousands of years ahead of me to do therapy.

“Petra? Mother?” I called out.

Nothing.

Surprised and relieved that I wasn’t exhausted from teleporting, I stood and waited. Pam was right, I was getting stronger. I didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. I just knew I was grateful for it right now.

I smoothed down the crisp, cotton, fitted white halter over the black raw silk capris and admired my insane platform wedges. All Prada. Every thread, button, snap and zipper on me was Prada! The material felt like heaven on my skin. Being a Vampyre made my body and senses hypersensitive. I was in love with whoever chose this outfit for me. It had to be Venus, or maybe it was . . . no, there’s no way he would know I would love all this. What in the hell was Venus going on about
knowing your life mate
? I thought back to the first time I met him. I knew I was attracted to him, but was that it? Did the fact that I couldn’t take my eyes off of his ass mean he was my mate? Could you base an entire relationship on being obsessed with an ass? I didn’t even know him . . . and he didn’t know me.

I couldn’t think about that right now, mostly because my mind went immediately to an X-rated place when I thought about him. A naked, sweaty, scream-filled, bloodsucking, orgasmic place. I needed to dial down my inner slut.

“Astrid, what are you doing here?” my mother asked me.

“Shit,” I yelped. My mother was better than a cold shower for getting rid of my loose morality concerns. “You almost scared me to death.”

“Is that really possible, dear?” she asked calmly, staring me down.

She certainly looked spectacular for someone that was going to die from cancer today. So pulled together in her Tory Burch flats and her sweet little Armani shift.

Hair? Perfect.

Nails? Perfect.

Makeup? Perfect.

Beautiful, and as cold as ice.

“How’s the cancer going, Petra?” I asked her, trying to goad her into some sort of emotion. I didn’t care what. Just something.

“Cancer’s a bitch, dear,” she replied. “Terrible way to die.”

“Mom, what’s going on?” I snapped. “Are you really sick?”

“Do you really care?” she murmured. Damn, she was evil.

“Unfortunately, I really do.” I felt the tears welling.

She totally ignored my need for comfort and put more distance between us. God, did she not have one maternal bone in her body? She fussed with pillows and brushed imaginary lint from the couch. Then she heaved a huge put-upon sigh. “Look, Astrid, I thought I made myself very clear the other day. I have no desire to bond with you or make up for any of the wrongs you perceive me to have committed. You didn’t turn out at all like I expected. I have a very hard time believing you’re the one. You’re just so pathetic and weak. To put it mildly, you’re a grave disappointment.” She laughed at her double entendre.

I wanted to crawl out of my skin. My mind was so crowded with hatred and regret and shame, I couldn’t even follow what she meant. Did she think I was the Chosen One too? How would she even know about that? I wanted to run away from her. I wanted to hit her and hurt her like she hurt me. I wanted to destroy her. I wanted her to hold me. Most of all, I wanted to destroy myself for still caring about her, although I was fairly sure if I hung around much longer she’d successfully do that for me.

I swallowed every bit of pride I had left. “I came to offer you immortality . . . if you want it.”

She said nothing.

“I know you know what I am,” I continued talking. I was sure if I stopped the world would end. “If you’d like me to change you, I will.” With little left to say, I stopped and waited for Armageddon.

She glared at me with hatred.
What the fu . . . ? Would I ever win with her?

“You can’t change me, you stupid girl. I wouldn’t trust you with my life. You would kill me permanently,” she spat.

The ceiling hissed and moved. We both looked up. Could she see that? Did she know about monsters? Did she have her own?

Her ceiling was covered in monsters. They weren’t small and silly like my monsters. They were big, angry and evil. They undulated in and out of each other, like a macabre orgy. I wondered what a blast of my Glitter Magic would do to them and decided it was best not to find out. They were scarred and bleeding. It was difficult to look at them. Some had pus and sickening liquid leaking from their wounds. It dripped down from the ceiling, coating the furniture and floor. Most had horns protruding from their heads and they all had claws. Some were missing limbs and several seemed to be functioning without heads.

The ones that were not wounded were taking great pleasure embedding and twisting their claws into the wounds of the less fortunate. They had razor sharp teeth with bits of what appeared to be bloody flesh hanging from them. I may be gross for drinking blood, but I was small potatoes in the repulsive department compared to these guys. Movies couldn’t come close to these atrocities. They examined Petra with a patient hatred while they evaluated me with a hungry curiosity.

“Um . . . Petra, can you see that?” I asked her, keeping my body very still as not to startle them.

“Of course I can,” she snapped. “They’re mine.”

“Oookay.” I glanced over at her. “They don’t seem to like you much.”

They hissed viciously at her right on cue. She looked bored. Who was she? Better yet, what was she? She couldn’t be human and be able to see all this. Could she?

One of them yelled at her in a language I couldn’t even begin to identify. Petra stiffened and watched the bloody monster with narrowed eyes. Her glare didn’t affect him at all. She hissed at him and he continued to scream at her.

As he screamed he slowly took on human features. His tirade was turning him human. Kind of. A gross, bloody human with razor sharp teeth and huge claws. His horns came along for the ride too. He was massive and disgusting. Next thing I knew, the thing was standing next to my mother.

He stood about six feet, six inches tall, and his burnt, bloody body bulged with muscles. He watched me closely.

“Astrid,” my mother smiled evilly, her eyes narrowed to slits as she clapped her hands like a happy child, “Meet your father.”

Holy shit, was she serious? “My father is a monster?” I gasped.

“A Demon, you imbecile,” she snarled, “not a monster. There’s no such thing as monsters.”

That was debatable, I thought as I looked at the woman who gave birth to me. My father stood next to her, wheezed some kind of internal goop and stared at me. Beneath all the blood and oozing sores he was kind of . . . well, maybe a little . . . sort of . . .

Nope. Who in the hell was I kidding?
He was horrible. Hideously butt-ass ugly and he smelled like hell. Literally. He smelled of sulfur, burnt hair and charred flesh.

He bared his teeth. Dear God, was he trying to smile at me . . . or was he getting ready to eat me? I knew Vamps were immortal and all, but I was almost sure even I, the Chosen One, couldn’t survive being eaten by a Demon. I really didn’t want to die today. I had too many things left I wanted to do. Number one on the list was to wrap my legs around Ethan and screw him until neither of us could walk.
What the fu . . . ? Where did that come from? Why was he in my head right now? He needs to get out.
I quickly shoved him to the back of my mind and watched my bloody daddy closely. Any sudden moves and I was so out of here.