[Anh Ngữ] Fashionably Dead (Hot Damned #1) - Robyn Peterman (English)

[kenny0112]

Fashionably Dead (Hot Damned #1)
by Robyn Peterman
Genre: Funny
​

Spoiler: Chapter 19

Wandering around the art room at the senior center, I tossed out all the clay phalluses and boobs. Didn’t want to scare my potential replacement. The interviews were going to start in thirty minutes. I’d never interviewed anybody in my life. Ready or not, I had to grow up. Why in the hell they wanted me to interview my replacement was beyond me.

I didn’t want to quit but I had a few new issues . . . Daylight was a problem, although not as much as it was initially. Apparently my body behaved like a five to six hundred year old Vamp. Sunlight sensitivity wears off with age and it was becoming less of an issue for me, even though I’d only been dead for a month. That pissed Venus off to no end. Even with her black skin, she burned like paper in a fire when she was exposed to the sun.

The main reason I couldn’t teach anymore was time. As an Elite Guard I had to train day and night. Ethan was hell-bent on preparing me for whatever the Chosen One was supposed to do, although no one seemed to know exactly what that was. Turns out, training was for my own safety as well as the safety of everyone around me. Certainly my weapon skills had a long way to go.

For instance, if you threw a dagger it shouldn’t end up embedded in the head of someone on your team. I was sure Cathy thought I did it on purpose. I solemnly swore on my life that it was an accident. Not a good way to become friendly with someone who already hated me. Thank God we were Vampyres, because a human wouldn’t have lived through that one. Apparently the Chosen One had to know how to do it all. Not that they believed I was the Chosen One. Hell, I wasn’t even completely convinced.

If I were them, I would be skeptical too, but I had no intention of proving anything to anybody. Ethan and Venus knew my particulars. Neither one had felt it necessary to enlighten anyone. Fine by me. And good God, I had new powers emerging every day. Ethan and Venus didn’t know the half of it. The Kev and Pam wanted me to keep some of it under wraps.

“Damn it,” I muttered, finding a full scale clay model of male genitalia sitting on my desk. I quickly shoved it in a drawer. “Holy shit, what is that?”

Under my desk was a large pile of what appeared to be dog poop. Charlie had one hell of a sense of humor . . . I hoped. I crawled under my desk. It didn’t smell and God knew I had a bionic nose. I was loath to touch it just in case it was real but petrified . . . It wasn’t real. Damn Charlie, I was going to get him back for this one.

“Excuse me,” a child called out. “Is anyone here?

Oh crap, a child? A child was here to teach art to a class of penis-loving seniors? Maybe if I stayed under my desk she’d leave.

“Hello?” she said. “Hello? Anyone here?”

I waited.

“Hello?” She was getting louder. She was not giving up. This child did sound vaguely familiar. She smelled like insecurity and sadness—not dangerous at all. She was lonely. I crawled out from under my desk with a big smile plastered on my face. Wait. Where in the hell did she go?

“Astrid?” a tiny voice said from behind me. How did someone get behind me? I was a Vampyre for Christ’s sake. I whipped around and came face to face with the child—well, kind of sinceshe was about seven inches shorter than me. It was Paris Hilton.

“Holy shit, Paris,” I gasped. “You about scared the life out of me.”

“That’s not possible.” Paris Hilton chuckled at her own joke. “You’re already dead.”

She slapped me on the back and I went flying. Damn, she was strong. I righted myself before I took down a huge pile of charcoals and paint and turned to find her prostrate on the ground before me.

“Oh for God’s sake, get up,” I told her.

“You are the Chosen One,” she said reverently, not budging.

“Chosen shmozen. Get your ass up,” I barked. “Why are you here?”

“I want to teach art. My specialty is pastels, but I adore sculpture and watercolor, too.”

“You do realize these are seniors in the class?”

“Oh yeah, I love old people,” she said, pulling on her straggly black hair.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked, worried.

“What do you mean, what do I mean?” She was confused.

I felt bad saying it, but I liked most of the class and I had a responsibility to them. “Well, um . . . I mean, do you like them or do you like them?”

Shit, I was starting to sweat.

“Oh, I get it,” Paris giggled. “You mean will I eat them?”

“Yes,” I shouted, both relieved that she figured it out and frightened of what her answer would be.

“No,” she assured me, “old folks don’t taste so good.”

“Great. Good to know.”

“So do I get the job?” she asked.

“Okay, here’s the deal,” I said, eyeing her narrowly, “you got Charlie who likes to touch all women inappropriately. You got Niecey, who stands about four feet tall and is secretly in love with Charlie the Ass Grabber. Mrs. Jenkins is a bulldozer who likes to make whips and handcuffs out of clay. Charlie usually sticks to boobs. Niecey can’t help herself but create out of proportion replicas of the male anatomy. There’s a hilarious gal in the back whose name I can’t remember and she likes to throw art supplies. But . . . the main problems are Martha and Jane. They are horrible, nasty, mean women. I’m unclear why they even come to the class, but they do. They’ve made my life a living hell for several years and they will do the same or worse to you.” I stared at her long and hard. “How would you deal with all that?”

“Hmmm,” Paris said thoughtfully. “I suppose I’d have Charlie model nude for the class. That would keep him away from the privates and Niecey might have a better chance of sculpting a more realistic penis. I’d make sure the gal in the back never works with knives or scissors since she is fond of launching things. I’d let Mrs. Jenkins think she’s in charge, and as for Martha and Jane . . . Are they conservative, or religious?” she asked.

“Both.”

Paris grinned happily. “That’s easy! I’d trance them into only being able to utter liberal or sacrilegious statements.”

“Oh my God, can you really do that?” I asked, impressed.

“Hell yeah. I could also zap them bald.”

“Great! You’re hired,” I said, praying to Jesus I wasn’t making a huge mistake. Paris was so excited she grabbed me in a bear hug so tight I was sure she was breaking every bone in my upper body.

“Let go,” I gasped.

She did. I fell to the ground in agony.

“Oh my God,” she shrieked, “I am so sorry. I got excited and I . . . oh God.” She dropped to a fetal position and began to roll around on the floor. I momentarily forgot my own pain and watched the most bizarre reaction to anything I’d ever seen in my life.

“Um . . . Paris,” I said.

“Yes?” She stopped rolling and looked at me.

“Are you gonna do that if something goes wrong in class?”

“Um . . . no?” she asked.

“No,” I told her. “Under no circumstance can you ever do that around the seniors.”

She was shocked, “Really?”

“Really,” I replied, beginning to wonder if I was high.

“Another thing,” I continued, “if you physically destroy the classroom, I will kick your ass from here into the next century.”

“Good to know . . . good to know,” she told me without an ounce of sarcasm.

“Oh, and Muffy is not allowed in here. Ever.” I could just imagine the shit storm that would ensue if the Muffster showed up.

“You don’t have to worry about her. She can’t go out in the sun at all.”

“You can?”

She nodded. I was surprised. She was only about ninety or so in Vamp years.

“I can tolerate it quite well,” she said with pride.

“So the Vamps that changed you and your . . . comrades . . . were really old?”

“Oh no,” Paris said darkly, “they were young, but they didn’t turn me.”

I stared at her. “Oookay, you lost me. If they didn’t turn you, who did?”

“Prince Ethan turned me.”

What the fu . . . ? Why would Ethan turn Paris Hilton? No offense, but . . .

“I’m sure you’re wondering why,” she said slowly.

Son of a bitch, another mind reader? I shut my brain doors and regrouped. If everybody could read minds, why couldn’t I?

“I am curious,” I said gently.

She started rocking from one foot to the other. Back and forth . . . back and forth. I could smell her uncertainty and fear, her anger and her sadness. “Those other Vamps, the bad ones, changed everyone in the freak show . . . everyone except me. Muffy almost escaped—she’s a contortionist.” She stopped and stared at the ceiling. “They beat me for several days, but for some reason I wouldn’t die. I wanted to . . . I really did, but I just kept on living.”

She fiddled with her T-shirt and pushed her hair behind her ears. “It angered them I wouldn’t die. They wouldn’t give up. They just tried harder.” She tucked her concert T-shirt into her leggings and wrapped her slender arms around her body. “They increased their efforts. They were so furious that Muffy almost got away and that I wouldn’t die so they . . . ” She looked up and continued without emotion. “So they burned me and took turns raping me . . . repeatedly. When that didn’t work, they cut my throat.”

If I’d had a beating heart it would have stopped. As it was, whatever was in there broke. I felt so much anger I was numb. I couldn’t say anything. All I wanted to do was to gather her into my arms and rock her, but she wasn’t finished.

“Eventually they left, and for some god-awful reason I was still alive. The Elite Guard arrived and found all of us, including what was left of me.” Her sweet voice was so soft now I had to lean in to hear her. “Prince Ethan found me. I was disgusting. Anyone else would have simply found me beyond repair . . . but not the Prince.” She smiled a little. “He gave me a choice—he would help me die, or I could become a Vampyre and join his Dominion. He told me he would be honored to have someone as strong as I was as one of his people. Anyone who had survived what I had deserved to live. He said he would care for me like a daughter, and he always has.”

“Why were they only banished? Why weren’t they put to death?”

“Because the Prince gave me a gift,” she said with pride. “He banished them so I would have the pleasure of killing them. I trained for a year and when I was ready, I had his permission and blessing to go after them. And I did.”

Boy, I was getting really desensitized to death. The end of that story made me so happy I almost clapped. I walked to her and took her little damaged body and wounded spirit into my arms and I did what I had wanted to do. I rocked her like a baby while she cried.

When she finished I sat down with her on the floor.

“Oh, I’ve got one little problem,” Paris said, wiping the pink tears from her cheeks.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“I got kicked out of my House and I don’t have anywhere to live at the moment. Can I move in with you?” Paris asked.

“Um, no. Absolutely not. Out of the question . . . but I think I might have an idea.”

 

[kenny0112]

Fashionably Dead (Hot Damned #1)
by Robyn Peterman
Genre: Funny
​

Spoiler: Chapter 20

Tonight when I woke up my monsters were in bed with me, cuddled up like warm puppies—minus the fur. They came off the ceiling a few days ago, but only a few minutes at a time, ‘til now. Our relationship was progressing, what with the sleepovers and all. Ethan would be so jealous.

I had always assumed Ross and Rachel were a couple, and that Honest Abe and Beyonce were a couple. But if sleeping positions were any indication, all my monsters were gay. Beyonce and Rachel were very tangled up in each other, while Ross and Honest Abe were spooned up sweetly. It did make sense. The boys had always been far more concerned with my ensembles than the girls. They also had better taste.

Cuddling with my monsters delighted me. I liked playing with Ross’ hair—it felt like Velcro. Beyonce was a great singer and some of the sounds she made were beginning to sound like words. All of her songs seemed to be about her vicious mother. We did have that in common. Honest Abe gave me arm tickles by very lightly running his razor sharp claws up and down the inside of my arm. Rachel was my girl . . . she would play with my hair for hours on end.

I loved feeding them breezes of Glitter Magic and watching them run around my bed like tiny drunks on speed. I didn’t even find them unattractive anymore.

“You guys are beautiful,” I cooed, tickling Ross’ fat little belly. He screamed with joy and blew me kisses.

“Dadadadadadablablabla,” Rachel told me urgently. All the monsters froze and stared at her in horror.

Oh shit.

“What?” I asked, stupidly thinking I could understand. Why in the hell couldn’t I understand? I was half Demon for God’s sake.

“Dadadadadadablablabla,” she repeated. Honest Abe smacked her in the head and they all began to wrestle and punch each other. Ross kept running over to hug me and then dove back into the fray.

I sighed and wondered if their brawl indicated a bad night ahead. I had a ton of stuff to do on this fine evening and I didn’t need any unplanned drama.

I picked up my brawling babies and tossed them back up to the ceiling. Ross didn’t want to leave me. I gave him a kiss and promised to be back soon. He reluctantly let me lob him back up.

I pulled on some black yoga pants, a hot pink jogging bra, some fabulous sparkly, silver beaded flip-flops and put my hair in a ponytail. I adjusted the girls, slapped on some lip gloss and I was ready to go. I had fight and weapons training at the Cressida House in a couple of hours and I’d found the less clothing I wore, the better. First off, too much clothing can encumber movement. Second, the less I wore, the more distracted the male Vamps got. It was a lot easier to take down a distracted Vamp than a focused one.

That left me about three hours to get Paris Hilton all settled, but I needed to eat first.

***


“What do you want, Assbutt?” Pam yelled as I sidled up to her on the couch. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of my program?”

She didn’t like people to bother her or to talk or move during Jerry Springer. Of course, she was excluded and allowed to shout her head off at the desperately pathetic people who enjoyed displaying their backward-ass screwed up lives on national television. It was more fun to watch her watching the shows than the shows themselves.

“I’m hungry,” I told her, crawling into her lap. She gathered me to her without missing a beat of her program.

The Kev and Gemma joined us, looking suspiciously flushed. Hmm . . . maybe that two thousand year age difference wasn’t such a big deal anymore.

“Hello, my strudel cheeks,” The Kev whispered. He too was in fear of Pam’s right hook, frequently dealt out when anyone spoke during Jerry Springer.

“What are you doing tonight?” Gemma whispered.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Pam groused, “you people can talk. I’ve seen this one four times already. It’s not his baby.” We turned our attention to the TV. “You see that dumbass in the blue shirt?” she asked. We nodded. “He’s gonna try to choke his cheating hooker of a wife, and then that fine lookin’ bald security guy is gonna come out and pound his ass. I really like me a nice, beefy bald guy with big muscles.”

Sure enough, she was right. Blue shirt got an ass-pounding from the bald beefy guy.

“I’m going over to Nana’s house. I’m going to let Paris Hilton live there for a while,” I told Gemma. “Then I have weapons and fight training at the Cressida House.”

Did she have a hickey on her neck?

“Back the fuck up.” Pam started laughing. “You’re letting Paris Hilton live in your Nana’s house?”

“Yes, and she’s taking over my teaching job at the senior center,” I added defensively.

The Kev winked at me. “You have the balls that are big,” he chuckled. Good God, was he wearing a muumuu?

“Holy hell, child,” Pam laughed, “have you lost your mind?”

“You know what?” I shouted, “I like her and she knows a lot about art and she got kicked out of her House because . . . .” I realized I had no idea why she was ousted from her Vampyre sorority and I had a feeling it was better that way. “I know she’s weird-looking and talks like an eight year old and seems to enjoy breaking furniture, but she’s had a really hard life and death,” I informed my open-mouthed crowd. “I want to take care of her. She makes my non-beating heart hurt. Pam, you’re going online to buy her some clothes in size zero that are not black and don’t have a rock band on them. Gemma . . . ” I held my hand up to stop her before she could speak. “I have plenty of money with my inheritance and I’ll feel a lot better spending it on someone other than myself.”

I really, truly felt like I was going to hurl. I knew this was an impossibility for Vamps, but nonetheless, the thought of relocating Paris to Nana’s house seemed like a good idea until I actually said it out loud. I had to sit down and put my head between my knees. I was dizzy, but I knew I was right. I looked up, expecting more crap from the nutty people I considered my family. They all smiled with love and pride. Nary a swear word passed Pam’s lips. She put her arms out and I cuddled back up into her ample and beautiful lap.

“You’re a good girl,” she said as she rocked me. I sank my fangs into her neck. Gemma curled up next to me and rubbed my back. The Kev sat at my feet and rested his head on my shins.

How did I ever get so lucky?

***


The house smelled like Nana. I hadn’t been back since I’d become a Vampyre and had my new nose. It smelled like freesia and lilies with a hint of brown sugar. Like Nana. It smelled so good, I wanted to cry. For a while after she died, I couldn’t come back here at all. I kept expecting to find her, and everyone would realize what I already knew. She wasn’t really dead. That never happened.

I took a deep cleansing breath and stepped back into reality. I wandered around the house. It felt good and safe and real to be here. The rest of my life was spinning around me like a deadly tornado. I was having horrible nightmares about Petra. Pam wasn’t convinced that she was dead. I, on the other hand, was sure she was dead. Being eaten by Demons clearly meant death . . . although who in the hell knew. Maybe she wasn’t mortal. Maybe she wasn’t dead.

“Astrid?”

“Hey, Paris.” I quickly wiped away the tear rolling down my cheek.

“You okay?” she asked, her arms full of suitcases and art supplies.

“I’m fine.” I smiled and relieved her of some of her load. “You really are an artist.”

“Yeah, I’m not that good, but I love it,” she said, dropping her suitcase and looking around. “This house is pretty.”

“I know,” I muttered, wondering what Nana would think of me installing Paris Hilton, the violent little Vampyre, in her home. A small tickle of warmth settled in my stomach and bounced all through my body. What the fu . . . ?

“Oh my God.” I grabbed the back of the couch for balance.

“What?” Paris shrieked, pulling a wicked-looking knife from her bag. She slammed me down on the couch and sat on me, ready to defend me.

“No, Paris. It’s not bad. Nana wants you here,” I grunted, positive she’d crushed my ribs.

“Who’s Nana?” she asked, still unwilling to relinquish her weapon or her seat on my back.

“My Nana, my grandmother,” I groaned, shoving her off.

“She’s not going to mind sharing her house with a Vampyre?” Paris asked skeptically, putting her knife into her belt.

“No, she’d dead.”

“Great! When can I meet her?”

“Not our kind of dead. For real dead,” I said quietly.

“Oh.” She fidgeted with her stringy hair and stared at the rug. “I’m sorry. I can still smell her. Brown sugar and flowers . . . she was good.”

“She was.” I gingerly moved to the other side of the room. Her protection was going to kill me, or at least break something. “So anyway, you’re going to live here and if you fuck the place up I will kill you. For real dead.”

“Got it.”

“She loved me and she would have loved you too,” I told her as I dragged her suitcase to the guest room.

“I’m not really what you would call lovable,” Paris muttered as she followed me down the hallway.

I stopped and turned. “You are lovable, Paris. You deserve love and so do I.”

“Well, um . . . okay.”

“Good. That’s settled. There’s a stupid car coming to pick me up, so I have to go. But as lovable as you are, just remember I will destroy you if you fuck with Nana’s house.”

“Roger that,” she grinned.

I grinned back and wondered for the umpteenth time if all my brain cells disappeared when I died.

 

[kenny0112]

Fashionably Dead (Hot Damned #1)
by Robyn Peterman
Genre: Funny
​

Spoiler: Chapter 21

I left Paris happily puttering around Nana’s living room and waited for my ride to the Cressida House. The Vampyres were so formal with me that it was humorous and alarming. They insisted on a car and a driver. They also posted guards outside my house. I would lay odds that Ethan was behind it.

Those that believed I was the Chosen One often dropped to their knees in my presence. Most just bowed their heads. All of it made me hyperaware of how different I was. I supposed many of them were still afraid of me after witnessing the Dangling Vampyre Show.

To complicate matters further, their Prince was a-courtin’ me, so even if a Vampyre found me attractive he wouldn’t dare show it. No one would challenge the Prince. He was revered, adored and feared. That made it a little difficult to date. I debated whether or not Ethan had forbidden any male to come near me. They all ignored me, except one—Heathcliff. His attraction was mixed with frustration and anger that made me sad and uncomfortable. He refused to spar during training and went out of his way not to touch me, but I could feel his eyes on me constantly.

It was very difficult for a Vampyre to hide attraction due to scent. His lust was easily detectable and it wasn’t one-sided. I was attracted to him too, but it was so confusing and complicated. If I was meant to be Ethan’s mate, why did I feel this connection to Heathcliff? Not only did I feel this for him, it extended to his sister Cathy. I wanted her to like me. I wanted to be friends. Of course, nailing her in the head with a dagger last week didn’t help matters. She wanted nothing to do with me. She, unlike her brother, sparred with me every chance she got. I found myself going easy on her. This, of course, infuriated her.

Heathcliff was a beautiful fighter. He was strong, precise and deadly. He was a superb mind reader and could also fly. I couldn’t fly, but I could transport. None of them could do that. Vampyres were not supposed to be able to do that. Then again, I wasn’t just any Vampyre—although God knows I wished I were.

Ethan hadn’t been participating in training. This was good on several levels, the most relevant being I couldn’t think straight around him. As far as fighters go, there was none better. He was the strongest, fastest, most deadly Vampyre of them all. No one wanted to tangle with him. He fought like a force of nature. He was a force of nature. I didn’t think he would have reacted well to the Heathcliff situation. To top it all off, I had guessed it correctly—way back when, they were best friends. Couldn’t get much worse.

The car pulled up, a sleek Mercedes sedan. I got into the front seat. They could pick me up all they wanted, but I refused to ride in the back seat. I refused to behave as if I was better than whoever they’d chosen to drive me that day.

“Hello, Astrid,” Heathcliff said. My stomach dropped. Why in the hell didn’t I get in the back? Shit, shit, shit.

“Heathcliff,” I nodded and stared straight ahead. My voice sounded tiny.

“How are you tonight, Astrid?” he asked.

“I’m okay. How are you?” Small talk was going to suck.

“I’m not so good, Astrid. Do you know why I’m not so good?” he asked.

“No,” I whispered. Oh help me, God. This was not something I could handle right now.

“I’m not good because you’re very close to mating with my best friend who also happens to be my Prince, and I want you for myself. That puts me in a rather bad situation, don’t you think?”

He certainly got right to the point.

“Um . . . yes.” I wanted to be anywhere but stuck in close quarters with him. I could transport home but that would make me a chickenshit. I was not a chickenshit.

“Astrid, look at me.”

I slowly turned my head and looked into his killer blue eyes.

He pulled the sedan over and stared at me.

He was absolutely beautiful. Where Ethan made me feel out of control, without the ability to reason, Heathcliff made me feel calm and happy. I knew I was safe with both of them, but I began to panic. I was attracted to two men. Really attracted. This was so not good. I felt a little lightheaded, and I wasn’t sure if I was going to giggle uncontrollably or cry.

“Sometimes,” he continued, “if a fire starts with an explosion, it burns out quickly. Everything in its path gets destroyed, turned to ash. Then it is gone . . . forever.” He watched me closely. “If it starts out with a spark, even a small one, and slowly picks up heat it can develop into something beautiful and meaningful. A healthy fire, full of warmth and love . . . and it will last.”

Kill. Me. Now. He was making sense. Did it matter that I didn’t feel the sexual attraction to Heathcliff that I did to Ethan? I did find Heathcliff attractive. My God, who wouldn’t? Was it even real what I felt for Ethan? Would we crash and burn? Did I really want to be part of the Royal Family? It was hard enough to make friends just being the Chosen One. Heathcliff was attracted to me before he knew I was the Chosen One, but his motives could be suspect too.

“Is this about your sister?” I asked, praying it wasn’t.

“What are you talking about?”

“Are you trying to take me out of the running so Cathy can still be with him?”

“Again,” he said, looking at me like I was nuts, “what are you talking about?”

“Don’t your sister and Ethan . . . ” I trailed off.

“Do my sister and Ethan have ***? Is that what you’re asking?” I could feel him staring at me. I looked at the floor. “The answer is yes, occasionally, from what I understand . . . ” He stopped, debating whether to go on. He went on, “ . . . with the knowledge that when they find their true mates, their relationship is over and they will become friends.” I knew he didn’t want to tell me any of that. “My sister can look out for herself. Trust me, my intentions toward you have nothing to do with my sister. My intentions have everything to do with me and how I feel about you.”

“Are you asking me to mate with you?” I whispered.

“No,” he said, taking my hands in his, “not yet. I’m asking you to give me a chance. I’m asking you not to mate with anyone yet.” His eyes burned a shimmering green. “We have a connection. It may not be as crazy as the other one, but it’s real and it cannot be ignored. I just want you to give me a chance.”

Damn Vampyres, they were so beautiful it was hard to deny them anything. This one was making too much sense.

“I’m . . . I wish . . . ” What in the hell was I trying to say?

He smiled gently at me. “I’m so sorry to hear about your mother.”

“Thank you,” I murmured. He was probably the sweetest man I’d ever met, apart from The Kev. Kind, gentle, good and so pretty . . . I think he’s prettier than me.

“That’s not possible,” he smiled with those dimples. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Shitfire. Mind readers.

“Heathcliff, that’s not fair,” I laughed and quickly closed the doors in my head. His spicy, brown-sugary scent was making me feel a little slaphappy.

He chuckled, “I love how you say my name, and just so you know, I’m not always nice.” He smiled a killer sexy smile and I was glad I was sitting, because I felt my knees go a little weak. “Anyway, all’s fair in love and war.”

“How old were you when your mom died?” I asked, abruptly changing the subject.

“I was eight and Cathy was three,” he told me, pulling back a bit at the unexpected detour.

“Do you remember her?”

“Yes, I remember her well. She was beautiful inside and out. She had wild, dark curly hair and sky blue eyes. She had a lovely mouth, kissed us constantly, and she sang like the angels in Heaven.”

“She reminds me of my Nana,” I said wistfully.

“Your Nana?”

“My mom’s mom,” I sighed. “I adored her. She raised me. Not my mom. My mother was . . . um . . . .well, not so much into being a mother. Your mom sounds a lot like my Nana, right down to the singing voice of an angel.”

“Where is she? I’d love to meet her,” Heathcliff said.

“She died last fall.” I looked down and fiddled with my yoga pants. When I looked up he was staring at me so intently, if I still had breath it would have caught in my throat.

“You’ve had quite a few changes this year,” he said, reaching out to touch my face. If that wasn’t the understatement of the century.

I laid my hand over his as he placed it on my cheek. “Heathcliff, why do women die during the change if they’ve borne a child?”

“We don’t know. It may have something to do with the fact that a mother is from the light. She has created life and we are from the dark,” he said slowly, “but it’s a bad death . . . very prolonged and very painful.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Vampyres were not organized for thousands of years. It’s only in the last three hundred years or so that we have become internationally connected. We didn’t share information. We lived in hiding for the most part and our government, The Royal Family, was only accepted as law by some.”

He slid his hand down my face and arm and gently took my hand in his. “Many Vampyres tried to change their mortal wives only to have devastatingly tragic results, but they didn’t know. Many Vampyres . . . ” he paused, debating how much to say. “Many Vampyres who inadvertently killed their wives harbor a great resentment to our King.”

“Why?” I wasn’t following.

“Because he knew about this, yet he never spoke of it. The King’s first wife was Queen Paloma. She’s the mother of Princess Lelia, the Monarch of Africa.” The gorgeous Betsy Johnson wearing Vamp who wanted to kill me in the graveyard. “He loved her above all the others. She was strong and fun-loving as the stories go. She could hold her spirits well and trade stories with the men that would make them blush. She wanted the King to change her. She loved him so fiercely that she wanted to spend eternity with him, and he with her. They did it in secrecy. Her death was horrific and went on for several weeks . . . weeks filled with excruciating agony. The King wanted to kill himself, but she would not hear of it. She made him promise to go on, vowing to come back to him someday.”

“Has she come back?”

“Not yet,” Heathcliff said sadly. “He still waits for her. After her death, the King was so devastated he told no one for one hundred years what they had done or how it turned out. He never tried to change another one of his wives.”

“He had multiple wives?” Holy shit, did Ethan have a bunch of wives too?

“Yes, that was an acceptable practice then, but most Vampyres practice monogamy, and when they find their true mate the point of multiple lovers is moot anyway.”

Thank you, Jesus. “Did any of them know why he wouldn’t change them?” I was fascinated.

“No, and some were filled with great anger because of this. He changed all eleven of his children, but none of his wives. One of his wives in particular tried repeatedly to get him to change her. She resorted to begging, then eventually blackmail and attempts on his life.”

“Oh my God.” This was better than Jerry Springer. “What happened to her?” I asked.

“She was banished, and died after a while. It was her child who was supposedly killed,” he said.

“Do you think the King did it?” I loved me some Jerry Springer behavior.

“No, absolutely not,” Heathcliff said. “He loves all of his children to distraction. He searched for over a hundred years for Juliet. He still holds out hope that she is alive.”

“God, that’s sad . . . and weird,” I said.

“I’ve always found it odd that we have never found proof of her death,” he said.

God, he smelled good. “Well, it would be awfully difficult to hide for five hundred years, dontcha think?”

“That would depend on your gifts.” He tilted his head to the side and looked me up and down slowly. “Someone like you could get away with a lot.” His eyes twinkled.

“Whatever do you mean?” Was I flirting? Yep, I was flirting.

“Well,” he said and moved toward me, “if you didn’t want to be somewhere, you could transport.” He kept moving closer. His scent was making me giddy. “For example,” he inched forward, “if you didn’t want to be here, with me . . . right now . . . in this car . . . wearing very little . . . ” His eyes flashed green as they roamed my body. “You could disappear,” he whispered.

Our lips were mere inches apart.

He was right. I could disappear, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to be here in this moment with him. The gorgeous green of his eyes was almost making me forget about Ethan. Almost. I’m not sure a tsunami would make me forget about Ethan. I felt a bit like I was cheating, but Heathcliff was right. We did have a connection and it was strong. I owed it to myself and to him to find out what it meant.

“I want to give you a chance,” I whispered. I felt my eyes go green. He grinned at me with those killer dimples. Those dimples could make a girl faint.

We leaned into each other very slowly, eyes locked, and we kissed. His lips were warm and soft and sweet. He cradled my head in his hands and deepened the kiss. He definitely knew what he was doing. I kissed him back, but . . .

We pulled apart and looked at each other in surprise.

“Let me try that again,” he said, trying to mask his confusion.

“Okay,” I agreed, re-situating myself so our bodies were closer. Maybe that was the problem. He leaned in and I let my lips part underneath his. I wrapped my arms around him and tried pressing my body into his.

Oh. My. God. Who was laughing? What the fu . . . ? It was me. I was laughing? Wait . . . he was laughing. Thank God it wasn’t me. Wait . . . Why in the hell is he laughing? Did I kiss funny? Shit, I was laughing. We were both laughing.

Clearly this is not working.

“What in the hell was that?” Heathcliff leaned back in his seat, still laughing and put his hands over his eyes.

“I don’t know,” I giggled.

“I felt like I was kissing my sister,” he groaned.

“Me too,” I said, punching him in the arm.

“I feel like your sister?” he asked, mortified.

“No,” I stammered, trying to suppress laughter, “not my sister . . . my brother.”

“Oookay,” Heathcliff said, “clearly our connection is not sexual.”

“Nope,” I agreed, “it’s not.”

“What is it then?” He searched my face for answers.

“I have no idea, but the connection is there. It’s real and it feels good.”

“Maybe we’re supposed to be friends,” he said quietly.

“Yes, but it’s more than that . . . although it’s definitely not lovers,” I said, wishing I knew exactly what I meant.

He smiled, but it was sad. “Definitely not lovers,” he agreed. He took my hand in his and he squeezed it. This time there was nothing sexual behind it.

“Whoever you fall in love with will be the luckiest woman in the world,” I told him.

“Ahhh, but she won’t get my whole heart,” he said. “A part of it shall always belong to you.”

I wanted to cry. Why in the hell do I never end up with the nice guy?

Heathcliff chuckled, “Astrid, your brain doors are open.”

“Crap.”

“Astrid, just so you know, Ethan is a nice guy. He’s one of the best. He is the finest man I know.”

I looked down. I didn’t want to discuss Ethan with him. I had no idea what I was going to do about Ethan. Even though there was nothing romantic between Heathcliff and me, he’d given me a lot to think about where Ethan was concerned. Nice guy or no, Ethan and I might be too combustible.

Heathcliff took my chin in his hand and gently lifted my face up to his. “We are connected. I believe we are connected for eternity,” he said. “We will care for each other, we will have each other’s backs, and we will never betray one another. We will love each other as brother and sister.”

He pulled a small dagger from his boot and sliced his palm. I took his dagger and did the same. We joined hands and we mixed our blood. It was right.

Afterwards I wrapped my arms around him and laid my head on his chest. “How’s Cathy going to feel about this?” I asked.

I felt his body shudder at the thought. “She’ll get used to it. Eventually.”

 

[kenny0112]

Fashionably Dead (Hot Damned #1)
by Robyn Peterman
Genre: Funny
​

Spoiler: Chapter 22

Fight training at the Cressida House was ugly and painful. The training facilities were top notch, including a huge gym with every machine known to man. There was a boxing ring and a three mile indoor circular running track.

The training center also encompassed a very large empty area covered in mats for sparring. There was an observation deck on the north wall about forty feet up. It was accessible from an outside set of stairs. One building contained a shooting range and a cavernous room filled with weapons—swords, daggers, katanas, throwing stars, guns and then some.

The weapons building also housed an area used for knife throwing. I spent many hours there after I nailed Cathy in the head. Thank you Jesus, I was getting more proficient with daggers and swords. I really didn’t want to kill one of my comrades by accident.

After the car kissing debacle, Heathcliff decided it was okay to spar with me. That would have been fine, but the son of a bitch punched as hard as The Kev. If I didn’t have healing powers, I’d be dead on the floor. After the third punch to my head, which may have caused brain damage, I understood why he was in charge of the Elite Guard.

“Are you okay?” Venus whispered as she pulled me to my feet.

“Fucking awesome,” I muttered, getting up for another round. I was going to wipe the floor with Heathcliff’s ass soon. I just needed to live through his attempt at wiping the floor with mine.

Venus, much to my great delight and relief, was also chosen to be a new Guard. She was present along with the other new recruits. None of them really spoke to me. Actually, most of the Vamps in general stayed away from me. I couldn’t tell if they were scared of me or just showing respect to the Chosen One. Whatever it was, it made me feel bad.

The majority of the existing Guard, including Ethan, was out on patrol, but several were here to put us through our paces. Cathy, looking thrilled to see me, was here along with Samuel, Luke and David. I loved that all the senior male Guards had Biblical names. I wondered if that was a requirement.

The veterans stretched us. While that may sound lovely, it wasn’t. It was freakin’ excruciating. Having a two hundred and thirty pound Vampyre push your leg up over your head with all his weight behind it sucked. Bad.

“Son of a bitch, Samuel,” I grunted. “That kills.”

“Not as much as the razor stubble on your leg is killin’ me,” he laughed and pushed harder.

“You’re a shithat,” I shouted through the pain. I was sure Samuel was going to pull one of my legs out of the socket and right off my body.

“What the fuck is a shithat?” he asked, truly puzzled.

“I have no clue,” I moaned as he yanked my body into a pretzel.

Not everyone was intimidated by me, and Samuel certainly wasn’t. I think that’s why I liked him so much. He couldn’t have cared less if I were Queen of the World or just some random Vamp off the street.

He was a big, good-looking guy with mocha skin, spiky black hair and long, lean muscles. His nose was a little crooked and he had a wonderful jagged scar that ran along his left cheekbone. It made him look dangerous. Hell, he was dangerous. They all were. He had intelligent dark brown eyes, the speed of a cheetah, a beautiful smile and an infectious laugh. Everyone loved Samuel, especially the ladies, from what I understood. He took great pleasure in repeatedly explaining to me that the Chosen One should be able to kick his ass. Clearly that hadn’t happened yet.

“You are such a pussy,” Samuel yelled gleefully as he put me in a chokehold.

“You are a son of a bitch, Asshat,” I tried to yell back, but it came out all muffled due to my head being trapped in his armpit.

“God,” he shouted, “you are the wimpiest recruit I’ve had in over ninety years.”

He forcefully threw me to the mat. As he was about to body slam me, I quickly rolled to my left, hopped up and gave him a round house kick to the head. He staggered back, grinning like an idiot.

I realized I was grinning like an idiot too. Who knew violence could be so much fun? “I’ve had about enough of your shit, you dress-wearin’, backward-ass momma’s boy,” I panted, egging him on.

“Ooooo, sticks and stones . . . ” he yelled and flipped me off, still grinning from ear to ear.

He ran at me with speed that almost made him disappear . . . almost. I dropped down to my right. I threw my leg out and undercut him, sending him flying. He landed with a thud on his back. With swift aggression I didn’t know I possessed I pinned him and elbow slammed him in the face. The crunch was horrific and blood spurted everywhere. Samuel moaned and rolled around on the floor as he tried to adjust his nose and realign his cheekbones and eye sockets.

“Oh my God,” I screamed and dropped to the ground to help him. “I am so sorry.”

He was laughing. He grabbed me in a bear hug and bled all over me. “I am so proud of you,” he gurgled through the blood. “You are finally close to kicking my ass.”

“I’d say that was more than close.” I was so relieved that he wasn’t mad or dead.

“Astrid, you have to stop holding back,” he said. It was difficult to take him seriously with all the blood gushing from his face.

“Samuel, you’re my friend. I don’t have too many of those and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You can’t, Astrid,” he smiled, wiping his blood off of my face. “Short of you setting me on fire, removing my head or putting a silver stake through my heart, you can’t permanently hurt me. We’re Vampyres. We heal.” He ruffled my hair and pulled me to my feet. I was amazed at how quickly his face was mending back together.

“How old are you, Samuel?” I asked. He had to be old to heal that fast.

“One thousand and three.”

“Holy shit, you’re older than dirt!”

“That’s right, little girl, and I have been waiting for the Chosen One for a long time. I assumed when he or she came along, I’d finally find a good fighting partner. But noooo,” he laughed. “Who knew she’d be such a fucking weak little peckerhead?”

“That’s it,” I yelled, putting Samuel into a headlock and swinging him around like a doll. “I’ve had enough of your shit, you redneck jackass.” I threw him across the room with such force I knew I broke both of his legs and possibly his back.

When and how did I become so violent . . . and when did I start to enjoy it?

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” he grinned through his excruciating pain and gave me a thumbs-up. “If I were the real bad guy, you would have incapacitated me enough to stake me or decapitate me. I am so proud of you!”

I smiled at my crazy, very injured friend. I was sure it would take him at least a day to recover from what I had just done. I ran over and propped him gently against the wall. He squeezed my hand with pride and I kissed him on the forehead. I was torn between feeling really bad and really good. I turned to find the rest of the Vampyres in the room gaping at me in shock. Fucktard . . . they all wanted a piece of me now. I looked around and made eye contact with each one of them. It was do or die time . . .

“Who’s next?” I asked.

Cathy stepped forward. “I am.”

I looked down at the floor and took a moment to regroup. If I had thought it through, I wouldn’t have asked that question. I would have challenged Luke or David or even Heathcliff, but I didn’t think and now I was stuck. Samuel gave me a gentle push toward the mat. I looked to Heathcliff and he nodded.

Cathy intercepted the look and grunted in disgust. “Come on, you stupid holier-than-thou bitch. Come and try to get a piece of me.” She was crazy. “Your silly little outfit won’t distract me, dear,” she said, looking pointedly at her brother.

There was power in stillness, so I walked to the center of the mat and waited. I stood quietly and claimed my space. Cathy circled me, dissipating her energy because of her anger and pride. I kept my eyes on her and my knees slightly bent, ready to spring.

The fighting techniques that we had to master were a mixture of martial arts and pure brute strength. One of the favorites included Dim Mak, also known as the Death Touch. This technique would kill a mortal instantly, but didn’t kill Vampyres. It could knock them out or delay their reaction, which provided valuable staking or decapitating time. Iaido involved swords, specifically the katana. Ninjutsu involved throwing knives and stars. That was the one I had a little trouble with—just ask Cathy. And then there was my favorite, Capoeira, which was very dance-like yet still very aggressive.

Katanas, throwing stars and daggers seemed to be the weapons of choice, but we had to be excellent marksmen too. Guns were not considered honorable, but Vampyres were very practical. Unfortunately, in today’s world they were necessary. Several of the older Guards, my buddy Samuel included, were outstanding archers. However, I had tricks up my sleeves that they weren’t aware of. That was why I fought so hard not to lose control. I was fairly sure I could kill every Vampyre in this room with Magic, and I really wished that was not the case. I didn’t want the responsibility that came with my power.

Thankfully, The Kev had taught me how to separate Kill Magic from Damage Magic. It wasn’t easy. I had accidentally killed a robin in my backyard when I was practicing and I cried for three hours. Let me assure you, it wasn’t a pleasant death for the bird. I was positive whoever decided that I was the Chosen One had made a terrible mistake. If I had trouble killing a bird . . . I refused to finish the rest of the thought.

The Kev assured me that a killing machine that was capable of compassion, like me, would be one of the ultimate warriors of all time. I didn’t understand his logic, but I prayed he was right. I had a bad feeling about whatever trouble was headed my way. I had no idea if I would be up to the challenge.

Cathy was getting impatient and I let her. Too much aggression led to carelessness and mistakes. She should know better. “I know why you’re holding back,” she jeered.

I just stared.

“You’re afraid of me,” she smiled. It wasn’t pretty. “You know if you give it your all and I win . . . which I will . . . you’re nothing. You’re less than nothing, and Ethan will soon know it.”

Several of the Vamps in the room laughed uncomfortably.

I stayed silent.

“Are you going to fight me this time, Angel?” All the Elite Guard gasped. Ethan was the only one allowed to call me Angel. I couldn’t have given a shit, but the fact that she said it was serious business. No one messed around with the Prince’s edicts. She clearly had a death wish.

I didn’t want to hurt her. I knew she would heal, but for some reason hurting her was abhorrent to me. She clearly didn’t feel the same way. Why on earth I felt protective of her was beyond me. It wasn’t about Ethan anymore, and it certainly wasn’t because she was sweet or defenseless. Maybe it was because she smelled so similar to Heathcliff. I suppose scent ran in the family. I couldn’t figure out my reticence.

“Jealousy is ugly,” I told her calmly. My plan was to set her up, piss her off, let her pound on me and be done with it. I would not fight back.

“You bitch,” she screamed, attacking and knocking me to the ground. One of her hands was around my throat and the other was slapping me viciously across the face. “Fight me,” she growled. “Damn you . . . fight me,” she begged.

She was crazed and desperate. I could feel blood dripping from my lip and my eye was swelling shut. God, that hurt. I looked into her eyes. She needed to fight me more than I needed to not hurt her. Fine. She wanted a piece of me? A piece of me she would get.

I turned over and flipped her off of me. I flicked my fingers and sent her flying across the room at about fifty miles an hour. She hit a huge stack of chairs. It sounded like a bomb going off, echoing ominously throughout the room. I was sure that couldn’t have felt good, but she was right back up and coming at me like a runaway freight train. She was so angry, it made her sloppy. I sidestepped her and gut punched her at the same time. It was a little difficult to see with one eye swollen shut and the other on the way there, but I hit my target. Hard.

She roared in frustration and pulled two very sharp, curved daggers from her belt. I was assuming they were steel and not silver. We weren’t allowed to use silver during practice, but who the hell knew with Cathy? Silver was extremely painful for us, and of course deadly if run through the heart. I could stick steel or wood or copper straight through my heart over and over and not die, but silver . . . not so much. I quickly protected myself. I touched my hands to my chest and a glittery breeze shot out all around me, shielding me from all weapons including bullets. I heard Heathcliff gasp. I caught his eye for a moment and he stared at me in awe.

Cathy screamed and threw down her weapons. “What, you can’t fight the normal way, you whore?”

She did not just call me a whore. I was a lot of things, but a whore was not one of them.

She was on my last nerve. I needed to take her ass down before my other eye swelled shut. I released the protection wall around me with a flick of my fingers. I did an aerial cartwheel right into her and scissor-kicked her in the head, taking her down to the floor before she even knew I moved.

I pinned her face down on the mat. I held her arms twisted behind her back and I dug my knees viciously into her hamstrings. As she screamed in agony I leaned down and head-butted her. Shit, that hurt. Whatever. It made her shut up.

I leaned over and whispered to her, “I am not a whore. Maybe a bitch, but definitely not a whore. I would suggest you remember that in the future, Cathy.”

She tried to spit at me, but missed. “You’ll kill him.” She was crying.

“What are you talking about?” I hissed. She was starting to piss me off.

“If you mate with him, you’ll kill him.”

“Yeah, I heard that part,” I barked. “What in the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re the Chosen One,” she grunted. “Vampyres and Demons and God knows what else will try to kill you for the rest of eternity.”

“So what?” I yelled, twisting her arms tighter and pulling her shoulder out of the socket.

Whoops.

“If you mate with Ethan and you die, he does too, you stupid, selfish bitch,” she gasped in hellish pain.

That stopped me. I let go of her and kicked her torn and battered body away from me. Why hadn’t anybody told me that? That couldn’t be right.

I slowly turned to Heathcliff. “Is that true?” I asked so calmly that I scared the hell out of everyone. I couldn’t see him clearly through the swelling and the blood. I had split my scalp open when I head-butted Cathy and blood was running down my swollen face. This was definitely not my best look.

“Is it?” I yelled.

“Yes,” Heathcliff said, “it is.”

“Why in the hell do you people have so many goddamn stupid rules?”

Heathcliff looked down at the floor along with the rest of the Vamps in the room.

Well, my little Demons had been correct . . . this had turned out to be a clusterfuck of a day.

 

[kenny0112]

Fashionably Dead (Hot Damned #1)
by Robyn Peterman
Genre: Funny
​

Spoiler: Chapter 23

I vaguely recalled Heathcliff carrying me to Venus’ room. I knew I had collapsed, what with the blood loss and all my new stress. Venus helped me undress and bathed me. I was too tired and too weak, plus one of my eyes was still swollen shut.

Venus’ room was cozy and inviting. She favored shabby chic—big overstuffed furniture in soft cottons and fuzzy chenilles mixed with thick crushed velvets. The patterns were faded cabbage roses in peaches and pale pinks mixed up with equally faded tulips and daisies in lavenders and periwinkles. Her walls were a pale celery green covered in crazy cool folk art and Aboriginal Dream art. None of it went together individually, but together it was perfect. Just like Venus.

The gashes on my head and lip had closed and were healing, but I was covered in dried blood and bruises. Venus washed my hair in lemon-scented shampoo and filled the tub with hot water and bubbles. It smelled like heaven. She was so gentle. I felt like a baby, a very happy and well-loved baby.

“Astrid,” Venus asked, “do you want to stay in the tub?” She had drained out the dirty, bloody water and was refilling it with hot, lemony-smelling suds.

“I’ll stay in here forever,” I told her, sinking lower in the bubbles. She giggled and put an ice pack over my eyes. The swelling was going down. I could tell because I could see out of them now.

“Is Cathy okay?” I asked.

“Physically she’ll be fine. Mentally, it’s anybody’s guess,” Venus snorted in disgust.

“Is this all about Ethan?” I wondered aloud, taking the ice pack off and sinking even lower in the tub.

“It can’t be,” Venus shrugged and handed me a big bottle of blood. “Compliments of Gemma,” she smiled. “Chips and extra hot salsa!”

“Yesss.” I gulped it like a starving person, dribbling some down my chin in my haste. I loved my friends.

“Anyhoo, Miss Manners . . . ” Venus chided, wiping the blood from my face with a washcloth as I sighed happily. “From what I recently heard, Cathy and Ethan have not been . . . well, you know . . . intimate in about twenty years. Knowing they were not meant to be mates, he ended it and encouraged Cathy to look for her true mate.”

“And?” I asked.

“Clearly she hasn’t done that yet,” Venus laughed and ran a brush through my hair.

“Heathcliff thinks they still sleep together,” I told her.

“Heathcliff wants you, Astrid,” she shot back.

“Did,” I said firmly. “Not anymore.” Venus raised her eyebrows and finished cleaning my poor battered face. “So if it’s not about Ethan, why does Cathy hate me so much?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe she’s still hung up on him,” Venus offered. “Come on, let’s get you dressed.”

Wrapped in a fluffy towel, I followed her to her room and collapsed on her bed.

“Look, after what I found out today . . . ” I paused and carefully considered what I was about to say. “I don’t think I should mate with Ethan. Ever. I had no idea so much was at stake.”

“Don’t you think that’s something you should discuss with me, Angel?” Ethan asked, leaning against the doorframe of Venus’ bedroom.

“Holy hell,” I screamed. Curling into a tight ball on Venus’ bed I held my towel firmly in place. “Oh my God, do you ever knock?” I yelled at him.

Venus looked down and tried to hide her grin. She still couldn’t get over the way I spoke to her Prince.

Ethan smiled and tilted his head to one side, making me want to slap him . . . then screw him. “Door was open,” he grinned. “Venus, would you mind giving us a moment, please?”

“Not at all, my Liege.” Venus winked at me as she left.

“I’m naked,” I informed him.

“Interesting.”

“You have to leave so I can get dressed.”

“No.”

“No?” I repeated, narrowing my eyes at him.

“No.” His eyes changed to a beautiful emerald green and I could feel mine doing the same. “You are breathtaking,” he said.

“I’m a bloody bruised mess,” I retorted. God, he made me a nervous wreck.

“No,” he disagreed, “you are the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“Well, that’s lovely and all, but I’m still naked and you still have to leave,” I told him, reaching for the corner of Venus’ quilt to ensure more coverage.

“It seems we’re at an impasse.” He sat on the edge of the bed, making my quilt grab unsuccessful. “How about a compromise?” he suggested.

“Last time I agreed to some vague idea of yours I ended up halfway Vampyre-married to you,” I snapped and attempted to move away. Of course, the almost boob-reveal kept me anchored to my spot.

He threw back his head and laughed, and I swear to God I contemplated a strip tease and a lap dance. Damn it, he didn’t play fair. How in the hell was I going to get out of here without offering myself up on a platter to him?

“How about you let me dress you?”

I considered his suggestion. Could I make this work to my advantage? Probably not, but it did sound intriguing.

“Will you keep your clothes on?” I asked, kind of hoping he’d say no.

“Of course, and I won’t touch your skin at all . . . unless you ask me to,” he replied smoothly.

While the thought was appealing, the reality was alarming. The minute his hands came close to my girlie parts I knew I would beg. He was such an egotistical pig. I wanted to make him suffer.

“No,” I said. “That doesn’t work for me, but I suppose you could watch me dress. You can look, but you can’t touch.”

His smile was positively feral and I shivered. God, how stupid was I?

“That sounds delightful, Angel. Shall I pick out an outfit?” he asked

“Um . . . yes.” Clearly I was really, really stupid. “Wait, this is Venus’ room. I don’t have any clothes in here. Shit.”

“Oh, but you do,” he informed me, going through a pile of clothes on the chair.

“Where did those come from?” I asked, eyeing the pile suspiciously.

“My little Angel, you may not live here yet, but I am quite prepared for you when you do come to me.” He grinned and pulled out the sexiest and most obscene panties I’d ever seen. He coupled them with a drop dead Prada halter dress and thigh-high stockings.

“Fine,” I said, calling his bluff. “Leave them on the edge of the bed and go to the other side of the room.”

“As you wish.”

Damn it, I could do this. I would give him a case of blue balls that would make him double over in pain. I’d make him pay.

I got off the bed slowly and smiled, letting the towel fall to my feet. His sharp intake of breath made me giddy. I had never been so brazen in my life . . . or death, for that matter. Ethan shoved his hands into his pockets and I enjoyed watching him try to stay put. Locking my eyes with his, I ran my hands over my breasts and down to my hips. His eyes were blazing and his fangs descended, as did mine. I was enjoying torturing him. Unfortunately, I was also torturing myself. This was beginning to seem like a very bad idea.

I reached down and grabbed the scrap of silk he considered underwear. Moving in slow motion I bent over and stepped into them, making sure he had a very fine view of my entire backside. He groaned and dropped into a chair. He gripped the arms so tightly his knuckles were white. Damn, this was fun.

“You’re a tease,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.

“Honey, I’m just getting started,” I purred, sliding the panties up my legs.

“Call me that again,” he said gruffly, coming partly out of the chair. The tension in the room was thick and I was beginning to think I was in way over my head. I could feel the dampness between my legs and my breasts felt heavy and swollen under his gaze.

“Call you what?” I asked, settling the barely-there panties to their correct spot with shaking hands.

“Say ‘Honey’ again.”

“Really?”

“Really. You’ve never called me anything sweet before. I like it,” he replied and stood.

“Honey, sweetie, snookums, ***-pot, if you take a step closer, you’ll be breaking the rules,” I said, grabbing the halter dress and quickly stepping into it.

“What’s the punishment if I lose?” he asked, advancing on me.

“Um . . . well shit,” I screeched as I got my foot caught in the hem of my dress and I tripped forward into a set of very strong arms. “This wasn’t part of the plan,” I muttered and tried to twist away.

His hands on my bare skin ignited a fire down below. My naked breasts were pressed against his chest and my head was spinning. One hand slid down to my ass and neatly ripped away the sorry excuse for underwear he had chosen. If I could have found my voice, I would have yelled Fuck me . . . thank God my ability to speak had taken a vacation. His fingers continued their exploration to the area between my legs that made my knees buckle. He hissed as he felt how wet I was and reached further, immediately finding the spot that made me go partially blind. His long fingers expertly massaged me in circular motions. I cried out and writhed against him.

“Ethan,” I gasped.

“Yes, Angel?”

“You’re supposed to be on the other side of the room.” I grabbed his shoulders so I didn’t drop to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

“I was being a gentleman,” he whispered into my ear as two fingers slipped inside me.

“Oh God,” I moaned, pushing my body further down on his hand. “How is this being a gentleman?”

“You tripped and I caught you,” he said. He lifted me up with his unencumbered hand and took me to the bed.

“You’re not playing fair,” I cried, trying unsuccessfully to calm my writhing hips.

“All’s fair in love and war,” he ground out as he captured my mouth with his, making any further protest impossible. His lips and fangs moved to my neck. His tongue played with my veins and I shuddered. His hand was moving like a high-speed vibrator and I shrieked. I was spiraling out of control, and I loved every second. I bucked on his hand like a champion bull rider and I had absolutely no control of the screams leaving my body.

“Oh my God, Angel,” he whispered against my ear, “I have never wanted something so badly in my life. You belong to me, to no one else. Mine.”

How in the hell did it feel like he had ten hands? Every inch of my body was a live wire ready to explode. My core was literally throbbing and words were replaced by screams and moans. He buried his fangs in my neck at the same time that he pressed down on my clit with the heel of his hand.

I detonated.

I vaguely heard him chuckle right before he sank his fangs into my nipple.

I cried out from the burning pain of his bite and tried to jerk away, but he held me fast. He drank from me while he plunged his fingers in and out of me. I thought I was done, but he had other plans. My body tightened to the point of pain and gripped his fingers like a vise. The rhythm of my hips increased to a frantic pace and I screamed over and over again as my world exploded into the loudest, most earth-shattering orgasm I’d ever had. My voice was raw and hoarse. I was sure speaking would be gone from my skill set permanently. Ethan held me and kissed me all over as I came down from my second orgasm in less than ten minutes.

“Oh my God,” I whispered with what voice I had left, “that was . . . ”

“Amazing.”

“Um, yeah,” I giggled.

“My Angel,” he smiled, brushing my wild hair out of my face, “I am amazed by you. You are everything I want and more. I have waited so long for you.”

“Ethan . . . ” I looked down. I knew if I looked into his eyes he would know I was lying. “I don’t want to mate with you.”

He went as still as a statue. “Look at me.”

I refused.

“Look at me,” he repeated harshly.

“I can’t,” I said, trying to get off the bed but he pulled me close and held me still. Where in the hell did all my super Vampyre strength go? I supposed I would have to admit he was stronger than me.

“Angel, I know what happened during training today,” he said quietly.

“Then you know why I can’t mate with you.”

“When I first drank from you, I knew who you were and what you were and what the risks were. I have no regrets, nor will I. Ever. You belong to me. You are mine and I will be yours.” His golden eyes searched my face and his thumb gently traced my cheekbone.

“Ethan . . . I . . . ”

“Stop,” he commanded. “If you can tell me you don’t want me and have no desire to become part of me, then I will leave you alone. Forever. Can you tell me you don’t want me?”

He waited.

“No,” I whispered, “I can’t tell you that.”

“I thought not,” he said smugly. “So I will wait for you. You’ll come to me when you are ready. But make no mistake, Astrid, you will come.”

“I kind of already did,” I muttered, looking away. “Ethan, it seems like you got the raw end of the deal.” I’d just had several massive orgasms and he’d had . . . um, none.

“I wouldn’t say that,” he laughed. His eyes flashed and turned back to a brilliant emerald green. “But we’ll take care of my end of the deal when you come to me willingly, with no reservations about how you feel about me. When you agree to be my mate.”

“Are you sure?” I asked as I ran my hand over some very hard evidence. “I am quite willing.”

He removed my hand and rolled off the bed. “I will have you,” he said, “and when I do, it will be because you are mine. Forever.”

With that remark he left the room, shutting the door behind him. I heard him laughing joyfully as he went down the hall. I was grinning from ear to ear. God, I adored that beautiful, conceited asshole. I might even love . . .

Stop. Don’t go there. Do not fall in love with him. He didn’t love me, he just wanted me. I quickly yanked on my dress and decided to go commando because the panties were toast.

“How ya doin’?” Venus grinned as she came back into her room. “I certainly hope you changed my sheets.”

“Oh my God, Venus,” I burst out, “we did not do that.”

“Uh huh,” she smirked.

“We. Did. Not. Do. It.” I insisted and she snickered. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“Well,” she began, enjoying herself immensely, “your dress is on backwards, everyone in the entire mansion heard you screaming, and I just passed the Prince in the hall looking like the cat that ate the canary.”

“Oh shit.” I ungracefully righted my dress and slipped my feet into my sparkly beaded silver flip flops that thankfully weren’t destroyed during my training ordeal. How was I going to face anybody here ever again?

“It gets worse,” Venus said, trying not to laugh.

“How in the hell can it get any worse?” I hissed. All I seemed to do in front of my Cressida brothers and sisters was have really loud screaming orgasms with their Prince. First my initiation—now this.

“The King and his entourage arrived about a half hour ago,” she said. I was speechless. This was a bad, bad, bad day. My potential father-in-law heard me screaming like a porn star angling for an award. “Ethan is with his father now,” Venus said.

“You’re joking.” I felt sick.

“Astrid,” Venus said, recognizing the symptoms of my impending panic attack. “Vampyres aren’t uptight about *** like mortals. It’s very natural for us. We’re very sexual beings.”

“I didn’t have *** with him,” I yelled.

“Then I’d hate to be within earshot when you finally do have ***,” she laughed.

“He won’t have *** with me until I mate with him,” I said, peeking into my dress at my breast to see if he’d left puncture marks. Nope, all clear.

“Are you serious?” Venus was shocked.

“Yep . . . as a heart attack.”

“What will you do?”

“I have no idea. I do know that I’m not walking out of this room and risking a meeting with the King,” I said. “I’d rather go to a tanning bed.”

Venus laughed, zipped up my dress and smacked me on the butt. “I would suggest you get moving then, because I can hear some Vamps headed this way to retrieve your sorry, screaming ass to present you to the King.”

“See ya,” I said, flinging my arms out and creating a glistening wall of glitter dust around me. I felt the Magic envelope me . . . and I disappeared.

 

[kenny0112]

Fashionably Dead (Hot Damned #1)
by Robyn Peterman
Genre: Funny
​

Spoiler: Chapter 24

“Brad Pitt called,” Gemma said, channel surfing.

I grabbed the mail and flipped through it. Nothing but bills and junk mail

“Again?” I was disgusted. This was the fifth time Brad called today.

“He’s not going to stop until you call him back,” she laughed.

“Oh. My. God.” I yelled, “I’m so not in the mood to deal with Brad Pitt today.”

I was still trying, without much success, to block out my scream-a-thon at the Cressida House. I hadn’t even told Gemma about it. Speaking of it aloud would somehow make it more real.

“How about Angelina?” she asked, ducking to avoid the pillow I threw at her.

“She called too?” I couldn’t believe this. What kind of evil had I done in my past to deserve this?

“Three times.” Gemma bit her lip to stifle her laughter. Why she derived such pleasure from my pain was beyond me.

“Fine.” I stomped my foot like a preschooler. “I’ll just go down there and put a stop to all this bullshit.”

“Go get ‘em, killer,” Gemma laughed, and ran from the room before I could find something else to throw at her.

***


Why in the hell was Brad Pitt so insistent on seeing me, and why was Angelina involved? Something didn’t add up here.

He’d already informed me of my mother’s unfortunate demise in an explosive private plane crash. No survivors. No remains. Huh . . . that was convenient. For the life or death of me, I would always wonder how she made that work out. I suppose if you’re married to or screwing a Demon, you can make almost anything happen and make anyone believe it.

I had a whopper of a headache. I thought Vampyres were immune to human ailments like headaches. Some were. Obviously, I wasn’t. My headache was named Brad Pitt and it was hitting me right between the eyeballs. Why, you may ask, would anyone in their right mind be angry that Brad Pitt was calling? I mean, come on, everybody wants them a little Brad Pitt . . . right?

Wrong! He wasn’t the Brad Pitt, just a Brad Pitt. That’s right, Brad Pitt from Bowling Green, Kentucky. He was a good ol’ boy, ambulance-chasing lawyer with a severely receding hairline, greasy comb-over, beer gut, and bifocals, who happened to share a name with a really good-looking movie star.

He believed the similarities went beyond the name. Clearly he drank. Staggering as it may be, he thought he was sexy and interesting and that every woman in town secretly wanted him. He was wrong. Nobody in town wanted him, including his wife, Angelina.

That right there was one of the most alarming parts of the story. He had married a rather large balding gal named Tammy Sue Jinkers, but had made her legally change her name to Angelina Jinkers. Her entire family balked when Brad tried to persuade all of them to switch to their surname to Jolie.

She was a hoot, and if you listened to gossip, pretty loosey-goosey. Legend had it, with a few drinks in her, she’d go home with anything that could walk and had dangly parts. Six months ago at the Bingo Marathon, she had a few too many and informed all within earshot that Brad wore her panties and liked to be spanked. There was so much wrong with that I couldn’t even begin to dissect it.

When they had first moved to town four years ago there was mass hysteria. All the townsfolk showed up bearing gifts and casseroles for Brad and Angie and their brood of children. All the local news stations came down, and by God our little local paper was there to cover the happening. Lexington and Louisville even sent crews down to our little podunk municipality. Then Brad and Angelina arrived, and boy, were people pissed.

I didn’t see it, but legend had it that Martha and Jane threw casseroles at them, they were so furious. Knowing the old biddies, I was apt to believe that story was true. I felt sorry for our new neighbors until I found out the fake Brad Pitt planted all the stories that led us stupidly to believe the real Brad Pitt was moving here. Gemma read that the real Brad Pitt had finally had to take out a restraining order on our big, fat, greasy Brad Pitt. She also said that our local Brad Pitt’s aura labeled him as very untrustworthy and downright skeevey.

His ego was as big as his gut, and his gut was big. He was a lardass lawyer, and of course Petra had retained his services. I was sure she got a good laugh knowing I’d have to deal with him, his bad breath and his wandering hands after her death.

Brad Pitt’s office space hadn’t been updated since the 1980s. Due to my super keen sense of smell I detected Taco Bell, B.O., Old Spice aftershave and bad breath.

To my great surprise and horror, Martha and Jane were Brad Pitt’s new receptionists.

“If you don’t have an appointment, Astrid,” Martha snapped, “Mr. Pitt won’t be able to see you.”

“Free health care for everyone,” Jane grunted and then slammed her own head down on the reception desk.

“I’m sorry, what?” I grinned, sure that I had misheard.

“Jesus wears a thong,” Martha hissed and turned a shade of red I’d never seen.

Holy shit, had Paris Hilton already gotten to them? This was awesome.

“Moses liked sheep,” Jane screeched. Martha slapped her and stuffed a wad of paper in her mouth.

“Equal rights for gays,” Martha moaned. “All the rich people should give all their money to the poor, and Jesus ate pork in a tube top.” She threw herself to the floor and yanked on her own hair.

Jane fell on top of Martha and proceeded to spew liberal and sacrilegious nuggets of wisdom.

“Well, hidey hodey ho, Astrid,” Brad Pitt yelled from his office doorway. “You are lookin’ miiiiighty fiiiine today, girly girl.”

“Thank you, Brad,” I said with disgust. “Why in the hell do you keep calling my house?”

“Well, little darlin’, why dontcha come on into mah office and we can have a little chitty-chat,” he leered.

God, he was foul . . . so foul that he actually gave me a tremendous idea. I should use some of my powers for the good of mankind. Shouldn’t I? Yes . . . yes, I should.

“I’d love to rendezvous in your office with you, Brad,” I purred.

He looked so confused that it was difficult not to laugh. Clearly no one had ever responded positively to his disgusting come-ons. After today no one would have to ever hear one again.

I sauntered past as he watched my butt with great appreciation.

“Martha and Jane, hold all my . . . what in the fuck is wrong with you two?” Brad bellowed as they wrestled all over the floor.

I glanced over my shoulder. “They’re dating.”

“Well, if that’s not the goddamned grossest shit I’ve ever heard,” he muttered. “Just hold my calls and don’t you dare teach none of that lesbo shit to Angelina. She’s already loose enough.” He shut his office door behind him, licked his lips and gave me a big, skanky, good ol’ boy grin. Brad Pitt of Bowling Green, Kentucky defined the word asshat more than anyone I’d ever met. He was vain, disgusting, and sexist.

“So, girly girl,” he said, flexing his muscles, “why dontcha sit your pretty little hiney down. We done set up that memorial for next Saturday just like you requested.”

“I didn’t . . . ” I started.

“I know you didn’t think we could do it, but we did, sweet cheeks! And boy, are them some sweet cheeks,” he guffawed and pointed to my ass so I wouldn’t mistake his compliment. My stomach roiled. “We got that there message from ‘Petra’s daughter’. Like we didn’t know who you was.” He laughed and sucked in his gut, which if I’m not mistaken—and I’m not—made him pass gas.

“What are you talking about?” I was confused and asphyxiated at the same time. Bad combo.

“Don’t you play coy with me, you little sweet potato.” He had spittle in both corners of his mouth. “We got that big ol’ six foot by eight foot poster of your momma that you sent over and Angelina had it mounted just like you wanted.”

“Uh huh,” I mumbled. Who in the hell was pretending to be me? Was Petra alive and screwing with everybody?

“I took one good look at that poster of your momma and . . . God rest her soul . . . I would have really liked to have mounted her! No offense,” he said.

“None taken,” I replied. “Tell me again when I called to request this.”

“Well, lemme think.” This could take a while. “I’m a guessin’ it was about two . . . or four or maybe it was three days ago. We got a real kick out of that fake accent you used on that there message you left.”

“Do you still have that message?” I smiled at him and ran my tongue slowly over my lips.

He about choked on his own saliva he got so excited. “Naw, once we listen to something the machine eats it. Besides . . . ” He made sure his comb-over was still in place. “You told us to erase it after we wrote down all your orders.”

He slithered his big ol’ butt closer to me on the couch. “But here’s the big news, little dumplin’.” He moved closer. “Your momma left you forty million fuckin’ dollars!” he shrieked like a game show contestant on The Price is Right.

What the fu . . . ? “What?” I was in such a state of shock I didn’t realize Brad Pitt was fondling my right boob. As soon as I did, I punched him in the head and he went flying across the room. It was a good thing Ethan wasn’t here. Brad Pitt would be dead.

Forty million dollars. Where did she get forty million dollars? That couldn’t be right. Could it?

“Are you sure about that amount?” I demanded.

“Yep,” he whimpered from the floor. “You have one hell of a left hook.”

“Thank you.”

“Yer welcome.” He got up and sat in the chair across the room from me. I guess you could teach an old dog new tricks. “The check will be ready next week, and right over there on my desk . . . ” he pointed tentatively “ . . . are all the details for your momma’s memorial next Saturday.”

I grabbed the folder and slowly approached him. He got lower and lower in his chair. Time to do some good for mankind.

“Sit up,” I barked. He did.

I didn’t know if this would be hard or easy. I was a little nervous, but he deserved it. He was a boil on the butt of the universe, and it was high time he was lanced. I let my eyes go green and I stared deeply into his little beady ones. He went slack-jawed and was more unattractive than usual. How was that possible?

“You will never come on to any woman other than your wife ever again. You will treat your wife like a goddess, and you will be at her disposal twenty-four seven. You will get rid of that skanky comb-over and you will brush your teeth more often.”

This was fun!

“If you ever say anything inappropriate to a woman in this lifetime, your testicles will itch horrifically for a week. If you persist, your balls will fall off, followed by your dick. You will donate a third of your income to local charities.”

I thought for a moment. Was there anything else? Nope, that pretty much covered it.

“Yes,” he said, still tranced.

“Good.” I let my eyes go back to amber gold and I waited. If this was successful, I might have a new calling in life. As he came out of his stupor, he looked confused, but quickly refocused.

“Well, Miss Porter, again please accept my condolences on your mother’s untimely and tragic death.” He gave me a fatherly smile. “The check should be here next week, and the memorial should run smoothly. I will review the details again myself. I must say it’s quite a beautiful sendoff you have planned for your mother. Please let me or my lovely wife, Angelina, know if we can assist you further.”

“Thank you Mr. Pitt,” I smiled, satisfied with my work but still confused about who arranged all this. “Please give my best to Angelina.”

I left his office and approached a grunting Martha and Jane.

“Teachers should get paid more and gay marriage is the answer to my prayers,” Jane shouted and then punched herself in the head.

“The Pope wears a miniskirt and I worship dogwood trees!” Martha choked out, turning a mottled purple.

I smiled. Being a Vampyre so did not suck.

 

[kenny0112]

Fashionably Dead (Hot Damned #1)
by Robyn Peterman
Genre: Funny
​

Spoiler: Chapter 25

I walked out of Brad Pitt’s office feeling good, and saw something that made me feel even better. He sat across the street on the steps of the only bank in town. His chin rested in his hands and he had that sexy half-smirk thing going on. I think I’m in lov . . . What in the hell am I thinking? Close the brain door, close the brain door . . . he can hear me. Shut it!

I looked around and wondered where all of his guards were. He was too important to be traveling without protection, although from what I had seen he was stronger and more deadly than any Vampyre in our compound, and the Vamps in our compound were the best of the best. I didn’t spot anyone, and my eyes were good. Good enough to clearly notice he was the hottest thing I’d ever seen in my life.

He grinned and my knees almost buckled. Damn him. I stopped about thirty feet away. I gave him the eyeball and put my hands on my hips. He just kept grinning as he stood and waited.

I shouldn’t go. I should stand my ground. I absolutely should not go. If I go, I might have to jump him in public . . . I should not jump him in public. I should do it in private. Wait. I shouldn’t jump him ever. Anyway, he should come to me . . . but I wanted to go to him. Nope, I’m not going.

While I argued with my inner slut he made up my mind for me. He picked me up and carried me to the most expensive-looking car I’d ever seen. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist and laid a big wet one on his beautiful lips. He tasted so good.

“Did you have fun in there?” Ethan inquired as he carried me across the street to his car.

“I did,” I said, ducking to avoid knocking my head on the door as he dumped me into the passenger seat while copping a major feel of my butt.

He got in the driver’s side. “You know, you were right. I almost did come in there and kill him when he touched you.” He was very serious.

“Oh my God,” I yelled, hitting him. “You cannot go around killing people for me. I am perfectly capable of doing that myself.”

He laughed. “But you wouldn’t have killed him, would you?”

“No, I wouldn’t have. He’s an idiot, not a danger. Big difference,” I told him, putting on my seat belt.

He watched me and smiled.

“Oh,” I giggled. “Habit . . . guess I don’t really need this anymore.”

“You are still so beautifully human.” He touched my face, drawing me to him.

Every touch, every look, everything about him sent electricity and need coursing through my veins. His lips were so close to mine. I wanted him to kiss me.

“How’s the ‘dating other people thing’ going for you?” he asked with what I would have to label as mock sincerity.

“It sucks,” I told him, running my tongue along his lower lip. “No Vampyre will come near me because of you.” I saw no need to say anything about Heathcliff. We did not go on a date and although it turned out to be very special, it was not romantic.

He made a sad face. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He was gloating.

“How’s it going for you?” I realized in that moment I really wanted to know. Holy shit, was I jealous? I never got jealous. Ever. I wanted to rip her eyes out. Whose eyes? I had no idea, but if he told me he was seeing someone else I’d kill her.

“It’s going fine,” he said, revealing nothing.

I narrowed my eyes. “What exactly does that mean?”

“Well . . . ” He took the longest pause in the whole wide world, loving my jealousy. I was going to cry. “I don’t need to date anyone else. I already know who I want and I have every intention of getting her.” He kissed my eyes. “And making her mine,” he said as he kissed my nose, “for eternity.” He kissed my lips, then pulled back and looked right into my soul. “Soon.”

“Well . . . okay then,” I said, mollified.

“Okay then,” he said, starting the car.

“Where are we going?” I asked, kind of hoping he’d say a hotel.

“On a date,” he grinned, “but we could go to a hotel after if you’d like.”

“Get out of my head,” I snapped.

“Can you not read my thoughts?” he asked, enjoying himself way too much.

“No, I can’t. That one time in the graveyard I could. You must remember that,” I snarked, “the time you tried to kill me?”

“I had no intention of killing you, Angel. I had every intention of doing something else with you, but you disappeared. We never have discussed how you were able to do that.” He arched an eyebrow at me and waited. That look brought other Vampyres to their knees. He could be very scary. If I were easily intimidated that eyebrow thing would have scared me to death, but as it was it just made me want to make out with him really bad.

I wondered how much to reveal. He already knew quite a **** “Angel blood,” I said slowly. “My first feeding was from my Angel, Pam. The Magic comes from my Fairy, The Kev.”

“The Kevin is your Fairy?” Ethan was shocked.

“Yes, is something wrong with that?” He had better not trash The Kev. I’d kick his ass. How did he even know about The Kev? He pulled the car over and stared at me. “What?” I said, getting uncomfortable.

“He lets you drink from him?” He was awed.

“All the time,” I replied. Where was this going?

“You drink from him, but not from me?” Jealous Vampyre Boy practically shouted.

“I’m not in danger of being mated to him for eternity, Little Mister,” I shot back.

“Did you just call me Little Mister?” The shock on his face was priceless.

“You betcha I did, Little Mister.” I was positively gleeful.

“Do you have any respect for me at all?” he demanded.

“Tons,” I smiled.

“All right. I was just clarifying.” He rolled his eyes at my total lack of respect for his authority. I knew that he loved that I treated him like a regular Joe, but it frustrated him at the same time. He was used to getting his ass kissed.

“I guess that it would be so awful,” he said, pouting, “to be mated to me. To be mine.”

I could not believe one of the strongest and most respected Vampyres in the world, the Prince of the North American Dominion, was jealous and pouting. Over me. This was the best day ever.

“I’m not saying it would be awful,” I told him. “Quite the opposite, I’m sure.” He started to perk up. “But I need to know you better and you need to know me better.”

“Will you show me your cheerleading jumps?” he asked, biting his lip to keep from laughing.

Venus and Gemma were so going to die.

“Only if you run buckass naked through the Cressida House professing your undying love for me,” I snapped.

“Fine, I’ll do it,” he said, calling my bluff.

“You so will not,” I laughed.

“I so will too.” He grabbed me and brought his lips to mine.

“Screw you.” I tried to push him away.

“Love to,” he said.

“Wait,” I said, torn between satisfying my curiosity or my libido. “Why is it such a big deal that The Kev is my Fairy?”

He shook his head and smiled, refusing to untangle himself from me. “The Kevin is the most beloved and feared Fairy in history. He is the finest warrior to come along in the last two thousand years. People faint in his mere presence. My guess is you’re not even remotely scared of him.” I nodded my head in agreement. “He doesn’t give his protection or his tutelage to Vampyres. I can only recall one other Vampyre that he has taken under his wing, so to speak,” he grinned.

“Who?” I asked.

“Me,” he replied. “Has his fashion sense improved?”

“Get. Out. Of. Town. You trained with The Kev?”

“Yes.”

“He punches like a freight train and no, he dresses like a blind man. If he ever left the house I’d be embarrassed.”

“Oh, he leaves the house,” Ethan assured me. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he were quite nearby.”

“Hello, my little Krumecaca,” The Kev bellowed from the back seat on cue.

“Shit.” I jumped and slammed my head into the passenger side window. Ethan winced in sympathy. The Kev just laughed and threw a little Glitter Magic to heal the bruise that was fast forming along my cheekbone.

“My Prince.” He joyously slapped Ethan on the back. “How in the hecks are you doing?”

I turned back to look at The Kev. He was clad in tight salmon-hued flannel PJ bottoms and a cherry red wife beater with pink sponge rollers in his hair. Before I could ask, he explained.

“Gemma likes my hair wavy,” The Kev said, pointing to the rollers.

“Why don’t you use Magic?” I asked.

A wicked grin spread across his beautiful Fairy face. “Because it’s way too much fun to give to you the embarrassment.” He winked at me. “Also it distracts you when we fight.”

“You cheater!” I smacked The Kev and two of his pink rollers flew out. “Oops, let me fix that.” I climbed over my seat into the back and I heard Ethan moan. I took my time and I made sure he got a really good look at my ass.

“You’re killing me, Angel.” His eyes were bright green.

“I’m trying to, Your Highness,” I laughed and rerolled The Kev’s hair. “Why are you here, The Kev?” I fixed several rollers that were about to fall out.

“I have come to you because I had the thoughts that you would be hungry,” The Kev said mischievously. “I also think I would enjoy to watch my other favorite beautiful Vampyre get jealous,” he laughed. Ethan did not.

“I am hungry.” I was being careful. “Um, is that . . . ?”

“No,” Ethan snapped. “I will not allow you to crawl into some Fairy’s lap and suck on his neck, no matter who he is.” God, Vamps were territorial.

“Oh, my dear Ethan . . . ” The Kev leaned forward and took Ethan’s face into his hands. “She is the little sister of my heart. I love her like a child, the same way I love you. Astrid’s path will be very difficult. She needs what I can offer her and I am here to prepare her.” He paused. Sometimes his English was so good, I wondered if he was screwing with us the rest of the time. “She is the Chosen One, and it will not be easy.”

“Absolutely not. She is mine and I will give her what she needs,” Ethan said, defying The Kev, which was either really brave or really suicidal. The Kev grinned from ear to ear as if he expected Ethan’s reaction and quite enjoyed it. “Very well,” The Kev bellowed joyfully. “I am sure she is in the hands that are good.”

“She is,” Ethan replied in a clipped tone. I could feel him watching me. Ethan confused me. My love for The Kev was simple . . . a no-brainer. He was kind and gentle and there was nothing sexual to muck it up. Ethan was another story. There was so much sexual to muck it up it was hard to see clearly, but I was beginning to. I was falling . . . No. I wasn’t falling. I was already in love with him. I was fairly certain part of me knew it from the first moment I saw him. Being in love with him scared me to pieces. I had ruined every relationship I’d ever been in. Partially thanks to my mother, but mostly thanks to myself.

My God, everything was getting too complicated, and I had a feeling that I was in the lull before the storm. It was going to get a lot uglier. How had I not gone insane? A month ago I didn’t know Vampyres existed and now I was their Chosen One. I should be a blubbering idiot. I was sitting in a car with a Vampyre and a Fairy, and not just any Vampyre or any Fairy . . . the head honcho Vampyre and Fairy. My daddy was a Demon. I still had a hard time wrapping my mind around that one. Thankfully, I had my own personal Angel and Fairy or I might have taken after Daddy and started eating all the townsfolk. Who in their right mind would believe that a whole bunch of paranormal beings would choose the backwoods of Kentucky as their home and like it?

Checking myself into a facility was an option, but for some reason I was calm. Totally calm. I suppose tomorrow someone could let me know that werewolves and leprechauns exist and I could self-combust . . . or how about trolls and mermaids?

My life was careening out of control, but the only thing that unsettled me was Ethan. You’d think being spawned by a flesh-eating Demon or the fact that I was supposed to save the world would freak me out. Nope. The thing that scared me most was that I was in love with the Prince of the North American Dominion and I had no idea if he loved me back. I knew he wanted me, but lust and love were two different animals altogether. I wanted both.

The Kev took my hands in his and began speaking to me telepathically. Ethan was not included.

“Your heart may not beat, but you still have one, my liebchen. If you are not true to it, you will die a death more permanent than the one you live in now.” I started to cry. He sweetly pushed my hair back from my face and continued. “It’s okay to be scared, strudel princess, but not okay to run away from what will make you happy and complete.” He took my face in his hands. “Don’t you find it unusual that the two Vampyres in this car are the only two I have ever molded and made strong? Personally, I would wonder if there’s a reason for that.”

He winked at me before disappearing in a cloud of Fairy Glitter.

“What did he say to you?” Ethan asked.

“How do you know he was talking to me?”

“I could feel it,” he said, watching me from the front seat. Even the small amount of distance between us made me feel lonely for him. What in the hell was wrong with me?

“Did you hear him?” I was alarmed.

“No, he blocked me,” he said with disgust. “Far better than you do, I might add.”

I sat still and stared at him. He was so beautiful and so strong . . . and so mine, if I let myself go. If I followed my instincts, I’d crawl back to the front seat, bite him, drink from him and love him until the end of time.

“I wish you weren’t the Chosen One,” he said quietly.

“Why?” I was shocked. “Don’t you think I’m capable of doing whatever the hell needs to be done?” Damn it, every time I was close to committing to him, he did or said something stupid.

“It has nothing to do with that.” He angrily dismissed that notion. “Of course I believe you will succeed.” He closed his eyes and ran his hand through his hair. “I wish you were not the Chosen One because I don’t want anything to happen to you. I would not want to go on anymore without you. I have never been so happy in my life. You couldn’t care less that I’m the Prince of the North American Dominion. You were attracted to me when you thought I was a Rogue Vampyre.” That clearly delighted him. He reached back and put his hand under my chin, forcing me to look at him. “I wake up every day thinking about you, go to sleep thinking about you, and you are on my mind every minute in between. I can’t wait to be insulted, teased and kissed by you. I cannot wait until we make love for the first time, and the second, and the third. You make me feel alive. Mostly I wish you were not the Chosen One so you would believe that I want you for you . . . that I have fallen head-over-heels, no turning back, in love with you.”

I was speechless. My body felt light and airy and I was shaking. And then I did it. I followed my instincts.

I crawled over that seat, threw myself into Ethan’s arms, and sank my fangs into his neck as I made him mine.

Forever.

 

[kenny0112]

Fashionably Dead (Hot Damned #1)
by Robyn Peterman
Genre: Funny
​

Spoiler: Chapter 26

“Oh my God, Ethan,” I gasped as I withdrew my fangs from his neck. “Something is happening to me.” I was having a beyond overwhelming need to get naked, followed by getting him naked and violently making love to him.

“It’s okay, Angel.” He white-knuckled the steering wheel. “When Vampyres mate, they have to consummate the bonding. Their bodies demand it.”

He put the car into drive and floored it.

This was news to me. I was dizzy and horny. I leaned over and put my head between my knees, hoping to eliminate some of the pressure building up inside of me. Bad idea. Leaning over made the crotch of my pants hike up and press against part of me that did not need to be touched if I was going to be able to hold it together.

“Ethan,” I moaned, “I don’t think I can . . . ”

“You can.” He touched my back and a bolt of electricity shot through me, causing me to orgasm. I screamed. The orgasm should have given me relief, but it didn’t. It made it worse.

“Don’t touch me,” I ground out through clenched teeth, “unless you plan to follow through.”

“Trust me,” he said, his voice thick with lust, “I plan to follow through. Over and over and over. Just hold on—we’re almost there.”

“Where is there?” I asked, gripping the dashboard as if my life depended on it.

“Cressida House.” He glanced over. His eyes were greener than I’d ever seen them and he was more beautiful than he’d ever been.

“No, not there! They all heard me yesterday. The only thing I ever do is have screaming orgasms with you at that House,” I yelled at him.

He laughed. “God, I love you. My suite is soundproofed, Angel. Besides, *** in the Vampyre world is very different.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah . . . heard it before,” I snapped. “I love you too, you jerk, but I’m sick and tired of not being able to make eye contact with anyone.”

“You love me?” he asked, slowing the car to a stop.

“Yes, I love you,” I shouted. “Do you really think I’d become your mate if I didn’t love you?”

“I didn’t know.”

“Well, I find that incredibly insulting,” I told him. “If I wasn’t so goddamned horny, I wouldn’t let you have any tonight. Clearly that’s not gonna happen.” I was shaking all over now. “Can’t you drive any faster?”

He laughed his insanely sexy laugh and put the car in drive. And what do you know? I orgasmed. Again. This was getting ridiculous and I was getting teary. The pressure just kept building. “Ethan, please.”

“We’re almost there, baby,” he said, his voice unsteady. “I had no idea it would be like this.”

“This has never happened to you?” I asked, turning away from him. Looking at him was dangerous. If I had another big O, I was sure I would die.

“Never.” He swerved into the Cressida House drive at eighty-five miles per hour and screeched to a halt on the lawn, tearing out seventy-five to one hundred feet of manicured grass and bushes.

“Oh my God,” I cried out, “your dad is here.”

“Don’t worry about him. He’s going to be thrilled.” He had me out of the car faster than a human could blink, whipped me up into his arms and headed for his suite. Of course, every Vampyre I’d ever met was hanging out in the foyer.

“Get out of my way,” Ethan bellowed. “Astrid and I have mated.”

Holy shit, he may as well have just yelled, “Watch out, Astrid and I have to go screw so we don’t explode and die.” I was never setting foot in this House again. What in the hell was the muscular, bald beefy security guy from Jerry Springer doing here? Was he a Vampyre? Wait, that wasn’t the same guy . . . but he looked a lot like him. No, this guy was way better looking. Pam would luuuuurve him. We paused briefly in front of him. God, he was magnificent looking. He had eyes looked just like . . . oh shit.

Ethan bowed to him. “Father, this is Astrid. We’ve just mated. I’ll see you in five or six hours.”

Kill me now.

“That’s wonderful, son,” the King laughed joyously. “Astrid, I look forward to meeting with you . . . later.”

The entire foyer of, oh . . . I don’t know . . . about forty or fifty Vampyres burst into laughter and applause. Was this really happening? Were they truly celebrating the fact that I—or rather their Prince—was about to get laid?

Yes . . . yes, they were. Vampyres were so damn weird.

I wasn’t positive, but I think Ethan flew up the stairs. Thank God for that because I wasn’t going to last much longer. A door slammed shut. I couldn’t have told you where we were because I didn’t care. The only thing I knew for sure was that I was alone with Ethan and he was mine.

“I can’t wait,” I gasped, clawing at his clothes.

“Neither can I.” He literally ripped my clothing from my body. “You went to see Brad Pitt without a bra on?” He was incredulous.

“I never wear a bra.” I pulled his jeans and boxer briefs down and came face to face with the largest penis I’d ever seen in my life. My insides clenched and I thought I might faint. I wasn’t sure I could handle him. Good God, had I come this far only to realize *** with Ethan would tear me in two? The sane part of me wanted to run and the horny side of me wanted to try him on for size. I didn’t realize I was frozen and staring until I heard him clear his throat.

“Problem?” he asked suggestively.

“Um . . . no,” I whispered. “It’s just that . . . oh, what the hell . . . ” I trailed off and grabbed the oversized monster.

“Oh my God,” he gasped, pulling me to my feet and pressing his naked body against mine. “Angel, I need you,” he moaned.

“Yes,” I readily agreed, feeling light-headed and out of control. He pulled me to his bed and threw me on my back. He stood there naked, looking beautiful and deadly and mine. He was the most exquisite man I’d ever seen, just looking at him made my body sing. I was about to orgasm again without him even laying a hand on me.

He slowly, with carnal intent, kissed and nipped his way down my body. He paused at my breasts and marked me with his fangs ‘til I screamed and begged him to fuck me.

“Spread your legs,” he demanded. No more nice. No more gentle. No more soft. “Open for me, baby,” he said as he parted my legs with his hands and blew on my most intimate places. “You are perfect.” He lowered his head and made me see Jesus with his tongue.

“Oh Ethan . . . I don’t think . . . ” I cried out and clamped my legs around his head trying to make him stop.

Startled, he looked up at me from between my legs. “What’s wrong?”

“Um . . . .well, I’m not very experienced with this kind of, um . . . ”

“But I am,” he grinned. His eyes sparkled and his lips glistened with my moisture.

“Well, that’s certainly a big turn on,” I huffed and tried to escape, picturing him with hundreds of hot sexy Vampyre sluts.

“Trust me, I’ll turn you on,” he whispered so sexily I lost brain cells, erasing the images of other women.

His hands were like manacles around my thighs and any thoughts of anything else were obliterated. This was not nice or romantic or simple. It was violent, sexy, and hard. It was changing me at some fundamental level. As I screamed and moaned, and fought to gain dominance over the beautiful inhuman man possessing me, a trigger flipped. Suddenly, I was just like him, violent and sexual and no longer human. I wanted him more than I wanted to live. I would die for him and destroy anything that would threaten him in the slightest. He was mine. Period.

His fangs pierced me in places I had no idea were proper to bite and I returned the favor, making him shout in pain and pleasure. The line was so fine, I couldn’t discern it anymore. And I didn’t want to.

In a flash, his fangs were in my neck and his body was on top of mine. My body convulsed and he wasn’t even inside me yet. I lost count on the mini and major orgasms wracking my body and started to beg.

“You’re mine. Your body. Your mind. And your soul,” he moaned into my ear and I shuddered.

“Please, Ethan,” I gasped, writhing under him in wanton invitation. “Please.”

“Please what?” he ground out, grabbing my hair and making me stare into his blazing green eyes. “Tell me what you want.”

“You. I want you,” I cried.

“More specific,” he demanded, grinding his body against mine.

“Fuck me. Oh God, please fuck me.”

“As you wish.” His smile was pure *** and frightening, but it was everything I never knew I wanted or needed. “Open for me.”

I spread my legs for him. He took my hand and placed it on his engorged cock. “Put me where you want me,” he said gruffly.

He was like thick steel covered in silk, hard and smooth at the same time. I was so in love with him, and as unsure as I was of his size, I also had no intension of stopping. Ever. I guided him to where we both wanted him to be. He pushed the head of his shaft into me and I gasped.

“God, it feels so good,” he moaned, one hand grasping my ass and the other tangled in my hair, forcing me to lock eyes with him as he breached me slowly.

“Oh God,” I gasped, “don’t stop.” I was right. He was huge and I was not.

“Mine,” he groaned as his fangs descended.

He filled me to the point of pain, but his fingers on my clit forced my body to accept him as he methodically pushed more of his beautiful body into mine. He filled me to capacity and beyond, yet I wanted more. I wanted all of him. The thin line between pain and pleasure blurred to the point I was unsure what it meant. They were so intertwined that I lost sight of myself and became part of him. My core throbbed and I writhed beneath him, begging and crying. My body demanded satisfaction without care for the consequences. I lost all control and arched my pelvis up, pleading for more. My unspoken need undid him. He roared, and with a deep and violent thrust, he buried himself inside of me.

I screamed.

I was flying. My heart and my mind were with him, but my body tightened in protest. I felt him press at my womb. The orgasmic agony ripped through me and suddenly shifted. The pleasure overrode the pain and a slow sensual burn consumed my entire body. I bore down and gripped him inside of me, never wanting to let go.

“Mine,” he growled. He was triumphant, his eyes blazing a beautiful green.

He moved in and out of me with inhuman speed. I was physically at my limit, but unwilling to stop. I needed more. I met each thrust with an abandon I didn’t know I was capable of. My control had snapped and I didn’t ever want it back. I knew it would be amazing, but I didn’t know it would be perfect. I knew it would be good, but this was beyond. A fiery heat erupted as our bodies met. I needed him closer. I needed him deeper.

My nails raked across his back drawing blood, and I kissed him everywhere . . . neck, chest, shoulders, and lips. It was animalistic and inhuman and I loved it. We branded each other over and over. I no longer knew who I was without him. I spiraled toward an orgasm that would either make me see Jesus or kill me.

“Angel,” Ethan gasped, “bite me.”

My fangs descended and I leaned into his neck as his body possessed mine with a speed and a force I had never known. I bit into his neck and began to drink. He did the same. The explosion that rocked my body was nuclear. I was flying higher than I could have imagined. I couldn’t stop coming . . . it was the monster of all orgasms. My brain was skitzed and spots of brilliant color danced in my vision. Although I was spent, my body refused to obey. Ethan stiffened on top of me and then released himself. It was powerful and beautiful and felt like nothing I’d ever experienced. He had made me his and I had made him mine in every way possible.

“I love you,” I gasped, running my hands through his hair and gently kissing his swollen lips with my own. “We should, um . . . probably get cleaned up and go downstairs to your father.”

Ethan laughed and smoothed my hair back from my face. “I love you too, my Angel, but we’re not going anywhere,” he said, tracing my collarbone with his finger. “We’ve only barely gotten started.”

“You can do it again?” I was shocked.

He was delighted. “Oh baby, I’m a Vampyre. I can direct where I want the blood in my body to go.” He grabbed my hand and guided it to his rock-hard penis.

“Oh my God,” I gasped and giggled.

“Are you ready to go again?” he asked, caressing my breast.

“I’m not sure,” I lied with a smile as a slow heat coiled low in my body.

“I believe I can help you be sure,” he said with a wicked grin, moving down my body and burying his face between my legs.

I shrieked as shots of electric pleasure pulsed through me as his tongue did things I’d never known a tongue could do.

“I’m getting pretty sure,” I gasped.

“That’s good.” His voice was gruff as he slid back up my body. “Because I’m very sure I will never get enough of you.”

 

[kenny0112]

Fashionably Dead (Hot Damned #1)
by Robyn Peterman
Genre: Funny
​

Spoiler: Chapter 27

Eight hours and forty-five minutes later . . .

I wasn’t exactly sure how I was able to walk. I’d had more *** in the last eight hours than I’d had in my entire life thus far. Drinking Ethan’s blood, as old and as strong as it was, helped me recover some, but it was still a miracle that I could move. Quite honestly, I was surprised he could walk.

About four hours into our ***-a-thon, Ethan presented me with a ring. A six carat, square-cut pink diamond surrounded by white and pink champagne diamond clusters. I almost passed out, being the materialistic gal that I was. Pink diamonds were the rarest in the world. The ring had belonged to Queen Paloma, the King’s first wife. Ethan’s own mother, Queen Antonia, had died in childbirth with Ethan, so Queen Paloma raised Ethan along with her own daughter, Princess Lelia. She had been the one in the Betsy Johnson dress and great shoes, who had tried to kill me in graveyard.

The Queen had given the ring to Ethan over five hundred years ago making him promise to give it to his mate when he found her. Queen Paloma told Ethan that his mate would be the Chosen One and that their life together would be both complicated and beautiful.

“Why did he have so many wives?” I asked, gingerly pulling on some clothes from the stash Ethan had bought for me due to the fact that what I had been wearing yesterday now lay in shreds on the floor.

“It was very common then. There was a high mortality rate. A King had to give the world many princes and princesses. If I had to pick his mate though, it was Queen Paloma,” Ethan told me. How in the hell did he always look so perfect? I watched him button his black shirt and marveled at his beauty. “I am nowhere near as beautiful as you are, my Angel. You are exquisite. Every inch of you is absolutely ravishing and totally mine.”

God, he could fluster me. A pulsing heat beat between my thighs. A change of subject was in order or I was going to throw him down and molest him. Again.

“Get out of my head.” I narrowed my eyes at him and he grinned. I grinned back. “Wait . . . he couldn’t have been a Vampyre when he fathered you.”

“He wasn’t. He was a regular king with many wives and eleven small children. No one is clear on how he was changed, not even my father himself. We knew of Vampyres, Demons, Angels, and Fairies, but we had never encountered any. After he was turned, he went into hiding for a year, terrified that if he stayed he would harm or kill everyone that he loved.”

“Did he?” I asked.

“Yes.” Ethan paused and then continued slowly, “He drained his brother. Killed him during his first thirst.”

“Oh my God.” I felt horrible for the King and for his brother. Remembering my pain and desperation before I fed for the first time, I was so grateful Pam had been there to feed me. I could have easily killed a mortal in that awful state.

“My father was devastated.” Ethan took my hand. “He adored his brother. That’s when he left. He didn’t know the first hunger was the worst. None of us did.”

Ethan pulled me over to one of the leather couches, sat me on his lap and continued the story.

“During his absence we encountered Demons and Fairies. The worst and most dangerous was Abaddon, the King of the Demons. He showed up and repeatedly tried to seduce my father’s wives in his absence, hoping one would kill my father. This would have let Abaddon assume his reign. The King of the Demons might even have been successful with one of them, but Queen Paloma had his number, so to speak. No matter what face he chose to show himself in to the wives, she banished him back to Hell every time.”

“Why didn’t Abaddon just try to kill the King himself? Why get a wife to do it?” Again I was confused.

“The story is a bit complicated,” he said. “The King’s death must be at the hands of someone emotionally and physically connected to him. Abaddon was neither. The Demon had to be personally responsible without physically committing the murder, if he wanted to gain control of the Upper World. Therefore, one of the King’s wives was a perfect choice. Trust me, the Demon could be very beautiful and very persuasive. The person who destroyed his plans was Queen Paloma. She fought him every time.”

“She sounds amazing,” I said with admiration.

Ethan smiled. “She was. She was as beautiful as she was tough. We all adored her, especially my father.”

“Did that make any of the other wives jealous?” I always wondered how the Mormons did it. You never really heard much about Mormon wives offing each other.

“No,” he said, “it was quite common to be in marriages like that in those days. My father took very good care of all of his wives. They wanted for nothing.”

“Oh, come on.” I punched him in the arm and realized my entire upper body was sore, too. How in the hell was my upper body sore? Oh wait . . . maybe the handstand position had something to do with that. I knew that was risky, but Ethan had been so impressed . . . “You can’t tell me that every wife was happy with that arrangement. There had to be some Jerry Springer stuff in there somewhere.”

Ethan raised his brows at my aches and pains, or maybe it was my referencing Jerry Springer. He began to massage my back and neck. God, that felt good. “There was some strife, but that didn’t come until my siblings and I were in our twenties.”

“Mmm,” I moaned. I was in heaven. First *** and then a massage. It didn’t get much better.

“At the time,” he chuckled as I snuggled closer, “we did not know how or why Queen Paloma had died. We didn’t find that out for a hundred years.”

“Didn’t he try to change her?” I asked.

“Yes, that’s when he realized that women who had borne children could not be changed,” he said sadly.

“Why didn’t he say anything? So much heartache could have been avoided had he spoken out.”

“He was too devastated,” Ethan replied. “It’s a decision he regrets every day of his life. Many women died because their husbands didn’t have the knowledge that my father had. Several hundred years ago when everything became known, the monarchy was almost destroyed.”

“So which wives got all pissy?” I asked. Heathcliff had told me some of it, but Ethan had been there. I had to admit that it was weirding me out a little that I was Vampyre-married to someone who was over five hundred years old, but damn, you’d never know he was older than dirt in the bedroom. He was a total rock star in the sack. I didn’t even know people did some of the stuff we did. I couldn’t wait to do it again.

“Um . . . Angel, I can hear you,” he laughed.

“You have got to get out of my head,” I snapped.

“That’s very difficult now that we’re mated. We’re more connected than any two people could be. You’re mine and I’m yours.”

He leaned in and nipped at my neck sending little electric shocks through my body.

“Stop,” I giggled, “I want to hear more of the story.”

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes and continued. “He changed all of his children, but none of his wives. None of the wives challenged his decision except one. She was furious. She begged and pleaded, but he stood firm. At the time I felt bad for her. I, too didn’t understand why he wouldn’t change her.” He twirled my hair between his fingers. He had no idea how many points he was earning. I loved having my hair played with. That was definitely worth a blow job.

“Angel,” Ethan moaned, “your train of thought is going to make me strip you naked and have my way with you again.”

“Whoops,” I laughed. “Will this sexual thing ever fade?” I asked, not knowing if I wanted him to say yes or no.

“Nope, from what I’ve been told it gets more intense with time and familiarity.”

“Oh my God,” I gasped, “we’ll end up killing each other.”

“I could think of worse ways to go,” he smiled, running his tongue along my shoulder. I shuddered.

“Wait,” I said, pulling out of his embrace. “So is that the wife that got banished?”

Ethan sighed and realized he was not going to get into my pants until my curiosity was satisfied. “Yes, I no longer felt sorry for her after she tried to kill my father. Apparently, Abaddon had regaled my father’s wives with a tale of how to attain immortality without becoming a Vampyre, but only one took the bait. If they sacrificed the King, drank his blood, and ate his flesh, they would live forever.”

“Oookay,” I gagged, “that’s disgusting.”

“Oh, but that’s not all,” Ethan continued, “the murderer must rip out the heart of the Vampyre King, and present it to the Demon King. This action ensures that King Abaddon will rule both the Upper and Underworlds. Abaddon is the most viciously evil of all the Demons, although all Demons live in Hell for their own wicked reasons.”

“Is any of that true?” I was shocked. Vampyres and Demons were sickos. Wait. I belonged in both of those categories. What in the hell did that make me?

“I have no idea,” Ethan said. “It’s never been accomplished . . . not that it hasn’t been tried. So my father banished his wife, the mother of my sister, Princess Juliet. Juliet disappeared about twenty-five years after her mother was banished. We’ve never been able to find her.”

“Was Juliet angry with the King?” This was fascinating.

“No, we never thought so. She seemed lost after her mother was banished, but she was well loved by the other wives and all of her siblings.”

“So how does The Kev figure into your life?” I asked as I straddled him, making it difficult for him to think.

“You’re so asking for trouble.” Ethan grabbed my hips and pulled me closer.

“I so know that,” I grinned, winding my fingers into his hair and putting my lips to his ear. “How did you meet The Kev?” I ran my tongue along the edge of his ear and sank a fang into the lobe. God, his blood was delicious.

Ethan moaned. “He was sent by an Angel in the Heavens to train me to protect my father.” He was losing control quickly. “I was so surprised to see the form he took this time.” He cupped my bottom with one hand and started to unzip my dress with the other.

“What do you mean, form?” I demanded and he stilled. “What are you talking about? What form?”

“What?” He was confused. “What do you mean, what form?”

“You said it,” I told him trying unsuccessfully to crawl off of his lap. I knew this was important. “What do you mean about The Kev’s form?”

“Oh,” Ethan laughed, “you lost me there for a moment.” Clearly all the blood had left his brain and traveled south. “The Kevin doesn’t really look like Arnold Schwarzenegger.” He tried to kiss me, but I was having none of it.

“What do you mean?” I snapped. “Of course he looks like Arnold Schwarzenegger.” That stopped him.

“Oh baby,” he said, “Angels and Fairies rarely show their true form. They are so beautiful it is impossible to look at them. They can choose any form they like.”

“You are kidding me.” I was astounded.

“Nope,” he smiled at my shock.

“You’re telling me that The Kev doesn’t look like Arnold Schwarzenegger and Pam doesn’t look like Oprah Winfrey?”

Ethan started laughing. Hard. “Your Angel took on the visage of Oprah Winfrey?”

“Yes, she did,” I said, getting pissed at him. “Why in the hell is that so funny?”

He couldn’t stop laughing. He was starting to make me laugh. “I don’t know why I find that so amusing, I just do. She must have a hell of a sense of humor.”

“She does,” I said with loving pride. “She also has a mouth like a sailor.”

“Oh my God.” He was still laughing, “I want to meet her.”

“I’m not sure she’ll let you see her. She seems to have an aversion to Vampyres.”

“Most Angels do,” he said, calming down. “She doesn’t have an aversion to you.”

“No, she loves me,” I told him.

“I do too.” His eyes turned green and his fangs descended.

“Oh no, no, no,” I said, trying to squirm away even though I could feel my own eyes turning green and my fangs descending.

“Oh yes, yes, yes,” he insisted, tearing open the front of my dress. “God, I love that you don’t wear a bra.” His mouth quickly closed over my very erect nipple.

I squealed with delight, threw my head back and gave in to the sensations. Oh hell, what’s another hour or two going to hurt?

 

[kenny0112]

Fashionably Dead (Hot Damned #1)
by Robyn Peterman
Genre: Funny
​

Spoiler: Chapter 28

I was so nervous to sit down with the King I thought I was going to pass out. Ethan had more clothes sent up for me, due to the simple fact that all my clothing had yet again been shredded in a sexual frenzy. Of course the new stuff was all Prada. This time it was a body-hugging, midnight blue strapless dress and a kick ass pair of black stilettos. The fabric felt slippery and sexy on my skin. Mortals were really missing out on the Vampyre sensory overload thing. At least I knew I looked good on the outside, even though my insides were churning. Turns out, I had nothing to worry about. Who knew I was going to fall in love with the King within the first two minutes of being near him? I was jealous of Ethan and his siblings. I had always imagined a father just like the King.

“You are absolutely lovely,” the King laughed happily and enveloped me in a bear hug. He smelled wonderful. He held me out at arm’s length and studied my face. “May I?” he asked, indicating he’d like to sample my blood.

From anyone else that request would seem either sexual or repulsive, but from the King it was completely inoffensive, almost sweet. I nodded. He produced a beautiful but wicked-looking dagger from his belt and gently sliced my palm. He brought it to his mouth and licked. He considered for a moment, rolling my blood around on his tongue . . .

“You are strong yet compassionate. You are very capable of killing, but it is not your first choice. Your strength and skill with Magic will be unparalleled.” His golden eyes sparkled like jewels. “You are gifted beyond reason, and I would hazard a guess that you have only scratched the surface of your abilities. You are much more than just a Vampyre, my little one.”

Oh my God, he knew I was half Demon. Damn, I’d forgotten he could identify species by blood. He paused and I could swear he looked right into my soul. “You are the One,” he whispered. “You are the Chosen One. We have waited so long for you, my beautiful child.”

He squeezed my hand and looked down at the ring on my finger. God, he really did look like the beefy security guy on Jerry Springer that Pam liked so much, only way better. He was bald and muscular. He had incredible cheekbones and his golden eyes were magnetic. His lips were full like Ethan’s and his lashes were impossibly long. It was a little strange that he didn’t look much older than Ethan, but that’s just the way it was with Vamps. Forever young. Pam would fall over dead for this guy. I’d money that she would give up her aversion to Vampyres for him.

“Ah, Ethan . . . ” The King had tears in his eyes. “You’ve given Astrid Queen Paloma’s ring.”

“Yes, Father, she is my mate.”

“Do you love her?” he asked his son.

“Completely,” Ethan told his father while staring directly at me. My knees went weak.

The King gently took my face in his hands. “Do you love my son?”

“I do.”

The King leaned in and kissed my forehead. “Then it is right that you wear the ring,” he smiled and released me. “You two have my blessing.”

“Thank you, Father.” Ethan looked at me with pride and love. I could not remember when I had been this happy.

“Your Majesty,” I said.

“Father,” the King corrected me, “please call me Father.” I couldn’t hide my delight at the honor of his request. It made Ethan and the King laugh. Great, now I was embarrassed. “What is it, my daughter, my Chosen One?”

“About that Chosen One stuff . . . do you have any idea how I am to serve you?”

“No,” he sighed, “I don’t, but I can feel that the time draws near. There is more Rogue activity in this particular part of the world than ever before. This does not bode well for the mortals or for us. Our anonymity is why we can exist. Without it we will be destroyed.”

“Why this part of the world?” I asked. “Why Kentucky?” It didn’t make sense to me why beautiful, glamorous Vampyres would be drawn to Kentucky. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Kentucky. To me it was paradise, but it wasn’t exactly the mecca of sophistication.

“Don’t you know?” Ethan seemed surprised by my question.

“Clearly I don’t, Mr. Smarty Pants, or I wouldn’t be asking. Let’s see, I’ve been a Vampyre for what? A month?”

Oh my God . . . I slapped my hand over my mouth. I was mortified. I didn’t really want the King to know how rude I could be right off the bat.

“She has no respect for me,” Ethan sighed with amusement in his voice and lust in his eyes.

The King chuckled. “Ahhh, she reminds me of my Paloma. Astrid, to answer your question, it’s the caves.”

“The caves? Mammoth Caves?” I was confused.

“Yes, Mammoth Caves and the Diamond Caverns are an epicenter of paranormal strength. An apex, if you will, of natural immortal power.”

“I love the caves,” I said.

“Of course you do, that does not surprise me.” He smiled and touched my cheek. I leaned into his hand. Who knew I was so starved for parental affection? I pulled back in embarrassment as he continued. “The caves began forming about ten million years ago during a time of great paranormal activity. The limestone deposits in the caves trapped the earth’s natural Magic and fed it. That enabled the power to grow and strengthen for eternity.”

“Normal people go there every day.” I was shocked to learn all of this.

“Yes, they do,” the King sighed. “The caves opened to the public in 1816. It’s made it more difficult for us, but not impossible. The strongest areas are those that the mortals have not discovered or mapped. There are hundreds of miles of cave that the mortals know of, but hundreds more that they will never find. There are portals to Heaven and Hell in the Diamond Caverns. Many immortals of different species are attracted to this area.”

“Is that why I see Demons everywhere?” It flew out of my mouth before I knew it was coming.

“You see Demons?” Ethan was surprised.

Uh oh . . . the jig was up. “I do,” I said slowly, “but they’re not all evil.”

Ethan snorted. “All Demons are evil—period.”

“Well, she’s definitely the Chosen One!” The King clapped his hands like a child. “Can you speak to them?” he asked. Ethan looked at his father as if he were crazy.

“Yes, I have four of my own,” I told the King. Ethan watched me with an unfamiliar look in his eyes. “Mine are my babies. They wouldn’t hurt anyone. I love them and they love me.” I knew I was getting defensive.

“Not all Demons are from Hell.” The King assured me while clearly making a point to Ethan. “Some are fallen Angels looking for good deeds so they may return to Heaven. Some are tortured souls who committed suicide and must do earthly penance to redeem themselves in the eyes of God.”

“Do we believe in God?” I whispered, hopeful and scared at the same time.

“I don’t know if you do, but I certainly do.” The King smiled at me. “How can you look around this beautiful world and not believe in God?”

“Do we have souls?” I sounded like a child to my own ears, but these were questions I had been too intimidated to ask until now. If I was very possibly going to die for these Vampyres, I wanted to know exactly where I stood and what I was.

“We do have souls, child,” he reassured me, “and we will answer to God on Judgment Day, same as anyone else. We just have a much longer time to rack up sins than your average mortal.”

“I have to tell you something.” I hesitated and realized I should have told Ethan all of this before I mated with him. Oh my God, he hates Demons. Will he hate me? But I’m not a Demon. Okay I’m half, but Pam said I wasn’t a Demon. Does that count? He had a right to know what I was before he was stuck with me for eternity. How in the hell was I supposed to know he was prejudiced against Demons?

Again, I have screwed up another relationship. I guess I’ll be headed to Vampyre divorce court. I felt sick. I was in love with someone who hated what I was.

“Yes, my daughter?” the King waited.

“Right before my mother, um . . . died two weeks ago, she introduced me to a Demon. A bad one and she said . . . well, I mean, told me . . . ” God, there was no easy way to say this. “She said he was my father.”

The room was silent. Ethan’s anger was palpable.

“What was your mother?” Ethan demanded coldly. It was the first time I was afraid of him since our encounter in the graveyard. He was no longer the man I’d just spent hours making love with. He was the Prince of the North American Dominion and I was but a lowly subject with whom he was furious.

“Mortal, I think.” My voice came from far away.

“Is that possible?” he snapped at his father.

“Anything is possible,” the King said, looking at me intently. “After your change, you were raised and fed by an Angel and a Fairy, correct?” he asked.

“Correct,” I told him. “My Angel is Pam and my Fairy is The Kev.”

“My goodness,” the King smiled and took my hand, “they sent down the big guns for you.” When he touched my face, he made me feel safe and cared for. “There is no problem . . . you are not evil. You are who you are supposed to be. You are the Chosen One.”

God, he made me feel better. I’d spent my whole life thinking there was something wrong with me and that I wasn’t good enough to win my mother’s love, that I was unlovable. I had that same feeling in the pit of my stomach when Ethan got so mad. If the King could love a half Demon, I could only hope Ethan would do the same.

“Don’t you think,” Ethan said between clenched teeth, “that you might have informed me that you were a Demon before we mated?”

“Are you serious?” I gasped.

“Completely,” he said, his voice cold.

Oh my God, he was such an asshole. I was filled with rage and humiliation and embarrassment. I wanted to sob, or to hit him, but mostly I wanted to run away. If he did not want me, I did not want him. “Your Highness,” I spoke with icy calm, “it’s half Demon, not Demon. But you’re right, I should have told you . . . just like you should have told me you were going to severely limit my dating options before you bit me in front of six hundred Vampyres. Next time you sink your teeth into somebody you should probably do a better background check.”

I was amazed at my ability to sound cold and mean when all I really wanted to do was beg him to love me.

“Limiting dating options and being a disgusting spawn of the Devil are two entirely different things. Don’t you think?” His voice dripped with sarcasm and anger. I barely recognized him.

“No, I don’t think,” I hissed.

“That’s right . . . your kind doesn’t do much thinking.”

My cold, dead heart was truly broken. I wanted to die for real. Instead, I held my head high and looked the son of a bitch right in the eye.

“According to my Angel and my Fairy, their blood negated any Demonic tendencies I may have had. So you see, Your Highness, I am not considered a Demon. Back to your original concerns though, you’re right. I should have told you I was a disgusting half Demon, and on the same note you probably should have told me that you were a hateful, bigoted half-asshole!” I yelled.

Oh my God, was I crying? Shit, I was crying.

I tried to take the ring off and throw it at him, but it was stuck on my finger. I cried out in frustration and I narrowed my gaze at him. It finally seemed to have an effect. He still looked furious, but he was also very upset and uncomfortable. Good.

“We are no longer mated,” I hissed. I was losing it fast. “I don’t want you and you don’t want me. We are done!” My non-beating heart was shattered. I backed up quickly as he started to come for me. What the hell? Did he want to kill me on top of destroying my life?

“Don’t you dare come near me,” I screamed. That stopped him dead in his tracks. I threw my hands in the air and in a cloud of Fairy Glitter . . . I disappeared.

***


“She’s a feisty one, isn’t she?” The King said, brushing the magical glitter off of his suit.

“How can you be so calm?” Ethan yelled at his father. The King just stared at his son. “Oh my God, what have I done?”

Ethan dropped down into a chair and put his head in his hands. The King patted his son on the back.

“She can’t do that, can she?” he asked.

“Do what, my son?” the King asked.

“She can’t break the mating. She can’t leave me.”

“No,” the King said gently, “she can’t break the mating. Once the relationship is consummated, it is permanent. Unbreakable, except through death. As far as leaving you . . . that she can do, but you would still be mated.”

“She’s mine, whether she knows it or not,” Ethan muttered. He paused for a moment. “I don’t think I handled that well.”

His head dropped back into his hands.

“No,” his Father agreed, “I don’t believe you did. You may think she’s yours, but I’m quite sure she would not agree. Does it really bother you that she is half Demon?”

“For a moment it did. My God, I’ve hated Demons for over five hundred years . . . and then I realized that I wouldn’t care if she were half the Devil himself. I’d still love her.” He paused. “What do I do now?”

The King considered his son’s options. “I suppose you could start by begging.”