“Yep, I know.” I examined the goldmine Dixie had deposited in my lap and hoped that ignoring my Baby Demons in my pocket would make my cousin follow suit.
No such luck.
“Are they hungry?”
“Is who hungry?” I asked as I stuck my hands in my pockets and attempted to quiet my tiny monsters.
“The little Demons in your pocket. Are they hungry?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I replied as I pinched Abe, Ross, Rachel and Beyonce. They didn’t help matters by giggling and poking their little heads out. “Fuck,” I muttered and shook my head in disgust.
“They’re adorable.” Dixie giggled and reached out to them.
“No,” I shouted and slapped her hand away. I quickly grabbed my little Demons before they ate my cousin. “Dixie, stay back. They eat Demons and I kind of like you . . . so just back away. Slowly.”
“We no eat her,” Ross screamed and laughed like he was on crack. “She pretty and she good. Me like to touch her boo . . . ”
“Enough,” I snapped before Ross waxed poetic about my cousin’s hooters. “You won’t eat her?”
“Course not, Moooommmmmyyy,” Beyonce chimed in. “She not evil. She be sweet and funny and me like her.”
My Demons crawled out of my pockets and slowly made their way up my body. The tiny three-inch monsters perched on my shoulders and watched my cousin with intense curiosity. My little monsters were a recent and constant addition to my new Vampyre world. Much to my great surprise and delight, I could see Demons that others could not. In my FUBAR undead life, my little Demons brought me joy and hours of laughter—not to mention the gifts of more power than I knew what to do with. I’d forgotten they were in my pockets when I was dragged to Hell and my gut clenched in fear. What on earth could happen to them in this place? Would they be safe? It was overwhelming enough to have to take care of myself and my baby living inside me . . . how was I going to manage to keep my little monsters from harm too? Out. I needed to get out of Hell. Now.
“She is sooooooo pretty,” Rachel whispered loudly.
“Thanks,” Dixie said. “Can I touch you?”
“Yessssssssssss,” Rachel squealed and hopped off my shoulder into Dixie’s open hand. “Don’t touchy Ross or Abe. They like boobies.”
“Um . . . okay.” Dixie laughed. “Are they yours?’ she asked me as she gently stroked Rachel’s little head.
“Yes, they’re mine and they’re innocent, so if you have any ideas of turning them into evil little shits, you’ll have to go through me,” I snapped and took Rachel back.
Dixie was stunned by my anger and stood mutely in front of me. My Demons began to laugh hysterically and pummel each other.
“Ohhhh, Mommmmmy so funny,” Abe screamed and began to twerk on my shoulder. I plucked him off and put him on the floor. Breakdancing was one thing, but shoulder twerking was an entirely different matter.
“She no hurt us and nobody can make us bad,” Ross explained to me and rubbed his little Velcro head on my cheek.
“You’re sure about that?” I asked.
“Absofuckinglutely,” Beyonce yelled as she flipped off my shoulder and onto Dixie’s.
“Language,” I hissed at them and they shrieked with delight.
“Mommmmmmmy has mouth like drunk sailor man,” Rachel told my now amused cousin. “She know all the bad words ever made!”
“Great,” I muttered. “That’s just fucking great.”
“Seeeeeeeee,” Abe grunted as he twerked a figure eight around my feet. “Mommy has filthy poopy mouth. That’s why we love her.”
“Well, maybe she can teach me a few things,” Dixie said as she lifted Beyonce off her shoulder and cradled her like a baby. Beyonce, the traitor, purred like a kitten and promptly fell asleep. “Do you think they’re hungry?”
I paused. How to answer that . . . They were probably not hungry considering they’d eaten my very large and evil father not all that long ago. I was still coming to terms with the fact that my adorable little monsters ate bad Demons—more specifically, my father. Although I hadn’t watched, the sound of the cannibalization of my pappy would stay with me for eternity . . .
“Well, I’m gonna go with a no on that one,” I said and grimaced as I relived their last meal.
“We still full from eating your daddy,” Ross crowed as he yanked up his shirt and slapped his little round belly. “He was sooooo tasty. Taste like chicken.”
“Wow,” Dixie said. “That’s a bit unexpected, but, um . . . interesting and gross.”
“Yeah, well, at least you weren’t there,” I snapped.
The silence was deafening. Several times I started to explain, but decided against it. I didn’t owe Dixie or anyone in Hell an explanation for anything. The less everyone knew about me the better. I grabbed the pile of clothes and made a no-way pile and an oh-my-God-I-love-this pile. Ridiculously expensive clothing could take my mind off of almost anything. Almost.
“We no need to eat for weeks,” Abe said as he humped my ankle. “And I no think your daddy taste like chicken. He taste like stinky cheese.”
“Me say fish tacos,” Rachel chimed in.
Okay, ewwww. “Me say enough,” I said before they gave a play by play.
Dixie laid the sleeping Beyonce down on the couch and flipped through my “good” pile of eveningwear. Pulling out a drop dead Stella McCartney, she held it up to me. “Wear this. You’ll be stunning.”