Home > Fashionably Dead in Diapers (Hot Damned #4)(15)

Fashionably Dead in Diapers (Hot Damned #4)(15)
Author: Robyn Peterman

"Enough," Ethan bellowed. The furniture froze as did all of the nut bags that were dancing with it. "Samuel, put the furniture back to sleep."

"Okay, Daddy," he said and wiggled his chunky fingers. The tables, chairs and the rest floated gracefully back to their homes and the room quieted.

"Clearly we have a few minor problems here," I said cheerfully through clenched teeth. "I think the best thing to do would be to limit visitation for a while…like thirty years or so, until Sammy has more of a grip on what will fly in normal society."

"Mommy, Sammy make everything fly," he told me sweetly.

"I know, baby, but sometimes that's not the best idea," I said and kissed his cheek.

"That's a mistake," The Kev said quietly.

"No, it's not," I argued. "It would be a shitshow and a half if he went to school and flew his little classmates all over the room and made the books and computers eat the teachers."

"That's not what I meant," The Kev countered with a kind smile. "Sammy will never go to a normal school or even mingle with humans for a very long time."

It was difficult to take someone who looked like David Hasselhoff seriously, but his words were hitting home in a harsh and realistic way. I wanted to cry, but bloody tears would fuck up my outfit. Plus, I needed to be strong for my child.

"What do you mean?" Ethan asked. His voice was dangerous and low.

I grabbed his hand and squeezed. Thank God I wasn't in this alone. I could kill an army of Rogue Demons, but tell me my son will never get to do Field Day or get asked to a Sadie Hawkins dance and I will weep a river.

"It would be a grave miscalculation to block Samuel from those that share his powers. The only way he will survive is to learn to harness what he has been given. Astrid, you cannot teach your son to contain and use Evil any more than Satan could teach your child to embrace Compassion. He needs to spend time with all of us. He will be dangerous and untamable unless we work together."

The words rang in my head. Dangerous? Untamable? WTF? My gut clenched and fear for my son consumed me. I shook my head to clear it and began to pace—movement helped me think. I felt magic leak from my pores and scatter through the room, bouncing around like ping pong balls. My family and friends ducked and steered clear while I marched around the room and tried to calm down. If The Kev was correct, which he usually was, I needed to keep Sammy in contact with his family. If I chose not to, my guess was that Samuel could become something so powerful he would have to be destroyed. God help anyone who would try to destroy my child. Well…it was a no brainer. However, I could still lay down a few parameters.

"Okay, fine," I said tightly. "Ethan, would you cover Sammy's ears?" He did. "We will raise him as a village. However, I am his mother and Ethan is his father. We have the final word on everything." The crowd nodded agreeably. "No more ten-headed fucking Demons."

"It was six," Satan volunteered.

"Thank you for the clarification," I snapped and rolled my eyes.

"No problem," he said and winked. My Uncle Satan was a piece of work…

"No boobies, or strip clubs, no fire breathing dagger wielding anything. No prejudice or hate will be condoned. I am going to invest in duct tape for my mouth. If I catch anyone cussing around him I will take your voice box for a week. If you persist I will remove your tongue. Oh, and no twerking or pole dancing."

Mother Nature sighed dramatically. "That's just not fair." She pouted and stamped her tiny foot, causing a minor earthquake to rumble through the massive ballroom.

"You can teach him to bake instead," I offered. Shocked gasps and covert gagging noises filled the room.

My grandmother contemplated my proposition and then laughed with delight. It sounded like wind chimes and I bit back a grin.

"That is a wonderful idea! We will start with cookies," she trilled with excitement.

Satan choked and Dixie slapped her hand over her mouth to disguise her laughter. Mother Nature was the worst cook in the universe—bar none. Of course that didn't stop her. She adored cooking…almost as much as she enjoyed pole dancing. According to those I knew that could eat, her food was horrendous. Hyenas turned up their noses at her concoctions and they'd eat anything. However, since Sammy didn't actually eat, I figured cooking with his great grandma was fairly harmless.

"As far as school goes…" I said cautiously.

I didn't know what to do about that. I had wanted him to have a normal childhood, but that was clearly not in the big picture. I needed some time to come up with a plan B.

"I've thought about that already," Ethan said. "Heathcliff will do his fight training until Samuel is ready for The Kev and my sister Racquel can do his schooling."

"Racquel?" I asked, surprised. She was hotter than Hell. I coveted her wardrobe with a vengeance, but was she smart?

"Off the charts MENSA," the King said with pride. "She's also great with kids."

This could work. I trusted Heathcliff, my Vampyre cousin, with my life and I really liked Racquel a lot, but…"Wait. I thought Heathcliff ripped off Racquel's arms or legs or something a long time ago."

"Yes, that's true." Ethan grinned with delight at the memory. God, we were a violent race. "But they are by far the most qualified and trustworthy for the job. They will deal with their past or I will deal with them."

   
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