"Do you like your boobs?" I asked sweetly. "I can make them bigger if that would make you feel better about yourself and be a kinder Fairy. What do you say?"
"Bitch," he bellowed as his face turned blood red. "You will pay for your sins. Scum like you and your people are dirt beneath our feet. Killing my Queen was your death sentence. You will die a violent and…"
Mr. Self Righteous Potty Mouth was starting to bore me and seriously get on my nerves. There was no mistaking that this one was unredeemable. I closed my eyes, clapped my hands and popped the fucker. The explosion was exactly as I remembered from the attack on my home. The attack that had started this clusterfuck when the Fairies had come for Gemma and then stole my baby. A rainbow of glitter and fire rained down on the chairs that the Fairies were seated in only an hour ago.
The cries of terror were earsplitting and I glanced back to see how much my son had witnessed. He was watching it with rapt attention and a look of curiosity on his angelic face.
"You want me help, Mommy?"
"No, baby. Mommy and Daddy can take care of this. You go backstage and play with Martha and Jane," I told him. His smile turned to a pout and it took all I had not to laugh. I was elated to see him in pre-hissy fit form. I was elated to see him in any form he chose.
"Can we babysit him too?" Huhu asked as she flew like a tiny bullet toward my head.
"Nope," I said as I caught her midair. "I need you three out here with me."
"Mommy no sure what to do," Sammy said and I froze. How in the Hell did he know that? "Sammy help pretty Mommy."
He slid down from Martha's embrace and toddled over to me. A hard knot formed in my throat and tears filled my eyes. He was walking…he was walking and I missed his first steps because these bastards had taken him from me. The temptation to simply kill all of them and be done with it was difficult to deny, but the small light of my life was watching me and I was going to set an example he would be proud of. What a bizarre world. I wanted to make sure he knew I was only going to destroy the bad guys. His new normal was as fucked up as mine.
"How can you help Mommy?" I asked as I squatted down and got eye level with him. Ethan came up behind him and touched his head.
"Make the Fawies put out their hands like Patty Cake." He demonstrated by lifted his chunky little hands to me.
I raised an eyebrow and grinned. "Are we going to play with them?" I asked, waiting for him to reel off the litany of fun we could have with the psychotic Fairies. I nodded to Jane and Martha to come and get him. There was no reason for him to see this.
He glanced over his shoulder at the purple clad dingbats and quickly leaned into my ear. "Mommy, we do what makes right. We no kill the Fawies who are only little bit bad. Sammy can show you the good boys and girls and the bad ones."
I held up a hand to halt Martha and Jane. "How can you do that?"
His grin was mixed with innocence and devilish mischief. He was definitely a descendent of both Heaven and Hell. He was gonna be something someday…or maybe that day was today.
"Me show you?" he asked.
"I don't know," Ethan cut in as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration and indecision. "He's seen enough."
"Oh my Daddy, hush." Sammy giggled and hugged his father's legs. "Me is more than you know." He raised his blond eyebrows and looked so much like Ethan I had to grin.
"Trust me," Ethan muttered with a smile that looked more like a grimace. "We know."
Some of the Fairies in the air grew impatient and some watched the scene play out below in silence. Waiting for your fate had to suck, but waiting to get your child back from being kidnapped and sliced up sucked far worse. They could hang there for days for all I cared. My magic would hold—I hoped.
"Mommy, me show you." He toddled forward and all the Fairies blanched in fear. It was then another puzzle piece snapped together. Samuel had been responsible for the burned out hallways and colorful skin of the Fairies. My son was the disease that they feared. Priceless. Although they looked so heinous now, bright yellow and blue skin might actually help.
"Hold up your hands like Patty Cake, Fawies," he yelled.
They did not heed my son's request. My son did not like this. He stomped his foot and right before our shocked eyes, my baby began to sparkle, but this was not what astonished me. I had expected him to sparkle and shoot flames from his fingertips. What I didn't expect was my perfect child to shift forms. Who did he inherit that from?
My gaze shot of Ethan, who shrugged, grinned and shook his head in defeat. Clearly, our son had been watching cartoons while in Xanthia—more specifically Looney Tunes. He was a mixture of animated Heaven and Hell. The top half of his sturdy little body was bathed in light and a halo crowned his angelic blond curls. Downy white wings tipped in sparkling gold shot out from his shoulder blades, but that was not the kicker. He had hooves— red hooves and scaly red legs that were topped by a long forked tail. He was a half angel half devil right out of Bugs Bunny.
Ethan moved forward and whispered in my ear, "Holy shit, I'm not sure whether to laugh or cry. We're going to have our hands full."
"Understatement," I muttered. From here on out, TV was a big no for our little bundle of joy. There was no way I wanted to see him shift into Spongebob or Cartman.
We stood back and waited to see what he would do. Part of me hoped he would fry them all. However, that kind of defeated the purpose of separating the good from the evil, but I was still so angry that rational thought was difficult.