“The wheel in the sky keeps on turning,” Satan sang as he played an air guitar in his sleep.
“Oh shit no,” I blubbered as I wiped tears from my eyes. “He’s changed songs.”
“How can you even tell?” Mother Nature questioned as she cringed in mortification at her son’s total lack of talent. “You do realize if you video this we could make billions.”
The suggestion was truly tempting. I could give all the money to charity. We’d make Bill Gates look like a weenie. But again, I knew I probably wouldn’t live to see the fruits of my labor if I did it.
“No, we’ll keep this one in-house,” I said firmly. “I’d like to live to see my son grow up.”
“That could be tomorrow at the rate he’s growing,” Mother Nature said.
She was correct. My son was maturing at alarming rates. There were no instructional baby books for a half Demon-Half Vampyre baby that also happened to be a True Immortal. He’d grown to the size of a preschooler in less than eight months and his intellect rivaled an adult genius. At least he still wanted to cuddle with his mommy. I so wasn’t ready to give that up yet.
“I think it would be best if we put a sock in his mouth and we all tried to get a few hours sleep,” Ethan suggested.
“Fine idea,” Mother Nature agreed as she found a purple sock in her overnight bag and stuffed it in the Devil’s open mouth. “That should do it.”
She then gave her son—the same one that she’d suggest we humiliate worldwide—a loving kiss on the cheek as she smoothed his dark hair gently back from his face.
“He’s too damned good looking for his own good,” she muttered as she crawled back into her cot. “It’s probably a good thing he can’t sing. One shouldn’t be good at everything. It would make life quite boring.”
She yawned and curled into a ball.
“Night, Gigi,” I said as I grabbed Ethan’s hand and wondered how long it would take my grandmother to fall back asleep. I really wanted to suck face with my man.
“And PS,” Gigi added. “Making out is a bad idea.”
“Wait. What? You were snoring for God’s sake,” I blurted.
“Don’t take your Uncle’s name in vain,” she chastised with a chuckle. “He doesn’t like it. And I don’t snore.”
“Um… yes you do,” I told her. “Loudly.”
“Darling, I’m Mother Nature. I’m fucking perfect. The snoring is a ruse to see if anyone is talking behind my back—or goodness forbid—having sex in a public venue. Now go to sleep, darling. Tomorrow promises to be a clusterfuck.”
I feared she was correct—actually I knew she was correct.
I grabbed Ethan’s hand and closed my eyes. Tomorrow was coming whether I wanted it to or not. Christmas Day with my family would be rough. Christmas day with my family and me running on no sleep would be dangerous.
“I love you, Ethan,” I whispered.
“I love you more, Astrid,” he replied sleepily.
“Not possible,” I said so quietly, I was sure he missed it.
But it wasn’t possible. I had so much love stored up inside, I knew I was the winner. For me the sun rose and set on my mate and my son.
I glanced around the now horribly decorated room compliments of Satan and rolled my eyes.
Did the trappings matter? Well, kind of… at least the gorgeous tree was still intact and no one else had shown up early.
The baboon hadn’t clogged the toilet and Samuel was sucking his thumb contentedly.
My uncle’s muffled singing was barely audible and Gigi was snoring away again.
For the moment, my crazy family was nestled all snug in their… cots.
I giggled and let my head drop to my pillow. Then I counted my blessings—there were many—and fell asleep.
Chapter 7
“Holy plastic Baby Jesus in a manger from Target, will someone please tell me I’m dreaming?” I choked out.
I stared in shock at the rock star who was gagged and tied to a chair next to my Christmas tree. There was no way Santa had delivered a bound and gagged Steve Perry to my house during the few short hours I’d slept. Santa’s sleigh was supposed to be full of toys, not kidnap victims.
Whipping around, I zoned in on Satan. He was still fast asleep with a sock stuffed in his mouth. If he didn’t do this, who did?
“Shhhhhhh… Astrid,” Sloth whispered right next to my ear, scaring the Hell out of me. “Don’t wake Daddy up. It’s a surprise.”
Steve Perry didn’t look too happy about being the gift for the Devil… and who could blame him?
I rubbed my tired eyes and pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t still sleeping and having a heinous nightmare.
Nope, not sleeping. Six of the Seven Deadly Sins stood in my Great Room at the foot of my makeshift bed. Dressed to the nines and literally glowing with excitement, they waited for their father to wake up to his appalling gift.
Lust was absent as she was still incarcerated at Mother Nature’s abode. Her list of transgressions was huge, but her attempt to murder me was the topper that got her locked away.
“You can’t give the Devil someone like Steve Perry all trussed up and totally freaked out,” I snapped.
I eased myself off the cot and checked Steve Perry’s ropes to make sure they hadn’t cut off his circulation. All I needed to cap off my list of Christmas disasters was a dead rock star in my house.