Astrid considered him for a long moment and then grinned. “I think I like you,” she said with a laugh. “And because I like you, and everyone else in this little Hell-hole we’re calling a room—for lack of a better word—I’m not going to break this spell.”
“That sounds distinctly like you don’t like me,” Gareth shot back.
Astrid shook her head and stepped back.
“You really can’t help him?” Raquel asked with disappointment.
“If you guys want the entire Catacombs and possibly a good portion of Paris to cave in, then I’m your girl. This is a job for someone—and I hate to admit this—but someone with a little more finesse than I possess at present.”
“You’re talking Satan, aren’t you?” Ethan inquired with a grimace.
“Yep,” Astrid confirmed slowly. “We’ll owe him though.”
“Only I will owe him,” I cut in. “I’ve already called him. He can simply add it to my tab.”
“You’ve clearly got it very bad for my sister or you’re simply insane,” Gareth said. “If anyone will owe the bastard, it will be me.”
“No,” Raquel insisted. “I can take the brunt of responsibility.”
“Absolutely not,” Ethan ground out. “You’re far too attractive to owe the unscrupulous son of a bitch a favor. And you’re my sister, damn it.”
I agreed wholeheartedly with Ethan.
“Oh for God’s sake,” Raquel snapped. “I’m not a helpless damsel in distress. I’m a Master fucking Vampyre.”
“Good use of the word fucking,” Astrid said, congratulating her. “Master motherfucking Vampyre would have been stronger though.”
“Astrid’s correct,” Gareth chimed in. “Although Master motherfucking cocksucking crotch-less panty wearing Vampyre would have been more unsettling… and therefore more powerful.”
We all took a brief moment to digest that one. I glared at the aging Vampyre who still had nothing but sex on his mind.
“You really need to get laid,” I told Gareth with a grimace.
“Is it that obvious?” he inquired sheepishly.
“Yep, it is. And none of you will owe my dear Uncle Fucker anything. He owes me several favors and I shall call one in. Back up. This could get messy,” Astrid warned.
We gave her room. An eerie silence fell over the cave as she closed her eyes and raised her hands high. A gentle breeze whipped up from out of nowhere. Raquel moved to me and I wrapped her in my arms.
Astrid chanted in a long dead language as she sparkled like a beacon. We watched in awe as my cousin swayed to an ancient rhythm that only she could hear. Ethan’s tension was palpable and I understood. My memory burned with watching Raquel summon, then dispatch the wraiths. It was horrific. However, Satan adored his niece. The ramifications of Astrid summoning the Devil were far less dangerous. It wasn’t without risk, but Astrid was one of the few that had Beelzebub by the balls.
“This had better be good,” a familiar and ominous voice purred from the darkness. “And Astrid darling, if you insist on calling me Uncle Fucker, I’ll renege on letting you hold your wedding in Hell.”
“Wait. What?” Ethan shouted.
“Quiet,” Astrid hissed under her breath. “I’ll explain later.”
That announcement was a total shocker and I held my laughter with difficulty. Raquel gave me a what the Hell? look and I shrugged.
Who knew what Astrid was cooking up for her nuptials? As a rule Vampyres didn’t marry. Marriage was a breakable bond and mating was not. Astrid, being a very new Vampyre, still held on to human traditions and Ethan happily granted her every whim. Honestly at first I thought it foolish, but promising to love and honor the one you loved in front of family and friends didn’t seem so witless to me anymore…
“So what have we here?” Satan asked as he examined the ward with distaste.
He traced small symbols in the air that materialized and shuddered as they tried to pierce the invisible wall. Satan was a huge and imposing man. His very presence changed the atmosphere in the cave from eerie to menacing.
“Well?” Astrid asked as she stepped up next to her Uncle.
“Very sloppy,” he said with narrowed eyes and thin lips. “However, it’s laced with something other than Demon magic. This will require three favors from you, Astrid.”
“But I only have two as you know,” Astrid informed him as she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the King of the Underworld.
“Oh my goodness, you’re correct,” he said with wide innocent eyes and an evil little chuckle. “I suppose an early invitation to Christmas next year would wipe the slate clean.”
“Fuck,” Ethan muttered
Astrid immediately turned and punched her mate in the arm.
Satan had almost single handedly taken down Christmas at the Cressida House a few months prior. Of course, he’d had help from Mother Nature and his daughters, the Seven Deadly Sins. The kidnapping of Steve Perry, aka Journey’s front man, would forever go down in history.
“If, and I mean if, I say yes, you are strictly forbidden to enhance even one decoration,” she bargained.
“Not even one?” He pouted and stamped his Armani clad foot. “Where’s the fun in that?”
“Not even one. There will be no kidnapping of rock stars and you can’t spend the night,” she ground out.