She giggled and gave me a kiss. “Of course I can stay cloaked. I’m a Master fucking Vampyre,” she whispered.
“That you are, my love. Everyone ready?” I asked.
The chorus of yeses were strong and confident.
It was time to go kick some Vamp ass—well one Vamp’s ass. I just hoped it didn’t result in a war.
Chapter 20
It was a shit show of epic proportions…
Never, ever again would I ask Satan for help.
“Oh my God,” Jean Paul shouted over the din of Angels and Vampyres arguing at ear splitting levels. “This is not what I was expecting.”
“Fucking awesome,” Pam bellowed as she took in the scene.
Satan stood calmly smiling in the middle of the pristine white great room while accusations flew. He was clearly not a welcome visitor. I glanced around looking for Astrid, Ethan and Gareth, but they were nowhere to be found, Neither was the guest I requested the Devil bring.
I glanced up to the Heavens and thanked God for small favors. Clearly Satan hadn’t retrieved Bela Lugosi… yet. I needed to call off my request or at least save it until we needed it for a distraction. However, getting to the Devil was an issue. Not only were loud disagreements going on, there was an inordinate amount of pushing and shoving—fangs and wings were clashing.
Son of a bitch…
“Good evening everyone. So sorry to be late to the clusterfuck. I was busy taking a shit on the stock market. It’s so delightful to play with such greedy fuckers,” Satan bellowed joyously as the crowd—both Angels and Vampyres—froze in horror. “I must say, I did some outstanding damage to the tech sector.”
The silence was loaded. The grumbling started slowly and rose steadily. It was a very well known fact that Vampyres and Angels were heavily invested in technology—especially the Old Guard Vamps. The rabid displeasure and the nervous tapping of phones sounding like frantic tap dancing. Clearly they were checking their stocks. The shocked grunts and hisses of fury confirmed that Satan had indeed taken a shit on the stock market.
“Yes,” the Devil purred as his eyes turned red with glee. “I do believe I leveled a few big ones.”
His laugh was positively maniacal and it was difficult not to join him. The expressions of rage on the faces of the Old Guard were tremendously enjoyable. Of course, I probably suffered some losses due to Satan’s screwing with the market, but I didn’t give a shit. Money came and money went. The need for endless riches had never defined me.
“This Summit did not include any invitations for Demons,” Vlad sneered as he stepped forward out of the crowd and went toe to toe with the irreverent King of the Underworld.
Holy Hell, Vlad was as stupid as he was arrogant—but mostly stupid. Satan was not someone to fuck with.
“Now that’s just rude,” Satan pouted and made himself comfortable on a nearby couch.
“You must leave. Now,” Vlad continued cockily as he puffed out his chest and postured.
“But I brought some of your friends, Dracula,” Satan informed Vlad in a silky tone that made everyone in the room uncomfortable.
A few snickers escaped at Satan’s use of the despised moniker, but they were quickly muffled as Vlad snapped his head around to find the perpetrators. The arrogant Vampyre literally seethed with anger at the name he so hated, but the feral look on Satan’s face stopped him from writing his own death warrant by attacking him.
Wait. What the Hell did Satan mean by friends? I’d only requested Bella Lugosi.
“Yes, it was tiresome to gather such an illustrious group together, but I’m quite sure it shall be well worth it,” Satan said breezily as he stood and took a few steps toward Vlad.
The Vampyre took several steps back, but then stood his ground. Vlad’s power couldn’t be discounted and Satan was very aware of this fact. He watched Vlad through a narrowed gaze and an evil little grin on his lips.
“I’m sure I have no clue what you’re speaking of,” Vlad spat. “But you are not welcome here, Beelzebub. You are neither Angel nor Vampyre.”
“Ahhhhh….,” Satan shot back smoothly with an undercurrent of menace that made me yet again regret asking for his assistance. “That’s where you’re wrong, Dracula.”
Vlad’s body shook with outrage at Satan’s repeated use of the detested title, but he held himself at bay. “I don’t believe I am wrong, Demon.”
“If you weren’t such an infuriating blowhard asshole, I might actually like you. I usually adore cretins like you, but there’s something wildly unappealing about you,” Satan told him as he conjured a glass of wine out of thin air and took a calculated sip. “I’m a Fallen Angel, you imbecile. I have every right to be here,” he hissed venomously as Vlad took another few discreet steps back.
“He’s correct,” Roberto, the Angel in charge said as he closed his eyes and expelled an enormous put upon sigh. “We may not want him here, but he does have the right to be present.”
“Thank you, Roberto.” Satan winked at the annoyed Angel. “I’d say it’s lovely to see you again, but it’s not.”
“And the same to you, Lucifer,” Roberto replied dryly. “How long are you planning to stay?”
“Not long,” Satan assured a somewhat relieved Roberto. “Just long enough to stir the pot a bit—so to speak.”
“I see,” said Roberto as sparks of displeasure began to float around his body. “Satan?”