Satan’s elongated sssss now made sense. He didn’t have a lisp, he was reminding Roberto of the role he’d played in Eden. I’d always thought the snake was Satan, but I also thought the Pope still wore red shoes.
The Angel’s hiss of rage momentarily made me doubt using the information, but winning was never easy. It would be quite boring if it were simple.
“I can cloak. I can hide my scent, and I can also kill you. Permanently,” he ground out with lips barely moving.
“Perhaps,” I agreed as I felt Raquel squeeze my arm tightly. “But I’d put up a Hell of a fight. It would stand to reason if I have this knowledge others might too. Killing me might open a can of wormsssssssss that would have you spending more time with your comrade in Hell.”
“Enough,” Roberto snapped. “I will do as you ask… this time. I will not be blackmailed into anything in the future. Are we clear?”
“Very,” I replied in a clipped tone. “After Satan brings in his guests… ”
“You mean his kidnap victims?” Roberto corrected.
“Semantics,” I replied smoothly, ignoring his sharp intake of breath at my insolence. “After Vlad sees the guests, I’m quite sure he’ll leave the room. Cloak yourself and follow him. I’ll be with you.”
The Angel stared at me through hooded eyes. His lips thinned and he made a low whistling sound through his clenched teeth. “You have large balls for a Vampyre,” Roberto commented.
“Thank you,” I replied trying not to wince at the pinch my mate delivered to my ass.
“Wasn’t a compliment,” he shot back. “You have a plan?”
“I have a plan,” I confirmed as he looked at me doubtfully.
“I will do this more out of curiosity than any allegiance to your Royal Family.”
“I beg to differ,” Pam hissed under her breath.
“What was that?” Roberto inquired.
“I said I feel like a heifer,” Pam lied with a serene smile. “Ate my own weight in whipped cream about a half hour ago.”
Before Roberto could reply a hush fell over the two hundred Vamps and Angels in the great room.
Satan was back and all fucking Hell was about to break loose.
Chapter 21
“No fucking way,” I muttered as I watched Satan stroll back into the room with a terrified entourage—two of them weren’t even dead yet.
“No one will believe this,” Pam said as she yanked out her cell phone and hit record.
This was not what I’d requested and my stomach clenched. I was torn between laughing at the Devil’s selection and roaring that the use of humans, no matter how amusing, was unacceptable.
Bela Lugosi was dead and understood the Underworld, immortals and all the rest of the shit that went on under the human’s noses. He apparently enjoyed visiting Hell on a regular basis. There was even a rumor he’d once beat Mr. Rogers at poker—a difficult feat at best. I could only assume Leslie Nielson was also up to speed on the bizarre goings on in the afterlife. His somewhat calm demeanor led me to hope this was accurate.
However, Gary Oldman and George Hamilton appeared to be on the verge of a mental breakdown or pissing themselves. Not good. Not good at all.
All of the men were clad in Dracula costumes from their respective films. The unfortunate atrocious bun—for lack of a better word—on Oldman’s head was at least twice the size I’d remembered from watching the movie. Satan was positively giddy as he lined the four men up on a raised platform at the far end of the large room.
“On three boys,” he directed.
The crowd surged forward toward the evening’s unusual entertainment, but all eyes were on Vlad. He had gone utterly still and red flames began to shoot out around him. It was highly doubtful he would incinerate the Angel’s great room, but the expression on his face didn’t bode well for a damage free evening.
“What is going on?” Roberto demanded as he waved his hands and turned all the bars covering the windows and doors in the room to ash. “What is that idiot thinking?”
I decided to keep the information that Bela Lugosi had been my idea to myself. I figured since Satan had taken it upon himself to bring four Draculas, not just one. I was off the hook.
“It’s a ploy to piss Vlad off and separate him from the Old Guard,” I explained quickly as I took his arm and pulled him to a position closer to Vlad. Losing him would be disastrous. Raquel was next to me. I could feel her even though I couldn’t see her. I made sure Jean Paul stayed close as well.
Roberto’s chuckle took me by surprise. “Fucking brilliant,” he muttered.
Damn it, if I’d known he would approve, I would have taken credit.
“Your Majesty and Pam,” I instructed in a whisper. “Find Ethan, Astrid and the rest. If Satan’s back they should be here too. Get them up to speed and have them ready to fight.”
“But I need to film this shit,” Pam said.
“Trust me. It’s being filmed,” I told her.
Cell phones were out and aimed at both the stage and Vlad. There would have to be major damage control after this one.
“Come,” the King said as he took Pam’s hand and quickly slipped from the room.
And the show continued…
“One, two, three,” Satan bellowed, barely able to contain himself.
“I vant to drink your blood,” the four men choked out in a strangled whisper.