Home > Fashionably Dead and Wed (Hot Damned #7)(17)

Fashionably Dead and Wed (Hot Damned #7)(17)
Author: Robyn Peterman

“This meeting is adjourned until tomorrow morning. Venus, please show our guests to their suites,” Ethan instructed abruptly.

“Yes, sire,” Venus replied as she opened the door and waited for the entourage to exit with her hand placed very purposely on her sword.

“It was a pleasure to see the child,” Trista said with a bow to Ethan and me. “I’d love to spend some time with him if you will allow it.”

“We shall see,” Ethan said in a cool tone as he took Samuel from me and went back behind his desk. “I do appreciate your concerns. However, I’m not convinced you four are not part of the problem. Please tread lightly and don’t do anything that will make me lose sleep by having to kill you.”

“And on that note, I shall take my leave,” Spike said with a deep bow. “I believe there’s a Twilight marathon on HBO this fine evening.”

No one blinked an eye at Spike’s announcement and they all filed out. Mary was the last one to leave and gave Ethan a lingering hungry look that he missed because he was busy cuddling Samuel. However, I didn’t miss it. She was chapping my ass.

As the door closed behind them, Pam heaved out a huge sigh of relief that made me jealous I couldn’t breathe.

“Well, who in the fuck thought dressing Martha and Jane up as nuns was a good idea?” Pam asked as she got to her feet and took Samuel from Ethan.

“Watch your damn language in front of the baby,” I admonished her. “I punished Martha and Jane for accidentally opening a portal full of Demons. They have to wear clothing that covers their bodies until further notice. I thought the nun thing was pretty funny until it became a reality,” I mumbled, avoiding Ethan’s I told you so look.

“I thought it was rather delightful,” Gareth said as he sat down on the couch in exhaustion. “I’m not sure I’ll attend anymore of these meetings. I think my presence might weaken us.”

“No,” Heathcliff disagreed. He took Raquel’s hand and crossed to Gareth. “We’re weaker if we hide you. Gossip travels quickly and we don’t need it getting out that you’ve gone into seclusion or you’re dead. Trust me, the entire population will hear of this evening and that you were part of it.”

“And that’s a good thing?” the King asked worriedly.

“It is. We don’t need our people believing their leaders are dying off. The Royal Family has enough real problems at the moment. We don’t need any false ones floating around,” Ethan said and then turned his attention to our happily babbling son. “Samuel, how did you know that Spike played soccer?”

“Spike really plays soccer?” I asked, alarmed. I thought maybe Samuel had just guessed.

Shit.

“He did,” Ethan confirmed. “He’s been an Olympian many times over. His gift is morphing. He can take on other’s forms—which in turn makes it possible for him to play soccer at a high level for many years and not get caught.”

“He morphs like Jean Paul,” Raquel added.

Jean Paul was Raquel’s half-brother that she’d turned centuries ago. He’d recently voluntarily morphed into my insane sister Juliette when we were trying to trap and catch Vlad—aka Dracula. The move had failed, but because of witnessing Vlad’s unforgivable murderous transgressions, the Angels now believed that he needed to be eliminated. The Holy Whack Jobs were hunting him just like we were. Of course they had more at stake considering one of their own was responsible for placing the curse for Vlad that was killing Gareth, Leila, Nathan and Alexander. It was a big fat immortal clusterfuck.

“I find it offensive that you Americans call football, soccer,” Gareth said with a wince of distaste.

“Whatever, I’m still stuck on the fact that Spike could potentially turn himself into one of us,” I muttered with concern. “Was he as good a soccer player as Pele?”

“He was Pele,” Ethan answered.

“Sorry? I’m pretty sure Pele is still alive.”

“He is,” the King said with a grin. “Spike just played a good portion of his games during his career.”

“Does Pele know this?” I asked trying to wrap my head around the bizarre ways my people found to amuse themselves.

“Of course he does,” Raquel explained. “He’s a Unicorn.”

“Shut the front fucking door,” I shouted. “Two Unicorns in one day?”

“Fucking door,” Samuel squealed with glee as I slapped my hand over my offensive mouth.

Politely ignoring my faux pas with only a tiny eye roll, Ethan stuck to the matter at hand. “Who else is a Unicorn?” he inquired as he fished a roll of duct tape from a drawer in his desk.

“Steve Perry is a Unicorn,” I told him as I took the tape and ripped off a large piece.

“Well that certainly explains why he didn’t have to be institutionalized after his Christmas abduction,” Ethan commented wryly. “However, I’m not quite done with our little man. Samuel, could you tell that Spike played soccer by touching him?”

“Yes, Daddy! Me tell lots of things by touching people.”

“Shit,” I mumbled as my body dropped like a sack of potatoes into the oversized leather chair next to Ethan’s desk.

My child’s scary talents grew by the day. No, make that by the hour…

“Shit,” Samuel yelled and then pumped his hands over his head in victory.

   
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