My baby’s blue eyes were sleepy as he’d just woken up from his morning nap and he smelled like heaven. Colorful toys and stuffed animals of every sort were strewn all over the bright, cheery, yellow nursery with dinosaur scenes painted on the walls. It was all kinds of perfect. I glanced up at the sky blue ceiling with puffy white clouds and a sun peeking out from the corner and smiled. Running my fingers through his curls made me forget about the bizarre morning.
“Mommy, me know what you’re doing,” Samuel said, stroking my face and planting a wet kiss on my cheek.
“What am I doing?” I asked with faux innocence as I returned the smooch with great pleasure.
“You is making sure that me be a good boy in Hell,” he replied with a mischievous little grin.
“Possibly,” I agreed with a smile, pulling a Superman t-shirt over his head and then trying to tame his wild blond curls.
I stared at my baby and a teeny tiny eeny weenie part of me wished I could give him a sister or a brother. Yes, pregnancy sucked, but the prize at the end was worth every craving, ache and pain I’d had. The debatably rational side of my brain knew it would never happen, but…
“How bout this,” Samuel suggested with an adorably evil little smirk as he pulled off the Superman t-shirt and replaced it with a Napoleon Dynamite one. “How bout me be a good boy and we get a baboon friend for Blobbityflonk?”
“Hmmm, interesting,” I replied, squinting at my little deal-maker. “Two questions. Are you blackmailing your mommy and have you watched the movie Napoleon Dynamite?”
Samuel clasped his small hands together and gave me a mini eye roll—very reminiscent of his father. It was all I could do not to laugh. He was perfect and mine. Granted, my son was one powerful little sucker, but he was still my baby.
“Me no blackmail you, mommy,” Samuel explained seriously, pointing a chubby finger in my face and pressing on my nose. “Me see an opening and me take it. And yes, the Baby Demons showed me the movie.”
“Figures,” I muttered as I scooped him up and tossed him in the air, much to his great delight. He was getting bigger by the day, but my Vampyre strength came in very handy when playing with my child.
“Okaaaaaaay,” my little man said, regrouping his tactics. “How bout me no turn people purple if mommy say no potty words at wedding?”
“That’s a very dangerous deal on my part,” I said as I wrinkled my nose and realized we might be in the market for a new baboon. “Mommy is working very hard to correct her, um… habit… but sometimes I mess up.”
“It’s okay, mommy,” Samuel assured me with adoration shining from his eyes. “You a good mommy even though you say poopy bad words.”
I stilled and felt like I wanted to cry. I was a good mom. I loved my child and I told him so everyday. I’d never had that kind of love from my mother and I made damn sure Samuel knew how I felt about him. I was only a semi-pushover where he was concerned and I would die for him in a heartbeat.
My baby counted on me and I had every intention of being there for him until the end of time. Considering we were immortal, the end of time was accurate. Why in the fucking Hell couldn’t I stop swearing for him? What was wrong with me? Was he going to incur huge therapy bills because of my sailor’s mouth? Hell, that was probably the least of our problems where the need for therapy was concerned. With a dysfunctional family consisting of Satan, Mother Nature, Demons, Vampyres and Angels galore, it was a good thing we had a bunch of money. Samuel’s head shrinking bills were going to be enormous in the near future.
“It’s a deal,” I said before I could think too hard about the reality of what I’d just agreed to. “Mommy will not say one poopy word at the wedding and you will refrain from altering the color of the guest’s skin.”
“I’m sorry,” Ethan said as he entered the nursery and stopped dead in his tracks. “What was that?”
“Mommy no say fucker and me no turn people green at the wedding!” Samuel announced to his shocked father with glee.
For one of the most powerful Vampyres in the world, my beautiful mate was at a total loss for what to do. He could take down armies, but raising a child was a Hell of a lot harder, especially with me as his baby’s mother.
Crapballs.
“Samuel, if I can’t say fucker, you cannot say fucker. In fact, you can’t say fucker ever. Clear?” I said trying to gain back some ground by sounding responsible even though I’d just used the word fucker twice in a sentence.
“Dear God,” Ethan said as he pressed his temples and closed his eyes. “And if mommy drops a potty word at the nuptials our guests get rainbow skin?”
“No, silly daddy. If mommy has poop mouth, me get another baboon!”
“And the day gets better,” Ethan said as he grabbed our son and buried his nose in his hair.
“What do you mean by better?” I asked warily.
“Well,” Ethan said, putting Samuel down in front of his train set and getting comfortable on the couch. “I’ve been running from an obese Demon named Doug for the last hour who insists that he’s supposed to teach me to dance. He’s very fortunate he’s still alive.”
I nodded my head and gave Ethan a weak smile.
“As if that wasn’t enough to start the day right, your grandmother is here with cakes—wedding cakes to be precise. The visiting male Vampyres have made repeated mentions of my porksword and several more portals have reopened,” he finished with a frown marring his handsome face.