“A little business needs addressing in Oklahoma,” he replied, annoyed.
“Need help?” I asked hesitantly, hoping he’d say no. If there was a problem, it most likely had to do with Vamps. The Vamps in Oklahoma were assholes. They didn’t like me, and I didn’t like them. Referring to their compound as the hairy armpit of the USA hadn’t landed well. They were ancient, old-school and bitchy. Last time I’d had the displeasure of seeing them, they’d come at me over the fact that I’d made a decree that all undead had to pay taxes. And when I say came at me, I mean they came at me with swords and axes. I’d had to remove multiple arms and legs. Only one head, though. Suffice it to say, I wasn’t popular in Oklahoma.
“I’m good,” Ethan said with a chuckle. “I think your presence might cause a riot.”
“Word,” I replied with a giggle. “Will you be gone long?”
“Nope,” he replied, kissing the top of my head. “A day or two at the most. I’ll take a few generals with me.”
If Ethan was bringing backup, it was dangerous. I pursed my lips. “What’s the issue?”
He shook his head. “Not clear—just whispers of discontent. I’m going to cut off any unsavory behavior before it becomes a real problem.”
The love of my undead life didn’t mess around when it came to our people blending into society. We were a secret species that lived somewhat public lives. The undead had lived in relative harmony with humankind for millions of years. Part of Ethan’s duty as the Price was to keep it that way. If humans discovered that Vampyres lived next door to them, all Hell would break loose.
As always, we worried about each other. He was protective of my safety. I behaved the same with his. Vamps were very hard to kill, although, silver through the heart or decapitation definitely could do the trick. Just ask the misfortunate asshole in Oklahoma.
“So, what are we looking at?” he inquired, scanning the grounds through the window.
“Not sure, but nothing’s wrong-wrong,” I assured him. I pointed to the area at the far-left side of the rose garden. “I can’t figure out what I’m looking at. What do you think that is?”
Ethan scrubbed his hand over his chin and leaned so far forward the tip of his nose touched the glass. “I honestly have no clue. Doesn’t look threatening.” He checked his phone. “The perimeter guards haven’t reported any unusual activity.”
Vampyre vision was outstanding. It was confounding that we couldn’t figure out the mystery.
Until I squinted harder.
“Jesus Hesus Christ,” I said with a groan, taking my lovely Cousin Jesus’ name in vain. “I think it’s very shiny albinos sunbathing. Naked. But they have hair.” I was so confused.
“Incredibly strange pastime for Vampyres,” Ethan commented. “Although…” He paused as he stared. “I think you’re correct. Has to be Martha and Jane.”
Martha and Jane. The batshit crazy banes of my existence. The two old bags that I’d had turned when they lay dying at my feet. They’d driven me nuts when I was human and drove me to want to drink now that we were all technically dead. To be fair, I secretly loved the hideously dressed old bats. They’d saved our son when he was a baby and were as loyal as they came. However, they were also disgusting and socially inept disasters.
The gals were mated to one of my favorite Demons, Lizard. The guy wore tracksuits, berets, carried a baseball bat, chewed gum incessantly, and could shift into an enormous scaly monster—hence his nickname. I didn’t even know his real name. He went by Lizard. As Uncle Fucker’s righthand man, he was both feared and respected. I adored him. Couldn’t understand his adoration of Martha and Jane, but love was unpredictable. Or, in his case, blind.
“What the actual…?” I questioned, squinting even harder. “There’s three of them. Definitely Martha and Jane, and they’re slathered up in a thick layer of white zinc.” Which is why they looked like albinos. But who was the other vampire with them? “They’ve convinced or blackmailed another Vamp to sunbathe with them, but under all that sunscreen, I can’t tell who it is.”
“I’m voting for blackmail,” Ethan said, as he opened the closet and armed himself for the Oklahoma visit. “While most of the Vampyres living in the compound are old enough to endure sunlight, purposely tanning is asking for trouble and serious third-degree burns.”
“Welp.” I shook my head. “Guess I’ll go out and save Jane and Martha’s victim. Might even have to zap the old biddies bald.” Taking another glance, I gasped.
“What?” Ethan asked, alarmed.
“Boobs,” I whispered.
He tilted his head in confusion. “I’m terrified to inquire, but would you care to be more specific?”
I looked one more time. It was confirmed. “Okay,” I said, leaning down, pulling on my favorite tennis shoes and tying them. For a hot sec, I realized why God liked slip-on Sketchers. Pushing the thought away, I got back to business. “Martha and Jane have saggy torpedo tits.”
“I have no clue where this is going,” Ethan muttered with a pained grimace.
“Getting there,” I promised. “Two of the three slimy albino-looking vamps are definitely Martha and Jane, but they have enormous pert knockers. How is that possible? I thought surgery didn’t work on dead people.”
“It doesn’t,” Ethan confirmed.
“Come look,” I insisted. “I’m sure they’re sporting D cups.”
Ethan shook his head, held his hands up in surrender and laughed. “Astrid, I love you. I would die for you. However, looking at something that would cause me to have to bleach my eyes is where I’m going to draw the line.”
