Her head, or rather mine, fell to her chest. “There are ten million ways that the plan you just suggested could blow up in our faces.”
“Yes, well, me attacking your mate for trying to kiss or fondle me would end far worse,” I replied flatly. “I’d say that this issue is far more crucial than you having to touch my fabulous wank to piss.”
“Cock or dick,” Jane corrected me.
“That’s what I said,” I snapped.
“You said wank,” she insisted.
It took all I had not to obliterate her. “I wouldnotcall my enormous cock a wank. Ever.”
“You did,” Astrid told me, trying not to smirk and failing miserably. “You called your peen a wank, Uncle Fucker.”
“Yep,” Lizard agreed. “Although you did say fabulous wank if that makes any difference.”
“Pardon me,” I said. Standing up in my Crocs and housedress, I marched across the foyer and threw open the front door. The gorgeous sunny afternoon mocked our Hellish predicament. I stepped outside, and with a quick swipe of my hand, I blew up the rose garden and decimated all of the flowering trees. I considered leveling the Cressida House, but that would be rude. Trying to expel a satisfied sigh didn’t work. When one didn’t breathe, one couldn’t sigh. That nifty fact made me want to create an Olympic sized crater in the yard, but I refrained. I’d save that move for later. I was certain I would need the release.
Astrid joined me at the door. She sighed. I wanted to punch her, but knew better. She had a vicious right hook and wasn’t afraid to use it.
“Do you feel better?” she inquired sarcastically.
“Somewhat,” I said. “Destruction calms me.”
We watched in silence as the formerly stunning manicured lawn smoldered. Astrid didn’t chastise me. She didn’t yell. She didn’t zap me. My niece just looked bummed.
Crap. Shit. Crap. Feelings, mine specifically, were quite bothersome. Ever since I fell in love with Elle and we had our son, Luke, I’d been bombarded with fucking feelings. It was awful.
Covertly glancing at Astrid, I actually felt bad. It was uncomfortable and foreign.
One of the things that Sogdroth had been on my ass about was needlessly destroying that which didn’t belong to me. I found it absurd. I was the Devil. I did what I wanted when I wanted. Period. However, the head-shrinking jackass told me that wasn’t the way to make or keep friends. He also inferred that people would cease to invite me over if I repeatedly bombed their property.
“Umm…” I began, not quite sure how to do what I was about to do. “I can… umm… you know, call on some Demons to replant the yard.”
She glanced over at me and gave me a small lopsided grin. “Was that an apology, Uncle Fucker?”
“Absolutely not,” I huffed. “It was more of a… a way to earn brownie points from Sogdroth, my asshole therapist. He’s a real bastard, and I vowed not to disembowel him. I regret that vow tremendously. However, the man goes into a state of shock every time I do something that adheres to polite societal norms. And since I can’t kill him, giving him a heart attack seems fitting.”
Astrid chuckled. “You’re a piece of work.”
“Thank you.”
“Wasn’t a compliment,” she replied. “Let’s go back in and get the call to Ethan over with.”
“Really?” I asked with a wince.
Her expression matched mine. “Yes. I say we make our lives as easy as possible this week. Is there any chance Elle will show up?”
I shook my head. “None. She’s with Luke and her man-eating relatives on Siren Island for the month.”
“Right,” she said. “Martha and Jane had mentioned that.” She paused then pulled the door shut behind us for privacy. “What do you think of Connie Raven Enid Delacroix?”
Leaning in, I whispered. “I don’t trust the whack job. You?”
“Same,” she replied. “What was up with the dates she spewed off to Gigi?”
My brow furrowed in thought. “I don’t know, which is shocking, considering I know everything. I’ll put Lizard on it. I feel like it’s a fucking clue.”
She nodded then I opened the door. We walked side by side back into the mansion. The Devil and the Vampyre Princess.
Kind of…
