7
SATAN
We’d transportedto London en masse. It was a regrettable move. I’d gotten slapped silly by Martha’s appalling jugs, and Astrid hadn’t fared much better next to Jane. Only Lizard seemed to have enjoyed the bumpy ride. The Demon was wacked.
It was noon in London. Of course, if I’d stuck with the rules of the Universe, it would be midnight. That simply wouldn’t do. Instead, I fucked with time a bit. Rules were for pussies. I was not a pussy. I was fucking Satan. Wait. NO. Son of a bitch. I wasnotfucking myself. Astrid was correct. I needed a new catch phrase. Old habits were hard to break, but I was going to let that one go. It was mortifying. Whatever. I needed a daylight to put my plan into action. None of my traveling companions knew I had a plan and that was exactly the way I’dplannedit.
We’d landed between some old buildings in a deserted alley. I hadn’t been specific when I’d led the transport. Not my best move. Of course, admitting I had no fucking clue as to our whereabouts in London wasn’t happening. I was the Devil. Faking it until making it was routine. I was the supreme bastard of the Universe. Weakness wasn’t in my DNA.
“Where in tarnation are we?” Martha asked, tucking her massively offensive bosom back into the stretchy scrap of material she called a top. I glanced around and tried to appear confident. “London, of course.”
Astrid, who clearly didn’t care about being all-knowing, motioned for us to stay back. She walked to the end of the alley and checked out the surroundings. She turned and smiled. “We’re near Hyde Park.”
“I know that,” I snapped.
“Bullshit,” she said, rejoining the group. “I say we do some sightseeing.”
I rolled my eyes and took in the visual of our motley crew. “That’s a deranged idea.”
“Why?” she demanded.
“We’re rather conspicuous,” I stated. “Martha and Jane look like geriatric strippers who won their bosoms in a contest, and the implants were put in by a blind surgeon with only one hand.” The two idiots in question grunted their agreement with wide grins. I continued. “I look like a housewife with no taste and terrible aim with lipstick. Lizard looks like Lizard. Enough said on that subject. And you… you’re wearingshorts.” I crossed my arms over my chest then promptly dropped them to my sides. Touching my niece’s boobs, even if it wasn’t voluntary, was not happening. “There’s a fine chance that we’d be arrested for indecent exposure or shitty taste. Being incarcerated won’t end well… for anyone.”
“Balls,” Astrid muttered, realizing I was correct. She then perked up. “Not a problem.”
The go-get-em Vampyre was not one to give up easily. With determined focus she waved her hands in the air. Martha and Jane were suddenly wearing chic black Chanel pantsuits and sensible Prada flats. She’d even had the wherewithal to give them pearls. There was no hiding their alarming chest size, butthe outfits Astrid had chosen were slimming. She was a smart girl. My niece then clad Lizard in a casual navy suit, a crisp, sky-blue shirt and Hugo Boss slip-ons. My knees almost buckled. I’d never seen the Demon in anything but a tacky beret and a tracksuit with black socks and sandals. Unfortunately, she left the beret, the wad of gum and the baseball bat.
“Welp, slap my tush and call me Satan,” Martha squealed, turning in a circle and falling to said tush due to her monster bosom.
“Holy Hell,” Astrid said with an impressive eye roll.
She conjured up four walking canes and slapped one into each of the old biddies’ hands. Problem solved.
Mostly.
She and I still looked like shit on a sharp stick.
“Are the clothes we dressed each other in permanent for the week?” I asked with a raised brow, pointing at the hideous Hawaiian shirt.
“Only one way to find out,” she replied. Without a second thought that she might render us completely naked for the foreseeable future, she clapped her hands and went for it. Honestly, naked would have been far superior to the fucking shorts.
I saw myself and grinned. She’d chosen a custom Armani black suit. Perfect. For herself, or rather, me at the moment, she chose a simple black Prada knee length dress with fabulous pockets and stunning low-heeled sandals. While our clothes were more fitting, she still sported the large bald spot at the front of my head and from the expression on her face, I still had half a head of hair and lipstick all over my face.
“One more thing,” she said, snapping her fingers.
A baseball cap that clashed tremendously with the Armani now sat on her head. Yesss, the bald spot was covered, but abaseball cap?Fucking Hell. However, that was mild comparedto what she’d done to me. I was now wearing a side ponytail and a black cloche with lace netting in front of my face. I supposed it could be pointed out that I was the one who’d smeared the lipstick, but I never pointed anything out where I didn’t land on top.
“We’re good to go sightseeing,” Astrid announced, taking a bow. Martha and Jane banged their canes on the ground in appreciation, and Lizard gave her a thumbs up. “How about the Tower of London and then the Tower Bridge?”
“No,” I said flatly.
“Mmmkay,” She kept going. “Westminster Abbey?”
“Absolutely not,” I told her. “Demons have been known to disintegrate in churches.”
“Not true,” she snapped. “The London Eye?”
Lizard raised his hand. Astrid nodded at him.
