“Hang on a sec, Tatas McMellonCans,” Jane said, struggling to her feet. “It’s okay. Connie ain’t no problem.”
I raised a brow and gave her a look that made her tumble off her unsteady feet and back to the ground. It was Martha’s turn…
“Listen to me, Hoobs LaSweaterMeat,” Martha insisted, standing upright…barely. “We picked up Connie in Salem when we went on vacation.”
“And that helps how?” I demanded as Connie seemed to watch the exchange with interest.
I didn’t like that.
“She ain’t exactly human,” Martha assured me.
I liked that even less. Connie was one hundred percent human. I could hear her heartbeat and smell her blood. She wasn’t Immortal. Of that, I was sure. Every single Vampyre on the premises lived by the Immortal Law and would not think to drain a human and end their life. However, that didn’t mean they wouldn’t want to take a few sips. Passing Connie Raven Enid Delacroix for a light snack wasn’t in my playbook today.
Closing my eyes for a brief moment, I waved my hand and put Connie into a trance. It wouldn’t harm her. It just made it safe to speak freely.
And freely speak I did right after I zapped the two jackasses bald. Neither one of them had much hair to begin with so it wasn’t the biggest change I could have made. I was nice like that. My eyes narrowed to slits. Before I magically shocked the shit out of them, I needed the particulars of how we were where we were at the moment. “Why were you in Salem? You have a job in Hell nannying Satan’s son.”
Martha tried and failed to get back up. Didn’t matter. Her mouth still worked. “Time off. A whole motherfuckin’ month! Elle took baby Luke on a vacation to see her people. Satan wasn’t invited.”
That wasn’t a surprise. Elle, Satan’s mate, was a Siren. She was a dangerous and unpredictable badass, but I really liked her. Satan, as per the norm, had been such a jackhole the last time he’d gone to the Siren’s island, he’d been banned for eternity. I called him Uncle Fucker with affection. The Sirens called him Shitstain Douchebag and not an ounce of affection was included.
“That’s right,” Jane added. “Old McBitable Buns is sulkin’ in Hell and being a general pain in the bunghole.”
Again, not a surprise. The man, good down deep, was still a dick. The Sirens had called him out on it. He didn’t like that one bit. As intimidating and powerful as the Devil was, the man was besotted with Elle and ever so slightly terrified of her. It made for a good balance between the two crazy individuals.
“Got it,” I said. “Moving on. Why…”
“Oh yeah,” Martha interrupted. “Thought you might wanna know that Satan is sayin’ that Vamps have it easier than Demons. He said that bloodsuckers are pussies.”
“Wait. What?” I spat. My fingers beginning to spark. That was insane and I had the battle wounds and therapy bills to prove it. I’d fought Trolls, Wraiths, Energy Vamps, evil Fairies… the list went on and on. You name it, I’d fought it. It wasn’t easybreezy to be undead. Plus, Demons could eat. Uncle Fucker was treading on some thin ice. Calming myself and remembering that listening to stories about my uncle’s delusions wasn’t the business that needed attending to, I closed my eyes and centered myself. Of course, that didn’t mean I could stop myself from saying something snarky back.
And I did. The best part was that I wasn’t pulling it out of my ass. When Ethan and I had visited London last month, I’d come across a duo of disgruntled Demons who weren’t too fond of their leader. The gossip they dished would have made the Devil split in two like Rumpelstiltskin.
“Well, from what I heard, Uncle Fucker has a Napoleon complex, and not about his height,” I said with a wicked grin. “It’s more about the size of his junk… or lack thereof. Not that I’ve seen his junk or ever want to. I’d have to gouge my eyes out, but I’m going off the word on Oxford Street. Apparently, his pecker is petite. And those with pocket sized pee-pees tend to lash out at those who have much larger equipment, literal and metaphorical. You feel me?”
Martha screamed with laughter. Jane joined her. I actually smiled for a hot sec then remembered that a tranced human was sitting a few feet away.
Back to business. Satan may have talked crap about me and my people, but two of mypeoplehad just brought a human home like a stray cat. Stupid didn’t begin to cover what they’d done.
“What in the ever-lovin’ Hell were you two thinking bringing a human to the Cressida house?” I hissed.
“She’s a witch,” Martha said, rubbing the top of her hairless head. “Wow! My fuckin’ head feels as smooth as my jigglejoggers now! ‘Cept the jugs might be bigger than my noggin.”
It was all I could do not to scream. “Why are your boobs enormous? Surgery doesn’t work on the dead.”
“Jealous?” Jane asked, waggling her brows and grinning as she puffed out her chest then instantly fell back over.
“Hardly,” I snapped. “Your buddy Connie might practice witchcraft, but she’s human. And you two are in a shitload of trouble. Did you transport her here?”
Jane, still boobs and face down, pointed behind her. There was a broom leaning against the tree. It looked like something that belonged in a pioneer days period movie. I laughed. I couldn’t help it.
“You’re telling me that you flew here from Salem with Connie Raven Enid Delacroix on a broom?” I asked, unable to believe that my mouth had even formed the sentence.
“Correct, douchebag,” Jane supplied.
My life was unbelievable. It had taken a lot for me to come to terms that Vampyres, Fairies, Demons, Angels and even Trolls existed. But flying human witches? Nope. Not buying what they were selling.
“Yeppers!” Martha added. “She knows all about Vamps, Demons and other Immortals. That crazy gal knew what we were the moment we accidently ran over her on our pilfered hoverboards.”
