“I’m sorry, what did you just say?”
“It’s like this, Titty Smith,” Jane said, rolling to her back so she could look over at me. Her greased-up nips pointed at the sun. It was a visual that I was going to need to go back to therapy to get rid of. “We was on one of them haunted house tours and got bored.”
“Yep. Bored AF,” Martha agreed. “So, we stole us a couple hoverboards and took our own tour.”
“They’re fuckin’ dangerous,” Jane added with a whistle. “Before we mowed Connie down, we hit five moving cars, a mailbox and ten trash cans.”
“Don’t forget the police man,” Martha reminded her.
“Oh right,” Jane said, looking sheepish. “Dang good thing we knocked him out cold. Gettin’ arrested ain’t on my bucket list.”
“It’s on mine, hooker,” Martha volunteered.
“Get back to how you thought bringing a human back here was a good idea,” I snapped.
“Roger that,” Jane continued. “When we ran Connie down, she just hopped right back the fuck up and invited us over for a palm reading and some eye of newt tea. Felt like we had to go since the hoverboard sliced her pinkie toe off.”
“Connie’s a real girls-girl and said she could just sew it back on. I really wanted to see that,” Jane added. “It was fuckin’ disgusting.”
The story was weird, but so were the old ladies.
Pressing the bridge of my nose, I reminded myself that asking for the details of watching someone named Connie Raven Enid Delacroix sew her toe back on wasn’t relevant to the matter at hand. I had a terrible habit of asking questions that I regretted terribly after the fact. I wasn’t falling into that trap today.
“Okay,” I ground out. “You mowed her down and cut her toes off.”
“Toe. We only lopped off her pinkie toe,” Martha corrected me. She’d rolled to her back and was massaging her size F’s.
I electrocuted her. It had to be done. She was making me want to puke and Vamps didn’t have that luxury. She was now busy slapping out the fire. Win-win.
“How did we get from watching her sew her toe back on to inviting her to the Cressida House?” I demanded.
“That’s the crazy part,” Jane explained. “We got to talkin’ about how sexy Simon Cowell is and then she let it slip that she’d heard our performance onAmerican Idolin Zanthia!”
“That’s impossible,” I said flatly.
“Apparently, there are underground bootleg tapes,” Jane told me. “Connie LOVED us.”
“Is Connie tone deaf?” I inquired.
“Possibly,” Martha chimed in. “But then she told us she’d met a few Fairies over the years and was tickled pink to meet two famous Vampyres who’d wonAmerican Idol. She even dated a Demon for three weeks back in the seventies.”
“Why’d they break up?” I asked, then punched myself in the head. I wasn’t here to listen to bullshit. I was trying to assess how much danger Connie Raven Enid Delacroix could be.
Martha cackled. “His name was Herm, and he was banging her entire coven while he was banging her.”
“Dude,” I muttered with a wince. “Dumbass move.”
“True that, motherfucker,” Jane said with a shake of her head. “Connie was so pissed off she did a spell that shrunk his junk and gave him big boobs.”
The story had gone sideways.
Jane kept going. “So, hearin’ that Connie could conjure up lady chest nuts, we made us a little deal.”
I rolled my eyes. Only Martha and Jane would meet a witch in Salem, cut off her toe then bargain for boobs.
“You got boobs and she got to come for a sleepover,” I supplied.
“Bingo, Cans LeHonkers,” Jane yelled. “She’s a hoot. She’s known about Vamps for decades and ain’t told nobody. She ain’t dangerous.”
“Plus, she has great taste in famous musicians,” Martha informed me, still smoldering from the electrocution. “Meanin’ us.”
I shook my head. Connie Raven Enid Delacroix didn’t seem dangerous even if she had awful taste in singers and bra cup sizes. I knew that some humans were aware of the Immortal world that lived right under their noses. It was looking like Connie the boob conjurer might be one of them.
“Fine. She can stay one night, then she has to hop on her broom and fly her ass back to Salem.”
“YES!” Martha shouted, getting to her feet and trying to do a jig. It didn’t work out for her.
She landed on top of Jane. Jane punched her. That devolved into a greased-up bitch slapping fight and more cuss words than I wanted to hear in a month. I waved my hand and removed the trance on Connie Raven Enid Delacroix. She dove right into the melee.
I walked away and didn’t think any of them noticed. Life was bizarre, but today was a kick in the pants. I truly wanted more info on them flying from Salem to Kentucky on a broom, but I’d wait until they were done beating the daylights out of each other.
