I winked at him. “Can’t be happy when you’re dead.”
“I like your style, Dickie,” he told me.
“Right back at you, Pussycat.”
I gently pulled Martha and Jane from his pockets and placed them on my open palm. Holding a finger to my lips, I let them know to stay quiet. “I need you two to go upstairs and find all the closed coffins. If they’re closed, that means an asshole is in it.”
They gave me a thumbs up and started to leave. I grabbed them and shook my head. “I didn’t tell you what to do yet.”
Another thumbs up followed with a middle finger salute.
I grinned. “Do you recall when you idiots glued each other’s butt cracks together? And it took months for your cheeks to separate?”
They nodded enthusiastically.
“Great, can you conjure up that glue again?”
Jane wiggled her fingers. They were both now holding tubes of magical glue that were bigger than they were.
“Excellent. Now, I want you to find the closed coffins and glue the fuckers shut. Can you do that?”
Their nods were spastic. I was thrilled they hadn’t spoken a word. Following orders wasn’t their strong suit.
Satan leaned in. “Can’t the scumbags just transport out of the coffins? Will gluing them shut make a difference?”
“Good question, and I have a great answer,” I explained. “In the Vamp world, coffins are charmed to keep the inhabitant safe. No magic from the outside can affect the occupant inside. Nothing can breach it, no matter how powerful. Hence, it’s impossible to send magic out of the coffin from the inside. It’s too reinforced. So, short answer is, no. They can’t transport out of the coffin. They have to open it from the inside to get out.”
“For the love of everything imbecilic,” he said with a scornful expression. “Are they that dim-witted?”
“They wouldn’t say so, but there’s a fine reason most Vampyres stopped sleeping in coffins centuries ago.”
Lizard chuckled and peeked his head out from the cuff of the pants. “And we’re gonna use that to our advantage, Pantaloon Platoon. You want me to go with my ladies or stay with you?”
“Stay,” I instructed. “Martha and Jane are beyond capable of gluing undead assholes into their beds of choice. They glued their own ass cheeks shut with expertise.”
“I have a question about that,” Uncle Fucker said.
I cut him off. “Don’t ask. Trust me on that.”
He nodded and scanned the foyer. “The parlors next?”
“Yep,” I replied, crawling back into his pants. “Lizard and I will drop out when the time is right.”
“Roger that,” Satan said. “I haven’t had this much fun in months.”
His idea of fun was warped, but I was so very thankful he was on my team. Together, we would get Ethan out of here and safely home. There was still the matter of the body switch, but one humongous problem at a time.
That was all we could do.
