Chapter 13 Satan
SATAN
We’d arrived in Oklahoma just after midnight.
Luckily, the transport there had been far less violent than the trip to London.
Thanks to Martha and Jane’s smaller sizes, I hadn’t been slapped in the face by a single bosom.
I’d delivered us to the town just outside the Vamps compound to avoid heralding our arrival, and I’d played with time again to get us there fast. Manipulating time was always an iffy proposition.
Living on the edge was the spice of life.
The spicier the better as far as I was concerned.
Plus, Astrid’s mate was in peril, and his life was worth a few risks.
For the most part, I enjoyed Ethan. He was a vicious warrior with outstanding taste in office supplies.
His demise wasn’t on the table. Losing him would end my favorite hobby of pilfering from him.
No can do. Also, Astrid would be devastated, and I didn’t want that for her.
I would never admit that, but it was the truth…
as overrated as it might be. However, I was wildly put out that I wasn’t wearing a spiffy black combat outfit like everyone else.
I was cursed with fucking ass-magnifying purple pantaloons.
The fitted white top and the Prada flats were acceptable, but the baggy pantaloons made it look like I’d taken a gargantuan shit in the hideous trousers.
What in the fuck had I’d been thinking when I’d stolen them? Not even Astrid’s slender body could make the tragic pants look flattering. I would be incinerating the pantaloons in the very near future.
“There it is,” Astrid hissed with venom in her tone.
We took a black Mercedes sedan that I’d expertly procured off the streets of the human town. Some dummy had left the keys in it. Like the pompous jackass in London with his wallet in his briefcase, this again, was tantamount to stealing from a baby. Too easy. Very boring.
I drove, giving me too much time to think about Lizard’s terrible plan. Didn’t matter. I was committed. Astrid was in the front with me, and Lizard and his tiny hookers were in the back.
I’d parked the stolen car under the darkness of night behind a clump of trees near the Oklahoma Vampyre compound.
The sight of the D-horror stronghold filled me with disdain.
It was nothing like Ethan and Astrid’s lovely home.
This place, lit up with insidious red light, making it look like a bloody mirage, had seen far better days.
The thick ivy covering the stone walls seemed to be choking the life out of the dreary abode.
The lawn wasn’t manicured—no flowers, no bushes, no charm.
The architecture was gothic and typically Vamp—a total cliché.
It was, of course, in the middle of nowhere.
“Does anyone know the layout of this shithole?” Lizard asked, methodically rolling his bat in his hands.
“I do,” Astrid answered tightly. “Ten bedrooms on the second floor and ten on the third. First floor consists of a ballroom off the foyer to the right and six formal parlors down the only hallway on the left. It’s butt-ass ugly and all done in blacks and reds.”
“Electricity?” Lizard asked.
Astrid nodded. “Yep, but they’re partial to torches too. It’s a total throwback in time, just like they are.”
“Do they happen to sleep in coffins?” I asked with a chuckle, remembering Lizard’s point about mixing the dramatic up with some funny. There was no room to tap dance in the sedan so I used my wit with words instead.
“Yes,” Astrid replied.
“I was joking,” I told her with a laugh of disbelief.
“I know,” she said flatly. “I’m not.”
“How many undead jackholes live there?” Lizard questioned, wanting as many particulars as Astrid knew.
“Twenty. All old. Ancient. The Oklahoma clan is the oldest, most hardcore and stupidest in our dominion. They rarely travel so I expect most of them to be on the premises.” Her eyes narrowed to slits.
“Not to mention, the imbeciles have taken the prince of the North American Dominion as their prisoner…”
“How old are they?” I asked. The older the Vamp, the stronger the Vamp.
She shrugged and shook her head. “Not exactly sure, but easily eight hundred to a thousand.”
“That could present a few problems,” I muttered.
Her lip curled. It was maniacal and delightful. “The older they are, the more satisfaction when they fall.”
“You go, guuuurrrrrl,” Martha squealed from behind us.
“That’s right!” Jane squeaked. “Them jackasses fucked around and they’re about to find out!”
Both Martha and Jane sounded as if they’d swallowed helium due to the shrinking spell. It was horrifying. Even tiny, they were still as annoying as Hell. Astrid was not annoying. However, she was wound up tight. That wouldn’t do.
Snapping my fingers, I conjured up a pint of black raspberry chip ice cream—her Kryptonite. A snack and a sugar rush would do my niece good, or at least relive her stress momentarily.
“Eat this,” I insisted, pushing ice cream into her hands along with a spoon. “No use going in on an empty stomach.”
Her smile was genuine and some of the tension left her eyes. “Thank you, Pussycat.”
“My pleasure, Dickie,” I replied.
She downed the sweet treat so quickly I was surprised Lizard didn’t have to Heimlich her again.
Her manners left a lot to be desired, but I didn’t comment.
I was secretly delighted that I’d made her happy.
It was a strange sensation, but I quite enjoyed it.
Sogdroth would be positively smug with the admission.
I decided the fucker never needed to know.
“I was thinkin’,” Lizard began.
“Oh shit,” Astrid muttered under her breath.
I agreed. Astrid and I exchanged a sharp and worried glance.
“Go on,” I told him hesitantly.
“As I see it, Astrid made a dang good point about the pantaloons being bulky if we’re wrapped around your legs.”
“The solution?” I inquired, dreading the answer.
Lizard put his gum on the headrest of my seat and continued. I wanted to punch him, but thought it might be counterproductive.
“Yep, well, I was thinkin’ it might be prudent to do a half shrink on me and Astrid. Might not be the best plan to have you going in lookin’ all deformed and shit. The pantaloons are bad enough. You feel me?”
“I have no plans to feel you,” I snapped, pissed off that he’d insulted my attire no matter how much the purple pants might deserve it. “However, I do have a question.”
“Shoot, boss man,” he said, peeling the gum off of the headrest and popping it back into his mouth.
For a full minute, I completely lost my train of thought.
My BFF was fucking disgusting. “Jesus,” I muttered before I could remember what the Hell I was asking.
“Oh, right. What’s the antidote to the shrinking?
I’m not sure a pint-sized Martha and Jane and half-sized Astrid and Lizard will be of much use in a battle. ”
“Excellent observation, my liege,” Lizard said, patting me on the shoulder with the same hand that had just peeled the gum off of the seat.
The fitted white top was definitely going into the burn pile along with the pantaloons when we were done.
“When you wanna go back to full size, you just yell, Big Boy Pants, Motherfucker!”
“Seriously?” Astrid asked, taking the words out of my mouth. “Big Boy Pants, Motherfucker?”
“You got it,” he said with a grin. “You know, it’s like when you were a youngin’ and you wanted cool pants like your older brother, but he wouldn’t let you wear them so you dismembered him in his sleep because he’s a motherfucker. It’s dang hard to wear pants with no legs.”
“Umm… not really relatable,” Astrid told him, wincing. “And kind of mean.”
“Nah,” Lizard said with a chuckle. “Iguana deserved it. Trust me, he’s a prick.”
“You have a brother named Iguana?” I was surprised. I didn’t even know Lizard had a family aside from Martha and Jane. I’d never asked. Sogdroth would chastise me for the omission. Whatever. The nosey shite never had to know.
“Sure do,” he confirmed. “Got another brother named Komodo, one called, Gecco, another goes by Skink, and I got me a sister named Monitor.”
“Wow,” Astrid choked out, doing her best not to laugh.
She succeeded. I did not.
“I know,” Lizard said, grinning. “My mammy liked reptiles. Named all of us for ‘em.”
“That’s…” I bit back the insult that was on the tip of my tongue and took a U-turn. “Your mammy sounds like a real comedian.”
“She was. Literally,” he explained with pride. “Did standup in the Catskills for decades. Specialized in reptile jokes. She was a fuckin’ hoot!”
“Was?” I asked, noting how he’d talked about her in past tense.
He nodded solemnly. “Yep, she got eaten by a gator ten years back. She thought it would be a good gimmick in her act. Mammy stole a twenty-foot, mean ass gator from the Poconos’ zoo, tossed him in the trunk of her doodlebug and showed up with him for her next gig.
When that gator ate her head, the audience thought it was part of the act until the blood started spurtin’ like a fuckin’ geyser. Dang mess, that was.”
No one said a word. There wasn’t much to say.
“Wanna hear some of her jokes?” he asked.
“Umm… sure. If you can make it quick,” Astrid said, ever polite. “We kind of have some Vamps to decapitate.”
“True that,” Lizard agreed. “I’ll just leave you with a couple of the best. It’ll be like my mammy is watchin’ over us. Kinda like a demonic Angel!”
I wasn’t sure that having a dead Demon who’d gotten ingested by a gator in front of an audience watch over us was going to be a benefit, but kept that opinion to myself.
Everyone had an episode of Jerry Springer in their lives.
If they denied it, they lied. Lizard owned a whole season.
It was both impressive and appalling, just like the man himself.
“What do reptiles like to eat with their hamburgers?” he asked.
I almost said, Mammy’s head, but tamped that shit back fast. “I don’t know. What do reptiles like to eat with their hamburgers?”
“French flies!” he said, slapping the back of my seat and laughing.
Martha and Jane cackled. Due to the fact that they were laughing several octaves higher than normal, I almost lost an ear drum.
Lizard wasn’t done. “What’s a reptile’s favorite movie?”
“Don’t know,” Astrid replied with her hands over her ears in preparation for Martha and Jane to laugh again.
“The Lizard of Oz!”
This time when the miniature old freaks laughed, the windshield shattered. That made them laugh harder. I debated with myself if we really needed them in battle. Stepping on them and squishing them was so tempting.
“One more,” Lizard said, grinning like a fool. “What did the mommy chameleon say to her nervous kid on the very first day of school?”
“Tell us!” Jane screeched in the key of Z.
“Don’t worry, sonny boy! You’ll blend right in!”
Again, with the shrill cackling. Again, with more hearing loss.
While I understood that balance was advantageous—humor mixed in with the tension of going into battle with asses who slept in coffins, I didn’t think destroying our aural abilities was a great plan.
“Well, that was educational,” I announced, getting out of the sedan before Lizard performed an encore that would leave all of us permanently deaf. “I don’t want to be late for our appointment.”
“I second that,” Astrid said, practically diving out of the passenger window. “Lizard, do the half shrink spell so we can get in Satan’s pants.”
“I beg your pardon,” I said with mock outrage.
She giggled. “You’re an idiot.”
“Yes, but at the moment, I’m your idiot and at your service,” I replied.
She took my hand in hers, turned it over and kissed the palm. “I love you, Uncle Fucker.”
I was moved. That was weird. I wasn’t sure if I liked it or hated it. “Enough of the sappy stuff,” I said, taking my hand back. But if she loved me… “Does that include respect?”
“Getting there,” she said with a lopsided smile. “Getting there.”
Good enough for now. We had more pressing business to attend to, like Vampyres that were begging for decapitation. And while I didn’t usually mix business and pleasure, I planned to enjoy the Hell out of this particular venture.