Fashionably Dead in Diapers (2 page)

"So are they're all coming?" Ethan asked warily. He ran his hands through his thick blond hair as he paced his office in agitation.

"I think so." I muttered as I paced right behind him, nervously touching each piece of furniture and priceless knickknack I passed. "Have they ever all been in a room together?"

"Yes."

"Well then, how bad can this be?" I gripped Ethan's hand in excited relief. If they'd done it before this would be a piece of cake.

"It was in 79 AD," he said as he waited for my reaction with raised eyebrows.

"Is that supposed to be significant to me?" I demanded with a pit the size of a bowling ball growing rapidly in my stomach. "I skipped ancient freakin' history in high school to window shop and I majored in art in college."

Ethan slowly sat down on the couch with an expression I couldn't decipher. This was either going to be hilarious or nauseating.

"There was a picnic in Pompeii…"

"Fuck." Not even remotely funny.

"Exactly. Of course I wasn't there, but the story is quite colorful. Your uncles, God and Satan, got in a fistfight over Eve who was still with Adam at that point. No one liked the cake Mother Nature brought. Your grandfather didn't realize Mother Nature—his
wife
—would be there and brought a few girlfriends. The Seven Deadly Sins were PMSing. The Angels of Light and Death were determined to kill each other. However, your Cousin Jesus and The Kev simply watched. So there you have the truth behind the destruction of Pompeii," Ethan explained logically as he shuddered.

"Mount Vesuvius had nothing to do with it?" I choked out. The bowling ball was now lodged in my esophagus.

"That was just a cover," he replied.

"Fuckityfuckfuckshitballsfuck. Why can't I have a normal family?" I shouted.

This was bad. We didn't even live in the vicinity of a volcano if we needed to cover up any mass destruction. We were in Kentucky. We didn't have a conveniently exploding mountain nearby. This was such a clusterfuck waiting to happen. Maybe I would talk to them individually…or have the meeting in Purgatory. No one would miss Purgatory if it blew up. It was boring and smelled funky.

"Astrid, your family is normal—considering."

"Considering what?"

"Considering they're all immortal and certifiably insane."

"Not helping," I muttered. "Wait." I jerked to a halt as my ass started buzzing. Why in the Hell was my ass buzzing? "Oh my Hades," I shrieked. "My butt is vibrating."

"Your phone is in your pocket," Ethan informed me as he did his best not to laugh.

"I knew that," I hissed as I yanked it out, practically removing the pocket of my cute Prada jeans in case he was wrong and it was a bomb. "I have a text."

I quickly scanned the message and squealed with joy.

"We're not going to be homeless and Kentucky will not be wiped off the map of the United States. God and Jesus can't make it and the Seven Deadly Sins won't be here either. They have to do community service on a chain gang in Oklahoma for something to do with streaking and money laundering—like that makes any sense."

I rolled my eyes and dropped down on the leather couch in relief.

"Nothing your cousins do make sense. However, at the moment I'm quite grateful for that," Ethan said as he stood and gently covered a sleeping Samuel who was oblivious to the impending drama. We had placed cribs in every room in the compound. It was crazy, but wildly convenient.

"It seemed like such a good idea—now I'm not so sure," I whispered as I leaned into the crib and sniffed my son's curls. He smelled like sunshine and wind—he was perfect.

"Normally I'd agree with you, but after our boy conjured up a zoo in the foyer complete with elephants, lions, and wild boar…I'm thinking we need to lay down a few laws."

That had been a fucking bloodbath.

"Not to mention the five alarm fire he set in the nursery or the puppet show of thirty stuffed animals that he brought to life," I added as I pressed my fingers to the bridge of my nose to ward off the memory of having to kill the stuffed teddy bears and blue giraffes that were trying to escape the house and terrorize the human world.

"Yes, there is that," Ethan said as he stared at the holes in the ceiling that the stuffed dragons had made before we snuffed them out. "So tomorrow is the big day?"

"Yep. Tomorrow at noon."

"We're going out," Ethan announced in his
I'm the boss of everyone
tone.

"No, we're not," I snapped. "It might not be my entire family in attendance tomorrow, but we still can't guarantee we'll have a standing house after the get together. I think we should stay in, play with the baby, and make sure he doesn't conjure up a Demon from the Basement of Hell or something worse. Besides, we don't have a babysitter."

My beautiful mate shook his head in frustration. "We have enough babysitters to make the
Guinness Book of World Records
. You just have to pick one."

"And how exactly am I supposed to do that? We could very likely come home to our child speaking in tongues or making the Sailors Hall of Fame for filthy fucking language."

Ethan's eyebrow shot up and I swear it touched his hairline.

"Fine," I huffed, knowing full well I was a large part of the potty mouth problem. "Filthy freakin' language. Better?"

"Much." He chuckled as he grabbed me and buried his face in my neck. "If I don't get you alone soon our son will get a graphic lesson in sex education. I do believe we've already done enough damage without adding that."

"This is true," I said as my body perked up…well, mostly my nipples, my lady-bits and my imagination. "Where will we go?"

"Honestly, I don't care as long as there is no one within several miles so we won't be heard or interrupted."

I laughed and let my head fall back onto his strong chest. Ethan's hands tightened around my waist and his very happy and underused manly part pressed into my back. I moved away, much to both of our disappointment, but my brain didn't work well when he was too close.

"The Baby Demons are a huge no," I said as I mulled over the babysitter choices and silently promised my inner hooker she could come out and play soon. "I'm sure they taught Sammy about boobies. Satan and Mother Nature are also a no-go for obvious reasons. What about Heathcliff and Cathy?" I asked my other half, thinking about my distantly related Vampyre cousins.

"They're in Rome with their father searching for some priceless Vampyre Scrolls that have gone missing," Ethan said tightly.

"Who stole them?" I asked, happily wanting to hear about a problem I didn't cause and had nothing to do with.

"No clue, but we will find out. What about Paris Hilton or Dixie?" he asked as he advanced on me with a smirk that made my panties wet.

"Nope. They're in New York. Dixie wanted to see more of the country. She and Hayden took Janet, Carl and Myrtle with them too. Carl wants to perform on Broadway."

Not much rendered my mate silent, but this did. Carl, Janet and Myrtle were Demons. Carl was a hairy dude who enjoyed breakdancing and killing things. He also had a whopper of a lisp. His mate Janet was a doll who also was somewhat murderous and Myrtle was nuts. Not to mention Paris Hilton, my Vampyre buddy, could hold her own in Crazy-town. My beautiful cousin Dixie and her Angel of Death mate, Hayden, were going to have their hands full.

"Pam and my father?" he asked with his eyes closed. I was sure he was trying to erase Carl's performances from his head.

"They're in Africa straightening up some kind of Vamp and Angel mess down there."

"The Kev and Gemma?" Ethan was getting desperate. He'd adjusted himself in his jeans several times and his golden eyes had turned a sparkling green. My man wanted me bad.

I grinned and nodded. "That works for me."

"Sammy want Marfa and Jane," our little one yelled from his crib followed by a giggle that made my heart melt.

"Um, no, little man. Martha and Jane are…" I struggled for a word that meant crazy mother fucking cow asswankers without any swear words in it. Nothing came to mind.

Martha and Jane were old nasty bats. They had recently been turned into Vampyres when I had a
very
shortsighted moment of weakness. Some would call it compassion. I would label it a massive FUBAR blunder. They had been the bane of my existence for years when I was a human and taught art lessons at the Senior Center. However, when I saw them laying on the floor, bleeding out and dying from an attack by Rogue Demons, I let my compassion and inner-masochist out and had them turned into Vampyres. My reward was having to live with them for the rest of my very long life.

"Martha and Jane are very…you know…ummm." How could I word ass-munching bottom feeders so it wouldn't be offensive?

"Busy." Ethan saved me from God only knew what wanted to come flying from my mouth.

"Pweese, Mommy and Daddy? Me want Marfa and Jane. They funny," Sammy begged.

Motherhumpin' cowballs. How could I make this work? Holy Hell, he said
pweese
.

"How about Martha and Jane and The Kev and Gemma?" Ethan compromised.

Hmm, that was good, but it was still only two against two. I needed to outnumber the old buttwankers to feel comfortable. "And Venus," I added quickly.

Venus could kick their asses. The Kev and Gemma could too, but Venus would thoroughly enjoy it. Old Martha and Jane had highly offended my Vampyre BFF with their repeated references to her being
Afro American
. Not only were they grossly politically incorrect, they were stupid. Their sheer delight at drawing money from their pensions was repugnant when they knew the chances of them dying were slim. I was hoping they'd end up in the pokey for a few years.

I had learned recently that Vampyres had intricate systems for handling money. Every seventy-five years or so we had to obtain new Social Security cards and basically become a relative of ourselves. Slight name changes were necessary, but Vamps rarely used the new name unless they were dealing with humans. I stumbled upon this when I realized Ethan's driver’s license belonged to a man named Edwin. I patiently explained to him that I wouldn't play hide the salami or mechanical bull hump-fest with someone named Edwin. He promptly had his legal name changed back to Ethan.

There were several immortal banks, but they were run by Demons. Even being half Demon, I wouldn't let those bastards guard my lunch money. Hence, I would have to change my identity in about fifty years and keep my savings in a mortal bank. I had half a century to come up with a name for myself that wouldn't make me laugh.

"Do you think five babysitters will be sufficient?" Ethan inquired sardonically.

"No, but I'm willing to leave the compound without panties if we can make that happen."

"I'm on it," he said as he quickly began texting our gaggle of sitters.

"Me call Jane and Marfa," Samuel said as he bounced in his crib.

"Okay, little man, you do that. That will save Daddy some time and an eardrum." I giggled at my son's imagination until the old abominations appeared in a tangled heap on the floor at my feet. "What the fu…?" I screeched as I jumped back.

If I wasn't dead already, the sight of Martha and Jane in purple yoga pants with matching sequined boob tubes and brown orthopedics would have killed me violently. Not to mention the elastic wasn't working well and two of their torpedo tits were staring up at me. Glancing over at Ethan, I noticed he was staring at the ceiling and wincing in pain.

"Well, if it's not Boobs McGee," Martha grunted as she dragged herself and Jane to a standing position. They only stood about four foot eleven, but they were scary.

"My name is Astrid," I snapped. "Tuck those hanging sacks of wrinkly flesh back into your unfortunate fashion disasters. Immediately. How did you get here?" I demanded.

"Not a clue, Knockers McHooterland," Jane grumbled as she shoved her boob back into her tube. "I heard little Sammy's voice in my head and next thing I knew I was staring at your inflated melons."

"Her funbags do look larger," Martha said to Jane as they stared at my chest.

"I'm nursing, Shit for Brains," I hissed at them.

"Shit for Brains," Sammy shouted gleefully.

"Oh my hell," I moaned as the old geezers whipped their heads to Sammy in shock.

"He talks?" Jane asked.

"Yes, he talks. Hallway. Now." I pointed at the door and then followed the nasty ancient bags as they shuffled out of the room.

"So I see your Gerber Servers grew," Martha said as she hiked up her boob tube somewhere in the vicinity of her neck.

"What did you just call my girls?" My eyes narrowed and I bit down on my cheek to hold back my laugh. I refused to let on that they had made a good one.

She chuckled and pointed a bony finger at my chest. "Well, I could have said Super Big Gulps or Milk Jugs, but I went with…"