the room with Wilhem and his spoilsport date on his heels. “Dawn is about to break. We should retire, but I thought a few minutes of privacy might be welcome.”
“Agreed,” Wilhem said, pulling Anastasia to her feet as Ethan pulled me to mine. “What did I overhear about issues on the West Coast of the United States?”
“Nothing for you to concern yourself with,” Ethan said coolly, brooking no further discussion on the matter from his brother.
Catriona looked disappointed to not be in on the gossip, but that was not going to happen. I was unsure how much Ethan trusted his brother and sister. So far, I’d say Wilhem was not in his inner circle of confidence. Following my mate’s lead was my plan. He knew them far better than I did. However, an outsider who had ulterior motives of bagging a Prince wasn’t going to be taken into anyone’s confidence.
“Excuse me,” the pissy Vampyre announcer from earlier said, poking his head into the room. He was shaking and appeared terrified. “There are two umm… women who insist on an audience with someone called Knockers LaBoobies. I made it very clear that no one by that moniker was present, but they insisted rather forcefully with language I will not repeat. Shall I grant them entrance?”
“Shit,” I muttered with a groan. “What is your name?”
“Walter, my Princess,” he replied with a bow.
“Walter, you may grant the women an audience,” I said, understanding why the man looked scared. Martha and Jane were frightening.
“Very well,” he replied with fear and doubt written all over his pinched face.
“Looks like someone had a mother humpin’ party and forgot to send us an invite,” Martha griped, marching into the room with Jane right behind her. “Dang rude, Ginormous Nubbies.”
They were scratched up and covered in blood. They also had less hair on their heads than they did this morning.
“What the hell?” Anastasia asked under her breath. “What are they?”
“They’re undead nightmares,” I replied. “My undead nightmares.”
“Amazing. I want nightmares like that,” Anastasia said with a laugh.
“You can have them. For free,” I promised, then turned my attention to the old biddies. “Martha and Jane, I didn’t think you’d want to come to a gathering that forbids assless chaps, seeing as how you enjoy exposing your privates.”
The two dummies took in what I said and mulled it over.
“Melon Hooters makes a fine fucking point,” Martha said to Jane, who nodded her agreement.
“Yep, if my bare ass ain’t appreciated, then it would be a shitty party,” Jane announced. “Anyhoo, we brought you a present. It’s up in your room.”
I paled at the thought and Ethan glanced over in concern. “Please tell me it’s not what I think it is.”
“Well,” Martha said, grabbing a chair from a nearby table and straddling it. “Don’t know what ya think it is, Bulbous McBosom. But I know you’re gonna love it.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” I said, picturing a pile of sphincters. “Dumbasses, meet Princess Anastasia, Prince Wilhem and his consort, Carolinainnia—our guests.”
“Catriona,” the woman corrected me tightly.
“Sorry, my bad,” I told her.
Martha hopped off the chair, knocking it to the ground, and Jane waddled up beside her. Both of the dead idiots bowed low. It looked suspiciously like they were taking a dump, but it was the thought that counted. However, when they stood back up, their boob tubes didn’t make the trip. Our guests were treated to fully exposed, saggy old lady torpedoes.
“We are fucking honored to make your acquaintances,” Martha said, saluting everyone.
“Damn straight,” Jane added. “If you need assistance during your stay, we’re here to help. We have a few weeks on our hands before we have to go back to Hell and change diapers. We also sing.”
“No, you don’t,” I said quickly, wiggling my fingers and dressing the imbeciles in parkas that covered every inch of wrinkly skin except their hands and faces.
“We won American Idol,” Martha reminded me, glancing down at her new coat in surprise.
I groaned. “In Zanthia, where everyone is tone-deaf.”
“Don’t see how that matters,” Jane huffed. “I have Simon Cowell on speed dial. I call him every day.”
“Oh my Hell,” I said with an even louder groan. “How has that gone?”
Jane shrugged. “Something is wrong with his phone,” she explained. “Says it’s disconnected.”
“Mmmkay, I will happily supply eye bleach to those who need it,” I told my guests. “And I’d like to suggest we call it a night.”
“I should say so,” Catriona said in a mortally wounded tone. “This is simply appalling.”
Carolinainnia was riding my