Fashionably Fooled (Hot Damned #13) - Robyn Peterman Page 0,21

Murry announced, coming in for a show of affection.

It took herculean effort not to fry him where he stood.

The hugging was bad. The sniffing was appalling. The small man sniffed my neck for at least ten minutes while Lizard tried not to laugh. It felt like an assault by someone with a smelling fetish. Murry the badass was a whack job, and Lizard was going to pay.

“Holy shee-ott,” Murry said as he finished inhaling and looked startled. “Reptile, ya didn’t tell me you was bringin’ the Devil to my lair.”

“It’s Lizard, not Reptile,” Lizard corrected the freak. “And you didn’t ask.”

“Ya got me there!” Murry the badass shouted and laughed so hard he fell over and couldn’t get up.

“Sweet Hell on fire,” I muttered as I waved my hand and set Murry the dumbass back on his feet. “You’re a Dragon?”

“Yep,” Murry answered, looking at me with so much awe that I decided he could live. “And yer the Devil?”

“I am,” I replied. “Your mother is a Dragon as well?”

Murry nodded his head and grunted out a chuckle or a burp. I wasn’t sure. “Yes siree, she’s as mean as a snake, but I love her somethin’ fierce. Told me last week she was gonna have my birth certificate canceled if I didn’t take out the trash. Can you believe that shee-ot?”

Having no clue if that was an actual question, I declined to answer. It didn’t matter, Murry kept yapping.

“Mammy can fry the hair off yer nuts from a thousand yards away. Yer testies will look like the day you were born.”

“Impressive,” I said, holding back a gag.

“Yep, Mammy’s legally blind and not quite right in the head. But just in case ya need a trim, I’m gonna recommend that ya don’t ask her to fry yer pubes. Her aim sucks ass on account her peepers don’t work and you could lose yer pecker. Mammy sizzled the hair right off my head last month when I asked her to trim my nose locks. Underneath my fabulous wig, I’m as bald as a freakin’ cue ball. But Mammy makes the best beans-n-franks ya ever tasted.”

“Okay,” I said, pressing the bridge of my nose and trying to have a semi-decent attitude. “That was entirely too much information. You let a blind woman drive a car?”

“Awww, it’s fine,” Murry said with a wave of his hand. “She enjoys it. Normally Mammy just takes out a few mailboxes. No biggie.”

“So why is it that we can’t be here when your mother is present?” I asked, immediately regretting it. Curiosity was an admirable quality when you were speaking with a sane person who wasn’t sporting a mullet wig.

“Well, Lord of the Dark Shit, it’s a little embarrassin’ to have people know I live in my Mammy’s basement bein’ that I’m three thousand years old and all. So, if I only let people in when she’s not home, no motherhumper’s the wiser. I’m the king of my lair.”

“But we know you live in your Mammy’s basement,” I pointed out, only to watch the dolt become seriously confused.

“So yer sayin’ I didn’t have to send Mammy to the Piggly Wiggly and endanger all the mailboxes in town cuz you already know I live in the basement?” Murry questioned.

I was ready to incinerate Murry the badass. The Dragon was clearly missing brain cells. This was absurd. Thankfully, Lizard could sense my ire. Or possibly the fact that I was glowing and sparking might have clued my Demon in.

“Murry, we need information,” Lizard said. “If you can supply us with what we need there will be payment.”

“Now Alligator, that sounds right fine,” Murry said, rubbing his tiny hands together with glee.

“It’s Lizard, not Alligator,” Lizard corrected the idiot for the second time.

“Whoops, my bad. Lizard, I’d like a two-hundred-dollar gift card to the Red Lobster, a few extra wigs since there’s a fine chance I’ll be bald fer a while, and a lifelong season pass to the Monster Truck Rally.”

“Is he serious?” I asked. I was the fucking Devil and he asked for a gift card to the Red Lobster?

Lizard nodded and grinned. I just hoped this wasn’t a case of you get what you pay for…

“Are you able to ascertain where a letter came from? And who it came from?” I asked.

“Did ya bring it?” Murry inquired, moving in dangerously close.

If he hugged me again it would be the last thing he ever did.

“I did,” I said, easing away so I didn’t have to electrocute him.

“Lemme smell it.”

Glancing

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