I could feel it in my evil bones. April 1st would be a day no one would ever forget. I would make sure of it.
Chapter Ten
“Why does your office smell like ass?” Astrid inquired, sniffing the air with a sour expression on her lovely face.
Dino, Darby and Dagwood sucked at cleaning. If they were standing in front of me, I’d electrocute them and send them to Mammy for a trim. My quarters still reeked of beans-n-franks. “Elle’s breakfast,” I told her.
“For real?” she asked with a wince.
“For real,” I replied, wincing with her.
“Sorry about that,” Astrid said with a lopsided grin.
“Condolences accepted,” I replied, snapping my fingers and lighting every scented candle in the large room. “Let’s get to it.”
“Alrighty then, planning this party has been a massive pain in my ass,” Astrid griped as she flopped down on the black leather couch and eyed me with admirable rudeness.
Most would be punished for such behavior. From Astrid, it simply warmed my black heart. Her bad attitude was delightful.
“Lovely to see you too,” I said with a chuckle. “Have you procured my gift yet?”
Her smile grew wide and made me alarmingly uncomfortable. “Yes. I’m giving you my love, Uncle Fucker,” she informed me with an evil giggle. “You’ve already stolen it and definitely don’t deserve it.”
“You want me to have hives for my soiree?” I asked with a raised brow that didn’t alarm her at all. The Vampyre was excellent at annoying me. Although, I secretly enjoyed her ridiculous and misplaced shows of affection.
“Yep,” she said.
“You win.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” Astrid muttered with a laugh, paging through her black leather-bound notebook and getting down to business. “Everyone has sent back the RSVP and all five hundred are coming. You’ll need to cast a spell so the Vampyres in attendance will be safe in Hell.”
“You invited Vampyres?” I asked with a groan as I eyed the notebook with envy. I hoped she left it. If not, I’d simply steal it. It would look lovely on my desk.
“I’m a Vampyre, dickwad,” she snapped. “Ethan is coming and a bunch of other high falootin’ Vamps. So cast the spell or I won’t show up and you’ll be screwed.”
“Done,” I said, enjoying her ire. I was certain she wasn’t going to try to decapitate me, so it made the ribbing fun. “And I think it’s outstanding you convinced Steve Perry to attend.”
“What the ever-lovin’ Hell?” she shouted. “That was supposed to be a surprise. How did you know? Did Mother Nature let the cat out of the bag? Did one of the idiot Seven Sins tell you?”
“No,” I said, grinning at her anger. “My mother is too concerned about splitting the crotch of her pants. And from what I understand, the Sins have been jailed in Paris for robbing the city blind. It’s been blissfully serene around here without them—other than Elle still wanting to behead me.”
“I’m tempted to ask for more of the Mother Nature story,” Astrid said.
“Don’t.”
“Roger that,” she replied with an amused shake of her head. She handed me the RSVP list and the menu. “So, Elle’s still on the rag?”
“Yes, but according to her mother, it only lasts a week and shall come to an end on the morning of April 1st. She’ll be saying goodbye to Aunt Flow on my womb eviction day. The timing could not be better.”
“Cool,” she said. “Can your chefs be on call for the party?”
Shit. “Umm… no. Can you bring yours?”
“Are you trying to be a jackass, or does it simply come naturally?” she snapped and lifted her middle finger. “Vampyre here. I don’t fucking eat. I drink blood. We have no mother humpin’ chefs.”
“Right,” I muttered. “My bad. We have a little situation in Hell at the moment. I’ve hired a Dragon for her prowess with beans-n-franks because Elle loves them. The Dragon has a fetish that made the entire cooking staff of the Dark Palace resign.”
“Wanna be more specific?” Astrid asked, squinting at me.
“She likes to trim people.”
Astrid rolled her eyes again and checked her watch. “Dude, what is trim code for? I don’t have all day, and if I’m going to have to have this party catered from Earth, I need to know now. Define trim.”
“Mammy has a hair obsession,” I said with a slight gag. “She’s hellbent on de-hairing the Universe.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“I shit you not,” I assured her. “She blew the arms right off my assistant trying to trim his pit hair.”