Home > Fashionably Dead and Wed (Hot Damned #7)(16)

Fashionably Dead and Wed (Hot Damned #7)(16)
Author: Robyn Peterman

“To pray,” I added quickly.

“Um… okay,” Martha said as she made a clumsy sign of the cross that resembled a performance of Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes.

“I’d like to suggest that you all pray with your rosemary and ask Astrid’s Uncle God and Cousin Asian Female Jesus for forgiveness for doubting the existence of the Second Coming of Buddha Jones,” Jane added primly, not to be outdone by Martha’s butchered genuflecting.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Spike asked, genuinely perplexed.

“She’s drunk,” I told Spike. I covertly flicked my fingers and sealed Martha and Jane’s mouths shut before they could say something even stupider. I wasn’t sure what could be more idiotic than what they had already said, but I was taking no chances.

Their religious upbringing was as fucked up as they were and since it was tremendously difficult for Vampyres to tie one on, my excuse was a little fucked up as well.

I handed off Samuel to Raquel, hustled Martha and Jane from the room and shoved them into the hallway shutting the door behind me.

“What in tarnation was that?” Martha whispered, wide eyed as I waved my hand and unsealed their lips.

“It was a clusterfuck,” I whispered back. “Just go with it.”

“Will do, but I think after that we should be able to wear booty shorts, Knockers McChesticle,” Jane bargained with a smirk.

“Fine,” I hissed as quietly as I could. “You can wear them under your habits.”

“Boob tubes?”

“Under the habits,” I said, caving. “However, from now on when strange Vampyres are around you have to be from an order that has taken a vow of silence.”

“Define strange,” Jane said, squinting her eyes at me in confusion.

“Just don’t speak. Ever.”

“But the Bushjebs are talkers,” Martha said.

“The Bushjebs don’t exist,” I shot back.

“Pam said they did,” Jane reasoned. “She’s an Angel. She would know these things.”

“Oh my God,” I muttered. “Go to your rooms and don’t come out until I get you.”

“We’re grounded?” Jane whined.

“Just go,” I snapped as I attempted to pull myself back together.

They waddled down the hall looking like deranged penguins. Deciding a prayer might be a good idea, I mouthed a quick apology to my Uncle God for letting Martha and Jane impersonate nuns, and then reentered the party.

“Sorry about that,” I mumbled. I quickly retrieved my son and took my place beside Ethan—much to Mary’s displeasure. “Sister Martha and Sister Jane are um…”

“Not really nuns?” Spike suggested helpfully with a grin pulling at his lips.

“Why would you say that?” I asked, avoiding eye contact as I unnecessarily straightened Samuel’s Scooby Doo t-shirt.

“Well, praying with a rosemary and Buddha Jones for a start,” he replied.

“Cousin Asian Female Jesus?” Trista added with a twinkle in her eye.

“That part is actually true,” I admitted thinking maybe Trista might be okay. “And no, they’re not nuns. It’s a punishment.”

“I’m not following,” Trista said, staring at Samuel with longing.

I pulled my baby tighter to me, but I understood her envy. Vampyres could not have children. We live forever and ever, but are incapable of reproduction. The simple fact Ethan and I had been blessed with Samuel was unexplainable other than it was fulfillment of the prophecy and I was a freak of nature.

“They normally dress inappropriately,” Ethan said mildly as he sat back down to bring the meeting back to order.

“Habits aren’t inappropriate?” Francisco asked as he too stared at Samuel with fascination.

“Nope. They normally wear assless chaps, booty shorts or boob tubes,” I replied, walking toward the curious Vampyres with my child in my arms. “You can touch him.”

“Really?” Trista whispered reverently.

Spike and Francisco stepped up to get in line, but Mary stayed back. She was clearly unhappy that Ethan wasn’t her darling anymore.

Tough shit.

“Yep, but Samuel bites and if he senses you’re evil or mean me harm he’ll turn you into a small green gob of stinky goo,” I warned.

“Silly Mommy!” Samuel yelled gleefully as he took in the occupants of the room. “Me do no such thing.”

The Vampyres backed away as a precaution, but my baby’s reply calmed them.

“How old is he?” Spike asked as he approached and held out his hand to Samuel.

“Nine months,” I replied. “His intellect is that of an adult and he grows so rapidly we can’t keep up, but he’s still just a child.”

Samuel took Spike’s hand into his chubby one and searched the Vampyre’s face intently. Spike cocked his head to the side and smiled at the scrutiny.

“Do I pass?” he asked, speaking directly to Samuel.

“Yes,” Samuel said grinning. “You will play soccer wif me.”

Spike was stunned for a brief moment and then barked out a laugh. “What else can you see, little man?”

“Enough,” Ethan said tersely. “You’ve seen my child. He is the natural child of Astrid and me. You are free to tell our people he exists and nothing more. Am I clear?”

“You are,” Spike said with a respectful nod and the others followed suit.

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