As our Jimmy Choos and Lanvins clicked on the fieldstone tiles that led to the huge carved teak door, I jerked to an abrupt halt.
“What the fuck?” I gasped. Two of the most vicious looking animals flanked the door and watched us with beady little yellow eyes. I was so not walking past that.
“What?” Dixie asked with alarm.
“Those things,” I said under my breath, just in case they understood English. “Those things look hungry . . . and pissed off.”
“Oh, the Hell Hounds?” Dixie laughed and leaned in close. “You can’t tell a soul, but the
Hell Hounds are just big ugly puppies with razor sharp fangs and claws. I love them and they love me. Those two are my favorites, General George Patton and Bambi. They slept in my room until I moved out of the Palace a couple of years ago.”
“For real?” I asked doubtfully. They did not look anything like puppies to me. “What in the
hell do they eat?”
“Cheese pizza.” She giggled. “I want to go love on them, but Daddy would be furious if word got out that the Hell Hounds were big cuddly, slobbery babies. I don’t mean to imply they’re wimps—if anyone even looked at me, my sisters or Hell forbid, my dad sideways, the Hell
Hounds would kill them in two seconds flat. Other than that, they’re sweet.”
“Awesome,” I said, still not moving.
“Come to think of it, they’ll automatically protect you too.”
“Right.”
“No, they will. You and I have the same blood. We’re related. They can tell.”
General George and Bambi purred as we passed. I instantly relaxed. Dixie giggled and blew them covert kisses, bumping into Bambi on purpose. I gently ran my hand over General George’s head. His fur was soft and silky and he smelled like brownies. Who was I to judge things by the way they looked? I was in love with my Baby Demons and they were definitely not winning any prizes in the looks department, but they were beautiful to me. I glanced back at the Hell Hounds and they both gave me a slobbery smile and a quick wink. Of course I made friends with the weirdos . . .
I took a deep breath and followed Dixie inside. My pace was slow, but I felt like I was walking to the guillotine.
A very well put together woman clad head to toe in designer Chanel made a beeline for us.
“Dang it,” Dixie moaned. “That’s Daddy’s new consort. What is her name?” Dixie’s fingers flew back into her mouth. “It’s something like Sandra or Miranda or . . . crap, I’m sure it ends in an A.”
“Hello Dixie,” the consort ending in A said while ignoring me completely. She was dressed to the nines and she was short. Even with her four inches heels, she was still a good deal shorter than both me and my cousin, but then again, we were on the tall side. I had a tough time seeing what Lucifer saw in this gal. I would assume he could have his pick of anyone. She was definitely pretty in a blonde Barbie doll kind of way. She did have big boobs and a nice backside, but she was a mean Demon. My Baby Demons would definitely find her appetizing . . . Note to self: leave Babies at Dixie’s while in Hell. This one, whatever her name was, seemed smart. Mean and smart. Well, not so much smart as sly and greedy. She eyed my ears with great interest.#p#分页标题#e#
“Those are lovely earrings,” she purred, addressing me and the rocks in my ears that could feed a small country. She made a lovely face as if I either smelled bad or she was in serious pain.
“Yep.” I grinned, then sniffed the air around her and gagged.
She pressed her overly enhanced lips together and decided to ignore me again. Fine with me. She rolled her eyes and stared daggers at Dixie.
“Oh, right,” Dixie stammered. “This is my cousin Astrid. Astrid this is, um . . . this is . . . ”
“Amanda,” she hissed. “My name is Amanda.”
“I knew that.” Dixie smiled at her. “And I have to agree with you, Astrid’s earrings are lovely. They’re a present from my dad.”
“My, my, my,” Amanda choked out. “Such a lovely gift for one so distantly related . . . and a Vampyre to boot.”
Dixie shifted uncomfortably back and forth on her stilettos, but I’d had enough of the icky Amanda. I flashed her some fang and smacked my lips together hungrily. She was gone in a heartbeat.
“That was awesome.” Dixie giggled and hugged me tight. “I can’t stand her. I hope Daddy doesn’t keep that one around for long. I preferred Kitty, the last consort. She was as dumb as a box of hair, but she was a great cook and she smelled like honeysuckle.”
I really had nothing to add to that.
“Hey Dixie. Hey Astrid.” Myrtle, the bizarre little gal from the therapy session, ran up to us and slapped me on the back with such force I almost hit the deck. Holy Hell, she was strong.