Fashionably Dead Down Under(33)

“Coffee,” Dixie sang and passed cups to her sisters. “Would you like some, Astrid?”
“Nope. Vampyre.”
“Right.” She giggled and served her sisters dutifully.
“Do you need blood?” Wrath inquired as she put an alarming amount of sugar in her coffee.
“No, not at the moment. Are you offering?” Her head snapped up and there was serious interest in her eyes.
“I might be,” she answered silkily. “Let me know if I can be of service.”
“Will do.” Will not. There was no way Heaven or Hell I would drink the blood of a several thousand year old Demon . . . not to mention I was fairly sure she had some kind of icky girl cousin crush on me.
“What are your plans for the day, dear?” Envy asked.
“I’ll spend the day with Dixie and rest. This has been overwhelming so far.”
“Very well then,” Greed said and gave me a light squeeze. “We shall see you soon.”
With that, they stood and vanished in a blast of black glitter. I let out the breath I’d been holding and sagged in relief in my chair.
“Do they come to breakfast often?” I asked a similarly relieved Dixie.
“Never,” she admitted and scrunched her nose. “Sorry about that.”
“I can handle them.”
“Better you than me.” She giggled and picked at a Danish. “Did you enjoy your visit with Grandpa?”
“Actually I did and I didn’t break one single bone in his body.” I grinned and sniffed the coffee. “God, I miss caffeine.”
“Do you want to try it?”
“No,” I interjected quickly. “I tried peanut butter last night and almost hurled.”
“Well, I have my therapy group coming later this afternoon and I want to go to the grocery and buy some snacks. Would you like to join me?”
“Hell has grocery stores?”
“Yep, we even have malls,” she said with great pride.
“But you’re a princess—can’t you have your stuff delivered?”
“I can.” She nodded her head. “But I want to live like a normal person and I enjoy getting out. I do take a bodyguard, but I drive myself.”
I gave her the thumbs up and she giggled. I had no desire to go to the grocery and I wanted to find my little ones. “Have you seen my Baby Demons?”
“No, but I’m sure they’re fine,” she said, grabbing her purse and keys. “If you want to walk the property make sure you take a bodyguard. They say there was a mild Hellquake during the night and I don’t want you to get lost or hurt.”
“Are those common this time of year?”
“Hellquakes are never common. The first time I felt one was yesterday with you. Word is that it wasn’t a Hellquake at all. It was some kind of unnatural phenomenon. Something bad.”
“Well, that’s great and especially since it coincides with my arrival.”
“Yeah, unfortunately that’s the word around town too,” she shrugged and gave me an apologetic smile. “You take a guard if you want to wander the grounds. Okay?”
“You got it.” Not.

Chapter 11
Making peace with my Demon side was difficult—mainly because I had no freakin’ clue how to do it. The book was of no help whatsoever. It was just history and gobbledygook. Although it did have a detailed picture of The Sword of Death—one of the most impressive pieces of deadly art I’d ever seen. If I was to find it, I definitely didn’t want to touch that sucker . . . way too evil for me. In my gut I knew this was the book the Sins were talking about. It was probably significant that I could read it, but that was the least of my problems at the moment. After Dixie left I paced her house trying to pick up on the energy Grandpa left behind. I felt things, but I wasn’t sure which energy belonged to which Demon. Shitshitshit. I was worried about my little Demons. I needed to find Ross, Rachel, Beyonce and Abe and I was hoping to be able to use that nifty little energy trick to find my babies.
“Hell’s bells,” I muttered. I hopped around, hoping to release some tension and become one with my inner fucking Demon. “How hard can this be?”
Hard.
I tried walking and talking and yelling and meditating. Nothing. I couldn’t make the black glitter gloves show up at will and my Vampyre powers were still MIA. Ten more minutes. I’d give myself ten more minutes to try and get this shit and then I was going out anyway. There was no telling what kind of trouble my tiny monsters could get into in Hell.
Peeking out of the window, I sized up the bodyguards. They looked more like gun-toting, bodybuilding male models than they did bodyguards. I was certain they knew their job. Satan wouldn’t leave just any old guards with his daughter. The one on the far left looked the weakest. He was who I wanted to be my escort. Ten minutes . . .