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Fashionably Dead Down Under(5)

By:Robyn Peterman

“Hi,” I said as I burst from the curtains and shoved my hand out to shake his, acting like it was the most natural thing in the world to be eavesdropping on the King of Debauchery’s conversation from behind black brocade. “I’m Astrid and there was clearly some major fuc...mistake. I don’t live down here and I’m not dead. Well, actually I am dead, but not dead-dead. I’m undead and my undead, um . . . husband is going to be pissed. I’m a newlywed of sorts in a Vampyre undead way and I need to go home, your Honor of Darkness. Now.” I expelled a loud and long breath as I hadn’t inhaled through my insane diatribe.
“Interesting,” he purred and watched me. He hadn’t taken my hand and I let it drop limply to my side. “So you’re the Chosen One.”
“Apparently,” I snapped, annoyed that he didn’t have the decency to shake my hand. “And you’re the bad guy.”
“Occasionally,” Satan laughed and all the air left my lungs. God, he was beautiful . . . and scary.
“Cigarette?” he offered, holding a pack of my favorite brand out to me.
I was soooo tempted. I could breathe for God’s sake. Would one measly cigarette hurt me? Um, yes. Yes, it would. In my struggle with temptation, I’d all but forgotten I was pregnant. Would I have taken it if I didn’t have my little miracle inside of me? I’d like to think no, but I wasn’t too sure. Hell was going to be hell.
“No, I quit,” I said, looking away from my former vice.
“Such a shame,” he replied, watching me intently.
It was if he could read me without diving into my mind. Shit. Time for a change of subject . . . “I thought my dad was in charge down here.”
“You do realize down is a misnomer,” he informed me. He was in my space and I itched to take a step back, but knew in my gut if I moved away I would lose a few points in whatever fucked up game we were playing.
“I’m not following,” I said politely, very aware he avoided my statement.
“My dear beautiful creature,” Satan said, moving even closer. “It’s a misconception is that Hell is below and Heaven is above. What does that even mean? Nothing is up or down, that’s just mundane human mythology. Most likely the poor mortal fools made the mistake because Hell is occasionally called the Underworld. So very literal, those humans . . . Hell and Heaven are simply on different planes, accessible through portals. Earth was modeled after a combination of the seasons, climates and terrains of Heaven and Hell. We all share the same moon, sun and stars.”
“Interesting. So about my father . . . ” I said, ungracefully changing the subject. Again. Although what he said was fascinating and I did want to know more I was in a bit of a time crunch. The faster I could get out of here the better. I was certain Satan already knew if he was going to kill me, so I had very little to lose. I wanted answers, not a history lesson.
“Yes,” he replied silkily. “Tragic ending.”
“Who was he?” God, the Devil was more cryptic than the Vamps. “I thought he was in charge down here.”
That stopped the Devil in his tracks. “Did he tell you that?” he demanded in a voice that made my stomach drop to my toes.
“Um, no . . . not exactly. I guess I just assumed, or maybe my mom told me.” Under no circumstance would I tell him the Vampyres believed my dead pappy, Abaddon, was the leader of the Underworld.
“How rich,” he laughed, going from deadly back to blindingly beautiful in the matter of a moment. “Your father,” he spat derisively, “was definitely not in charge here. He was my minion and managed a certain—how shall I put it—area of Hell . . . but he was weak and stupid—unfit to rule.”
I stayed silent. The way he stared at me made my skin heat. He was breathtaking, but I wasn’t pulled to him in a sexual way. It was a power thing . . . I think.
“Daddy, you should tell her more,” Dixie said quietly from across the room. I’d forgotten she was still here. Her father’s presence was so large and overwhelming everything around him disappeared.
“She’s on a need to know basis,” he informed his daughter. “Welcome to Hell, Astrid. Say hello to your cousin Dixie.”
“My cousin?” WTF? If she was my cousin then he was my . . .
“Uncle,” Satan supplied as I quickly re-shut the faulty doors in my mind. Damnit to hell, I was one walking defect . . . nothing worked.
“That’s just awesome,” I gushed, inching my way to the door, “but I have to go. It’s been kind of lovely meeting you and I seriously hope we don’t have too many get togethers and . . . ”