Fashionably Dead Down Under(53)

Theodore cleared his throat and Satan ended his little performance. “There shall be one winner. There will be ten rounds. The player with the most wins shall be the champion. If the winner is not Satan,” Theodore paused dramatically, “the winner will decide the parameters in the deal with the Devil. If Satan wins, he shall make a deal with each and every one of you.” Theodore stepped back to his spot.
“What the hell kind of rules are those?” Dante demanded petulantly. “I call bullshit.”
“Then leave,” Satan said and everyone froze. “But, Dante my friend, if you leave you shall never be allowed back.”
Dante cleared his throat several times and shifted back and forth. His gaze narrowed and his face turned an unbecoming shade of red. “I can abide by the rules,” he muttered and took a seat at the table.
“You’re a fucking opportunist asshole, but I’m in,” Hemingway bellowed with a shit eating grin on his face.
“Carl,” Satan instructed. “Please bring Ernest a fresh martini. Use the chilled glasses and the cold onions. And make it dry.”
“Good man,” Hemingway grunted as he took his seat. “Good man.”
“Now, neighbor, while I do find your rules a bit slanted in your favor, I’ve been looking forward to this for months. I’m in,” Mister Rogers said sweetly. “And Carl, if it’s not too much trouble, I’d love a glass of milk and some cookies.”
“Thath no trouble at all, thir,” Carl said, bowing to Mister Rogers.
“Thank you.”
Ethan said nothing. He walked to the table and took his seat. Damn, he was hot. Unfortunately all my cousins and the skank-ass Amanda thought so too. Lust couldn’t keep her eyes off of him and it made me feel a little crazy.
“Green doesn’t become you,” Ethan said.
“Everything becomes me,” I snapped. His chuckle bounced around inside my head and I almost slapped him until he sent a visual of what he planned to do to me later this evening. “Okay, fine. I won’t kill her, but I want to.”
His wink made me smile. He was mine. I had nothing to worry about.
“Let the games begin,” my uncle said.
The atmosphere shifted quickly to intense in complete juxtaposition to Journey’s greatest hits that spilled out of the hidden speakers. I watched the players, but I also watched the peanut gallery. Cole kept his eyes firmly on Amanda as she stared moon eyed at my uncle. He clearly didn’t trust her and I was curious what he knew. Dante kept glancing up at the Sins. From where I stood, it was unclear who he was making eye contact with. It was either Sloth or Greed. Greed. It was definitely Greed. Interesting. Was she helping him cheat? Would those girls work against their father?
Carl, Janet and Myrtle quietly made sure drinks were full and no one went without as many weenies as they wanted. Janet placed a large plate of pigs in a blanket next to Satan and he savored them the same way some enjoy fine caviar. Bizarre. Hemingway threw back his martinis and Carl kept them coming at the Devil’s discreet nods. I was certain the drinks got stronger and stronger.
Dante sipped wine and Mister Rogers drank his milk and ate his cookies. Ethan was the only one who ingested nothing. He was of a Vampyre age that he could enjoy a blood-laced beverage, but that was not on the menu. The first two hands went to Ethan and the second two to Satan.
“Why have we lowered ourselves to play with Vampyres?” Dante groused, slamming his hand down. “Are we slumming it now?”
“Touché, Dante,” Satan said in an overly polite manner. “Perhaps next time we can play on level eight or seven or six . . . Ahhh, but wait, they don’t exist.”
Dante’s fists clenched and his jaw worked overtime. “Pardon my rudeness,” he ground out. “It was thoughtless of me.”
Ethan simply nodded and then ignored him. Mister Rogers shook his head sadly and Hemingway burst into laughter.
“My God, man, relax. It’s a game. We’re playing with the Devil–why not throw a Vampyre in for good measure?” Hemingway said and signaled to Carl for another round. “Who cares if you lose? I’ve been making deals with the goddamn Devil my whole life . . . what’s one more?”
“Well said.” Satan grinned at the famous writer and glanced over and winked at me.
It was the first time he had acknowledged my presence this evening and I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t thrill me. My uncle was a magical evil man. He was temptation and all the sins of his daughters rolled into one. The safety I felt in his company was a lie. I needed to remember that everything down here was a game and the stakes were high.