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Fashionably Dead Down Under(57)

By:Robyn Peterman

“Lance, I don’t want the job. However if I did, I could lead the shit out of you filthy asswipes.”
He growled and advanced. OMG, he picked the wrong girl to fuck with. I was done. Done. I’d been dragged to Hell, made to talk to walls, watched my mate get manhandled by a Sin, got bitten by Hell Hounds and then shoved through a flaming door into a place that ten thousand years of therapy couldn’t erase. I was done. I mean WTF—how much was a hormonal pregnant half-Vamp half-Demon with semi-exposed breasts supposed to take?
“Back off,” I hissed.
“Make me,” he snapped and moved faster. He came at me with his claws raised and his mouth open.
He asked for it. I swung my arms and slashed through the air. I had no real idea what I was doing, but winging it had worked so far. The room turned a hazy red and I would bet my undead life that my eyes had turned the same color. Glittering black and crystal white sparks flew from my fingertips and attacked Lance with a vengeance. I closed my eyes when I heard him scream. I let my mind float and I entered his, fully prepared to destroy him. The pop of his body blowing into thousands of tiny pieces was so close and a sense of excitement filled me.
“Do it,” his mind screamed to me. “Do it,” he begged. “End me.”
What? He wanted to die? For real and forever?
I pulled my mind back from his and stared at him. My magic held him in a stasis and he writhed in pain. I touched my angel wings again and created a shield around myself. I didn’t want one of these fuckers sneaking up from behind while I figured out what Lance meant and why I was becoming such a blood-hungry psycho.
The Demons made a menacing circle around us and I wondered if I could take all fifty or so out at once. I seriously hoped I didn’t have to find out.
“What did you mean?” I demanded. “Why do you want me to end you?”
“I know nothing of what you speak of,” he snapped. The circle of love surrounding us growled and began to keen like mourners at a funeral.
“Yes. You do,” I ground out. “Tell me.” With a wave of my hand I increased the magic. He panted and convulsed on the ground at my feet. “Tell me.”
“Fine,” he gasped. “Look at us,” he cried. “Look at us. See how many have tried to turn decent. Look at the tiny pieces of decomposing flesh on our bodies. We can’t do it. There is no way out.”
“We were lied to and used by your father,” a Demon yelled from the circle.
I rolled my eyes. “It takes two to tango, idiot,” I shot back. “Don’t try to tell me you’re simply innocent bystanders and got fucked over by my big bad daddy.”
“We are not innocent.” Lance wheezed some nasty goop. Whatever insides he had were beginning to come up. “But we were no more evil than the Demons on the main floor until your father came along.”
“Free will, Mister. My dad may have been certifiable, but you had a choice.”
“No,” he groaned. “No choice.”
“He ate my child,” one shouted from the circle.
I almost threw up in my mouth. “He did what?” I whispered. I eased off on the magic trapping Lance. He now lay still at my feet. He watched me closely and his eyes still begged me to destroy him.
“He killed family members and threatened us with destroying each of our lines if we didn’t comply,” Lance explained.
“So, I’m supposed to believe that you were all blackmailed into becoming the lowest form of Demon imaginable by my dead pappy.”
Not one of them said a word, but stared at me with eyes that had seen true horror. It was hard to buy. I was in a place where lying was the norm and most sins were overlooked. Why was I starting to believe this?
“How did he have so much power?” I asked, looking for a chink I could find in their story.
“He was Satan’s brother. He had magic beyond the normal realm of a Demon and he had his brother’s ear in the beginning . . . before Satan shunned him.”
“Okay,” I said, pacing back and forth, being careful not to get too close to the edge of the circle. “I get that he had you by the balls, but are you telling me you’ve done nothing wrong? You are innocents sent here by mistake?” I asked sarcastically.
“No, we no longer deserve another chance. Ever. But we don’t deserve this. We were deceived and did not choose this of our own free will.”
Holy Hell, talk about some gray areas . . .
“What do you do down here?” I asked.
“We watch,” Lance said and shook his head in disgust.
“That’s it? You just watch souls burn?”
“Yes. We watch and we go just a little more insane with each passing hour.”