“No, I don’t.” He closed his eyes and focused. “I feel nothing.”
The pressure on my chest eased, but the eerie presence remained. No one noticed, or if they did they showed no sign. Unable to hone in, I figured I’d continue to play Sherlock Holmes and delve back into the non-magic intel.
“Why does Wrath sit there?” I asked Dixie.
“She will become the leader of Hell when Daddy decides to retire or whatever,” she said quietly.
“What if Big Lips has a boy? Does that fuck up the line?”
“As far as I know it would, but I don’t think the baby is his. Amanda gets around—at least she did before she dug her claws into Daddy.”
“Does Wrath think the baby is your dad’s?”
“Nope, she’s positive that Amanda will be in deep shit—her words, not mine—after she gives birth.”
I was so happy I wouldn’t be here for that shit show.
“Who’s behind Wrath in line for the throne?”
“Envy. then Greed, then Lust, then the triplets, then me,” she said.
I stored the information away and eyed the desserts that were coming out to the table. Shitshitshit. Black raspberry chip ice cream? Was someone screwing with me? That was my favorite and I almost threw a tantrum.
“You can do this,” Ethan said, holding me back from the ice cream.
“I just want to sob,” I whispered. “What the hell is wrong with me?”
“You’re having our baby and he apparently wants ice cream.” He smiled and squeezed my hand.
“I guess so,” I pouted.
“I told you I’d give you what you want if you give me what I want,” Dante hissed under his breath to Greed. He clearly didn’t know about super duper immortal hearing skills. Although no one else seemed to be listening.
“Dante,” she purred. “You get yours after I get mine.”
Um, gross. I did not want to hear them discuss the arrangements or, God forbid, details of their rendezvous. Trying to tune them out, I refocused on the desserts I couldn’t eat. Note to self . . . no more dinner parties while pregnant.
“I just want it. Now,” he insisted. “If you don’t give it to me my way then you’ll get nothing.”
Now, unfortunately, he had my full attention. I was about to throw up in my mouth and I didn’t need the ice cream to help me. I had no clue what she saw in him. He was a douche.
“You are more trouble than you’re worth,” she snapped and turned to chat with her sister Envy, leaving the asshole with no one. Gluttony had turned her back to him at the beginning of the meal.
“So, Dante my man,” Satan bellowed. “Are you here taking poker lessons or trying to find out if I’ve hidden some levels from you?” The crowd tittered and Dante fumed.
“I’m still here trying to figure out how to be a cheating, conniving, soulless bastard like you,” he shot back and the room went silent.
After an uncomfortably long pause, the Devil threw his head back and laughed. The other Demons followed suit much to the great relief of Greed, who shot eye daggers at Dante.
“Those are some rather harsh words for someone trying to get into my daughter’s pants,” Satan added as the laughter died down.
“Daddy,” Greed gasped.
“Yes, well . . . my apologies,” Dante muttered insincerely. “Greed, a word?” he stood and pulled her chair out for her. The crowd stood and began to mill about as after dinner aperitifs were passed around.
“Something is off,” I muttered and realized I was talking to myself.
Ethan had been drawn into an animated conversation with the Devil and the Seven Deadly Sins were chatting it up with Amanda the pregnant consort. No one back at home was going to believe any of this. I had a difficult time absorbing it. I watched as Dante roughly led Greed from the room and the voodoo stopped. The dark magic left the room with them. Bingo. It could not be this easy.
I quickly made my way out of the dining room. I caught Dixie’s eye right as I reached the door. She arched an eyebrow in question, but I simply smiled and waved.
The hallway was dark. Thank God for Vamp vision.
I heard them from a distance and I made my way toward the sound. The hallway was thickly carpeted and I was able to move silently. Their voices were raised, but where was the magic? It had disappeared. Crap. It sounded like they were fussing at each other or someone was injured—it sound horrific. Would they lead me to the Sword? Could I go home tonight? I was curious to meet God, but I wanted to get out of Hell even worse. Could it really be so simple?
No. Of course fucking not.
I picked up my pace and rounded the corner. If Dante had hurt Greed he was toast. I liked her and I . . . Oh. My. Hell. My first thought was that I would have to bleach my eyes . . . Dante’s pants were at his ankles and Greed was on her knees in front of him. The slurping and moaning set my gag reflex in motion.