Page 36

This was officially the worst day ever.

It wasn't just in my head.

My days were getting progressively worse, and the body count accompanying each was criminal.

I could write a book about it!

I'm sure it wouldn't be a bestseller, but some human television network might be interested in an anime adaptation because my story could give people hope that no matter what happens, the collective of crap from their lives cannot begin to add up to this single never-ending event in mine!

Why not recap while I wait for death?

First, I am most certainly falling for someone who doesn't find me attractive and is a real piece of work most of the time, but he's hell-bent on keeping me alive for some reason.

Not to mention, he is a Vampire.

Thankfully he's of the non-blood drinking variety, but a Vampire nonetheless, so I informed my brother and best friends that I wanted to have him eat me in a non-vampiry way.

I will never live that one down so I will chalk that one up to dying care of blue salve sucking my soul dry.

Then there is the problem of him being a Prince.

Everyone knows that Ari Li and royalty don't go hand in hand unless it is hand-to-hand combat.

And we can't forget that someone tried to kill me, again, and in the process killed six more people—three of whom were decent Wights and acquaintances of mine.

All of that sucks, but the main concern is that someone was trying to kill me and lots of innocent people are dying as a result.

And now I'm seeing dead people!

And worst yet, I'm in hell.

What is this god-awful music? 1980s Euro pop?

Holy crap, I died and this is Hell.

Is this the David Hasselhoff remix of 99 Luftballons?!

Dante was right, there are levels to Hell, but none of them were labeled torture by the Hoff.

What level is this? Euro-trash bratwurst-flavored dance club level?

A sub-level on your descent deeper into the abyss?

I don't remember Dante talking about this.

"Must we listen to this horrific desecration of Nena, Majandra?" Viggo complained.

He sounded so childlike, which was slightly endearing, and exhausted, and I truly appreciated that he was trying to rid the atmosphere of the Hoff.

A female laughed before the music was turned down to a less annoying hum in the background. "Little Flea, oh how I've missed you. I wish that your visit was under better circumstances though."

"As do I, and I hate it when you call me that."

The female laughed again. "Little Flea. Little Flea. Little Flea. Get used to it since you are closer now thus, I will be able to see you more often. Your company I have desired for many years, and it is long overdue. Now you are the size of a Shire Horse!" she teased.

Viggo groaned. "As much as I want to scold you about your lack of propriety, I cannot. I would enjoy your company for dinner very much. I have missed you immensely, and you have proven more than once that you inherited the many personable traits that very few possess in such a bloodline, myself included."

She chuckled.

Is Viggo arranging for a Blood Whore with me in the room?

That wasn't something I asked every day.

And to think I thought I was falling for, what did Zane call him again, Prince de Babinbitch was it? There were so many options, but what it amounted to was I thought I was falling for him.

Talk about a lapse in judgment!

"Glad to be of service," Majandra said with a throaty chuckle. "How is the family?"

Viggo snorted, there's a first. "Are you honestly trying to make small talk? I would have thought someone of your vast distinction and education would show a bit more advanced conversational skills when it came to gathering useful information from the one they are conversing with."

"Merely offering convivial conversation since your mood is anything but," she said, undeterred by his contemptuous tone. "I love you, and care deeply for your father, but your brother can rot in hell for all I care."

Lovely, they get a family discount.

"Father is as well as his empty home will allow him to be. My brother, I would not know, the last time I talked to Jean-Luc was when I was fifteen and you know why. Regardless, we do not see eye to eye, literally."

They both chuckled; it must have been an inside joke.

"I greatly appreciate you helping her, and I will compensate you and the girls for the lost revenue due to the Imperial Guard presence," Viggo promised.

"It is the least I can do for you and Althea, and the girls would appreciate it, but your money is no good here. Your little friend is rather... What is the word?"

"Horny?" Viggo dryly offered. "And for the record, Zaidin is not my friend. He refused to go without his sister. That is the only reason why he is here."

Zannie is paying for companionship? Gross.

"That was not always the case," Majandra reminded him. "You two were once like brothers, and as thick as thieves."

"If we were like brothers, why would he pretend to not even know me when we were roommates!" he snapped at her.

"What do you speak of?" Majandra demanded.

Viggo huffed. "I apologize," he said. "I do not long to speak of it. Losing her was hard enough, but losing my brother when he was right in front of me was like a dagger to my heart, and not something I long to speak of... I cannot handle that again."

The pain in his voice caused what felt like a dagger to be driven into my heart.

Majandra sighed. "Little Flea, I cannot speak for his actions or why he treated you so poorly. And I would not say he was horny in the least. Lonely more than anything, which is to be expected since his soul is-"

Viggo growled, loudly, in warning.

"Very well, still a touchy subject," she surmised. "Did she just moan?"

Viggo chuckled softly under his breath. "No comment," he said with the unmistakable sound of a smirk in his tone.

"Uh huh," Majandra dryly grumbled. "The Imperial Guards are keeping Young Master Li in check and I ordered none of the girls to take his flirting as a contract, and since I am not running a charity, they will not give or offer him companionship in any form. I must admit, that Zaidin has grown and matured into a very handsome young man. He reminds me of his Uncle and Grandfather and is very persuasive. If I did not know any better, I would swear the little brat was using thrall."

What?

"Do not say that!" Viggo snapped in an angry whisper. "Such accusations are a death sentence! You of all people know that."

Majandra sighed. "I know, Little Flea, but you have to admit-"

"Enough!" he snarled. "Do not speak of such falsehoods again."

"Very well," Majandra said, and didn't sound happy that he was bossing her around as he was.

What a jerk.