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Irma was playing my BFF. That was a stretch, but she was thrilled.
Fifi took on the role of my sister. We didn’t look a thing alike, she was a blonde Amazon, and I was shorter with dark hair, but no one gave a rat’s ass.
Besides building the sets, Jonny was also acting in the show. He was playing my husband. Abaddon had been beyond clear with him that if he touched my rear end or my girls, he’d lose his hands and his junk.
I was playing me—Bitch Goddess Cecily. Of course, as written, it was nothing like me, but I was an actress. I’d make it work.
The real star of the show was Moon Sunny Swartz. She’d passed out in excitement when I’d explained the role she’d be playing. Sushi had done a bang-up job on Moon’s look. My furniture hump-loving buddy sported a wig of raven black hair that hung down to her waist, and her costume was insane. Sushi had gone with Oscar de La Renta. It was stunning and very Pandora. However, the best part was that Moon decided to black-out her two front teeth and used spirit gum to strategically glue on a few large warts. The one on the tip of her nose was killer.
It was a little risky, but we pulled in Bean Gomez as the cinematographer. I found out from Lilith that Bean had been loyal to her, not Pandora. When I’d explained what we were doing, she was all in.
The set was divided into thirds. One-third was a typical suburban living room. One-third was a front yard that one would find in any upper-middle-class neighborhood complete with flowers, manicured bushes, a mailbox and a large plastic pink flamingo—the plastic bird was Irma’s idea. No one wanted to hurt her feelings, so we left it. The last third was the interior of the community center—a bland room with a podium, a bunch of gray folding chairs and two tables loaded down with punch, cookies and vodka. Cher thought the vodka was a nice touch.
“We go in ten,” Cher shouted, running around like a chicken with her head cut off. My agent was in her element. In her quest to be the best producer alive, she done her makeup with extra care. Unfortunately, she hadn’t used a mirror. Her lips were blue, and her eyeliner was bright red. She looked diseased… and beautiful.
Standing in the living room set, I took a deep breath. Man-mom was at the safehouse, ready to push the buttons so we would go live on the Demon Network. He was waiting for the go from Abaddon. The title card introduced Pandora as the writer ofThe Wicked Warehouse. Sean had thought that was a move that would piss her off. I agreed. Plus, he didn’t want his name anywhere near the contents of the show.
Abaddon approached with a look of concern on his handsome face.
“What?”
“Feeling a little wonky about this,” he admitted.
“Join the club,” I agreed. “As dangerous as it might be, it’s more dangerous if Pandora is on the loose. Lilith isn’t safe. Man-mom’s not safe and Sean’s not safe. None of us are safe. I refuse to let her destroy what’s mine anymore.”
Abaddon wrapped me in his strong arms and hugged me tight. “Your life was a whole lot less complicated before we crashed into your world.”
I hugged him back. “Word. But I wouldn’t have you if you freaks hadn’t imploded my life. There’s no going back. I choose to go forward. Actually, I don’t have much of a choice in the matter, so I’m going forward.”
He gave me a lopsided smile. “I really, really, really like you, Cecily Bloom.”
I raised a brow. “Like? You onlylikeme?”
“You ready for me to up the ante?” he questioned. His tone was playful, but his eyes were deadly serious.
“You can’t take it back once you say it,” I warned him. My body felt like a live wire. The Demon could make me giddy with just a smile. The fact that he wanted to say the three forbidden words made me want to tackle him and play tonsil hockey.
He grinned and tweaked my nose. “I have no intention of taking it back.”
The badass Demon, known as Destroyer, loved me, and I loved him. Life didn’t come with guarantees. I’d learned that in a big way over the last few weeks. If we succeeded in luring Pandora to the set to put her back in the box—or something along those lines—there was no telling what would go down. I had no intention of biting it, but I’d already neglected telling someone else I’d loved them before they died. Granted, my mom hadn’t truly died, but the lesson had been learned. I would beat the beautiful Demon to the punch.
Leaning in, I pressed my lips lightly against his. “I love you, Abaddon.”
“I love you more, Cecily,” he whispered.
“That’s not possible,” I told him with a wide grin.
“Is,” he countered.
“Not,” I shot back.
He laughed. “How about we discuss this later? In bed. Naked.”
“Bold,” I replied with little shiver of anticipation.
“Is that a yes?”
“It’s a resounding yes,” I told him.
