bedeviled & beyond 06 - bedeviled & befouled (5 page)

He grasped my arm and spun me toward the door, pulling my arm through his. Speechless, I stumbled with him through the waiting room, blinking stupidly as he turned to the woman behind the desk. “See you in an hour, Mx. Pickles.”

The woman gave him her insincere smile. “Meatloaf and Jell-O?”

Gus opened the outer door and ushered me through. “Lime Jell-O, Mx. Pickles. Better than sex.”

The woman made a high-pitched choking sound that I assumed was laughter, cut off when Gus closed the door.

“Mx. Pickles? Is that some kind of joke?”

Gus pulled my arm through his again and started off. “Not at all. Last names don’t mean anything in Heaven so we make them up.”

I snorted. “Are you telling me that sour-faced woman in there chose the name Pickles?”

Gus frowned down at me. “Mx. Pickles has a wonderful sense of humor. You must have just gotten on her bad side.”

“Is she a double-sided coin?”

Gus grinned, squeezing my arm under his. “It’s a beautiful day.”

I looked away from my therapist for the first time since exiting the therapy building and sucked in a surprised breath. The area we walked through looked like Earth, with green trees and shrubs and flowers overflowing vibrantly colored beds lining both sides of the red-brick sidewalk. “Wow, color.”

“Of course, why wouldn’t there be?”

“Because everything is always white.”

Gus’ eyebrows lifted. “Is it?”

“Are you screwing with me?”

“I don’t think so. But let me think about that.”

I laughed. “I’m starting to think you’re crazier than I am.”

Rather than being offended, Gus chuckled. “You could be right.”

We walked in companionable silence for a few minutes and I started to relax, putting the tension-filled morning behind me. Birds sang high in the deep-green trees, a soft breeze wafted warmly past, and enormous, intricately marked butterflies danced from flower to flower around us. For the first time since I’d been coming there, it actually did feel like Heaven.

A woman was walking toward us on the sidewalk and, as she reached us, she put her hand on my arm and smiled. Bright power jolted from her to me, silvery and light. “How are you today, dear?”

I gasped as the power stung me and jerked my hand away. Gus’ face turned thoughtful but he said nothing. The woman walked on and I rubbed the spot where she’d touched me, frowning over my shoulder at her. “Did you see that?”

“Hmm.”

Seeing that Gus was buried in his thoughts, I shook my head and let it go. A moment later we stopped, allowing an elderly man to scurry across the sidewalk in front of us. The man stopped and reached a hand toward Gus. “Hello, doc.”

Gus clasped the man’s hand. “Barnabus. Are you enjoying this gorgeous day?”

“I certainly am.” He glanced at me.

“Oh, I’m sorry. This is Astra. Astra, this is Barnabus. He used to be one of my clients.”

Barnabus reached a gnarled hand in my direction and I clasped it. “Hello.” Silvery power shot out of his hand into mine. I jumped and made a surprised sound. “What the...”

Gus pulled me on down the sidewalk. “See you later, Barnabus.”

“Why is everybody zapping me?”

Gus shrugged. “Static electricity?”

“He didn’t zap you when you touched him.”

Gus just shrugged again.

“Astra.”

I turned at the sound of a familiar voice and smiled when I saw Flick walking hand in hand with a large, ebony-haired woman who was dressed head-to-toe in black leather. My old guardian angel had grown his stringy brown hair out into a ponytail, which he wore in a single braid, plaited through with colorful beads. The goatee that had been a pitiful shadow on his chin the last time I’d seen him had grown into a moderately respectable facial ornament, with the side benefit that it strengthened his not-so-manly chin. Flick even looked as if he’d bulked up a bit.

Despite his added bulk, the woman Flick was with still seemed bigger. Her shoulders were broader than his and she had a tattoo of a dancing angel on one biceps. Her face was round, with high cheekbones, a broad forehead and wide, deep-red lips. I barely recognized Merriam without the rapier strapped at her hip and several platinum knives sheathed in her wide, brown belt. Flick’s girlfriend walked right up to me and pulled me into a hug. “How you been, girl?”

I hugged her back, glad to see her again. “I’ve been okay. How about you? Been in any good battles lately?” I’d learned Merriam was trying to earn a place in the Archangel ranks. To do it, she needed to prove herself both on and off the battlefield.

“Flick and I just got back from a humdinger in the twelfth dimension. The Orcs went after the Hobbits again and we needed to step in.” She grinned while giving a mock shudder. “Those Orcs are nasty sons of bitches.”

I grinned, enjoying her enthusiasm more than I would have expected. Flick stepped forward and made as if he would hug me too. I quickly stuck my hand out and, looking more relieved than he should have, Flick clasped it.

Silver energy flowed between us and I didn’t even jump. I was starting to wonder if I’d become some kind of receiver since I’d stepped onto celestial soil.

Gus dropped his arm around me and I felt a tiny flutter on my aura. But when I frowned at him he turned to Merriam. “We’re going to the cafeteria. Would you guys like to join us?”

Merriam’s wide face split in a genuine smile. “Meatloaf?” Her aquamarine-colored eyes sparkled with pleasure.

“And lime Jell-O,” Gus added. He urged me forward and Merriam and Flick fell in with us. We headed for an enormous white building in the near distance that was prominently marked with a large sign in golden lettering that said The Last Supper.

I snickered. “Perfect.”

Flick threw me a smile and, on impulse, I reached for his hand, squeezing it. “So what do you do while Merriam fights?”

“I’m on the battlefield too. In the strategy tent.”

“He’s a genius at battle strategy,” Merriam added, giving him a hug.

Flick flushed with embarrassment.

In that moment I realized that the universe truly did work. When Flick and Merriam had found each other, I’d been so busy making fun of him for finally losing his virginity at five-hundred years of age that it never occurred to me they could be well matched. Even Aunt Myra had had her doubts about Merriam’s suitability for Flick. But they’d found their paradise and were making it work.

It gave me hope for Dialle and my future. Though the thought of how he’d looked when I left—the pain contorting his sexy features—made my chest tighten with fear.

“There’s Myra.” Gus lifted a hand and called out and I saw my aunt halt mid-conversation a few yards away and nod in our direction. She touched the other angel she’d been speaking to on the arm and turned away, striding toward us with a stern look on her beautiful face.

“Oh goody.” I felt like a wedding party watching a thundercloud head their way.

Myra walked up to Gus and embraced him. “Hello, old friend.” She tugged on an orange strand of his hair. “I like the hair.”

“Thanks. You don’t think it’s too much?”

Myra laughed. Her clear, blue gaze found me. “How are your sessions going, Astra?”

I glanced at Gus. I was pretty sure they’d been a frunkin’ waste of time so far, but I didn’t want to say it in front of him. “Okay.”

“She thinks they’ve been a waste of time,” Gus offered.

“Hey, are you in my head?”

“In more ways than one, my dear.” Gus laughed at this, a great fan of himself. “But don’t worry, Astra. We’re not done yet.” He glanced at Myra and some kind of internal dialogue must have happened because she suddenly reached for me, grabbing my hand and holding on when I tried to jerk away.

White hot fire burned through me, searing my flesh where it touched Myra’s and then cutting a knife-like swath through my insides. It was like swallowing something that was way too hot and feeling it burn all the way down to your stomach.

“Frunk me to Hades and back, that hurts! What the hell is going on with you people? Why is everybody trying to fry my ass?” I jerked my hand harder and Myra finally let go.

Gus reached out and touched my shoulder, his dark eyes going blank.

The flutter I’d felt a few minutes earlier returned, strong enough to be uncomfortable. “Hey! What are you doing?”

Gus let go of me and grinned. “That one took,” he told Myra.

My aunt expelled air as if she’d been holding it. “Thank Him! So it needs to be family then?”

“It would seem so. It’s a good interim solution, until she figures out how to amp herself up, anyway.”

My temper, never a snake with a long tail, had me trembling at that point. “Would somebody please tell me what the hell is going on?”

Gus started to put an arm around my shoulders and I jerked away. He dropped his arm with a sigh. “I’m sorry, my dear. You just weren’t relaxed enough in the facility. We thought if we ran this test in more familiar surroundings you might be more receptive.”

“What test?”

“Essentially, Astra, your body has become like a battery. You demonstrate the ability to hold power but you aren’t able to manufacture it yourself—not yet anyway. I’m hopeful we’ll find the key to getting you back to normal eventually. But in the meantime, I thought if we could figure out a way to charge your battery—so to speak—you could at least function normally until we can figure out the rest.”

Hope flared in my breast. It wasn’t perfect, but it was certainly something I could work with. “How long would the power last once I was...erm...charged?”

Gus shrugged. “We’ll need to run further tests, but let’s take it a step at a time.” He started walking again, toward The Last Supper, seemingly forgetting me and everybody else.

“Wait, what’s the next step? I don’t have a lot of time.”

Gus turned without stopping. “The next step is meatloaf and lime Jell-O. Hurry up. I see a line forming.”

Myra, Flick and Merriam hurried after him.

Oh good Him. I’m surrounded by idiots. Despite my anxiousness and worry, though, I couldn’t stop the smile that tipped the corners of my lips upward. I just might be able to get my magic back.

And that meant I could keep Dialle.

CHAPTER FOUR

Old Friends, New Challenges

The Devil you need must first survive, as blackness fills his soul.

For the Devil you need can’t cling to life, when death asserts control.

Hot lips scoured down my throat. Hard hands found my breasts, enveloping them in a near painful grip. I skimmed my hands over a well-toned back and opened my thighs wider, delighting in the stretching fullness of the rigid flesh thrusting between them.

A low growl throbbed on the air, bringing gooseflesh up all along my arms and twisting the knot of fear in my breast. Sharp teeth scraped the sensitive skin of my neck, a fiery invasion that rode the edge of pleasure, despite the pain.

I cried out, trying to pry my eyes open, and discovered I couldn’t. I was locked into the dream, with only a twisted kind of lust to keep me from completely succumbing to the fear.

What was I rutting with? And why did it feel so good? The smell of sulfur assailed me. The distant cry of dragons screaming joined with the crackle of fire to create the overwhelming sensation that I was in Hell.

Why would I dream of being in Hell?

My hands shoved at my phantom lover—the fear and pain finally sending my mind into full-blown panic. He snarled, the hard hands clutching me more tightly against him, and the pain on my neck exploded into agony. I screamed, my hands flailing wildly against the warm satin of the torso pinning me down.

Despite the horror blooming in my mind, my traitorous flesh took the agony and transformed it into pleasure. My screams of pain soon turned to screams of delight as blood ran in twin ribbons down my throat, pooling in the crevice between my breasts. I pictured the bright streams of red turning dark as the volume of blood grew. As my body writhed and convulsed in the ultimate pleasure, my mind started to twist, shutting down to save itself. Sensation softened and was muted behind a looming oblivion. A soft charcoal blanket of nothingness folded over my senses, threatening to take me under.

“Hello, Astra.”

I blinked, looking around. I was standing in a strange place, surrounded by the smell of lemons. My mother stood several feet away, a mean little smile on her beautiful face. “Hello, Mother. What are you doing in my dream?”

Danika Phelps looked just as I remembered her from my childhood. She was dressed in a long, flowing dress with tall, leather boots. Her silky, black hair was loose, flowing over slim shoulders and ending in a thick, straight fringe just above her breasts. I felt the tug of childhood memories, mostly bad, as I looked at her standing there. Her velvet black gaze flashed with emotion. “I’ve come to tell you that we are going to destroy your delicious Dialle. It is unfortunate, but his father deserves his throne back, and I’m committed to helping him.

I shook my head, numbed under the haze of my dreamlike state. “You can’t, you’re in Hell.”

She smiled and turned away. “This is your only warning, daughter. Walk away from him now. Or you will go down with him.”

Panic played a dull beat in my breast as her words sank in. Dialle is in danger? I shook my head, denying my mother’s words. But even as I did, horror found a place in my breast, and sent me spiraling into velvet unconsciousness.

~SC~

The next day, I sat in my usual place in Gus’ office, hunkered over a steaming mug of coffee. My eyes felt gritty and my body weary, despite the fact that I’d spent ten hours in my bed the night before.

Even after climbing out of it and moving determinedly through my day, the nightmare from the night before still clung to me. I couldn’t shake it no matter what mental exercises I’d used to try to rid myself of it.

I planned to ask Gus about the nightmare when he came in.

The door opened and Mx. Pickles stuck her head through. She observed me with her usual stoic expression. “Gus isn’t going to be in for a while, Mx. Phelps. He’s asked me to tell you that your aunt Myra is waiting for you in the physical training area.”