Read bedeviled & beyond 07 - beset & bewildered Online
Authors: Sam Cheever
Tags: #fantasy & futuristic romance, #books futuristic romance, #Romantic Comedy, #books romance angels & devils, #science fiction romance angels & devils, #Demons & Devils urban fantasy, #humorous paranormal romance
He looked away, guilt transforming his features.
Panic swirled in my chest. “We
do
know how to fix it, right?”
Torre stood and paced away, saying nothing.
“Dammit, Torre! You can’t tell me this frunkin’ mark I never wanted is going to kill me and there’s nothing anybody can do about it!”
He swung around. “I won’t let it kill you.”
“Then tell me how to fix it.”
He shook his head. “You will not like it.”
I was sure of that. I hadn’t liked anything that had happened to me since he’d flown back into my life. “Regardless, I need to know my options. Spill it.”
His hand fell to the hilt of his sword and his expression darkened. Clearly he thought I was going to take his next statement badly.
He couldn’t have been more right.
“I can replace the current mark with a new one. A better one. One that will hold this time.”
Holy Gargoyle toes. I hadn’t seen that one coming.
CHAPTER TEN
An Impossible Choice
Death of my body?
Or death of my heart?
The Supreme High Witch of the Angel City Coven was impossibly beautiful in a way that made me hate her on sight. I especially hated the way she licked her full lips and batted thick blonde eyelashes when she saw Torre.
Ignoring the witch’s obvious come-on...mostly...Torre took my hand and kissed the palm, letting his lips linger there. “I’ll leave you. I’m sure you have much to consider.”
He wasn’t kidding. I had to consider whether to let the poison eat me away to nothing or just leap into the fiery pits and be done with it.
The idea of letting Torre tamper with the mark again was terrifying. Though, on the other hand, he might finish me off faster if he tried. A definite bonus.
Whatever I decided, I had to take into account the agony I’d felt when the mark had failed the first time and he’d rejected me to soothe his damaged ego. There are some kinds of pain a woman should never subject herself to more than once if she has a choice.
The question was whether I had a choice.
Astis wrenched her gaze from Torre’s taut, round behind just long enough to grimace at me. “You look like the inside of a gargoyle.”
I grimaced. “Nice bedside manner.”
Astis’s laughter was everything I’d expected. It made me want to wrap my fingers around her throat and squeeze really hard. But then she’d probably think I was making a pass. She was a crazy witch who took pleasure from pain. If only I could give her my poisonous mark. She would orgasm herself to death.
The witch rubbed her hands together and placed one of them on my temple. The other rested lightly between my breasts.
As she leaned close, her sweetly scented breath playing gently over my face, I realized my jaw was clenched and my hands were fisted. I unclenched my fingers and tried to relax.
Despite her invasive posture, the witch seemed to barely know I was there. She had her eyes closed and was “listening” to my condition with her magic energy.
The door slammed open again and I jumped. Slayer ate the distance between the door and the bed in several long, powerful strides. His sexy stubbled jaw tight, he reached for the witch’s arm, seemingly fighting to restrain himself as his fingers wrapped around her slender limb and squeezed.
She sighed, her lips curving into a smile. “Harder, halfling. Squeeze it like you mean it.”
He shook his head, looking at me. “Is she behaving herself?”
I wanted to say no so Slayer would drag her out of there. The woman gave me the serious creeps. “She’s fine.”
He dropped her arm like he’d been burned and her smile turned to a pout. Opening her eyes, Astis winked at him. “I’m available any time you feel the need to beat a woman into submission, hard and sexy.”
Slayer scanned a look over her body as if he were considering it.
I growled a little before I could stop myself.
The witch shoved a strand of golden-white hair behind one ear and straightened so he could look his fill. Her eyes glistened with pleasure and she pushed her shoulders back to highlight her small, firm breasts.
He finally curled his lip as if he found her distasteful. “I prefer my women less crazy.”
Her gaze hardened for just a beat and then she smiled. It wasn’t a kind smile. “You don’t know what you’re missing handsome.”
He flicked a hand toward me. “You’ve been directed to heal the princess...”
I opened my mouth but he narrowed his gaze at me so I slammed it shut. I hated that everybody called me that. It wasn’t my fault Astra got herself hitched to a king. Princesses were pink and dainty and worthless. I didn’t want to be a princess. I wanted to be a kick-ass heroine who saved the world.
Good god, I was an idiot. The only thing I ever saved was my own ass. And lately I wasn’t even good at that.
Astis shrugged, sending her waist-length blonde hair into silky ripples that danced against her impossibly slim waist. “I am done evaluating the Prin...”
“Just spit it out,” I muttered angrily. “Can you fix me?”
Astis turned her heart shaped face in my direction. Her eyes were a clear, beautiful blue and her features were delicate. She looked like an angel whose only flaw was a tiny overbite. But rather than detract from her impossible beauty, the flaw somehow made her even more appealing. “I’d heard about your prickly temperament, Princess Darma. I see the rumors weren’t an exaggeration.”
Slayer coughed suspiciously. I narrowed my gaze at him as he coughed again behind his fist, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
“Shut up, Slayer.”
He allowed a grin to escape. “Rumors are hurtful things.”
I gritted my teeth, determined not to feed the rumor mills by shrieking at him like a fish-demon wife. “Can we get this over with please? I want some peace and quiet.”
The air behind Astis glittered and Astra and Dialle shimmered into the room. The expression of disgust Astra threw in the witch’s direction made me feel better. Apparently I wasn’t the only one in the room who wanted to feed the woman to the gargoyles.
Dialle gave me a smile. “Your color is better.”
“That’s because she’s trying to keep from throttling me in front of the witch,” Slayer said on a laugh.
I ignored him, realizing that nothing I said or did would keep him from being an ass. I’d get my revenge later. When I was on my feet again and he least expected it. The thought made me smile. “Maybe I could throttle Slayer until I heal,” I offered hopefully.
The men chuckled. Astra seemed to be considering it.
“Kidding, Astra.”
“No,” she lifted a small finger. “The idea has merit.”
Slayer shook his head.
Dialle took Astra’s hand and kissed the tip of the finger. “We spoke to Torre. He told us what he thinks happened.”
I inclined my head, panic setting in. “Did he give you a fix?” Please God he didn’t tell them what he’d told me...
Astra shook her head. “We told him we were certain Astis could heal you.”
“That’s unfortunate,” the witch said happily. “Because I cannot.”
The room fell into shocked silence. The temperature in the room rose to suffocating levels and Astra’s aura turned from silver to charcoal gray. When she took a step toward Astis, Dialle grabbed her hand. “Clarify, witch or I’ll send you to the fairy mound for pleasuring,” the king threatened softly.
While that didn’t sound particularly terrifying, the threat seemed to work on Astis. Her smile fell away and she turned a hostile gaze on me. “She has a corrupted mating mark. It is slowly poisoning her to death.”
“Holy fried pixies,” Astra muttered. She turned an accusatory look to me. “I can’t believe you let him mark you in the first place. His magic’s not nearly powerful enough to overcome yours.”
“How in Hades would I know that, Astra?” I glared right back at her, neither of us willing to give in to the other.
Slayer finally cleared his throat, distracting us. “You can’t fix
that
?” he asked the Supreme High Witch.
Astis shook her head, clearly happy with her inability. “There are only two ways to fix a corrupted mating mark.”
I panicked. There was no way I could let her tell them what Torre had told me. “I don’t...!” I stopped as her words sunk in. “Two ways?”
“Yes. The Prince can either recreate the mark, strengthening it so it will work this time...”
“Absolutely not!” Slayer and Astra said at the same time.
Though he seemed less certain than the others, Dialle agreed. “A second failure would be too dangerous.”
“Or you can take her to the necromancer,” Astis continued.
I really didn’t like the sound of that. But it was an option I hadn’t known I’d had so the least I could do was pursue it. “What necromancer? How can he or she help?”
“She’d never survive the journey,” Dialle said, frowning.
“I don’t know anything about this necromancer,” Astra said, “But it sounds dangerous.”
“She rules the dead in the frozen environs,” Dialle explained. “Her kingdom consists of a narrow band of land, mostly mountainous, that is adjacent to the Hell dimension. It’s very difficult to reach her lair and, once there, it’s even more difficult to negotiate with her.”
“Why?” I asked.
“She is the most evil creature in the dark world. She cares for nothing or no one except herself and her ghouls. To get her to help we’ll have to promise her something she values highly.”
“What does she value?”
“Pain and sorrow,” Slayer said.
I looked at Slayer, wondering why it sounded like he spoke from experience. What I saw on his face scared the crap out of me. He was pale, his gaze bright and his jaw taut. He looked terrified. I made my tone as gentle as I could. “Slayer?”
He blinked, glanced up, and shook his head. “I can’t...” he swallowed hard. Turning to Dialle he cleared his throat and tried again. “I can’t support that, Dialle. As an option it’s more dangerous than the mark.”
Astra had her gaze fixed on Slayer and she looked alarmed by his reaction. “As I said, I don’t know anything about this necromancer, but judging by Slayer’s reaction I vote no.”
“You want the Prince to mark her again?” the witch asked with a half-smile.
“Of course not!” my sister responded.
The witch shrugged, letting her meaning hang unspoken between us.
When I couldn’t stand it anymore I broke the silence. “I’ll go to the necromancer.”
“Darma, no...”
I held up a hand to stop Slayer. “I’ve made my decision. It’s either that or die. I refuse to let Torre mark me again.”
Slayer looked at Astra. “Talk some sense into her.”
Astra frowned thoughtfully. “Can you make her stronger?” She asked the witch. “So she can travel to the frozen environs?”
“Frunk me!” Slayer bellowed.
“It’s what she wants, Slayer. She’s capable of making her own decisions.”
“Normally, yes. But she’s weak and delirious,” he objected.
“Stop talking, Slayer!” I commanded with impressive force. Unfortunately the effect was ruined when I succumbed to a coughing fit. When I could breathe again without hacking, I told Astis, “Do what you can do to make me stronger. I want to leave as soon as possible.”
~SC~
After nearly being melted down into a feisty puddle in Hell, I never would have believed that I’d be longing for heat again. But navigating the epically frigid landscape of the frozen environs had driven any semblance of warmth from my body and, between shivering so hard my teeth were in danger of being fractured, and fighting to keep my fingers and toes from freezing solid and falling off, I decided a short vacation in the fiery pits might be in order.
The air was so cold it burned my lungs and turned the condensation from my nose to ice as soon as it left me. The landscape was a stark white as far as the eye could see, a constantly shifting silvery haze riding the air high above our heads. In the distance was a jagged range of daunting mountain tops, the snowy whiteness of their height only occasionally severed by a strip of brown that I assumed was bare earth. With fresh snow and ice falls every few minutes, I was amazed that any part of the place could remain clear of the icy mix.
Nothing grew in the desolate tundra. Nothing moved. But more than anything else, it was the silence that bothered me. A silence so deep that every breath we breathed seemed to roar through our lungs and then die when it hit the air. The weight of the cold stifled sound beneath it, freezing it to death.
We moved in a long line through the rough terrain, keeping several feet of space between us in case the icy ground fell out from under us. Apparently that was a common experience and we were trying to minimize our losses if it happened. As far as I could see ahead and behind us were Dialle’s loyal guard, their wide, red faces tense. Nurturing their own, Hellish internal heat, the soldiers’ heavy devil bodies were only lightly covered against the cold. At the very front of the winding snake was Astra and her king.
Slayer trudged along beside me on the glass-like surface of the valley, his weight fracturing the silvery stuff in pretty webs that spread outward and stopped in a nearly perfect oval. He hadn’t left my side since we’d traveled through the portal into the Necromancer’s kingdom. I’d been gritting my teeth for hours, trying to keep from yelling at him as he continually threw worried glances my way. He was constantly grabbing my elbow, trying to help me over ragged ice flows, or asking me if I was all right.
I knew he was worried about me and that was sweet. I was worried about me too. But I felt as if I’d been beaten from head to toe with a dragon spike and I was fighting hard not to show it. Any weakness, however small, would bring him down on me like stink in a gargoyle nest. And I was tired of having to put on a happy front.
From the corner of my eye I saw Slayer turn his head and open his mouth. I lost it. “Stop talking! I’m fine.”
His lips slammed shut and one eyebrow peaked. “I’m glad to see your temper is still intact.”
I threw him a glower. “I’m tired of people asking me how I am.”
“I’m sensing that.” He grinned. “But I was just going to ask if you wanted one of these.” He held up a nutrition bar. He’d instructed all of us before we left that we needed to eat almost continuously in the frozen environs or the cold would quickly consume what energy we had and kill us.