devil 02 - tween a devil and his hard place

by Sam Cheever

  I looked at Dialle but he was looking toward the furthest end of the room, where the sun from the greenhouse windows couldn’t reach. A tall shape stood among the shadows there.

  Before the shape or I could speak Dialle said, “We were expecting the Supreme High Witch.” His voice held anger and the temperature in the room rose slightly.

  The figure in the shadows stepped forward and I nearly gasped. She was beautiful in a nearly angelic way. Her soft golden-white hair flowed down her shoulders and arms and touched her tiny waist in shiny waves. Her form, under the long, silky robes, was slight, with just the softest rounding at the breast and hips. Her face was heart-shaped, with finely made features. Large gray eyes with dusky gold lashes swept her peach-tinted cheeks when she lowered her gaze and gave Dialle a proper bow of respect. Then, standing upright again, she smiled at us and her only physical imperfection was revealed. She had just the tiniest overbite on her small white teeth, making her look, if possible, even more beautiful because it made her real.

  “I apologize, Prince Dialle. The Supreme High Witch truly wanted to be here. But she has been unavoidably detained.”

  My devil stared at the angelic-looking specimen before us and she stared back at him. I started to feel a change in the air and squinted to check for signs of magic in the room. I saw nothing. What I was feeling was pure, old-fashioned instinct, beating me about the head and shoulders.

  They stared at each other, not speaking, for several moments.

  Uh, hello? Anyone see the little Tweener with the long auburn hair and a really kickass pair of new, brown leather boots on?

  Finally I cleared my throat and spoke. “And you would be?”

  The woman finally turned to me. “I’m so sorry. My name is Astis. I am the Supreme High Commander of the Angel City Coven.”

  I grinned. “Commander?”

  Her lips joined me in my smile but something in the eyes warned me. This one was not at all what she seemed. “I am the second-in-command, Mx. Phelps. I assure you I am up to the task.”

  This last was said with just the tiniest bit of aggression. I supposed that, like me, people were always underestimating her because of her looks. Too small to kick ass. Too pretty to kick ass. Same general principle.

  I nodded slightly in acquiescence. “I have no doubt of that, Astis. I meant no disrespect. The title is just very warlike and you aren’t.”

  She chuckled at that and it was a lovely sound. “You of all creatures should understand, Mx. Phelps. Do not let appearances deceive.”

  Dialle shivered slightly at the sound of her laugh and my gaze jerked to him. He still stared at her as if bespelled.

  My heart jerked in my chest. Holy shit he was bespelled!

  I touched his arm and he jerked, turning toward me. Dialle, snap out of it!

  My voice in his head seemed to wake him from his dazed state. He scowled at me and gave a terse, yes, in my mind. Then he turned to the woman and his arm shot out before I could stop him. She flew across the room, her large gray eyes round with surprise.

  Her lithe, agile body hit the wall behind her with a painful-sounding thunk and she hung there, like a bug pinned to a board.

  Then, amazingly she smiled.

  Dialle stalked toward her, the temperature in the room rising dramatically with every step. He touched her chest with one finger and she cried out, writhing against her invisible bonds.

  Her gown started to smoke, tiny flames erupting at the hem.

  I ran to him and grabbed his arm but he shrugged me off. “Stay out of this Astra. This one needs to learn her place.”

  I raised my hands and stepped back. Conceding him his right to address her lack of respect. “Just don’t kill her please. I still need to talk to her.”

  He stared hard at the writhing witch for several beats and then gave me a curt nod.

  Dialle’s finger moved and the woman screamed. It was a horrible scream, filled with exquisite pain and tinged with fear. She screamed for a full minute and then stopped as Dialle removed his finger from her heaving chest. She hung there panting, her eyes closed and her body still writhing in the aftermath.

  People were pounding on the door and calling out for Astis but they didn’t seem able to get in. I figured Dialle had locked it magically and they weren’t getting into that room until he wanted them to.

  Dialle leaned close to her and spoke into her ear. I couldn’t hear him at first but then I pulled my power forward and used it to enhance my hearing. He said, “Do not ever presume again to try and bespell me witch. You are the merest worm beneath my feet. I will squash you into jelly if you touch me psychically again. Is that clear?”

  The witch shivered and when she finally opened the gray eyes they were filled with lust rather than fear. As I watched she ran the tip of a pink tongue across her dry lips in a very suggestive manner. Dialle scowled and gave her chest another jolt. This time I recognized the writhing for what it was, sexual heat, rather than pain. The woman apparently got off on pain.

  Go figure.

  Dialle seemed to realize that at the same moment I did and stepped away from her. It was useless to try to punish a pain addict with pain. As he walked back to me the woman’s body suddenly dropped from the wall and she hit the floor with a jarring finality.

  Just like that we were in a different place, surrounded by soft music and gentle things.

  The witch looked around in horror.

  The ground she lay on was soft and fluffy. Cloudlike in its substance. The air around us was a deep, almost purple blue and filled with soft, calming music. In the distance I could see rolling hills of green and softly waving trees. The place was like a hologram of a real place, nearly real but not completely.

  Small, pastel colored creatures with long, shimmering wings fluttered around the horrified witch, throwing flower petals at her head. The largest of these was only about eight inches long from head to feet. He seemed to be in charge. He fluttered to Dialle and bowed in midair. “My Prince, how may we serve?”

  Dialle nodded to the witch, who had begun to scream in true horror now that the tiny creatures had alighted all over her body and had begun licking and caressing her. “The witch has greatly displeased me. She thrives on pain. I believe your methods will serve me better.”

  The King of the Fairies nodded, his tiny head jerking downward with a military air. “It will be our pleasure to serve, your Highness.”

  With that the fairies descended on the woman, covering her completely. The screams coming from under the mound of shimmering creatures were horrible, ear-piercing.

  I looked at Dialle. His face was like rock as he watched the fairies work. “What are they doing to her?”

  He finally turned to me. “Giving her pleasure without pain. Her worst nightmare.”

  I stared at him for several beats. “It can’t really be that simple can it?”

  He grinned, for the first time since we’d entered the Angel City coven he seemed to relax. “Yes, my princess, it can.”

  Then he grabbed me, his lips descending on my own and consuming my quickly exhaled breath. I felt the kiss down to my toes and quickly allowed myself to get sucked under by it.

  My heart picked up and the knots in my stomach started to unclench as a deep, liquid heat poured through me. I pressed myself as tightly against his long, hard body as I could get.

  He reached between our bodies and caressed the juncture of my pleasure, causing me to arch upward and cry out in delight.

  The first flutter hit my cheek and I felt a soft tongue against my forehead. A second gentle flutter touched my neck. As the fairies descended on us the sound of their wings throbbed a sexual rhythm against our frantic bodies, increasing the tempo of our need to nearly violent levels.

  They fluttered around us, their wings creating a gentle symphony that fired our lust and created a small, private niche in that magical place.

  I didn’t realize how many fairies surrounded us until I felt my feet leaving the ground and
my body tilting backward. My back touched the soft, spongy surface of the ground and Dialle’s luscious weight and hard planes lowered into me, driving lust into my prone body at every touchpoint between us.

  In a blink my clothes were off and the gentle wings whirred and dipped to touch and lick my heated flesh. Dialle’s body ground against me with a near violent urgency and I cried out with frustrated lust. I tried to pull him into me but something was holding him back.

  Nearly screaming in frustration I looked up and saw the Fairy King whispering in Dialle’s ear.

  Suddenly Dialle shot away from me and I saw that he was being borne by hundreds of frantic fairies. He threw back his head and screamed in rage. The Fairies scurried away as fire filled the air around him, licking up his gloriously naked body and filling the air for twenty feet in every direction with a flesh-melting heat.

  I had just enough presence of mind to coat myself with protective power and then scoot away as far as I could get.

  Somewhere above the roaring sounds of the fire I could hear maniacal laughter and I turned to where we’d left the witch.

  She was standing amidst a small mound of dead Fairies, her arms outstretched and her eyes fixed on Dialle. Then she disappeared with a small pop.

  Dialle disappeared right after her.

  I suddenly found myself back in the Viper. Looking around I saw that the Viper still hovered in front of the coven headquarters. The place looked deserted but I doubted it really was.

  I sat back in the soft, welcoming leather of the Viper’s interior and let go of my power bubble, wondering if Dialle had gone after the witch or left under someone else’s steam.

  What the hell was going on in the coven that they had this much power to pull from?

  Why weren’t they worried about retribution?

  And how was I going to stop them if even the royals could be made to dance at their slightest whim?

  I headed home with a heavy heart. As if things weren’t complex enough, they just got immeasurably worse. And much more dangerous for all involved.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A Visit to the Big House

  Alas our lady’s angel comes and bids her do her best,

  Her visit to the Heavenly House, will put her to the test.

  I was just finishing up a last bit of paperwork in my office when Myra shimmered into the room, an agitated look on her angelic face.

  I looked up and frowned. “What now? Don’t tell me another hostage has been killed?”

  She flung out a dismissive hand and moved toward me with a very determined air. As she reached for me I drew back, pushing my chair away from my desk with such force that I banged against the wall behind me. Throwing myself to my feet I took a battle stance. “Step back, angel! You will not shimmer me any place until you tell me where I’m going and why.”

  Her customary scowl deepened and she squared off against me, placing perfectly manicured white hands on narrow hips. I was pretty sure there was an angrily tapping foot under her flowing gowns. “I was not going to shimmer you away against your will, Astra. Stop being so melodramatic. For the sake of Heaven, I need you to listen to me carefully.”

  I raised my eyebrows and softened my battle stance only slightly, knowing full well that my angel was totally capable of catapulting herself over the desk and transporting me out of there with a touch before I could yell, “damnable demon from the wrong side of the celestial tracks!”

  Or even something much more succinct like, “holy shit!”

  Myra started pacing. Watching her make wear lines across the tiles on the floor in front of my desk, I felt surprise sliding into place where before I’d felt only trepidation. Whatever it was must be really bad if it had Myra this riled up. I suddenly wished I could shimmer myself out of there. But spaceshifting scared the Hades out of me. The last time I’d tried it I’d ended up as a Siamese twin to a truly disgusting demon named Wormhead. Well, that probably wasn’t really her name but that’s what I called her because of the dozens of worm-like supra demons that wriggled and slithered around her head. Suffice it to say it was not a fun experience!

  Finally Myra stopped pacing and looked at me. “You have to promise me to be on your best behavior.”

  I blinked at her and said nothing. I mean…what could I say to that?

  “I mean it, Astra, this is the opportunity of a lifetime and I don’t want you to make me look bad.” She took up pacing again and her usual scowl had taken on new dimensions of intensity.

  “I don’t know what He wants. He almost never… But whatever it is, Astra, you must not use vulgarity, insults, or just plain bad manners in front of Him.” She stopped pacing again and turned to me. “My spot on the council could be at stake here. I’ve worked too long and much too hard to let you screw it up with a bad attitude and a smart mouth now, young lady.”

  Over my twenty-some years with my cranky guardian angel, I had become accustomed to a certain level of constant correction and threats. Most of the time I actually even deserved her censure. But this time I was totally at a loss. As far as I knew I’d done nothing to deserve this aggressive attack on my good nature.

  Well…probably almost nothing.

  She glared at me until I couldn’t take it anymore. “What? What have I done? What do you want from me? What are you trying to tell me, angel?”

  My scowl joined hers and took up arms. If we were gonna do facial battle I was more than up for it.

  I was engaged, in theatre, en guard.

  Even if I didn’t know what we were fighting about.

  She moved across the room until she stood just inches from me. Our scowls fenced quietly between us.

  Feint, jab, retreat.

  Myra twisted her lips as if she were loathe to say what needed to be said.

  Thrust, feint, jab, engage, repel, retreat.

  “He wants to see you. In the Big House.”

  My eyes widened and I lost focus.

  My angel slid in and took advantage. She touched my arm and immediately we entered that sphere where time, movement and sound stopped.

  Touché, Astra!

  Damnable angel.

  * * * * *

  The place we shimmered into was brightly lit, almost to the point of painful. The light was warm and smelled of spring meadows. It was like an extremely large room with sunlight as its ceiling.

  I looked around and realized I was alone. Apparently Myra wasn’t invited to join me and the Big Guy in our little chat.

  A shiver originated between my shoulder blades and ran down my body. Sweat sprang from my palms. I was going to meet Him!

  After a few minutes, when He didn’t appear, I started to calm down and began using the time to explore the place where I stood.

  It didn’t seem to have any walls, floor, or ceiling. Although the space was broken up into what looked like rooms with random gatherings of furniture, it was really just one, endless space, which hung formless around me.

  Movement caught my eye in the distance and I turned and squinted, seeing what looked like a very large televisual hanging in midair. Lacking any clear direction, I walked toward it.

  As I drew near, I realized it was the size of a large holo-movie screen and seemed to be showing random events in flashes and bits, only occasionally stopping on a single scene long enough for me to actually see what was going on.

  The images varied drastically from joyous, to sad, to violent, to pious, covering the full spectrum of human emotions and experiences.

  I watched a young mother hug a small child and wipe tears from the child’s eyes while telling her she needed to share her toys because it was the right thing to do.

  The image blurred and slid away and morphed into an older man, on his knees in what looked like a church, eyes closed and hands clasped earnestly in front of a stony face. The man’s thoughts came to me as if he were speaking, a jumble of insights and regrets that all culminated into a single thought, “Help me be a better person.”

  That
image slurred into a dark room, where a woman lay dying, her young family gathered around her sobbing. The image scanned to a young man in the furthest corner of the room, probably in his late teens, who had an angry, mutinous look on his tear-drenched face. I could hear his angry thoughts at losing his mother. He vowed never to go to church again, since his mother had been taken for no good reason and didn’t deserve to die.

  The image blurred away to show an alleyway, where a filthy, emaciated specimen with a large, deadly looking knife in his hand approached a lone woman, who was cowering against a large waste receptacle, begging the man to leave her alone. I watched the woman drop to her knees and close her eyes and suddenly her prayers for deliverance reached my ears. Amazingly, the sound of sirens split the air and the man, after taking one last look at the woman on the ground at his feet, turned and ran out of the filthy alley. Apparently she had earned her deliverance.

  Then the image became another dark place, a long hallway, with flickering lights dancing along the edges of it. I could hear music coming from somewhere. Two small people came into view from one side of the hallway and ran, giggling, toward me down the long hallway. They were holding hands and I realized they were probably about thirteen or fourteen years old. The boy stopped running suddenly and pushed the girl into an alcove. She giggled nervously as he grabbed her around the waist and pressed his lips to hers.

  They kissed clumsily for a couple of minutes and then the boy’s hand started traveling. As it hovered in the vicinity of the girl’s breast a disembodied voice said, “Suzie O’Connell, are you sure you want to do that?” The girl jumped, looked skyward, grinned mischievously and leaned to kiss the boy on the lips. Then she pushed the boy away and, with a final look upward took off running. The image slid away as she was running back the way she came, leaving the boy looking perplexed and disgusted.

  “Catholic school girls,” said a brightly lit shape as it moved into the room with me, “they keep me busy.” The form was vaguely man-shaped and moved as if it were human but seemed as undefined as the room in which I stood.

  It stopped a couple of feet away and glowed brightly as it faced me. I tried not to squint but it was like looking directly into sunlight.