bedeviled & beyond 05 - bedeviled & besmirched

by Sam Cheever

  ~SC~

  The sound of wings pounding the air disturbed my pain drenched sleep. A soft breeze sent my hair flying around my face and the sweet sound of an angelic choir surrounded me. I tossed and turned, sensing turmoil beyond the thin veil of my rest. Gentle hands touched my forehead and strong arms wrapped me in warmth. I was aware of a shift in my surroundings.

  I came partially awake, though I was drenched in fever. Voices spun through my mind. They were far away and faint, but came to me with varying degrees of intensity.

  Deep, worried voices, high-pitched frantic voices, and a single calm, soothing tone that overrode all the others.

  Along with the voices came the hands. Their touch was gentle, careful with my battered form. But despite their gentleness, pain blossomed through me like an ancient nuclear bomb, ripping at my insides and pulling against the bloody fissures in my broken limbs.

  I cried out, screaming to be left alone. But the hands still pulled at me, twisted me, and rolled me to and fro. There was no rest from the pain. It formed the core of my awareness, serving as a focal point for my helpless rage.

  Soon I flailed out at them, but the hands halted my feeble attempts and still moved over me. I fought to close them out and ignore the voices, which had gained a pleading tone.

  I was gone. Beyond help and past hope. I just wanted to die.

  Finally the shadows of unconsciousness folded fully over me again and the hands and voices went away.

  I sighed in relief.

  That was when the dreams started. Nightmares really.

  The first one had my aunt Myra and my sister Darma in it, the pairing alone a nightmare that most couldn’t endure. They floated in the air a few feet away and glared at me, disapproval painting the air between us in vibrant hues.

  Myra cocked her head. You look like hell. You might want to put some lipstick on or brush your hair before Dialle gets here.

  I panicked. No! I don’t want to see him!

  Too bad. He wants to see you.

  I shook my head. Just let me die. I’m worthless now.

  Darma put her hands on her hips and made a disgusted noise with her lips. Astra, stop being such a baby and fight.

  I’m not being a baby. I have no magic. I can’t heal myself.

  I can heal you. If you’ll let me. Darma’s words hardly matched her tone, which would have been more suitable if she’d said, I’m going to beat the bat-snot out of you.

  I tried ignoring her, hoping she’d go away.

  Astra, this can be fixed.

  I looked at my aunt and saw the sadness in her eyes that belied her words. Just go away, auntie and leave me alone.

  Like magic, they were swept away and I was left in darkness for a while. I tried to rest but, alas, it wasn’t to be. In the dream, the air in my room shifted and I opened my eyes again, ready to yell at whoever was there. It was Emo. He stood a few feet away, tall and slim with shiny, black hair that drifted around a strong jaw and full, kissable lips.

  I’d missed him so much, I didn’t have the heart to yell at him. I smiled. Hey, partner.

  Emo’s handsome, golden face was stern. His pretty black eyes were filled with rage and touched with angry, red sparks. He strode to my bedside and touched my hand, the touch filled with incredible heat. It was so hot it should have burned, but I suddenly realized I’d been frigid and shivering before he’d come, and when he touched me I started to warm.

  I snuggled closer, inhaling his familiar scent. The first, tiny bite of regret found me. Emo would love me even without my magic. Maybe I should try harder. I’m glad you’re here.

  Emo climbed into the bed with me and draped himself along my side. I’ve been ranting and raging ever since I discovered you’d gone missing. Somebody should have been watching over you, Astra. It’s inexcusable!

  His heartbeat pounded angrily against my ear. I didn’t care that he was angry, his hands on my body were gentle, soothing.

  As soon as you’re okay I’m going after Flick...and then Myra...I’ll kill them both for what they’ve done to you.

  And that was when I remembered he was in angelic therapy for anger management issues.

  I shushed him like a child. He stiffened slightly but stopped his angry rant. It’s all right. I shouldn’t have gone with Crisanne. It was my fault, Emo. I was w— I cleared my throat and tried again. I was wro—

  No, Astra! Someone should have been with you. I should have been with you!

  I shook my head, knowing better. Dialle should have been with me. But he hadn’t been. Because I’d become an obligation to him. A way to keep his court healthy. And I could no longer even do that.

  With an audible pop, Emo disappeared from my dream. Darkness fell again but I knew it wouldn’t last so I waited, restless. Finally a single circle of bright, white light appeared across the room, like a spotlight in an ancient, human stage show. A few beats of my heart later, Dialle walked into the light. He stood with his long, leather-clad legs set apart, his arms crossed over a bare, golden chest, and one dark eyebrow lifted as he looked at me.

  I’d expected solicitousness. I’d hoped for love. What I got was stern appraisal.

  I stared back at him for a long moment and then he lifted a hand toward me, twitching two of his perfect fingers in my direction. Come, Astra. We have work to do. We must kill Crisanne. I have no desire to mate with her. But I will if you do not come back to me. I’ll have no choice.

  I realized I was probably seeing everybody as I perceived them. The real Dialle would probably have been softer, even if it were an act. He was the ultimate politician and my welfare became intricately tied to court politics when I mated with him. But his words managed to do what no one else could. Not even my own ego could push me to life again.

  But the thought of Dialle sharing Crisanne’s bed as king and queen was enough to shove a stick up my spine and bring my temper back. In my dream I sat up and climbed out of that bed, walking carefully toward Dialle as my bones knitted and my body healed. In my dream I clasped his hand and smiled at him. In my dream I returned to his side, ready to kick me some Crisanne ass.

  But the dream had to end sometime. And when it did, cranky was a soft cousin to what I felt. And only the strong survived my healing process.

  Everybody else ran for the hills.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Take Me Back to Oz!

  Is young miss an empty shell, her body bent and weak?

  Or will she shake the misery off, again embrace her cheek?

  It had been two weeks since I opened my eyes in Dialle’s bed. My body was broken, my spirit badly dented and my good nature obliterated. Though Dialle spared no resources getting my body healed, the non-physical parts of my being were beyond his scope. Crisanne had taken everything from me. She’d taken my future, my dreams and my sense of self, all in one magic-draining swoop.

  I lay on my back most of the day, staring at the cracks that had started to spider their way through the walls and ceilings of Dialle’s once-beautiful Court. With the loss of my magic and mental health, everything around me was losing its shine. Everything looked just the slightest bit more tattered than before. Tempers flared more easily. And plots ran rampant through the Court.

  Dialle was fighting for his throne every moment of every day. For his life, on a daily basis.

  The only positive development was that nobody tried to kill me anymore.

  Crisanne probably thought I was dead. I learned later that she’d abandoned me in that magic-free prison, apparently expecting me to just fizzle away to nothing. The angels who’d found me searched Nille’s court and had found no one. Crisanne had disappeared again.

  The Puka King and his lover still hadn’t been found.

  I’d heard Dialle and Myra speculating when they thought I was in a depression induced sleep, that Crisanne had carried them into the Shadows.

  I shivered when I thought of the Shadows. I’d gone into them once, in search of Nille and Nerul, and I’d barely come ou
t of them alive. The magic in the Shadows was powerful, disorienting, and converse to what they should be. Surviving there took more force of will than I currently possessed.

  If the Pukas were there, I knew I wouldn’t be part of the group entering the Shadows to rescue them.

  The doors opened and Gerch plodded into the room, his heavy boots forming a recognizable whomp, whomp, whomp against the carpeted floor. Since my body had been healed, I’d thrown temper tantrums whenever anyone else came near me in a babysitting capacity. I’d given up trying to get the ever-loyal Gerch expelled. Despite the fact that Dialle had finally surrendered in a fit of temper and ordered Gerch away from my bedside, Gerch had risked his king’s ire and continued to visit me.

  Gerch seemed to have transferred some of the loyalty he felt for Dialle to me. I was touched by this newfound loyalty, despite my depression and extremely bad temper.

  He stopped beside my bed and I could feel him staring down at me. “I know you’re not asleep.”

  My traitorous eyelids quivered and I heard the clanking of his armor as he sat in his usual chair beside the bed. “Shall we start with the attempted assassinations this morning? Or would you like to hear of the search for the Pukas?”

  I sighed, opening my eyes to focus them on the ceiling. “Tell me about the Council. Will they still hold it?”

  “They will. Plans have turned to crowning King Dialle the Second. Unless the Puka King is found, King Dialle will be Sovereign.”

  Amidst rumor and speculation, no doubt. I chewed my lip. In spite of myself, I’d begun to look forward to Gerch’s daily reports. I was starting to become curious about my surroundings again. I figured that was a positive development. “No sign of the Pukas yet?”

  “Nay. The king readies a search party for the Shadows.”

  My gaze slid to the massive, red guard. “Are you in that party?”

  His black gaze held mine steadily. “I am.”

  Tears stung my eyes. “Dialle?”

  “Yes.” His gruff tone softened with pity when he saw my tears. It was the type of thing that would have pissed me off before I’d been destroyed. The fact that I couldn’t muster any anger made me hate myself even more. I sniffled, saying nothing.

  “We will find the Pukas and return safely, my queen.”

  It was a measure of my depression that I didn’t scold him for calling me his queen. I just stared at the ceiling and kept my silence. Fear ripped holes in my stomach as I imagined all the things that could go wrong in that search.

  “In my absence I’ve arranged a special guard for you.”

  I ignored him. I didn’t care who he’d picked to babysit me. Whoever it was, I’d run them off.

  Finally he stood and, though he watched me for a long moment before turning to go, he didn’t voice the thoughts apparently churning through his mind. As he headed toward the door my gaze slid to him. Despite my determination not to succumb, my mouth opened and I said his name.

  Gerch stopped abruptly and turned, his brow lifting where an eyebrow would have been, if he had them. “Yes, my queen?”

  “Take care of him.”

  Gerch inclined his head. “Of course.” He turned away.

  “And...”

  He turned back.

  “Take care of yourself too.”

  Gerch rarely smiled. But he smiled then, showing large, white teeth with slightly elongated canines. “Get well, my queen. We need you.”

  Tears slipped down my cheeks as he closed the door. It was a nice sentiment. But he was wrong. The last thing Dialle’s court needed was me. Without my magic I was just an albatross around Dialle’s neck. Though he would deny it if I told him so.

  I waited until I was certain Gerch wouldn’t be coming back, then I slipped the covers back and climbed out of bed. My legs wobbled slightly as I tried to stand, my muscles weakened from days of disuse. I looked down and realized I was wearing one of Dialle’s shirts. I bunched the soft fabric in my hand and pulled it to my nose, inhaling deeply to pull his scent into my lungs. Then, with tears stinging my eyes, I headed toward the pile of my clothes and belongings someone had placed carefully on a chair across the room.

  I stopped beside the chair and looked down. The clothes were clean again, despite the fact that they’d been covered in blood and gore when they’d last covered my body. Lying across the top of the pile were my platinum knives. I stared at them for a long moment, afraid to reach out and grasp them.

  I hadn’t even had a chance to use them when Crisanne had attacked me. They’d been useless. Like me.

  I reached for the longest knife, my fingers wrapping around its ebony hilt, and closed my eyes at its cool weight in my hand. It was fitting that I’d use the tools of my old life to put an end to the travesty that was my new one.

  I lifted the knife and rested the razor-sharp blade against my throat, taking a deep, bracing breath, and then tightened my fingers against the hilt, murmuring, “To Hades with you fool, for God hath tired of you.” I pressed the blade into my throat, gasping at the bright, sharp pain of it slicing into my flesh, and started to drag it across my skin.

  The air behind me pulsed and a large, golden hand wrapped around my wrist, stopping me. A muscular arm dragged me up hard against a broad chest, and a strange scent enfolded me. The heat of healing power flowed over and through me, taking away the sting at my throat.

  I sobbed at the frustration of being denied my heroic end and turned. My sobs quickly dying as I looked into a beautiful, square-jawed face with blue eyes, kiss-me lips, and a halo of thick, straight white-blond hair. “Who are you!”

  His smile brought the first wave of warmth to my belly since Crisanne had pulled away my magic. “Hello, Astra. My name’s Aubrey.”

  “He’s your new guardian.”

  I jerked around at the sound of my Aunt Myra’s voice and had a déjà vu moment. She and Darma were standing a few feet away, glaring at me. Just like in my dream.

  “I don’t need a new guardian.”

  There was general hilarity over this ridiculous statement and then I clarified. “I mean...I’m human now. Nobody’s gonna even look at me twice. I’m safe.”

  Aubrey frowned down at me. I noticed he hadn’t removed his large, very warm hands from my person yet so I stepped away, doing it for him. “Astra, until we know exactly what’s going on, I’m going to stay very close in case you need me.”

  “Aubrey’s one of our finest guardians. He has five stars and he’s won the Guardian games six years in a row.” Myra’s pretty blue eyes had a few stars of their own when she looked at him.

  And you want to make him your bitch. I added silently.

  Guardians were ranked according to their strength and power. Myra, my first guardian, was a five, Flick had been a three, because at that point I think the Big Him had given up trying to actually protect me and had given me Flick as kind of a weak deflection device. Unfortunately, Flick inexplicably discovered he was male after five hundred years of existing in kind of a gender non-specific fog, leaving me once again guardian-less.

  I’d been okay with that. Mostly my guardians had just created obligation and clutter in my life. But I realized I could have avoided my current predicament if I’d had one.

  “You’re not safe, Astra!” Darma added in her usual loving, screechified tones. “Don’t be so stupid.” Her glare deepened and she strode toward me, looking as if she would strike.

  Aubrey stepped between us and I peered around his broad shoulder to see Darma’s reaction.

  She stopped, her blue eyes lifting to my new guardian’s, and her mouth came open. “What are you doing?”

  “My job.”

  “But she’s my sister.”

  “And you are not allowed to strike her. She is in a weakened state.”

  Okay, now that just pissed me off. I stepped around Aubrey. “Look. All of you. I’m fine...”

  “Yeah,” Auntie agreed, nodding. “You looked just fine with that knife at your throat.”

&
nbsp; She had me there. “Okay, you’re right. I had a moment of stupidity...”

  Darma snorted. “A moment? That’s rich. Try twenty-five years.”

  Glaring at my older sister, I said to Aubrey. “Here’s the deal. I’ll concede that I should have been better about not ditching my guardians...”

  Myra lifted a finely sculpted, golden eyebrow. I figure she’d have killed to have me admit that a couple of years earlier, when she’d been my guardian.

  “But I’ve learned my lesson. Albeit too late.” I sighed. “You can protect me until we know for sure that my powers are gone.”

  “I will protect you until I am told otherwise.”

  I glared up at him and he stared down at me, impassive, immovable, like a really good-looking rock wall. In that moment I realized he would be harder to manage than Flick. He might even be harder to manage than Myra.

  “You’re wasting your time. I can feel that my magic is gone.”

  Aubrey’s face softened and he reached a finger to touch my jawline. “Do you actually believe that your only worth is in your magic, Astra?”

  The question was spoken so softly, with such feeling behind it, that it brought tears to my eyes. I blinked them away and sniffed. As of that moment I was done with sniffling. I was going to save Dialle from Crisanne. After that...I didn’t know.

  But I knew I was done sitting on my ass feeling sorry for myself.

  I looked at Darma. “Get Slayer, and anybody else you can round up. Meet me at my office.”

  Her blue eyes widened in surprise, but she smiled. “Why?”

  “We’re going after that black-haired bitch. If Dialle can’t have me at his side, we’ll find him somebody suitable. But I’m not letting him get saddled with that evil troll.”

  Darma nodded and disappeared with a pop. I blinked in surprise. Apparently my previously magic-phobic sister was getting better with her magics.

  “I’m coming with you.” Myra took a step closer, frowning as if she thought I’d refuse her.

  She had no reason to be concerned. For once I was happy to have her along. “Thanks, Auntie.” I lifted an arm and looked at Aubrey. “Shift us to my office, please. I need to recruit a couple of werewolves to help us.”