by Sam Cheever
“He wasn’t?”
Dialle stood up and went to stand in front of the wall of windows. I couldn’t see his face but I read in the set of his shoulders and the rigidity of his body that he was uncomfortable about something. “To tell you the truth, Astra, I’m not sure.” He turned toward me then and I saw something flicker across his midnight black gaze that made me uncomfortable.
“How can that be?”
He had turned away again. “The great texts actually prophesied two powerful devils. One was expected to be the great unifier, the other, sort of an anti-prophet whose task would be to stop what had been prophesied from happening.”
“If that’s true how is it possible that we vanquished Nille so easily?”
He turned to me then, his eyes pulsing with the uncertainty and despair that I’d only glimpsed earlier, “Did we?” he asked.
“Oh shit!”
He nodded. “Yes, Astra. Oh shit.” He thought about that for a while and then turned back to me. “Anyway. When Nille disappeared I encouraged my father to enlist your help. I had, of course, heard of you…”
“Of course.” We grinned at each other.
“As you might expect, Rayanne was against it. But once my father made up his mind Rayanne could not stop me from bringing you here. I think you know the rest of it.”
My raised eyebrows were all the answer I believed he needed.
Dialle kept my gaze for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his gorgeous face and then was suddenly standing over me. He lowered a hand to me. “Shall we go now, my Princess?”
I stood up and scowled at him. “Don’t call me that.”
“Why not, my Princess?”
“Because I said.”
We moved toward the door, me looking grumpy and him looking amused.
“But I care not what you say, little Princess. I am your Prince.”
“Kiss my ass.”
He pulled open the door and nodded to Gerch, who proceeded to lead the way toward Dialle the First and the next episode in the hell that is my life.
“It would be my pleasure to kiss your ass, my Princess.”
Gerch’s shoulders tensed when I growled low in my throat but, to his credit, he didn’t turn around.
“I swear, Dialle, you’re lucky I’m outnumbered.”
Dialle grinned at me, the tip of his hot, red tongue waggling suggestively. “I think I could best you, my Princess.”
“Oh, you’ll get a chance to try.”
If my feet hit the floor a little harder than was exactly necessary I think you’ll understand. Such is the frustration and complexity of my life. Sigh. Oh well. At least I still had my health. At least until after my audience with the King of the Devils. Where I’m sure I’ll piss somebody off and have to be saved again.
Stay tuned. I promise it will be interesting.
About the Author
Sam Cheever writes about feisty, fun characters who move quickly from one disaster to another in a world that is filled with unique problems and the constant threat of disaster. Sam's characters meet these threats and challenges with humor, bravado, and a realistic mix of human (and non-human!) frailty and good old-fashioned belligerence. A long-time writer of fiction, non-fiction, and poetry, Sam has found her stride with ‘Tween Heaven and Hell. Her fantasy world is brimming with hot devils, cool angels, sexy dilemmas, and dangerous situations.
To pay the bills, Sam started her writing career as a freelance writer and has worked as a business writing consultant for medium and large organizations for over ten years. However, she is much more comfortable in her fantasy world, and plans to stay there as long as the medication holds out.
Sam welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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