bedeviled & beyond 02 - bedeviled & bedazzled (20 page)

“Are you getting anything?” Myra asked.

“There’s something here.” I replied. I upped the power on my sensing aura and scanned the room with it. There was the usual violent tension, like a low level thrum throughout the cavernous space, and here or there the violence spiked a bit, telling me there had been a battle before Demonica had gone down, literally, in flames.

But as my power reached one of the back corners it gave an enormous spike that caused me to jump. I recognized the aura it sensed there. My heart sped up and I felt the blood draining from my face. “Holy shit!”

“What is it, Astra?”

I turned to my angel and she scowled at the look on my face. “The superdemon. He was here. I didn’t vanquish him after all.”

~SC~

The online news that morning was filled with angry stories about the fire at Demonica. Driven by hard or bad news rather than any particular value system, the press was inherently fond of all of the Demon nightclubs, even if they weren’t recognized as Demon run establishments, because they were the most edgy and dangerous nightclubs in the city. Thus they produced the most news on any given night, mostly bad. And since the destruction of one of the largest, most popular and most trouble strewn Demon establishments made the press angry, they were naturally looking for someone to blame.

Apparently, certain “unnamed” sources had given them just that.

Breaking a decades long practice, reinforced by regular threats from the police, of not speaking openly about the fact that dark worlders walked among us, one particular member of the press wrote a story in that morning’s online news that prompted a decidedly over the top headline.

The headline read, “The Devil Forks up Some Demon”.

The story beneath this tasteless banner was no better than its introduction.

Smelling like take-out and looking like a victim of the Great Wars, the Demon-run establishment Demonica was burned to the ground last night by a sect of royal devils led by King Dialle the First. According to very reliable sources within the Demon ranks, the nightclub’s destruction was only the latest salvo in a war initiated by the royals to keep the Demon population under tight control.

In recent weeks the royals have also kidnapped several humans from Demonica and killed a few of them in an effort to put pressure on King Alcott, who up until last night had his home and offices in the basement of Demonica, to give up his bid for freedom and continue to play a reluctant Igor to King Dialle’s Frankenstein.

All efforts to retrieve the remaining hostages have been futile. The Strange Deaths Department of the Police seems to have run out of ideas for locating them.

King Alcott told the Angel City Bugler that he wishes to break free from the royals so that he can do more to help the community. He references his nightclubs as proof of this desire.

“I provide jobs and entertainment for hundreds of people in Angel City,” says Alcott. “I’d like to do more but I can’t unless I break with the devils.”

Whether you believe the demons or not, it seems that the royals have chosen to put the human race in the middle of a war between them. We can only hope the Paranormal Cops are returning the favor.

“What a bunch of flaming bullshit!” I murmured as I read the page on my information unit. “Igor to Dialle’s Frankenstein? What does that even mean?” I did a quick search on my information unit and saw the ancient human movie and book the comment was based on. “That’s just silly!” I concluded from my research.

Sighing, I realized the war had been well and truly engaged and the current situation unfortunately did have one thing in common with Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. The ending had already been written. But apparently I was the only one who’d read it.

~SC~

Later that day, I was on my way to face off with the Supreme High Witch of the Angel City coven in the Viper. My stat board told me I was only moments away from the hundred acre wildlife preserve where the coven had its headquarters. Not for the first time I wondered how the witches had managed to gain the rights to build in that area. I decided they must have friends in high places and made a mental note to ask Raoul about it the next time I saw him.

The air in the Viper changed and I turned to find my Dialle sitting in the soft leather seat beside me.

He smiled and my traitorous heart went pitter patter.

“Dialle.”

“Astra. You’re looking particularly yummy today.”

I grinned. I couldn’t help it. “Aren’t you just the consummate suck up?”

He arched a perfectly shaped, black eyebrow and turned to face me.
I’m perfectly willing to instigate sucking up again with you Astra. Our first foray into the activity proved extremely pleasurable.
His voice in my mind was pure, indecent invitation.

I shivered.

Heavily lashed blue eyes assessed my reaction, not missing the shiver of anticipation his words had created. That extremely sexy gaze seared me from above deftly sculpted cheekbones and a lush, sensual mouth that was perked upwards at the corners over an extremely masculine, squared off jaw.

Warmth pooled between my thighs.

I gulped and tried to look away. Forcing myself to stare at the stat board rather than my yummy passenger. I was so screwed when it came to Prince Dialle. Even if I managed to get my mind under control my body would always react to him. I knew then that, whatever I felt for Emo and despite the accusations he’d made against Dialle, I was going to pursue a relationship with my devil. And hopefully soon.

But in the meantime I had work to do.

In sheer desperation I pressed my legs together and went on offense. I turned back to him. “Nice work destroying Demonica, Dialle. I’m sure that will make things clearer for all involved.”

His grin widened. “I’m not sure that is the case, Astra but it was a lot of fun.”

Just then the Viper sounded an arrival tone to indicate that we’d reached our destination. I had to swallow a sharp retort and turn back to the controls so that I could guide us through the part of the preserve that was not on the computerized maps.

I dropped the Viper down into a vehicle alley that had been cleared through the dense blanket of trees. The alley led to the lone building in the preserve. As we lowered to within a few feet of the ground the light fell away from the day and night seemed to descend on us prematurely. I don’t think I’d realized until that point how dense the trees were in that preserve.

The only other time I’d been in the preserve I’d gone to the place where the witches performed their masses and the trees there, being on the edge of a meadow, hadn’t been quite as thickly layered.

We followed the alley for a few miles, dodging upward a couple of times to avoid colliding with some extremely large deer and one hungry looking blaven, a bearlike creature that walked upright and had claws the length of my hand. Rumor had it the blaven was the sasquatch of human legend.

When we finally came in sight of the witches’ coven headquarters I turned to Dialle. “Before we face off with the High Supreme Witch, I need to know where we stand. Does the destruction of Demonica mean that your father has formally declared war on the demons?”

Dialle snorted elegantly. “My father’s view is that the demons aren’t worthy of a formal declaration. Demonica was meant to be only a reminder to them that we could take them out any time we desire.”

“Well, since Alcott appears to have the human press on his side I’m not sure how affective taking out Demonica was. The news has been filled all day with how your father is trying to bully poor, misunderstood King Alcott. I think his action last night is going to have serious unintended consequences.”

Dialle didn’t respond.

I dropped the Viper into hover in front of the large, low-slung ranch type building that housed the Angel City coven. I gave my devil a look. “I think you’ve proven your point. Hopefully Alcott didn’t take your ‘reminder’ as an incentive to kill all the remaining hostages.”

Dialle shrugged, appearing not to care one way or the other. “That would be an unfortunate outcome of course but unavoidable in this case.”

I stared at him for a long moment. My interaction with the human fireman that morning popped into my head and I realized that I felt differently about the human victims of this situation than did the royals. In the royals’ view humans were little more than cattle to be used as necessary and protected only where it suited them.

A few human deaths would mean nothing to King Dialle and his court unless it caused them problems. I decided right then and there that I would have to make sure human deaths caused them problems.

“I’m sure the Angel Council would take a dim view of those humans dying unnecessarily, Dialle.”

Again he shrugged. “Then let us go speak to the woman who is responsible for the humans’ current predicament.”

I couldn’t very well argue with him on that point, since that was the reasoning that had brought me to the coven in the first place.

We exited the Viper and I sent it into the air and engaged security. I led the way toward the front door. The coven headquarters seemed deceptively serene and harmless. Very human. Despite the fact that I knew the power that resided behind those doors was an awesome thing and far from harmless.

As we reached the door it opened inward. At first I thought it was magically induced, then I saw the extremely large shape lurking behind the door in the dim light of the foyer.

“I am Astra Phelps. I’ve come to request an audience with the Supreme High Witch.”

The bulky shape behind the door motioned for us to enter. The door swung shut behind Dialle and the rotund woman who’d let us in stood silently, short stubby fingers clasped over her round belly. She peered expectantly at Dialle.

He gave a slight but formal bow and quirked those yummy lips upwards as he introduced himself. “Prince Dialle, madam witch. Dark Blessings.”

The woman’s perfectly round face slid slowly into a lecherous grin that made my skin crawl. She returned Dialle’s nod in a slightly negligent way that made me mad. As next in line for the royal devil throne, Dialle deserved more respect from a mere witch. Her attitude told me volumes about the coven’s current mood.

“Welcome Astra Phelps and Prince Dialle. If you will follow me. The Supreme High Witch has been expecting you.”

The rotund witch ambled ungracefully down a long, dimly lit hallway, her stout, sensible shoes clicking sharply on the highly polished dark wood floors. I slid a glance to Dialle and he met it with a dark, unreadable expression. He hadn’t let the witch know in look or manner that her insolence had affected him one way or the other. But the look he gave me showed just what he thought of it.

I shivered slightly. I hoped the coven knew what it was doing. Going up against the court of Dialle the First was stupidity at its finest. However, I doubted the witches, at least the coven members, knew the full extent of their overreach. I suspected the Supreme High Witch, whoever she was, was aware of the danger and would probably lie low until her purposes had been attained, leaving her minions to bear the brunt of the king’s anger.

We were shown into a large room that looked like a combination library and greenhouse. The long wall directly across from the door where we entered sported an enormous fireplace, built of sparkling white Angel City limestone. Despite the relative warmth of the early evening outside, a raging fire crackled and snapped in the depths of the enormous fireplace.

To the left, a wall of windows bowed out over a short expanse of bright green lawn and hovered over an exorbitant mixture of herbs and flowers. I recognized many of the plants as being useful for witch’s brews and magical incantations. The coven was growing Iris for communication, Coneflower for strength and protection, Fern for invisibility and Foxglove for protection and poisonous purposes.

The witch who’d shown us into the room gave us a small nod and left, her wide posterior swinging rather haughtily toward the door.

Dialle’s attention was focused toward the farthest end of the room, where the sun from the greenhouse windows couldn’t reach. A tall shape stood among the shadows there.

Before the shadowed form or I could speak Dialle said. “We were expecting the Supreme High Witch.” His tone was decidedly heated and the temperature in the room rose accordingly.

The figure in the shadows stepped forward and I sucked in a surprised breath. 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 grey 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 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 right back at him. The air changed subtly and I focused my energy on searching for signs of magic, finding nothing. What I was feeling was pure, old fashioned instinct, beating me about the head and shoulders.

The stare-off continued for an uncomfortably long time. Long enough to annoy me, which, I’ll admit, isn’t all that hard to do. 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. The woman was not at all what she seemed. “I am the second in command, Mx. Phelps. I assure you I am up to the task.”

Her tone held 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.”