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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Beset & Bewildered (BEDEVILED & BEYOND, #8)

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER ONE

  WHAT’S NEXT?

  About the Author

  Beset & Bewildered

  BEDEVILED & BEYOND, Volume 8

  Sam Cheever

  Published by Electric Prose Publications, 2016.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  BESET & BEWILDERED

  First edition. September 7, 2016.

  Copyright © 2016 Sam Cheever.

  ISBN: 978-1684193714

  Written by Sam Cheever.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Beset & Bewildered (BEDEVILED & BEYOND, #8)

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER ONE

  WHAT’S NEXT?

  About the Author

  ~SC~

  Discovery, passion and trickery...

  I used to be someone who was in control of her life. I was an adult. Responsible and mature. But then I took over the Angel Network, my sister’s demon quashing business, and my life just went to hell...literally!

  Part of the problem is, of course, my new partner, Slayer. He’s cocky and opinionated and just so...male. Forget that when he’s nearby my body just about melts with lust. Forget that it’s nearly impossible for us to work together. Forget that dealing with dark worlders on a daily basis is death to my better nature. I just want to prove to Astra that I can run her business as well or even better than she did.

  But I can’t catch a break.

  What are the chances that one of my first clients would be the Queen of the Hellhounds and that she would drag me to Hell, get me entangled with my dangerously unstable ex-boyfriend, or set me on a path that would nearly kill me a hundred ways to Sunday?

  There have to be easier ways to make a living than this.

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  PROLOGUE

  A New Sheriff in Town

  Only one thing will actually kill you,

  All that other stuff will just dent your armor.

  My name is Darma P Phelps and I know what you’re thinking. “Gawd! It’s that shrieking bitch who always tortures Astra!” First of all, stop listening to Astra. She totally misrepresents me. My intention is always to help. Not torture. And secondly, shrieking? Really! REALLY!! That’s so not true. Just because my sister can’t take any...and I mean...any criticism from me at all. Even when she’s totally out of control and flailing around like a Plutonian water viper on Martian meth...well...anyway.

  I have a story to tell. My story this time. Which means there will be a lot more class than you’re used to. Since you’ve spent time with Astra, you’re probably expecting a lot of kicking ass, blowing shit up, and praying action aren’t you? Well, I’m sorry to disappoint. But that’s just not how I roll. I believe in having more control over my life. As well as a certain level of dignity. And despite the ugly work I find myself engaged in...I intend to maintain that dignity at all costs.

  What ugly work, you ask? You didn’t know? When my annoying little sister Astra became Queen Astra, ruling the dark world alongside her sexy devil king, Dialle, certain things in her life had to change. One of those things was running the Angel Network. She can’t. Her friend and former partner Emo can’t, he’s taken a job working as a go-between with the dark world for the Celestial Army...something about saving his soul...so it’s up to me to do it. Well, me and the sexy Slayer.

  More on him later.

  While dear sis is refereeing territory battles between the dark fairies and the trolls, managing an entire dragon population across several continents and dimensions, and keeping sexy King Dialle on the straight and narrow...or the crooked and naughty...depending on which side of her very flexible personality is in charge at any given moment...I’m keeping the world safe from rogue demons, gargoyles and other dirty nasties.

  It’s ugly work, requiring way too much magic for my taste, but somebody has to do it and that somebody appears to be me. It was either that or let Slayer, a halfling with more charm than scruples and the sexiest round behind you’ve ever seen...erm...let him manage the monsters.

  That would be like handing a child to a ghoul and asking them to babysit. Slayer may be just about the hottest halfling I’ve ever met but his decision-making process when dealing with an adversary basically involves choosing between killing them fast or killing them slow.

  Which explains why he and my sister get along so well...

  The nuances of not killing them at all or taking them to the King and Queen of Hell on Earth for trial are left to someone with a finer sense of justice than my new partner.

  What do you mean, who’s that? It’s me of course. Yeesh! You’ve been hanging around Astra wayyyyy too long.

  Anyway...that’s a long way to go to basically say that there’s a new sheriff in town. Me. And the bad guys are lucky I’m here. Because if it was left up to the other halflings in my life, there’d be a lot of kicking ass, blowing shit up and praying and not so much gentle mastery of the arts of diplomacy and tact.

  So now that you know what you have ahead of you, I bet you’re really excited. Right?

  Right?

  Okay, whatever.

  I think you’ll be pleased with the elegance displayed by yours truly in the face of massive amounts of stress and challenge. Given your exposure to this world so far, you probably won’t know what to do with yourself. But that’s okay, I’m very good at helping others understand what needs to be done and how. Just ask my sister.

  Then stand back and watch her explode like a rocket to Venus.

  CHAPTER ONE

  The Hell That is my Life

  Hell’s cockroaches are big,

  It takes a lot of firepower to kill them.

  Martian philosopher, Akade Cchhairpt Bleurpt once said, “Never stretch your neck out unless you want your head chopped off.” I think he had a point. Especially as I found myself hiding behind an eight inch wide metal support beam, ducking sizzling hot power arrows in support of my business partner, Slayer. I realized in that moment that my metaphorical neck was sticking out like my sister Astra’s curly auburn hair on a humid day.

  I
mean waaaaaaayyyyyy out there.

  Darma?

  I sighed as Slayer’s sexy voice skittered through my nervous system. What?

  You said you were gonna vanquish this super demon twenty minutes ago. What’s taking so long?

  I reached for calm, utilizing my inside voice to purr a response. Are you kidding me? Have you seen this thing? He’s the size of a very large air vehicle and has horns! Horns, Slayer! When was the last time we saw a super demon with horns? The thing’s like a cockroach. I’ve thrown everything I have at him and he just keeps coming. I can’t believe you’re giving me grief right now!

  Okay, so maybe I didn’t purr so much as growl.

  Take a breath, beautiful. You know I’d help if I wasn’t totally pinned underneath this concrete wall.

  Wasn’t it just like a man to make excuses for why he couldn’t perform? Whoa, girl. I did not mean that the way it sounded in my mind. Even to me it sounded like I was talking about S-E-X. I wasn’t. I was pretty sure Slayer could perform in that area. At least he told me he could. He’d never engaged that particular performance with me.

  The beam I’d been hiding behind leapt off the ground on the end of a thick vein of energy and slammed into me, knocking all the air from my lungs. As the beam and I became airborne, my arms and legs wrapped around the thing like a stripper on a pole, I flew backward until I crashed into a wall. The impact sent concrete chunks flying in all directions. I tucked my head, still trying to suck air, and barely avoided being strafed by a chunk of debris that was as big as my hand.

  I’m thinking maybe we should call your sister.

  Good lord in Heaven, the man certainly knew how to drive a nail right into my last nerve. I’ll kill you myself if you so much as think her name.

  Don’t get your granny panties in a twist...

  I don’t need Astra. I’ve got this, Slayer. I’ve told you a hundred times. Why don’t you believe me?

  Um... Because I have a wall sitting on my chest?

  Shut up. I’m working on it.

  I finally managed to drag a full breath into my lungs and, though it sounded like a rusty nail being pulled from petrified wood, my chest filled with air and the bloom of nausea faded. I didn’t have long to enjoy the reprieve. A massive hand slammed down onto the beam a mere inch from my head. Going on pure adrenalin, I shoved myself upright and sprang off the twisted metal, negotiating a wobbly landing on the torn and concrete-tossed floor.

  The floor shook beneath my feet, the sound of massive footsteps reverberating through the battered underground space. I reached behind my back and pulled Seraphim from its sheath, slashing the long, slender blade across the demon’s forearm as he reached for me.

  The blade of my beloved sword was treated with Angel’s tears and sharpened with a chunk of brimstone from the lowest circle of Hell. The combination was one of my own making and it was like acid to normal demon flesh, dissolving it with a single touch.

  Unfortunately I wasn’t dealing with a normal demon. Though the super demon yelped in pain and yanked its hand back, the skin of its arm regenerated almost immediately.

  “Damn you super spawn!” With a scream of rage, I exploded forward, springing off the ground as the demon spun to attack, and landed on his thighs, driving Seraphim deep into his impossibly wide chest.

  He stilled, blinking down at me, and then stumbled back a couple of steps.

  I infused my grip on Seraphim with power to ensure I didn’t lose it. Aside from the fact that I didn’t want my beloved blade bouncing out of the place embedded in one of Hell’s biggest cockroaches, I knew that if he pulled the blade free he’d immediately start to heal. So I sent energy into my arms and, gritting my teeth, wrenched the blade sideways a few inches. Gristle and soft flesh gave way with a sizzling slurp and the demon threw back his massive, horned head on a howl of rage and pain.

  Darma.

  Not now, Slayer. I’m busy.

  I thought you should know...

  Not now! Gritting my teeth, I sent another bolt of energy down my arms and turned the blade another few inches.

  The demon stiffened, his wide, handsome face turning red and his sexy blue gaze glowing with rage. He wrapped his hands around my waist and tried to yank me free. I screamed, digging one hand into the flesh just above his shoulder blade. My power-infused fingers sank into his rock-hard flesh until I found bone. Then I wrapped my fingers around the bone and held on as I twisted Seraphim another inch.

  The demon howled again, his eyes spitting actual fire in my direction. I barely got an energy shield up in time to keep from being roasted, and then, as he gave me another tug that made my bones creak, I threw everything I had into Seraphim and ripped it through what was left of his heart.

  He shuddered once, his hands a crushing pressure around my waist, and then his eyes rolled back in his head and he slammed to the ground.

  The force of his fall did what his grip hadn’t been able to accomplish. I was propelled over his prostrate form and flew through the air to smack against a broken chunk of wall, sliding toward the ground with a pain-filled grunt.

  I lay there for a moment, taking stock of all my aches and breaks. Finding nothing life-threatening going on inside my battered body, I tried to shove to my feet, groaning loudly.

  A large, lightly-calloused hand appeared in front of me, an offer of help.

  I looked up into Slayer’s handsome face and laughing gold eyes. “That was an interesting vanquishing technique, Princess.”

  In support of my recent attempts toward anger management, I forced myself to count to ten. I used the time to consider my irritating but delicious partner. His wide mouth was spread in a grin, showing the most enticing pair of dimples. His teeth were white, the canines slightly enlarged like a Royal’s. His skin was a deep golden color and his hair was midnight black, cut very short, military style. The short hair emphasized a strong jaw and densely muscled neck. Dragging myself out of my Slayer-induced daze, I slapped his hand away. “Shut up! If you got yourself free why didn’t you help?”

  He shrugged, looking amused. “I tried to offer but you were too busy to listen.”

  I carefully stretched myself to my full height of five feet nine inches and tugged a blood-coated strand of blonde hair off my cheek. Slayer and I stood looking at the dead demon for a few minutes, while I sucked air like a dying fish demon on a Venutian beach.

  “You know he’s gonna revive as soon as you remove Seraphim, right?”

  I shook my head. “I’m not leaving her in his black heart.”

  Slayer grinned. “You have to, unless you want to kill him again.”

  Depression blossomed through me, followed by extreme weariness. I’d been battling the damn thing for hours, trying to make even the smallest dent in it that would stick. “How the hell do you kill these things?”

  “It’s all about the size of the pieces,” Slayer told me.

  I grimaced. “Pieces? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  He shrugged. “I wouldn’t joke about something like that.”

  “So, what? We need to blast it?”

  “Yup. You need to tap into that delicious reserve of power you’re so stingy with.”

  I barely kept from whining. “I don’t want to.”

  “But you must.”

  “Can’t you just do it?”

  “I could, but you could do it so much easier. Come on, Darma, pull up your granny panties and do your job.”

  I frowned, advancing on him with a stiff, bloody finger that I poked hard against his chest. Though he grinned down at me, he backed away from my determined attack. “I’ve told you a thousand times, I don’t wear granny panties.”

  He grabbed my hand and pressed a kiss against the palm. “Oh yeah? Prove it.”

  I jerked my hand away. “Pervert.”

  “Angry goddess.”

  A grin tugged at my lips as I stalked toward the demon. “Let’s get this over with. We’ll have to move fast because I’m tugging Seraphim free fir
st. There’s no way I’m letting her get blown up with that great-horned insect.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Three Eyes are Better than One

  A true friend won’t ask you to die for him,

  But he’ll have no problem letting you take demon guts in the face while he stands behind you.

  I dropped my air booger down at the Phelps Castle and sat for a moment, eyes closed, trying to contain a rage that felt bigger than I was. If it was the last thing I ever did, I was gonna get my revenge on the contemptible Slayer for what he’d done.

  I shifted against the seat, grimacing as a heavy wetness caused a giant sucking sound on the seat. A sour, butcher shop smell wafted upward and I clenched my fists, which I was holding away from my body because I didn’t want to touch the chunks of gore covering my fine, leather outfit. A bloody string of something I refused to identify trailed from my hair. My cheeks were stiff under a drying coat of blood.

  “Open door.”

  The booger’s elderly electronic brain hesitated for a beat, a confused whirring sound preceding a final click before the door lifted upward. I very carefully shifted my legs outside and straightened away from the car, shuddering when a heavy chunk of something slimy plopped onto the seat behind me.

  “I’m going to kill him slowly, one hateful cell at a time.”

  “Seal and sanitize,” I told the booger. The door jumped downward and stuck, rising again with a clank, and then finally eased shut. The interior glowed green as the booger struggled to incinerate the goop and gore I’d deposited inside. I didn’t even want to think about what the process would leave behind. If I was lucky it would just be a fine residue of gray ash. If I suffered my usual luck, or lack there-of, I’d be forced to remove a charred hunk of demon flesh from my seat in the morning. I shoved the horrid thought away and buried it under soothing thoughts of my revenge against Slayer.

  Sloshing toward the large, arched doorway in the back wall of the castle, I scanned the heights of the dark stone edifice. By habit, I looked for signs that my father, James Phelps, Seraphim in the Angelic choir and God’s right hand man, was home. The façade was dark, the windows like black, unblinking eyes unfavorably judging me as I approached.