bedeviled & beyond 01 - bedeviled & beguiled by cheever sam

Author:cheever, sam [cheever, sam]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: science fiction romance, sci fi romance, Paranormal Romance, angels and devils, futuristic, paranormal romance series, Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Electric Prose Publications
Published: 2015-08-17T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Tuck and Roll

The silvered wings did whip her face, until it was quite red,

And then the gilded Angel of God, did pop her on the head.

It turned out that, among the horrible holograms DD Raoul had been looking at that morning, had been one showing the tattered remains of Mx. Susan Cooper. Mx. Cooper, it seemed, had been unfortunate enough to be in a well-known demon nightclub when things went a little sour and a fight broke out. According to Raoul, one of the club’s younger demons, who got his kicks out of terrifying the clientele, let his mask slip just enough to send a pretty, young woman running for the exit, screaming for her mommy in language only a sailor’s mother would appreciate. The demon that’d started the ruckus didn’t seem to like having his date escape him so easily and had gone after her. This caused several of the non-demon male clientele to come to her rescue and the place exploded into a party mix of teeth, fists, claws and various flying bodily fluids.

Strangely enough however, only Mx. Cooper had been killed. Her newly segmented body had been found behind the club, stuffed into the trash compactor, but not, as yet, compacted.

I asked Raoul, as carefully as I could since he was already pissed off at me, if he didn’t think it was strange that she’d been killed and stuffed in a trash compactor when everyone else had just been bloodied up a bit in the brawl.

His answer was to level those hard, brown cop’s eyes at me again and leave. I guess that meant the distinction had, at least, occurred to him.

~SC~

Myra shimmered in as I was placing the coffee cups into the flash cleaner in my food service area. She leaned against the counter as I worked and smiled at me. Having gotten used, over the years, to her scowling countenance, her jovial presentation made me distinctly uncomfortable.

I narrowed my green eyes at her and stepped back to give her the once over. “Been eatin’ those poor little canaries again, Myra?”

Myra’s laugh reminded me of the sound crystal makes when you run your fingertip around the rim of a half filled goblet. Coming from her it pulled the hairs on my arms to attention. “Ok, what’s up?”

My angel shrugged and raised her golden eyebrows, cocking her head toward the drink valet. I sighed and programmed in another cup of the black nectar. At this rate I was going to have to bill the Big Guy for refreshment costs.

As the coffee brewed, Myra lowered herself weightlessly into a chair at my well-used table. Looking at her, a thought penetrated my loggy brain and I had to smile. It had occurred to me that in the last twenty-four hours a royal devil, my best human friend, a death detective and an angel of God had all used that same chair. If wood-look, fire-proof, non-petroleum-based man-made furniture product could only talk, what a story that chair could tell its friends.

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