Free bedeviled & beyond 07 - beset & bewildered by Sam Cheever Page B

would have reprimanded him for it, but I remembered Astra repeatedly begging for the same thing from the dark worlders around her. It hadn’t done her any good and I presumed it wouldn’t do me any good either. If they knew something they did was annoying someone, they made sure to do it all the more.
    The door at the end of the passage was unlatched. I signaled for Caninra and her people to hang back and I pushed it open just enough to slip through, the sword poised for battle if I should need it. The stench hit me like a fist and I reared back, cringing as I took in the hundreds of barrels filled with foul refuse...from rotting food to rotting corpses...it was apparently all the same to the royals. The garbage scow was docked in front of a wide opening, its waste-stained metal sides moored to the floor with long chains that were attached to loops bolted into the stone surface. I covered my nose with one hand and moved quickly and quietly toward the scow.
    Hell’s oppressive heat bled through the cracks between the air boat and the castle room, turning what would have been beyond disgusting anyway, into a ghastly mess of half-cooked nastiness pickling the air. The smell was so bad I hesitated as I neared the flying garbage scow, because the worst of it seemed to be coming from inside the thing.
    I tried pulling my energy forward and enclosing my face in a shield. It helped a little, but the stench within that room was a living, thriving thing that wasn’t to be denied. I accidently touched the side of the scow as I reached the door and yelped in pain as it seared the skin off my palm.
    I dropped the sword and it clattered across the floor. Going very still, I listened for the sound of running guards. When no one came I pulled my energy forward and ducked into the scow.
    My boots sank into slimy muck as soon as I stepped inside. Something foul, green and slimy dropped onto my head and, when I looked up, dripped onto my face too. “Ugh! Ish!” I scraped my fingers over the mess and then realized it was worse to have it on my fingers so I ran my hand over my Lara Croft special leather jeans, grimacing as it smeared but didn’t dry.
    That was the thing that sucked about leather.
    Sighing, I gave up trying to dry my hand and looked around for the televisual. The scow was bigger than I’d expected. Apparently Torre had a lot of garbage. I spotted the single, black seat, bolted to the floor and facing the scow’s operating panel. That was my destination. I’d need to override the scow’s programming or it would take us out over the fiery pits and dump us into the flames.
    I glanced toward the door, thinking I should tell Caninra...
    A dark shape loomed up behind me and two hard hands reached out, yanking me back against a hard, slime-covered form.
    I would have screamed but a big, calloused hand covered my mouth. “Shhh! You really don’t want to do that.”

CHAPTER EIGHT
    Only the Good Die Young
    Leave it to me to succumb to passion,
    While standing ankle deep in dragon poop.
    My heart racing, I jerked around and smacked Slayer on the chest before it sank in that he was actually alive. Then I threw myself into his arms, my lips finding his before I gave a single thought to the intelligence of starting something he would definitely try to finish.
    True to his nature, Slayer wrapped his arms around me and, tugging me tight against his long, hard form, deepened the kiss until I could barely breathe under its force. His talented mouth was firm and insistent against mine. His tongue teased my lips until I opened for him, letting myself succumb to the force of his need. Slayer’s hands skimmed beneath my clothing, branding me with heat. Some small part of my brain that hadn’t already capitulated was screaming at me to stop...to step away...and to slap him silly for trying to seduce me in the middle of a garbage scow. But the part of my mind that wanted to grasp reason had no chance against the delicious force of