bedeviled & beyond 06.5 - bedeviled & bah humbug

• Title Page
  
• Copyright Page
  
• Christmas Short #1 | ASTRA TAKES OUT THE GRINCH
  
• Christmas Short #2 | ASTRA GETS A LUMP OF COAL—THUMPS AN ELF
  
• CHAPTER 1
  
• CHAPTER 2
  
• Christmas Short #3 | THE YEAR THE GRINCH STOLE SANTA
  
• CHAPTER 1
  
• CHAPTER 2
  
• CHAPTER 3
  
• CHAPTER 4
  
• CHAPTER 5
  
• Christmas Short #4 | An Elvish Catastrophe
  
• CHAPTER 1
  
• CHAPTER 2
  
• CHAPTER 3
  
• CHAPTER 4
  
• CHAPTER 5
  
• CHAPTER 6
  
• Sign up for Sam Cheever's Mailing List
  
• Further Reading: Bedeviled & Beguiled
  
• Also By Sam Cheever
  
• About the Author
  

Bedeviled & Bah Humbug

BEDEVILED & BEYOND

Sam Cheever

Published by Electric Prose Publications, 2015.

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

BEDEVILED & BAH HUMBUG

First edition. November 21, 2015.

Copyright © 2015 Sam Cheever.

ISBN: 978-1944245757

Written by Sam Cheever.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Christmas Short #1 | ASTRA TAKES OUT THE GRINCH

Christmas Short #2 | ASTRA GETS A LUMP OF COAL—THUMPS AN ELF

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

Christmas Short #3 | THE YEAR THE GRINCH STOLE SANTA

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

Christmas Short #4 | An Elvish Catastrophe

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

Sign up for Sam Cheever's Mailing List

Further Reading: Bedeviled & Beguiled

Also By Sam Cheever

About the Author

Christmas Short #1

ASTRA TAKES OUT THE GRINCH

In this short Christmas story, Astra has been conscripted to deal with a demon that’s been sliding down chimneys after Santa leaves, stealing toys, and beating up anyone who tries to stop him. The reportedly hairy, green demon wearing a red Santa suit and hat has been really hard to catch in previous years, but the Big Guy has grown increasingly tired of his antics and, this Christmas, has called out the big guns.

Angry at having to work on Christmas Eve, Astra reluctantly trudges out to deal with The Grinch on a bitterly cold night, carrying with her some really dark thoughts. But the spirit of love and giving soon touches Astra and she discovers she’s not as alone and unloved on a cold night as she might have thought. All she has to do is reach out and embrace her blessings. Not an easy thing for a cynical halfling to do. But Astra Q Phelps is definitely up for the challenge.

Bah Humbug.

Sometimes it just sucks being a demon slayer. Demons don’t take off for the Holidays. So that means I don’t get holidays off either.

It was Christmas Eve, and everybody but me was warmly ensconced in comfort and/or festivities.

I was standing in a snow bank.

I’d been asked by the Big Guy to capture a nasty green demon named The Grinch, and was currently standing outside some of the buildings where he was expected to strike.

Stomping my feet in an attempt to remove four inches of icy, wet snow, I grimaced at the soggy ring around the calves of my pretty leather boots. I figured they were pretty much ruined. Swearing softly, I realized I should have worn my furry boots to the demon stakeout. Who knew I’d be standing around in snow up to my armpits waiting for a skinny green demon with bad fashion sense to show up and steal a bunch of toys? Somewhere in the back of my beady little brain I’d pictured myself quickly swooping in and scooping up the cranky green guy and flinging him into Celestial jail before you could say snicker doodle.

Occasionally I’m over-optimistic.

I scowled, in a truly bad humor. Who had I pissed off to be given Grinch duty? I’d saved the world from certain destruction for God sakes! Not just once but multiple times.

And there I was chasing down a damn toy thief!

An icy breeze swung across the street and drove its frigid fingers between the thin layers of my clothing. I tugged on the lapels of my short, leather jacket, which was woefully inadequate for the climate, and tucked my frostbitten fingers under my armpits. Sighing, I found myself wishing I’d given more thought to prepping for my current assignment.

The air shimmered beside me and Flick appeared, dressed in full guardian regalia. His face was split in a grin and he held a brightly wrapped package, tied with ribbon, in his hands.

“Hey Flick.”

“Hey, Astra.”

He pushed the package toward me and I winced. “Oh...um...I left your gift at home.”

Flick gave me an all-knowing, guardian angel type look that said, I know damn well you didn’t get me anything. “That’s okay, Astra. I was going to wait on this but I think you need it now.”

I took the package and reluctantly tugged on the ribbon, sure it was another damn fruitcake. Over the years I’d built an entire wall of the stupid things in my apartment and used it for target practice. Not even a tightly focused beam of energy could burn a hole in those hardy suckers.

Inside the box was a pair of thick, fur-lined gloves of the softest leather. My eyes widened in surprised delight and my fingertips tingled in anticipation of the warmth they would bring. “Flick, you have no idea how much I need these right now!” I pulled them on and moaned with pleasure at the incredible softness and warmth. On impulse I leaned forward and placed a kiss on his cheek.

His pale face turned a deep red. “I’m glad you like them. I figured they’d come in handy tonight.”

I cocked my head, seeing him in an entirely different way than my cynical outlook usually allowed. “That was very thoughtful.”

He shrugged and started to shimmer away. “ ’Night, Astra.”

“ ’Night, Flick.”

Smiling, I watched him disappear, my night having gotten a tiny bit better from his visit. A noise in the alleyway across the street brought me out of my warm thoughts and back to the brutal reality of my task. My gaze whipped toward the alley just in time to see a flash of red disappearing between the buildings. I concentrated my power and shifted to the mouth of the alley, landing with my knives clutched firmly in my toasty fingers. I was happy to note that the gloves only enhanced my grip.

My eyes widened in shock at what I saw.

A handsome, surprised face, over scored by white fur, turned in my direction. Sexy lips curved upward at my battle stance. “Hello, my queen.”

I slapped my knives back into their sheaths, feeling my previous good mood slipping away. “Don’t call me that, Dialle. What’s with the garb?”

He was wearing skin-tight, black leather pants that skimmed his long, muscular legs and yummy round posterior in a truly mouthwatering way. Tall, red boots with white fur on the tops hugged his lean calves in a loving embrace. His torso was covered in a form fitting red velvet shirt, which was laid open at the neck to showcase a truly astounding pair of pecs. He wore a fur trimmed Santa hat. Silky black hair fell in smooth waves from beneath the hat, to curl softly around a square chin with a dimple in the center.

I loved that dimple.

Dialle opened his arms, grinning widely. “I’m your Christmas Angel.”

I snorted in a less than ladylike way. The idea that I would have a leader of the Royal Devils as a Christmas Angel was just too funny. “You are many things, bud, but an angel you’re not.”

Dialle stepped closer, bringing an unnatural and very welcome heat with him. He pulled me into his arms and I sighed, enjoying his scent and warmth. “That’s just because you bring out the devil in me, Astra.”

I looked up and fell into his black gaze. The passion swirling through the midnight spheres of his eyes made me shiver with need. I lifted onto my tippy toes and captured his soft lips in a hungry kiss. Dialle responded by pulling me closer and sifting his hands through my hair.

He held me in the kiss and against the hard planes of his body until stars burst before my eyes. I could almost hear the blood singing through my veins, rushing southward, to more demanding spots. When Dialle broke the kiss I made a tiny sound of regret. For a heartbeat I stood where I was, lips still lifted expectantly and eyes closed.

Dialle kissed the end of my nose.

I licked my lips and finally opened my eyes. “What are you really doing here?”

“I came to give you this.” He snapped his fingers and a long, leather coat appeared in his hand. I gave a squeal of delight and grabbed it, holding it up to my nose. I nearly swooned at the rich scent of tanned leather. “It’s real leather!” I stuck my hands inside the sleeves. “And it’s lined in fur!”

Oh my god! Was I hopping around and squealing like a girl?

Taking a deep breath, I squelched my girlish moment in an effort to regain my composure. But it was too late. Dialle was grinning from ear to ear. “Merry Christmas, my love.”

I reflexively said, “Don’t call me...oh...” I slammed my mouth closed and bit my bottom lip to hide the smile that wanted to escape. “I guess you can call me that.”

He laughed.

I pulled my short jacket off and plunged my arms gratefully into the long leather coat, moaning in pure delight as its softness and warmth enveloped me. “I love it. Thanks.”

Dialle kissed my nose again. “I’ll let you thank me properly later.” He lowered his head and his tongue came out to run along the seam of my lips. I pulled Dialle-scented air in through my nose and closed my eyes, swallowing his scent like the finest wine and getting slightly woozy from it. When he pulled away he said, “I’m really looking forward to that.”

“Not half as much as I am, bud.” I responded huskily.

He touched my nose with a finger and popped away, leaving me warmer, hornier, and wishing I didn’t have to chase evil green dudes on Christmas Eve night, when everybody else was home, snuggled up in front of a roaring fire eating goodies and drinking Christmas cheer.

Which reminded me. Where was that green demon? The information I’d gotten told me he should be there. I wondered if I’d somehow missed him while I was enjoying my brief moment of heat with Dialle.

As if on cue, a woman screamed inside the building next door.

I ran inside and took the stairs toward the upper floors at a dead run. Crashing through a door on the third floor, I landed, feet planted wide in a battle stance and knives drawn expectantly, in somebody’s living room. I winced as the shrieking, which had continued unabated as I’d rushed to the rescue, increased when she caught sight of me.

At first I thought I’d found my Grinch. The creature who stood on an ugly yellow couch a few feet away had a lumpy, green face and clutched a ratty red bathrobe around its extensive middle with one hand, while brandishing a large, glass ashtray with the other.

The brown eyes staring at me from the midst of the green slime were filled with terror.

“What?” I yelled, trying to figure out what she was shrieking about.

Her shrieking increased and she lifted the ashtray higher, flourishing it threateningly in my direction.

I realized she’d transferred her terror from whatever had originally sent her into hysterics, to the leather clad halfling standing in front of her brandishing knives. I slipped the knives back into their sheaths and showed her my empty hands. “I’m here to help. What’s wrong? Why are you screaming?”

She slammed her lips closed and the terrified brown orbs swung toward the Christmas tree. “It’s over there.”

I stared at the scrawny tree filled with ornaments and colorful lights. I could easily see between the overburdened branches and I didn’t see a large green guy wearing bad velvet standing behind it. Peering carefully around the space, I came up with nothing.

“I don’t see anybody.”

“It’s not a body. It’s a rat.”

“Arrrgghhh!” I shrieked and leapt up onto a nearby table. The woman screamed too and climbed higher on the couch, onto its well-worn back. The couch rocked backward for a terrifying moment and then slammed back onto its stubby front legs as she adjusted her weight.

“A rat! Are you kidding me!” I shrieked in a less than manly way.

“Lady, would I kid about something like that?”

Hissing emerged from the greenery and the lower branches of the tree rustled. “What’s it doing down there?”

She shook her head and a glop of green shit flew sideways, plopping wetly onto the glass topped table beside the couch. “I think my cousin Arnie must have given me a cheese ball again. He gives me the damn things every year and they taste like a dog’s butt.”