bedeviled & beyond 07 - beset & bewildered by Sam Cheever

personality that was Slayer.
    As he nibbled gently on my lips, I pressed shamelessly against the hard ridge beneath his pants, my hands clutching his shoulders as if they were the only thing holding me upright. Lust coiled low in my belly, my sexual core convulsing with need.
    Even the stench around us, which was a living, breathing force of its own, couldn’t penetrate the raging desire that lashed us together into a single, sizzling column of sexual intention.
    Not so the sound of a throat clearing behind us. A smoky tendril of air wafted over me as my need-drenched brain slowly cleared and the realization of what came with that smoky scent finally ripped me from my daze. I wrenched free of Slayer’s arms and turned, dragging the back of my hand over my swollen lips.
    Caninra and her mate stood just inside the door of the scow, looking smug.
    “Did you forget something?” the keeper asked me with an arched brow.
    I slammed my lips closed over a nervous giggle and frowned. “You, um...” I had to clear my throat several times before the words would emerge without a husky tone. “You can come in now.”
    Her other eyebrow peaked to match the first. “Yeah. Thanks a bunch.”
    Her mate nodded toward Slayer. “I assume this is the unfortunate partner. I see you survived.”
    The two hounds lumbered through the door, causing Slayer to place a protective hand on my arm. He stepped forward as if to put himself between me and the hounds.
    I rolled my eyes. “I don’t need you to protect me from them, Slayer. I’ve spent the last hour with them and nobody’s died yet.”
    Caninra’s gaze sharpened. “Not yet, no. But we’re running out of time.” She skimmed a look over Slayer, something speculative sliding through her gaze, and then focused the dark-orange pools back on me. “I hope you haven’t neglected your plan while dry humping your partner in the middle of devil spew.”
    I opened my mouth to tell her off, but Slayer lifted a hand, stopping me. “The scow is programmed. We just need to seal the doors and launch it.”
    Caninra nodded and barked out an order to her hounds. As they shuffled their massive bodies clear of the opening, Randshted pressed his finger against a greasy screen in the panel beside the door. With a groan, the curved, metal door began to slide closed.
    I looked at Slayer. “How’d you...”
    A shout from beyond the doors interrupted me.
    Caninra looked at Slayer. “We must go. The prince’s men are here.”
    My sexy partner nodded and launching himself into the chair at the front of the scow, he started punching buttons.
    A thick, red hand shot through the door when it was mere inches from closing. Then another and another. The door groaned as Torre’s soldiers tried to wrench it back open.
    Caninra glanced at her hounds and they leapt, snarling at the disembodied hands, ripping them off the guards’ arms with a wet crunch and flinging them over their heads.
    Blood flew everywhere. A few drops hit my arm just as static filled my mind again. I sucked in a panic-filled gasp, covering my ears as the savage tones ripped through my brain.
    The scow shuddered, metal screeching against metal, and finally wrenched free as the pain in my head roared to a crescendo. All I was aware of was an inhuman screaming as hands slipped over me, trying to pull me out of the ball I’d folded myself into. Slayer’s voice repeatedly said my name, his concern evident in every repetition. Then an explosion sounded and the scow jolted sideways, flinging Slayer on top of me on the slimy floor.
    Shouting ensued. Slayer’s warmth disappeared and the scow jerked onto its side, its entire frame rumbling under some kind of stress. I slid across the goo on the floor and slammed into the wall as the scow shifted orientation. Agony rippled through me again. Tears, or blood, ran in warm trails from my eyes as the shrieking tone tore ragged tracks through my mind. I was so deeply into survival mode that I thought