Content advisory: mild violence, frank language.
He saw her the moment she walked back from the restroom. Tight leather pants hugged her legs from just below her navel to the tops of her booted feet and a black lace corset barely held her assets in check beneath a cropped leather jacket. Blonde curls swung around her shoulders and down to her ass as she walked. Adam resisted a sudden urge to dig his fingers into the blonde depths and wrap the entire mass around him. His senses reeled as a quick scan proved she wasn’t human. He observed, feigning disinterest, as she took a seat next to some yuppy. Adam also scanned the guy just to be safe – really not a demon’s type.
Shifting his eyes back, he found his subject staring at him. Damn, she’d spotted him too. Not in the mood for explanations or games, he watched as she tried to slide out of the booth. Her date distracted her momentarily and he took the opportunity to make his exit.
Pausing outside the pub, he glanced through the glass as she looked around. Pretty for a demon, he thought, but he had no time for pretty women, demon or otherwise. His target was out there, somewhere, waiting for his bullets. His trigger finger itched telling him he was wasting time. If his target knew he was being hunted, he’d go underground costing Adam the advantage.
He forced himself away from the window, pulling his collar up as he melted into the crowds. He pushed through the drunken tourists and avoided the locals. A superstitious lot by nature, the Irish quickly picked up on his differences. He didn’t need his prey learning of his proximity, nor could he afford distractions. Adam’s last mission hadn’t impressed the Council, so this mission had to finish with deadly timing.
He walked away, trying to catch wind of the demon he hunted. Adam paused in an empty alley to check his handguns. He preferred to use his long range sniper rifle. That weapon’s capacity left him out of the shit-zone of the kills. This demon required up close confrontation though, the kind of surgical precision shooting he exceled at.
His cell phone buzzed, alerting him to a new text message. Calmly, Adam replaced his weapons and pulled his coat over the holsters. He scanned the message and grinned. Apparently, Blake hadn't been happy to sit and wait with the Blackhawk. The breach in protocol had led Blake to Adam's target and Adam now held the coordinates. He ran lightly toward the alley in question and paused a few feet from it to think.
Adam slowed when he reached the alley and, doing his best drunken imitation, stumbled in. The demon handed something to a strung out kid toward the end of the alley. He wandered close and pretended to look for a place to piss. Mr. Demon Drug Dealer ignored him and went about his deal as though no one was around.
Adam spun quickly, firing two shots in quick succession. The first struck the demon between the eyes and might have given the druggie a trim on the way by. The second struck the heart, ending the demon’s reign. The addict turned with a small blade in his trembling grip. Adam rolled his eyes and kicked the knife away. He grabbed the kid by the collar and growled.
“Get. Clean.” He stared into the kid’s eyes and the scent of piss reached his nostrils.
Wonderful, Mr. Slice and Dice wet himself in fear. Adam tossed him to the side and dug out his phone as retreating footsteps beat a hasty staccato on the pavement. He took a picture to confirm the kill and sent the file to headquarters. Another second and he had the vial of blood the Council required for additional confirmation. He’d leave the body, the local authorities would clean it up. Probably chalk the death up to gang violence or spin it as a fight over drug territory.
Putting everything away, he sent Blake the order for a pick up. A rope dropped from the sky as sirens started to sound in the distance. He was airborne before those sirens even got close. Hauled into the hold, Adam took his seat as Blake steered the Blackhawk for home. Time to make his report and take a few days off.
“Success?” Blake asked, the headphones not needed for their sensitive hearing.
“I wouldn’t be sitting here if I wasn’t.”
“Just checking, I’d hate to have to turn back around.” Blake’s voice dripped sarcasm.
“I’ll ask for some time off for you too,” Adam grinned. “You’ve earned it since you helped track the bastard down.”
“Was he actually guilty this time?”
Always the same questions and it sucked they had to ask every time. “Yeah, caught him selling drugs to a teen,” he sighed. “I don’t know what he did to piss off the Council, but he was guilty regardless.”
“Makes it easier when they deserve the killing.”
“Why, Remy, didn’t know you cared.” Adam snickered.
Blake’s growl echoed through the helicopter. “Just ’cause I hate demons doesn’t mean I don’t know the difference between guilt and innocence.”
They traded a few more barbs before the hum of the sleek high-tech motor lulled Adam into sleep. He usually never dreamed, but tonight his subconscious made an exception. A woman with blonde hair and lush curves beckoned to him across an empty room. Sin and salvation all wrapped up in one provocative package. He reached out for her and she smiled invitingly. Come to me, Adam.
Come back on August 2nd, 2011 for Chapter Three of Finders Keepers: Tempted.
If you missed any of our previous posts and would like to catch up, you can purchase the Digital Digest Volume I anthology as an ebook for only $.99.
Copyright © 2011 Danielle Gavan and Jennifer Feuerstein
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.