Friday, September 2, 2011

Finders Keepers: Tempted - Chapter Five

Recap: In Chapter Four, Demonica discovered herself busy trying to put out fires in her personal and professional lives. The constant smolder Adam’s kiss had set off inside of her proved to be one fire she couldn’t get under control as easily as she wanted.

Adam wandered off into the night. It had been hard to pull himself away and even harder not to turn around. What the hell was wrong with him? He had a job to do and the bastard he planned to take down sat pretty high on his shit list. He loved this kind of job, covert and solo.

He stopped by his place briefly to arm up and pack his rucksack. Everything he needed had to fit in the oversized hiking bag, and last. Who knew how long the hunt would take. Adam hoped it wouldn’t be long. He wanted to get back to a different sort of track and trace. Licking his lips, he could taste her there.

He shook his head and gathered up his pack. Sending a quick message to Danny to watch the new girl, he climbed the stairs to the roof. Sure and steady Blake waited with the Blackhawk, the rope ladder dangling over the side. Adam climbed it and settled in, ignoring the smell of polish. Blake had an odd fascination with his chopper.

Adam closed his eyes, he wasn’t up to talking or trading barbs with his team mate right now. He just wanted to get a head start on the resting so he could start his hunt as soon as his feet hit the ground.

Blake’s voice crackled through the speakers anyway. The bastard used the com to wake him up. “First stop’s the Congo. Hope you brought your shorts, bug spray, and machete.”

“I knew that already,” he growled and pulled the brim of his cap down.

“Just trying to keep you up to date. Want to know what the in-flight meal is?”

“Fuck off, Remy...”

The chopper turned violently into a manoeuvre that shouldn’t have been possible and Adam felt his stomach churn.

“It’s leftovers,” his pilot’s laughter echoed through the dark space.

Adam launched forward with his dagger and plunged it into the passenger seat. “Keep doing things like that and I’ll take her out one piece at a time.”

Blake swallowed hard, his fingers rubbing the damaged cushion. “Fine, but next time just tell me you’ve had a stick shoved up your ass and skip the ruination of my fine flying craft.”

Adam removed his dagger and slipped back into his seat. This time, he did up the straps in case Blake decided to get even. It wasn’t like him to do something so irrational and he’d have to apologize later. Right now, he just wanted to sleep.

He woke up to the sun blaring and more disturbingly, the chopper shaking violently thanks to Blake.

“Rise and shine, gloomygus. We’re here.”

Adam looked out the door and grimaced, “That’s too far to jump.”

“So chute in.”

“Into the wooded wilderness of the Congo? Look Blake, I’m sorry for attacking the cushion. I’ll buy you a new one when I get back.” The chopper shook and veered close to the treetops. “I mean, bill it to me – express.”

Blake pulled the Blackhawk out of danger and veered off to the west. “Why didn’t you say so, I think I saw a clear patch over this way.”

Twenty minutes later, Adam schlepped his pack through the jungle brush. Blake hadn’t been kidding about bringing his machete; it proved useful from the moment he’d landed. One encounter with a panther had ended with the beast sulking away to find a different meal. Except for the heat and the biting insects, Adam didn’t mind the jungles.

His brain kept wandering back to a blonde in Mission. He shook the thoughts away and regarded his map again. He was close if the intel from Council was right. He seriously doubted it.

Adam would have stumbled right into the enemy camp if he hadn’t been paying attention. Guess the Council could still give appropriate intel. They must really want this one dead. He staked out the small camp and moved to a hidden spot.

A few minutes later and his sniper rifle lay beside him, assembled and ready to go. He also had a good com-link established with Blake. The Blackhawk idled nearby ready to snag him and fly once he got his target.

That in mind, Adam army crawled to his hill and set up shop. He watched carefully for hours, waiting for a kill shot. His target was there, the place reeked with the scent of demon.

“Damn it,” he muttered. Adam had missed the hidden jeep now barrelling off at full speed and taking the stench of demon for the ride. Something must have alerted the demon to his presence.

“Blake! He’s on the move, pickup now!”

Adam shot down the targets moving on him and quickly hooked on to the quick extract line. It jerked taut and lifted him airborne within moments. Blake moved quickly to follow their target, but not fast enough. Adam sighed and climbed back into the hold.

“We lost him, eh? Catfish caught scent of us and went running for his hole,” Blake called out.

“Looks like, Remy.”

Adam quickly grabbed the Blackhawk’s computer and began looking through the files on their target. His amped up brain processed the information quickly and he slammed the Toughbook closed.

“I know where he’s going next.” He grinned. “Swing by Rio first, I need supplies.”

Adam loaded his rucksack with his newly acquired goodies and sat the pack aside. He’d told Blake to head home, thinking the chopper had set off the demon’s alarm. He’d have to do this mission the old fashion way.

He handed the box off to Blake. “Be careful with those and make sure you leave it on her doorstep.”

“Playing Romeo from the wild? She oughtta love that.”

“Just take care of it for me. Please, Remy.” Adam stared at him.

Blake placed it in his own sack and stepped back. “Fine but it seems an awful fine waste of weaponry on a woman.”

Adam stopped at the hovel door and turned. “She’s not just any woman.”

With those words between them, he disappeared into the city streets and began his hunt in earnest. He would find this monster, finish him off, and go back to Montana on a different mission.

The chime of her doorbell woke Demonica a few days after her encounter with Adam at the pub. She blinked blearily at the clock and groaned at the readout it gave her. Six in the morning?

Sheoul nudged her and whined.

“Fine,” she grumbled and slid out of bed. She slid a thin wrap on to cover her nakedness and followed the hound to the door. “Who’s there?”

No answer came and she saw no one as she peeked through the curtains on the left side of the door. Sheoul pawed at the heavy wood and she pulled it open to let him out but stopped him before a huge paw stomped on the box sitting on her stoop.

“What’s this?”

Tartarus bounded up behind her and gave the package a cursory sniff before following his brother out the door.

“Okay, well… It passed the sniff test. Let’s see what’s inside.”

Demo rested the plain brown paper package on the kitchen table and quickly made herself a cup of coffee and toast. She set the plate down and sipped as she drew a razor sharp nail down the middle of the wrapping. The paper fell aside to reveal a square of vellum and what appeared to be a weapon case.

Setting her coffee down, she pulled the note and case from the box. She worked with her thumbs the latches and revealed a brushed nickel nine millimetre pistol complete with extra clips and accessories. She flipped the card open and laughed softly at the inscription in neat, precise strokes. Better than blades. Trust me, Adam.

“Well,” she grinned. “That’s a hell of a lot different from the standard roses and chocolates but, I’ll take it.” Carefully extracting the gun from its foam casing she checked to make sure it wasn’t loaded before aiming it at the fridge and firing a pretend round at the appliance. “Very nice. I’ll have to make sure and thank him when I see him next.”


Come back on September 20th, 2011 for Chapter Six of Finders Keepers: Tempted.

Copyright © 2011 Danielle Gavan and Jennifer Feuerstein

Danielle Gavan
Urban Fantasy and Erotic Romance Author

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.

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