“He wants me, not these people. I can’t hide like some coward while these people are in danger. I’ve got to do what I can. You just sit back and watch, but the first chance you get, run as fast as you can.” With that he looked up, and yelled, “Hey, Digger! It’s me you want. You let these people go, and I’ll come with you wherever you want to take me.”
“Well, lookey what we’ve got here. Hell’s Hero himself came to my little party. I didn’t recognize you without your silver suit.”
“Wouldn’t have missed it, Digger.” With that he began walking up toward the front with his arms raised, his hands behind his head.
Digger didn’t notice that Dante’s penetrating gaze was tracing a line around him, creating another image of him wearing a police uniform with his old face.
Dante nodded to him. “Who’s your friend there?”
With that, Digger turned to where Dante was looking, and saw his own image, only five years ago, but didn’t recognize himself. All he saw was the police uniform.
“Where’d you come from, copper?” he yelled, and began shooting at the image.
After about three shots Digger grabbed his bleeding stomach, reeled, and staggered before he finally fell to the floor dead.
He had shot himself.
At that moment, Dante whirled around, taking on the persona of Hell’s Hero, silver suit and all. With nothing but the threat of his gigantic frame casting a cold shadow over the gang of hoodlums, each movement he made was a blur as he tied them all up with a rope that seemed to have magical powers, and had them ready for the police the moment they arrived.
“What a stupid move this was,” one of the gang muttered to his partner as they were herded out. “Trying to take Hell’s Hero hostage is like trying to take a tornado hostage.”
While the police was herding the gang out, the crowd in the diner pressed in around Dante thanking him for what he had done while shaking his hand, and even asking for his autograph. While he was receiving good-natured pats on the back, his gaze lifted over the heads to the edge of the crowd to where Fate was standing. When their eyes met, Dante saw Fate looking at him with admiration and love.
Slowly the crowd edged out, leaving Dante and Fate alone.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in action before,” Fate said. “I’m…God, I am such a stupid dunce. I couldn’t see what was right in front of my eyes. Hell, Dante, I wouldn’t blame you if you left me and never returned.”
“Only if that’s what you want.”
“It’s not what I want, but it’s what I deserve.”
“Look, Fate, I don’t want you getting in the same mindset of the rest of these people. It’s good to be admired, and thanked for what I do, but hell, I can’t live up to…”
“Hell? You said a curse word?”
“Fate,” Dante said. “What do you think I am? A god? Some kind of friggin’ holy man? I’m not that. I’m just me. The same old Dante I’ve always been…with a few adjustments, and experiences under my belt. Everyone changes. As time goes on we all change and become different. That’s all that’s happened to me. What the hell did you expect? That I’d always stay that homeless bum you fell in love with? I’m sorry, but that just ain’t gonna happen. If that’s what you wanted, I’m sorry. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
He turned, left the diner, and once out on the street he was just about to start spinning like a tornado when suddenly Fate grabbed him, pulled on his arm, jerked him around, and said, “Shut the hell up, and kiss me.”
With a look on his face that was part superhero, and part devil, Dante grabbed Fate, knocked him up against the wall of a building, and began tearing at his clothes, and being just rough enough to thrill Fate through and through.
“Oh, hell,” Fate mumbled between kisses. “Dante is back!”
The End
Publisher’s Note
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About Temple Madison
Temple Madison is quickly rising into the ranks of hottest erotica writer around today. She slowly evolved from the mundane boy meets girl plotline, to the sexy bad boys who leave a trail of erotic fire wherever they go. Even though she tried to focus on her heroines, she somehow couldn't keep from wrapping her whole story around the gorgeous guys. Finally, she gave in to it and prowled the streets of her imagination in search of her next super idea and gorgeous hunk. Her passion is the big, swarthy type that fits into the big city nighttime scene. These alpha males might be vampires, werewolves spirit beings, or they may be completely normal. But one thing they all are is, sexy as hell.
Early in her career she was discovered on the internet by a publisher that fully embraced her style of writing, and introduced her to erotic e-publishing. What came from it was a series of books that slowly became published, giving her the feeling of at last achieving her goal.
Temple has had her days in the sun, when she was the life of the party, a laugh a minute kind of gal, and outrageously cool, but writing is her passion today. Today she's one of those boring x-civil service workers that has a penchant for bookstores and sappy love songs. She prefers quiet dinners with friends over maddening crowds. Her favorite pastime is writing a truly exciting suspenseful novel with strong, stand-alone characters, and an exciting, anything-can-happen plotline. After several years, her love of writing hasn't left her, so look for more of her dark romance novels that will give you a chill one minute and a hot flash the next.
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