Sevyn: Adult Paranormal Romance (BWWM Romance) (Supernatural Thriller) (The Smoke & Fire Series Book 4)
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Sevyn
The Smoke & Fire Series
Adult Paranormal Romance
Book #4
Michele Wesley
Copyright © 2016 by Michele Wesley
ISBN: 978-0-9961554-7-2
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual person, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: This book depicts scenes of violence, strong language, and strong sexual content that is intended for Adults 18+.
eBook formatting by Michele Wesley
CONTENTS
Chapter 1 Sevyn
Chapter 2 Dana
Chapter 3 Neal
Chapter 4 Suspicions
Chapter 5 Wet Panties
Chapter 6 Cloaked
Chapter 7 Puppet Master
Chapter 8 Sneaky Opportunist
Chapter 9 Lust and Desire
Chapter 10 Temptation
Chapter 11 Chasing Danger
Chapter 12 Sinister Intent
Chapter 13 The Scariest People
Chapter 14 The Dead Don't Die
Chapter 15 Secrets Revealed
Chapter 16 Family Crest
Chapter 17 Brazen Behavior
Chapter 18 Hypnotized
Chapter 19 Suit Up
Chapter 20 Taking Heads
Chapter 21 Traffic Stop
Chapter 22 Consequences
Chapter 23 Free Falling
Chapter 24 Dungeon
Chapter 25 Truths Be Told
Chapter 26 Hunter's Gene
Chapter 27 Truce
Chapter 28 August Heat
Epilogue
Author Thank-you
Read the first seven books and any prequel of this series in any order.
Coming soon in the Smoke & Fire Series
Guardian Sixx
Dreams Whisper
Available now in the Smoke & Fire Series
Smoke & Fire
Sparks – Novelette Prequel to Smoke & Fire
Body Box
Anger & Arrogance
Chapter 1
Sevyn
The yelling would not cease. One moment it grew intense and the next it faded into the background. Sevyn was lured from the grips of sleep by someone’s aggressive shouting. She shook her head a few times to ward off the lingering effects of drowsiness and jumped when an urgent call struck her eardrum once more.
“Throw down your fucking weapon and exit the vehicle!” repeated a forceful voice.
Disoriented, it took Sevyn a moment to realize she was the one being yelled at by a voice that was way too loud to come from a man. Her mind struggled to restore her body's functions. In spite of her difficulties, she began to comprehend the gravity of the words being yelled.
“Throw the weapon down, now! Roll down the window and let me see your hands!”
The pieces started to build a horrific scene; and the worse part, she was at the epicenter.
Sevyn was afraid she had finally pushed her enemy too hard. Her need to avenge her mother’s death had placed her right into the hands of the monsters she was hunting.
Since age fifteen, she’d been prodding and poking a hornet’s nest, searching for the monsters that murdered her mother. No matter how dangerous the hunt, she refused to stop. Hunting had become her secret obsession.
Now, she feared she was trapped in a hopeless situation. Odds were stacking and they weren’t in her favor, as her chances for survival grew dimmer with every passing moment.
She sat in the cab of a musty pickup truck. The rearview mirror showed a shotgun hanging haphazardly behind her head against a cracked, tinted back window. The barrel of a smaller shiny weapon caught her gaze. Its constant motion was perplexing, until she realized it was in her shivering hand. Although there was a small crack in the window, it didn't prevent the cold reach of February from finding her.
A threadbare mechanics jumpsuit discolored by splatters of paint, dirt and grim clung loosely to her body. Gas seeped from the jumpsuit. The intense stench of fumes watered her eyes and labored her breathing.
The 9 millimeter in her hand was aimed at nervous cops as they yelled angrily for her to drop the weapon. Along with their shouts, one of the cops used a voice amplifier. Her view through the windshield showed at least eight cops. Twitchy trigger fingers caressed the levers of service pistols as Glocks and 9 millimeters were aimed at her from every vantage point. The cops located to the east and west of her aimed pump-action shotguns.
Tape and rope kept her immobile. It held her in place along with the weapon she desperately wanted to, but couldn’t drop. The cracked window and mildew-tasting rag in her mouth muffled her screams, preventing her from vocalizing her distress to the cops outside. It had taken her a while to discern that she was being address as Darrell Wilkins.
As a government agent, it was Sevyn's job to know the ins and outs of the criminal world. Darrel Wilkins had recently taken credit for killing three cops.
Why in the hell do they think I’m Darrel Wilkins?
The clues sprouted from her brain as her situation continued to fully reveal answers. Her posed position and the gun taped to her hand was a death sentence. The gag in her mouth stopped her from identifying herself. Her left arm was cuffed to the driver's side door and even her legs were bound. Head and shoulder movements were the only functions that remained.
The culprits who posed her purposely used the cop killer Wilkins' truck and identity as far as the angry cops were concerned. She was posed for execution, her true identity obscured by the conditions of her surroundings. The tint in the side windows, her dark clothes, and the overcast Seattle sky all kept her from being positively identified.
The setup was well-thought-out and executed. She was trapped in a cop killer's truck, pointing a gun she couldn't put down, at cops who likely wanted nothing more than revenge. If that wasn’t bad enough, her gun hand had gone numb and her jumpsuit had been soaked in gas.
Her arm was suspended, held in place by rope. Thin rope attached to the ceiling pulled her arm up as opposing rope tied around the console pulled her arm down in the opposite direction. The incredible amount tape and rope used to secure her to the seat did its job as she sat unable to escape or break free.
The lighter tint of the windshield allowed her an unobstructed view of the cops. She didn’t have to be outside the truck to know the cops saw only a suspect pointing a gun at them.
She desperately wanted to speak, but the rag soaked every drop of moisture in her mouth, and she couldn’t spit it out. The dash’s digital clock announced she had opened her eyes ten minutes ago. It was only a matter of time before the yelling became flying bullets.
“Hummm. Mmmm,” she groaned uselessly into the unpleasant rag blocking her vocal exclaim for help.
The shouts outside intensified, silencing her moans. Even her shivering ceased. Due to loss of circulation, she feared any attempt to move her numb gun hand. Any sudden movement of the gun would give the twitchy-fingered cops the green light they needed to pull their triggers.
“Throw down your fucking weapon and exit
the vehicle!”
She clung to life surrounded by gun-wielding vultures waiting to pounce on her with bullets.
There was no order to their yelling. Some barked, some screamed, and some were straight forward in telling her they were going to blow her brains out. All of them seemed to agree on one thing—she needed to drop the weapon.
Sevyn struggled. Hunting and underestimating her enemy had landed her in this deadly situation.
While hunting monsters, she had shot one of the inhuman bastards in the chest twice and he kept coming. Chest shots usually slowed them down, but not this particular one. He had actually smirked at her before she was struck over the head from behind. The powerful blow had instantly turned her light into darkness. She expected her enemy to kill her, but this was worse.
She was set to be unintentionally murdered by cops, who had no idea their world was a dark haven of terror they couldn't even imagine.
There wasn't a damn thing she could do about her pending execution but sit there and look like a dangerous gun-wielding suspect.
Her ability to move faster than the average human had always been her advantage. Being able to move faster meant she could anticipate faster; therefore, she wasn’t looking forward to seeing her death coming before it got to her.
Sevyn had been recruited into a Top Secret government spy program—Top. The agency had apparently had eyes on her for years. They actually produced footage of her making her first kill. It had taken her three years to track one of her mother's killers; but at eighteen, she was an amateur and her sloppy execution had gotten her caught. Top was not like any agency she'd heard about or knew of. Instead of punishing her for killing a man in cold blood, they recruited her.
At the time, she had no way of knowing she hadn't actually killed a person; nevertheless, she didn't need much convincing to accept the Agency’s proposal.
She was provided a few years of training and at twenty-one, Top activated her. With the training she received from Top, Sevyn's fighting, tracking, and killing skills improved tenfold.
She used those skills to track her mother’s murderers.
The flicker of some unknown object caught her attention and sent her eyes in the direction of one of two stands of trees. Sevyn studied the area with probing eyes until she made out the outline of a sniper, nearly camouflaged in the dying foliage left clinging to a far-off tree. His scope should allow him to see her ropes and tape; and he would, hopefully, tell the rest of the group she was being setup. At least, that’s what she hoped would happen.
One of the officers advancing on her location shouted once again for her to put the gun down. His shouts grew into desperate pleas.
“Please, put the gun down. You don’t have to die here today.”
Sevyn prayed the sniper's scope would help him figure out her dilemma before his anxious friends started firing at her.
The advancing officer stopped directly in front of the truck. His voice rose octaves above the other cops who never stopped yelling for her to drop the gun.
The blast of a gun surprised her as much as it surprised the cops. The cop in front of the truck ducked for cover using the truck’s front end to shield himself. She wondered who fired the shot because she definitely wasn't shooting.
Sevyn slouched as low as she could manage, preparing herself for the firestorm of bullets that were about to come her way. Her body shook with enough tension and fear that the cuffs on her left wrist clinked against the un-paneled door. If the bullets didn’t kill her, any spark or hot piece of metal would ignite her gasoline soaked jumpsuit.
The anxious cops scrambled for cover but their eyes didn’t stray away from Sevyn. Couldn’t they tell she wasn’t the one shooting?
There was no synchronized call to fire. The blast of guns was the cops’ call to action. The first bullet, thankfully, missed its mark, penetrating the body of the truck and not hers. The second, however, flew through the front windshield and whizzed past her face, like a tiny fighter jet. Shards of glass flew into her face as she fought to protect herself. Shooting pain came alive on the exposed areas of her skin, making her cry out and struggle desperately against her restraints.
Like the projectile of death it was, another bullet headed straight for her head. She yanked her body, forcefully, pulling herself down enough that the bullet narrowly missed her forehead.
Having speed in her defensive arsenal had saved her many times, but how many bullets could she dodge before her luck ran out?
Her sharp jerk to avoid the next bullet snapped her gun hand; and she, inadvertently, shot at the cops. The bullet exited below the rearview mirror and flew through the windshield. The shot was aimed high enough that it would thankfully sail above the group of determined cops.
Shards of glass dug into Sevyn’s face and neck so forcefully, she couldn't do anything but duck and force her eyes to shuffle open and close. She needed to see which way to duck.
She cried out, but only muffled moans escaped her.
A bullet snuck past her view, ricocheted off the metal of the gun in her hand and shot into her forearm. The searing hot pain erupted through her arm and forced the numbness away. Tears seeped through Sevyn’s tightly shut eyes. Her cries intensified as did her horror.
Pain was put on hold as she dodged another bullet in the nick of time. The loud thump of bullets pelting the body of the truck had her twitching and wiggling in the seat. Every shot could have been death coming to meet her. In her attempt to get as low as she could, she stretched her suspended and now shot arm to its limit. As the rope dug into her flesh, the bullet in her arm burned, like acid eating her flesh from the inside out.
The driver's side window shattered, bathing her in glass as a bullet narrowly missing the top of her head. The bullet came so close to killing her, it knocked her wig lopsided. To preserve her identity, she usually wore wigs when she hunted or worked undercover. Closing her eyes, she prayed out loud and awaited the final shot that would take her life. She wasn't ready to die, but her immediate horror made her life literally flash before her eyes.
Her biggest regrets were not seeing her family one last time and not finding and killing the rest of the monsters that aided in her mother’s death. Her need for revenge had finally consumed her.
As abruptly as the shooting started, it stopped. The dead silence was intimidating as she awaited the torturous sound of more gunfire. The eerie silence made the drip-drop of blood flowing from her injured arm sound like the last beats of a dying heart.
Had someone finally noticed she was tied to the truck and not an active shooter? Had they noticed that she wasn't Darrell Wilkins?
She did her best not to squirm or move. Pretending to be dead would help more than trying to explain her situation. She kept her head slumped forward and peeked from her tearstained eyes.
The tap of a hard-bottomed shoe scrapping against the pavement grew louder. One of the cops approached.
“Fuck,” the cop grumbled.
Another cop in the background yelled, “Hold your fucking fire god-dammit!”
At her window now, the one that approached stood at an angle that Sevyn couldn’t turn to see him.
He yelled, “Put the gun down! Let me see both your hands!”
Sevyn couldn’t follow the officer’s commands. All she could do was remain immobile and pray the cop would step a little closer. The cloudy sky dimmed the daylight, so he needed to move closer to see the full extent of her situation.
The sound of the cop’s nervous breaths rushed from his mouth. Advancing closer, he quietly assessed her. His voice boomed through the busted window.
“It's a female. Someone tied her to the truck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuuuuck!” he shouted with a thunderous roar.
The head of the cop, the one that had taken refuge in front of the truck, appeared. Sevyn peeked through one squinted eye, not sure of how soon to reveal that she was alive.
The man in front of the truck stared, unmoving. Sevyn imagined she was a sight, sitting there
tethered to a truck that had been through its own little war.
Confident enough to raise her head, she glanced at the cop that stood at her window. He gasped and drew back a bit, astonished that she was still alive. She raised her head higher, so he would see the rag in her mouth.
A shaky hand reached out.
“Ma'am, I’m going to remove the rag.”
Thank God, she thought.
As soon as the rag was removed from her mouth, she started coughing. Her dry and scratchy throat became ignited by the fire she must have unknowingly swallowed.
The cop reached further into the truck.
“Whoever did this, they did a number on you, lady. Damn.” He talked low, more to himself than to her. “Who’d you piss off?”
Sevyn struggled to speak, but sound avoided her raw throat. Her ragged voice squeaked, unable to form words, as she fought to tell the cop who she was. Her attention was diverted, however. Her quick eye caught something much worse than gun-wielding cops lurking.
The bastard, or one of the sons of bitches who had arranged this entire setup, was stooping in a stand of bushes that fought the cold to stay alive. He was far enough away that the cops hadn't noticed him. He had likely been there the entire time, waiting to bear witness to her death and was likely the asshole that fired the first shot. The cops had been too busy ogling her to even notice him. An evil smile creased his pale face.
“Next time,” his lips conveyed to her.
The bastard's eyes were as sharp and as quick as hers. He knew she saw him.
“Ma’am,” the cop at her window called, but her eyes remained on the devil in the bushes.
He knew she wasn't going to alert the cop to his location because she lived for the hunt. His nonverbal words were a promise that he was going to kill her the next time they encountered each other.
Knowing the cops weren't aiming to kill her anymore, Sevyn's body sparked with an untapped fury that heightened her need to kill the demon posing as a man.