Thursday, February 11, 2010
Scarlet Angel Release Sunday- Yup Valentines Day.
Beautiful and Deadly…
Seraphim, aka Angel, has known Detective Noah Kamrynn ever since he first picked her up on a charge of solicitation. She was surprised when he used his pull to get her off with only a warning. In the coming years she was found by Malachi, president of the Scarlet Arms. After joining the Arms she was trained in the art of being an assassin. Now her savior from years before needs her help getting revenge against his sister’s murderer. But will their feelings for one another interfere with their jobs? Will Noah have to choose between love and revenge?
"I'm surprised you came."
Seraphim looked around the vacant cemetery where he'd asked her to meet him. A drizzle had started, adding to the already dreary day. She pulled her long faux-fur-lined coat closer. For all intents and purposes they were a couple consoling one another. She slipped her arm through his. "Well, Detective, your message left me curious."
He'd called earlier asking her to meet him. He needed a favor. Detective Noah Kamrynn had been her guardian angel, of sorts. He'd bailed her out of several scrapes and kept her out of jail a couple times. Seraphim owed him, even if she wasn't on the streets anymore.
Two years ago she'd been recruited to work for the Scarlet Arms. They were a group of female assassins posing as high-class hookers. Most had been street-walkers at some point in lives.
"Like I said, I need a favor," Noah said, not looking down at her. His voice was harsh and guttural, like his throat was closing.
She looked up at him. Dark circles surrounded his bloodshot emerald eyes. A week or so's growth of whiskers covered his usually clean shaven face. His reddish brown hair was in need of a cut and stood up at odd angles. Normally neat in his appearance, he looked as if he'd slept in his clothes and didn't sleep long even then, and he smelled to high heaven of booze. "You look like hell. What sort of favor?"
He let out a humorless laugh. "Thanks, Ang."
Even though he knew her real name he always called her by her street handle Angel, just like she always called him Detective.
"I need you to kill somebody."
She gave him a shocked look. "I can't help you, Detective." She started to slip her arm away from his.
He grabbed her hand. “I know about the Arms. Angel, I know what you do."
"And?" she prompted.
"And you do this for me. I'll do what I do best, look the other way." He glanced down at her now, a fevered glint in his eyes.
"I never pegged you for a crooked cop. Maybe a little bent, but never crooked.” He didn’t say anything, just rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “Who do you need taken care of?"
Noah turned back to the grave at their feet. "Her killer."
Seraphim looked down at the headstone. It read, “Alexandria Sylva Kamrynn, October 29, 1980- November 6, 2008.”
"He got off on a technicality, but he did it. Alex was my little sister." His voice softened. “She’d gone back to college, was a little wild but..." He shrugged.
Seraphim squeezed his hand and sighed. Malachi was gonna have her head for this, but she owed it to Noah. "Do you have all the info on the case?"
"I've got everything you need to know." He reached into his leather bomber jacket and pulled out a manila envelope. As she took it he said, "I appreciate you taking care of this."
"Yeah, well, just remember, revenge isn‘t for the faint of heart."
He glanced down at her. “He needs to be stopped. He's a sicko, Angel, so watch it."
A wry smile touched her lips as she turned to walk away. "Sickos never scare me. It‘s the normal guys you gotta watch out for."