[The Shifters Committee 05.0] Sensual Hero

by Rebecca Foxx

  He felt that for the first time in his life, since his mother had died, there was again a woman in he world ready to take care of him. And those feelings he felt another day too. Another day when he was teaching her young and innocent student how to kill birds, how to trust herself while shooting, how to defend herself against the peril, that can occur any time during their investigations.

  After some days, they would have to penetrate into places to find some clues, and that meant she should be prepared to join him. And the day arrived, when they were both sure about her fantastic skills, as George told as a joke. And that was the last day of their peace before the long fight.

  The night had covered the valley, and the couple was sitting by the river discussing their dangerous plan to follow some men. George made a fire, and as they were hungry and exhausted, they were roasting a poor partridge on the fire.

  The moon found its expression on the waters of the river. But there was no wind, and only the slight sound of water was disturbing the silence. Perhaps that fact made Annabel and George jump out of their places when, out of blue, they heard a sound. George took the gun, and so did Annabel.

  They studied the neighborhood of the river and concentrated all their senses to detect some shadows behind several oaks in the valley.

  "I am sure we had been watched," said George. "Someone has been following us. I feel it, I can even smell the strangers in this vast valley."

  "I think I know who it can be," said Annabel.

  "That man who had warned you against me?" asked George.

  "Yes."

  "He is not alone, he must belong to that group who organizes crimes, in short, our greatest enemy and rival. They already know that we investigate their deeds. They send their men after us," said George.

  "What shall me do now?" asked Annabel.

  "My little deer," said George. "We should be watchful. And I hope you will put down these guns and begin to inspire me with your paintings like before."

  "Even if I fail to fight myself, I will stand by you and handle you the weapons." said Annabel.

  Soon their bodies disappeared in dark. Some things that stayed by the river and endless valley were ashes and true promises.

  ***

  The next day when Annabel tried to open the door of her bedroom, she found herself locked. The panic and fear covered her skin and mind. She hit the door, managed even to accuse herself for going so far.

  "Maybe they had come after me, and they had killed my family," said Annabel.

  But her frightened thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of whirling key. It was the servant.

  "Oh my God! Lily! What's happening? Why had you locked the door?" shouted Annabel.

  Lily had never seen her in such rage. She had always been so nice to her, so calm and tender ...

  "Miss Annabel, please, calm down, your father had ordered me to do so. Your parents are waiting for you downstairs," said Lily curiously studying Annabel's unexpected behavior.

  "Tell them I will come down in ten minutes. And do not lock the door. I am not going to escape," said Annabel who had already guessed, that her parents had found out about her secret affair.

  "Now, Annabel, you should be prepared to fight twice. This is a double war, but I should fight after so many years of futile existence," said Annabel talking with her own image in the mirror. "I will not give up, now when I have all reasons to live. I won't sacrifice my love and my principles."

  With such determination, her legs touched the stairs. In the living room, the rays of sun could not eliminate the sense of strictness. And that strictness was well expressed on the faces of spouses. The woman was nervously playing with her ring, while her husband was looking out of window, as if he expected someone to arrive.

  He poured some whisky and enjoyed it with small sups. Soon Annabel stood in front of him.

  "Good morning, your majesty," said Martin Morrison with irony, that Annabel had always hated.

  "Good morning," said Annabel." I hope nothing serious has happened since you had locked me in my room and..." she would continue however her mother's angry voice interrupted her speech.

  "Very serious! Very!" she said. "How long were you going to hide the truth from us?"

  "What are you about?" she asked.

  "Annabel, dear, my smart girl, do not make fool of yourself, you know how much I hate it." said Mr. Morrison. "We know about your secret affair with that country man."

  "His name is George, dad, and I love him," said Annabel who suddenly felt how tears filled her throat, and her well and long speech prepared upstairs and for the last month became vague.

  "You should love someone who deserves you, my darling," said her Great Martin.

  "I love him! I will stay with him or I will die," declared Annabel with bravery, that no one expected from her, even she.

  "Well, I see that you had decided to follow not your sense but feelings. You are out of your mind now. We won't waste time on this anymore. You will stay locked in your room, until you come to your senses," declared Mr. Morrison.

  It was the worst day of her life. Annabel, however, chose to go upstairs. She did what she was supposed according to their agreement with George. Everything was planned beforehand. She wrote a letter and asked the old servant to give it to the boy, who was to come if she had pushed the curtains of her window. That boy came, and the good old woman Lily gave him the secret letter, instead taking some fish.

  George read her letter.

  My father has known about our affair. I know him well. He will try to reach to you and separate us at any price. I want to escape, that is quite possible. But they do not consider I am capable of doing it. I just know that maybe I will not have be able to come back ever. I feel desperate but determined. I hope to see you tonight. I can escape through my window. Just be there, George.

  With Love

  Your Annabel

  George read her letter with frustration. Of course, Martin Morrison would deal with him, but not at all because of their relationship, but another horrible fact, that he had managed to know just hours before. The man standing behind the frauds and crimes, was actually Annabel's father.

  George had leaned on his writing table and was seeing how the abstract scales became bigger and bigger in front of him. He would never wish one day to compare his love towards a woman to the love towards the justice.

  If he carried out his plan and destroyed Martin Morrison, Annabel would never wish to see him again. His woman would not love to see every day that the hands hugging her, had been actually imbrued in her father's blood.

  He put the letter in the locker and was about to leave the house, when the door was literally slammed down. George quickly ran to his room and took his gun. However, it could not help, as there were several men with guns, and one of those guns just appeared so near to him, just straight on his temple.

  He was forced down to put down his gun, though it could not yet mean that he surrendered. From the window he saw Carl, the boy who had brought him the letter and kept silent, pretending to be all alone. The boy had hold his breath and was behind the wide waist of tree.

  However, as the last man entered to George's house, he managed to run away without provoking any sound. He ran to tell Annabel and friends about the danger.

  Great Martin was standing still but from the expression of his gaze, George could notice the storm in his soul. His brutal smile was full of irony. That was a smile of the man who believed in his own endless power and majesty, who believed in God for the sake of mere comparison of God's existence above, while his absolute fame and power he had dared to announce on the earth.

  "I will order my man to shoot you twice. One for the trouble you caused me for my daughter, and the second one you deserved quite well!" he said with cruel sarcasm." You have gone very far, trying to observe what should be properly done by police! Or did you think you could play with fire without having your fingers burnt? Then your brave and stupid friends will follow you one by
one. You will be able to carry out the rest of your revolutionary plan in heaven, though being frank, I am atheist."

  Then he laughed, while George was hoping for the timely arrival of his friends. However, when the door was opened, he saw another person standing by the door. It was Annabel, her big beautiful, innocent eyes full of tears.

  "Do not do it, dad," she begged.

  "What the hell are you doing here, Annabel?" cried Great Martin. Now his cynic smile had yielded its place to a wild rage.

  "Do you want to see how your darling George dies?"

  Then he turned to one of his man and ordered to take her out. But all of a sudden, something happened, something that no one expected, and it shocked all of them. She took a revolver out of her pocket. It belonged to her father.

  "Do not touch me, or I will kill myself!" she cried.

  "Annabel, put down the gun!" shouted George. "Dear for sake of our love, put down the gun!"

  But she looked like a mad, or, better to say, like a person who had been fed up with all that.

  "If something happens to George, if you touch his hair, I will kill myself, father! I promise!" said Annabel.

  Martin Morrison stood there speechless. Her threatened frightened him but the worst thing was he was surprised. He used to act after thinking long and thoroughly, considering all pros and cons, but now he did not know what he was the right thing to do. he was not used to think fast and right, though this was considered to be the best solution, when one acts at the spur of the moment.

  He reminded a robot or a zombie, who could not talk. He only put his palm on his sweaty forehead.

  Then, though all expected him to retreat and do what Annabel told, he ordered one of his man quickly grab her and take her out. That moment the Great Martin chose his principles, not the life of Annabel. Annabel actually shot. However, as one of the men grabbed her arm, her shot was directed to the ceiling.

  "Jake, now do what you are supposed to," said Martin to the man who was recognized by Annabel. It was that stranger, who had warned her against George.

  George felt how the gun was triggered so close to his temple. For the last time, he tried to see the tender and loving face of Annabel, his eyes closed. Still he heard her cries outside. Still the blood was dancing in his veins. He thought that, perhaps, all the meaning of his life had not been summed up in his principles of justice, not even his childhood memories, the most darling thing he had before meeting Annabel.

  The dearest in his life was Annabel, and everything connected to her: her caressing voice, the tender touch of her compassion to his dreams and reality. He was ready to die for their love, though he was eager to live for it before he would die.

  But suddenly the door was slammed down. The men directed their guns to the door. However, it could not help them against the state police, that was not corrupted like some local policemen.

  Soon Martin Morrison and his criminal pack were arrested. Annabel literally threw herself in the arms of George, who thanked God for the luck to hug her again. Their friends were there, and among them was Carl.

  He had managed to inform about danger not only Annabel, but also the other members of group. Having factual evidence against Morrison and his men, they had called state police.

  Later that evening they enjoyed whisky in pub drinking for the triumph of love and justice.

  THE END

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  Rogue

  Introduction

  Tanner Cable was a beast of a man. Standing well over 6’ tall, his muscular frame had been built as a result of hard work at his family’s salvage yard. Broad shoulders, strikingly blue eyes, and a seductively sly smile, he wasn’t the most educated of men in the town, but he was most assuredly one of the most feared.

  Tanner spent the majority of his time either working at the salvage yard, working on vehicles, riding his Harley, or playing pool at his favorite bar. He had surrounded himself in social settings with like-minded brutes who would rather fight than breathe, and it impacted his intimate personal life dramatically.

  His sexual trysts had been spent with women whose intelligence quotient was barely above room temperature and had more mileage than a long-haul Kenworth. He was satisfied with a lack of intellectual stimulation because the primal need for release was enough for him to get by.

  For 25 years, he had lived in such a manner that darkness followed and haunted him and it was no different where women were concerned.

  Nicole Firestein was pleased with her most recent automobile purchase. She had always wanted a convertible and finally, she bought one. It was a candy apple red 1968 Mustang and she couldn’t have been more proud.

  Of course she didn’t take the time to visit a mechanic and determine if there was anything wrong mechanically, so she shouldn’t have been surprised when coming home from a women’s church meeting that the alternator went out.

  She had no clue what was wrong with her vehicle, but she would soon find out; and she’d learn a lot more.

  Chapter 1 – Electrical Thing

  Nicole was a 24 year-old elementary school teacher in a small town that paid her very well, but was relatively isolated. It was close enough to the big city that within a few short minutes’ drive, one could find all kinds of night life and trouble if one really desired to do so.

  Her drive home from church usually took 20 minutes and passed by a few of the rural hotspots in her county, but the majority of the road was dark and quiet. That night she chose to drive slowly with the top down on her Mustang to feel the breeze in her hair.

  She was about 5 miles from her home when the headlights and her dashboard lights began to dim. The radio she was listening to developed some static and began to crackle and within a few seconds, her car had died completely and she was coasting to a stop. She did her best to get the car to the side of the road and only a little of her back fender stuck out onto the road.

  Nicole tried desperately not to panic but rather go through the mental checklist her father had taught her in the event of a breakdown. First, she went to the trunk and pulled out her emergency kit that contained two flares. After a good 10 minutes of trying to get them lit, she was successful. Next, she grabbed her cell phone from her purse.

  The battery was dead.

  She then began to mumble to herself as she paced back and forth under the light of the moon and the flares at the back of the vehicle. She was dressed in a pair of modest jeans, a pair of flats, a tight-fitting college sweatshirt, and a light jacket to disguise how tight her top was.

  She had struggled her whole life with finding clothing that fit for bigger girls and those who were particularly full in the breast area.

  She then remembered that she should open the hood on the vehicle as another sign that her vehicle was in distress. She opened it with no problem and climbed in the car.

  The cool breeze was coming in from the nearby beach front, and she was glad that she had brought her jacket. Her feet, however, were a little chilly. She looked at the watch on her left hand and saw that it was 11pm and that she had already been waiting an hour and not a single vehicle had come by.

  From a pragmatic standpoint, she thought about how nice it would have been to have her former boyfriend around; but then she realized that he was anything but mechanical and would probably blow up her car rather than repair it. She crossed her arms in frustration and did her best impersonation of a 5 year-old preparing for an epic tantrum.

  It was then that she heard the steady roar of an engine coming her way. She didn’t recognize the sound at first, but once she did, she began to fear for her well-being. What she had recognized was the sound of a Harley Davidson coming her way.

  The driver was a tall man who wore a half-helmet which was barely large enough to meet the state standards. He pulled in front of the Mustang and for a second, he was out of her sight because of the ho
od. She then heard the engine cut off and the sound of boots on the pavement coming towards her.

  He had his helmet in one gloved hand and he rested his arm on the windshield.

  “Need some help?” His question was more a statement than it was an inquiry.

  She stammered a bit, not sure what to say or how to respond. He was rather scary-looking to her and his crotch was at her eye-level. Her eyes were drawn there though she tried with all her might not to stare. Finally, her will gave way and she looked up to his face.