He was bold enough to stand; and as the pale creature started to turn away, Sevyn mouthed silently, “You're dead.”
His smirk confirmed that he’d gotten her message.
The cop's commanding voice drew her from her silent promise as he snapped his fingers in front of her face.
“Ma'am, are you okay? Can you speak? What's your name?”
Her voice found its way through the rough patches of her throat.
“My name is Dana Diallo. My father is William Diallo.”
She knew that by giving her father's name, she would be treated with more respect.
The cop's mouth flew wide open.
“William Diallo, the self-made millionaire, entrepreneur, and diplomat? Get outta here.”
I wish I could.
Her father was somewhat of a celebrity for his business wealth. He’d made it into countless money magazines and had been interviewed by some the most popular talk show host. His diplomatic status increased his celebrity status, making it spill into her and her brother’s lives.
Somewhere in the distance, a cop yelled a late announcement.
“Lower your weapons. Lower your weapons. She’s been setup. It's not Wilkins.”
The truck door squeaked open as the cop announced that he would cut her loose. Finally, Sevyn released the pressure she had on her injured arm. She relished the fact that she wasn’t going to die today. This meant she would have another chance to catch her mother’s killers.
The biggest question on her mind: was she going to get them before they got her?
Chapter 2
Dana
The rain poured in sheets, washing the world of its evil. At least that's what Danalyn Diallo believed. The sound of it relaxed her, the sight of it hypnotized her, and the beauty of it eased her mind. Rain was her therapy, a form of meditation that kept her sane in a world filled with chaos.
From her side of the window, her fingers traced the beautiful droplets as they drizzled down the outside of her windowpane. She hated to turn away from the glorious view, but she needed to dress and prepare for another day.
Beautiful, classy, and smart were words she heard people use to describe her. The words were descriptors Dana aimed to make true when presenting herself to her family and friends.
No one in her family knew her as Sevyn, nor would she ever tell them. As a Top asset, her agency had a hand in helping her downplay the truck scene that had gotten her shot a few months ago. A mugging gone wrong was what was released to the public. All of the cops involved that day had written their reports to match the far-fetched mugging story. Dana didn't know the details of how Top had convinced all of those cops to lie, but she was grateful.
Top had a number of different cleanup crews. Apparently, crime scenes were not the only kinds of scenes they were equipped to clean.
Reminding herself she was the dutiful daughter now and not the spy, she thought of her family.
Her brothers, Daniel and David, co-ran the family business, Diallo Investments. Although her father was CEO of the investment firm, William chose to embrace his job as a diplomat. He specialized in foreign relations between the US and a number of participating nations.
Dana had no clear idea of what her father's specialty entailed because he never spilled any of his job secrets. She assumed she had an idea of what diplomats do, until she found out she didn't. Job secrets and secret jobs was an interesting paradox that she shared with her father.
Dana defied many of the requests and demands of the Diallo men. Their aim was to get her married and settled into a nice cushy life, but she would never be content with being a stay-at-home prize to some man that likely didn't deserve her. She played by her own rules when it came to men, and it drove her father and brothers crazy.
They claimed she gave them fits. All she ever heard was how hardheaded she was and that she was too tough and too hard on men. They teased that the docile gene skipped her. To appease them, she acted her part, to a certain point.
To appease her, her father made her a portfolio manager in the family's investment firm. Her passion was never to work for her father, but the job proved to be a valuable cover.
The only real time Dana spent away from her family was when her father allowed her to attend college across the country in New York. She had begged and pleaded to go to New York because that was where her secret hunt for her mother's killers had led. There was only one reason her father allowed her to go. His best friend lived in New York and had agreed to keep eyes on Dana.
Although she’d earned a business degree, Dana was certain her family never intended for her to use it.
Now four years into building one of the firm’s most lucrative client lists, and despite her brothers leaning on her for advice and investment ideas, the men in her family continued to treat her like the black sheep.
Dana didn't mind being their little sheep as long as they relaxed some of the formal, prim and prudish standards they expected her to maintain. Although labeled the troublemaker because of her combative—and against the grain—nature, she had her father wrapped around her finger and usually got away with murder.
She enjoyed the financial security her family provided, but Dana refused to bask solely in the good life while the real world went to hell. She knew from her experiences as an agent that the real world operated under veils of evil so insidious, it would make heads spin. She didn’t want to be soft and unaware, so she refused to keep herself sheltered from reality.
Dana loved her family, but she was more inclined to find ways to make the world safer verses picking out china, or choosing flowers, or attending teas and balls.
Dana’s mother, Natalya Pajari Diallo, had been the consummate mother and socialite. When Dana was younger, she was being groomed to follow in her mother’s footsteps. She had never set foot in a public school, had never been without a maid or butler, and had never shopped at Wal-Mart. She didn’t know what it was like to be on a budget or go without any luxury in life due to finances. She’d never washed her own clothes or dishes and never cooked.
Despite all of the comforts and security in Dana's life, her mother had died during a horrific home invasion. Dana had not only witnessed her mother’s death, she’d been in the room when it happened.
The crime had done irreparable damage to her young psyche. Her rantings of monsters eating her mother's flesh had landed her in the offices of countless shrinks. The fact that no wounds had been found on her mother's body led her family to believe she had truly suffered a psychotic break after seeing her mother's death.
Her father, as much as he fought to hide it, had never gotten over his wife’s death either. He blamed himself, saying he hadn’t done enough to keep her protected.
The horrific events of the home invasion had changed Dana's focus, drastically. She stepped away from following in her mother’s footsteps and no longer shied away from the harsh realities in life that most wealthy people ignored.
Dana perfected the art of looking the part. She strived to maintain a stylish, classy and sometimes even elegant persona. One would think her a princess instead of the daughter of a wealthy diplomat. She enjoyed the spoils of the life her father provided her; it was also the perfect cover to hide her more dangerous activities. Her hunger to seek out and kill the men that had killed her mother was, at times, overwhelming.
At only twenty-four, her father harped on her constantly. “You need to be married Dana. I want grandbabies.” Her brothers wanted to become uncles. She was the only woman in a family of men and not having children was a step from being a crime in her family.
She deflected some of her responsibilities as the dutiful daughter and sister, but the men had no intention of giving up easily. They often invited the wealthiest and most eligible men to events, in an effort to spark her interest; but Dana was on to their tactics. Helping with the family business provided a great cover, but it was also her way of keeping her family off her case and proved, just a little, to them that women
could be more than just…kept.
Her daily routine—go into her office, make people money, solve financial problems, and attend meetings—was boring.
A few days ago she'd ditched the latest security officer her father insisted she have with her at all times. The guard awaited her reappearance from the lady’s room of a restaurant she requested to eat at. She'd sneaked past the guard, headed to her Mercedes, and drove away.
After her mother’s death, her father sheltered her and kept her under protective eyes, so ditching a protective detail became a sport. Their family home was protected like a fortress. Her brothers, although they would never admit it, had literally run away home when they turned eighteen.
Dana remained at the insistence of her father. She considered running away and becoming a career spy, but love for her family, however crazy they all were, kept her from leaving.
Her father was convinced that hired protection was the key to keeping them safe. As a result, he had one rule; Dana could do as she pleased as long as she allowed him to protect her. He had relaxed the protection rule drastically, until her latest incident ended with her being shot in the arm.
The last few guards her father hired had been of a much higher caliber than usual. They weren’t so easy to lose. The guard she'd left guarding the empty restroom called her father and quit before she'd made it home. She must have executed one too many disappearing acts on the man.
It took her father less than a week to announce he'd found her a promising replacement. All of the bodyguards he hired were promising until she found a way to make them quit.
One of the maids peeked into her room.
“Ms. Diallo, your father would like to see you in the study.”
“Okay, I’ll be down. Thanks.”
It was time to meet the newest victim—guard—her father hired to babysit her. Without even giving the poor man a chance, Dana started to formulate a way to get rid of him. She didn’t need protection, nor did she want any. Protection only got in her way when it was time for her to hunt.
Chapter 3
Neal
Neal Erickson had been a government agent for five years. He didn’t understand why he was assigned a job babysitting the daughter of a wealthy diplomat.
He was never one to boast about his abilities; but he usually received more serious jobs, like tracking murderers or taking down rogue combatants. He didn’t know whether he should be upset about the downgrade, or happy as it could serve as a reprieve from his otherwise hard work.
Trained for combat, the last thing he wanted was to babysit some spoiled, rich woman. But, he was never one to complain, so he accepted the assignment and kept his comments and opinions to himself.
If there was one thing he’d learned in his line of work, nothing was ever as it seemed. The file he received from Top communicated an unbelievable story about his new assignment, Dana Diallo. The information had him questioning how she’d ended up in a situation that ended with her being fired upon and shot by cops. Neal approached his new assignment determined to keep an open mind.
He'd been in Seattle three days, and the rain never stopped. Seattle must be the city that coined the saying, “April showers bring May flowers” because the April showers were in full bloom. He noticed that most of the people didn't mind the rain, but it was something he would have to get used to.
He was greeted at the front gate of the secluded estate by an armed guard that conducted himself with military exactness. Checking his paperwork and ID, the guard also examined his rental car with some type of sophisticated scanner that belonged at the entrance to the White House instead of the entrance to a private residence.
The guard opened large outer gates and pointed Neal to a secondary entrance that led to a massively guarded mansion. Neal was greeted by another armed guard, waiting in the driveway with an umbrella.
“Hello, sir. My name's Howard. ”
He reached out a hand. “Nice to meet you. I'm Neal.”
Turning down the offered umbrella, Neal shook water from his collar and followed the man. The entranceway opened to a barred walkway that lead to the actual entrance—two large metal doors. Neal observed. The man used a key card as well as punched in a combination of numbers to gain access into the house.
Surprised, Neal noticed more guards posted at discreet locations within the house. Apparently, the diplomat was serious about protecting his family. This place was fortified and guarded like a prison.
The house appeared larger on the inside than it appeared from the outside. It exuded a high level of sophistication and class. It showcased beautifully crafted French-style furnishings with modern allure. Areas on the walls where pictures normally hung had original handcrafted and carved art etched directly into the wall. There were life-size statues and vases that put museum showpieces to shame.
It was plain to see that the Diallos were wealthy. The diplomat’s salary was probably pennies compared to what he actually made as a successful business owner. Being a diplomat, however, garnered a certain level of power that most successful people thrived on. Despite what the public thought they knew, diplomatic immunity had many definitions and was one of the best perks of the job.
Neal was escorted to a large study. The size and well-stocked bookshelves made the space resemble the lobby of an exclusive library.
Neal took in Howard's curious smile as the man instructed him to take a seat. He seemed to be itching to leak information that Neal wasn’t sure he wanted to hear. It was too soon to start hearing rumors.
When Neal didn’t comment, the man started anyway.
“If you’re here for the daughter, good luck, buddy.” His words were slow and deliberate. “She. Is. A. Handful. When she’s not charming her way into getting what she wants, she uses her cleverness to trick her way into getting what she wants.
“I must warn you, one of her most lethal weapons is her beauty. It should be against the law to be that damn beautiful. She doesn’t flaunt her looks, but it’s difficult not to notice. Let me warn you ahead of time, everyone her father has hired in the last few months has ended up quitting or requesting a transfer. They all claimed she was too much to handle.”
Neal didn’t comment.
Howard continued, “Mr. Diallo, however, thinks his daughter is an angel, and no one had better say otherwise.” Howard started to leave but turned back. He’d forgotten something else. “Oh. I almost forgot. Although she’ll disrupt your efforts to protect her, keep in mind that there is a threat lurking.
“She downplayed being shot, but there may be someone trying to kill her. From what I was told, she was an eyewitness to her mother’s murder when she was a little girl, and the killers were never found. It’s one of the reasons Mr. Diallo keeps so many guards in place.”
Neal gave a nod. Although he already knew the information, he took heed of Howard’s warnings. He’d studied the diplomat, his three children, and the latest incident that had gotten the daughter shot. Although he didn’t know why, he was intrigued.
****
Neal jumped to his feet when William Diallo entered the room. Gripping his hand, the older man held firm.
“Son, I already like you. You know how to show a man respect.”
Neal inclined his head, “Thank you, sir.” He noticed the man was fidgety, like he'd had too much coffee.
Letting his hand go, William gestured for Neal to take a seat as he proceeded to talk.
“Is it okay if I call you Neal? Calling you Mr. Erickson is too formal. My daughter is always getting on to me about being too formal.”
“Yes, sir. Neal is fine.”
Neal noticed the man’s accent was distinct and remembered reading that he was originally from Nigeria.
William approached the tray of refreshments one of the maids set in place and poured himself a drink.
He glanced at Neal over his glass. "I hope you don't drink much Neal. I need you with a clear head if you're to keep my daughter safe.”
“I neve
r drink on the job sir.”
A smile inched across William's lips at the statement.
“I need to explain a few things to you about my daughter.”
William took a deep breath before he took a long sip of his drink.
“Son, I’m not a fool when it comes to my daughter. She’s polite and proper in front of me and guests, but I know better. She has a mind of her own, and she knows how to use it well.
“She’s a strong-willed and determined woman; and although she never tells me, I know she’s usually up to something she doesn’t want me or her brothers knowing about. I have never snooped into her private business, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do everything in my power to ensure her safety.”
Another sip emptied his glass.
“She's a complex one. Hardheaded and, at the same time, sweeter than sugar cubes. She doesn't listen or take orders well. She's used to getting her way or finding a way to get her way. I can't say she's spoiled, but she does like to live well. And she’s smart. The girl knows exactly how to downplay her smarts. She'll have you thinking she's clueless when she knows the endgame all along.”
William shook his head as he thought and talked at the same time.
“She gives me ulcers, but I love her to death. She's my only baby girl, and I will do anything to protect her. But, I'd be damned if trying to protect her isn't one of the most difficult tasks I have ever undertaken.”
Neal sensed how much William cared for his daughter. It was embedded in the creases of his face, in the tilt of his smile when he spoke of her, and in the flash of his eyes when he thought about her.
“Neal, you have come highly recommended from a good friend of mine, and I’m counting on you to keep my girl safe, by any means.”
How much trouble could one woman be? Neal wondered.
Pushing the button on the house’s intercom system, William asked one of his maids to track down his daughter and have her meet him in the study.
Neal had no idea why he was anxious about meeting this woman who seemed to have a reputation for being a bit of a troublemaker. He was a well-trained agent, measured among some of the deadliest and most well-equipped mercenaries in the country.
Sevyn: Adult Paranormal Romance (BWWM Romance) (Supernatural Thriller) (The Smoke & Fire Series Book 4) Page 2