Chapter 1
*
Isabelle Grant glanced at the delicate gold watch on her wrist, Midnight. Once again she had wasted away another evening here in this century old Library. Isabelle had actually finished her shift numerous hours ago, but the solitude of this empty place was something she had grown accustomed to.
Isabelle switched off the desk lamp and retrieved her jacket and keys.
As with any other night, she would make her usual stop, the cemetary. Isabelle slipped on her warm wool coat and stepped out into the night air. It was brisk but not unbearable. The short walk to the nearby cemetary and then on to her apartment would take her less than an hour.
Mary, her co-worker and dear friend often warned her of the dangers of walking alone and so late at night. But Isabelle held no fear. Since she had come to work here some six years past, not a single incident. Mary had given her as a gift last Christmas, a small can of pepper spray to carry in her pocket, just for safety's sake. Isabelle had obliged her friend to make her more at ease. But Isabelle doubted she would ever need to use it.
The streets were silent and illuminated by a vast array of antique street lights.Isabelle's thoughts wandered to her Grandfather. He had been a vital part of her life and with his passing nearly two years ago, she had become more withdrawn into herself.
Isabelle shoved her cold hands into her pockets and walked casually down the sidewalk.
The massive iron gates of the cemetary came into view. A visit to her Grandfathers grave always seemed to soothe her. She entered the century old cemetary and walked along the path. There was a good amount of moonlight tonight as she made her way to the secluded gravesite.
Pik Van Cleaf began to twirl the barrel of the silencer as he stood over the bleeding body of
their latest victim. He slipped the weapon under his black overcoat and into his belt.
It mattered naught to him that this bullet riddled body lay before him. It brought forth no remorse or pity.
Pik Van Cleaf produced a small switchblade from his over coat pocket and knelt down eyeing the bloodied money belt. A cocky grin escaped his lips as he cut the money belt free. It was always interesting to see what a man would do for ten thousand dollars.
"Ah, Mr.Robbins...I see your a man who enjoys the hunt."
Fouchon smiled as he eyed his client. Indeed it had been a good night. His client was satisfied and so was Fouchon.
The business of providing human prey for the more adventerous hunters, was very lucrative. He and his right hand man, Van Cleaf had made an ungodly amount of money.
Yes, he was very pleased with the results of tonights hunt.
"Come Mr.Robbins, come and have a drink with me. My man will take care of the rest."
Robbins lowered his weapon, a semi-automatic rifle. "Yes, I could use a drink."
Isabelle stopped cold in her tracks as she spied a handful of men just fifty yards from where she stood. If her eyes were seeing what she thought they were seeing, she was looking at the outline of a man's body sprawled out upon the ground.
A slight gasp escaped her lips and revealed her presence. Fouchon stopped only for a moment. He eyed the intruder with no great haste or concern.
"Pik." Only one look was needed and then turned and led his client to their nearby car. He had complete trust in his man.
Van Cleaf knew what he must do. During their hunts, it was sometimes inevitable to cross paths with the public. Not a problem. Pik, tossed the money belt to the two other men who were preparing to dispose of the body.
Isabelle could hear the voice in her head. "Run!" but her limbs were frozen in place.
She was unable to speak, move or think. Shock had robbed her of all of her senses.
The tall dark clothed man was walking towards her at a casual pace. His hands in his pockets, his dark features strangely interesting and somehow recognizable.
Insane how she would notice a thing like that in a moment like this. He neared and stopped just a few feet from her.
Pik eyed the girl. She was obviously in a state of shock.
His almost graceful movements intrigued her. Pik retrieved the weapon tucked into his belt and raised his arm aiming the weapon at her chest.
He stood there for a moment, looking into her wide open eyes and what he saw he did not like.
Pik knew the look of fear, the look of pleading right before he finished the job. He did not see it in her eyes. She was looking at him with some sort of recognition. Pik began to squeeze the trigger. One shot is all it would take. Then he would be on his way. Just like any other night and just like any other kill.
But he could not pull that trigger. It was if some unseen force had taken control of him.
She had some unknown power over him and it instantly angered him. He was afterall a proffesional killer.He should not have a problem disposing of her. But he did. Pik lowered the gun.
He closed the distance with a few steps and gripped her by the arm.
"Come with me."
He commanded in a low deep voice laced with an unknown accent. Isabelle had no choice but to follow , his grip was firm but painless. It was his touch and nearness that seemed to bring every part of her body to life.
Pik was furious, as he led her down the path and he knew it had been a mistake to touch her. He was loosing control. One minute he's as he always was, a cold emotionless killer and now, here he was leading this girl away from danger.
The massive iron gates came into view. Pik stopped and pulled her closer to him. He could feel her uneven breath upon his face. "Speak of this to no one..or I will finish the job." He tried to sound menacing...she only gazed into his eyes then to his full lips.
Isabelle could feel her heart pounding in her chest. It wasn't from fear, but from the contact with this mysterious man.
Good god, she felt desire. So strong it was she could sense that he felt it as well. A muscle twitched along his jaw line and his look was troubled.
He released her roughly and took one last look at her.
Then he was gone. Within but a few moments he disappeared into the darkness.
Isabelle stood for a moment then gathered her senses. It felt as if she was coming out of some sort of trance. She walked a rather quickened pace to her apartment and not until she was securely inside with the door bolted, did she allow herself to think.
Pik stood by the steet light watching as she entered an apartment building. He had followed her home. He could not explain why.
Isabelle could feel her hands trembling as she removed her jacket.
What in the world had happened tonight ? She had felt so overwhelmed when she had seen this man. In some strange way she knew him, but it was impossible. She was sure she had never seen him before in her entire life.
Why did she feel so confused and drawn to a man whose only intent was to shoot her ! It wasn't the shock of seeing a man's dead body, her senses were reeling with the mere contact with that man. What was happening to her ?
Pik poured himself another drink. He had been back for hours now and he still felt troubled. He could still smell her sweet scent and it plagued him. The way her eyes had lowered to his mouth made his blood coarse thru his veins.
He lifted the crystal goblet and poured the potent liquid down his throat. He wondered how her dark hair would feel in his hands.
He had no need of a woman. His particular line of buisness left little time for trivial pursuits.
"Any problems?" Fouchon asked as he entered the library and seated himself in the antique hand carved wing backed chair.
"No problem." Pik answered as he eyed his partner. "Good" Fouchon grinned as he removed a silver container from his shirt pocket and flipped the lid to reveal a row of neatly lined cigars. It was the beginning of the end. Pik thought to himself.