The Devil’s Reward: An Opposites Attract Romance (The Devil’s Soldiers)

Motherfuckers.

Viper and I park the bikes about half a mile away from our destination, and we head in on foot. No one but Bullet knows where we are, and that’s exactly how we want it. Less chance that our mole will give a warning that we’re here. We need to catch Dmitri’s men in the act, and this is our best shot. Neither of us speak as we make our way through the trees and brush. I looked at the aerial maps, along with the topography data I pulled, and I know exactly where we’re the least likely to be detected.

Not to mention, it also will provide us with the best escape route.

It takes us close to twenty minutes to navigate to our location without making noise, and to make sure there aren’t any men hiding in the forest. No doubt they figure they’re safe, but the closer we get, the more we can hear people moving around. I glance over at Viper, and even in the darkness, I can just make out the movement of his head in acknowledgment.

Just like we thought, there are people out here. Now the question is whether they’re Dmitri’s men, or someone else’s. My gut is telling me it’s the former.

When we’re close to the low knoll that we plan on hiding behind, we split up and I lower to my belly, crawling as I go. Years of training immediately kick in and I don’t make a sound, careful to keep low to the ground so as not to alert anyone to my presence. Thankfully there isn’t any high grass that will signal my approach, so I make it to the crest of the knoll with little problem, stopping once I reach it and listening carefully.

I glance over to where Viper is positioned a good twenty feet away, monitoring the activity below us at a different angle. I carefully pull my phone out to take a video.

Men are moving in and out of the old, dilapidated farmhouse. All are carrying boxes and bins, large and small, to different vehicles. They’re not being quiet about it, so I can hear snippets of conversations in the wind.

“Fucking Dmitri, making us come out here to do this shit,” one man gripes loudly.

“Shut the fuck up,” the other man behind him hisses, looking around. I narrow my eyes as I glance around too. If they’re nervous, then I have to figure Dmitri himself or one of his higher-ups is around to make sure the work is getting done. I don’t see them, but they can’t be far.

More grumbling, but not loud enough that I can hear. I lay perfectly still for the next fifteen minutes as I watch them haul more and more items out of the barn, but I stiffen even more when the last few items make their way out. No, not items. People. Two men and three women are led out in chains, like prisoners, and into a waiting truck.

Fuck. Rage simmers hot in my blood and I grip my control ruthlessly tight. I don’t dare move, because if I give us away, we’re as good as dead. So I hold my position and keep on recording. The more I have, the better chance we have of figuring out who these bastards are.

When the vehicles finally drive out, neither Viper nor I move. Years of missions have trained us to never assume the enemy is completely gone. So we lay there, still and silent for another half an hour before I signal Viper to move forward.

When we finally reach the barn, guns in hand, we listen closely before entering. I don’t bother looking for cameras. We want them to know we’re here, and maybe it will piss them off enough to make a mistake. I’d love a good fight right now.

“Let’s see if they forgot anything,” I tell Viper in a low voice.

“My guess, their product was either in the loft out of sight, or hidden underground. They wouldn’t want to leave that kind of thing out in the open just in case someone wanders along,” Viper reasons as he heads for an old looking ladder that goes towards the loft.

“I’ll check back here,” I say, heading towards the back of the barn where some of the stalls are still intact. I search each carefully but see nothing. I check the tack rooms, and still nothing. When I walk back out, Viper is down from the loft, frowning. “Nothing?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Not anything obvious. I see some disturbance up there in the dust, but not even a bit of powder.”

“They had to keep the people in here somewhere,” I say in frustration. “I haven’t found any obvious hatches to something beneath.”

“Any back doors?”

I shake my head. I look around the open space, taking in the falling down wood, the pieces of old equipment that have probably been here just as long as the building itself. A saddle sits towards the back of the large pile, and something about it makes me pause. In amongst everything old and broken, it’s practically perfect except for some frays and a few small scratches. I move towards it, careful not to knock anything else over.

When I reach it, I look at it closely and then the surrounding floor. I narrow my eyes when I see the small sliver of wood broken out of the floor, just large enough for a small hand or a couple of fingers to get in. I carefully reach down and give a smile of satisfaction when I find the tiny lever. I press it and an audible click fills the air.

Viper is over at my side immediately and I carefully lift the hatch that is now ajar from the ground. Stale air immediately hits me, followed by the scent of filth. Viper snarls, and I nod before we carefully walk down the steps, guns ready, and my senses on high alert.

When we reach the bottom I shine my phone light and see that the area is empty, but the bucket in the corner full of waste is enough to tell me the room has only just been emptied.

“Fuck,” Viper hisses, moving to turn on a light switch at the bottom of the steps. The room is illuminated in harsh light, and I can see the blood on the floor instantly. It’s old, but enough that I know someone died here. “This is where they were holding them.” He nods towards another back wall, where a heavy metal door is open. Inside is another room, and I have to assume that’s where the drugs were kept.

I move and look inside, shining my phone light on the floor. The place is clean, so there goes the chance to grab anything. I take some pictures and step out, taking more pictures of the room. “They’re gone,” I say grimly. “And it doesn’t look like they’ll be back.”

Viper makes a noise of agreement. “This place is old, which means it’s probably from Bull’s time,” he says thoughtfully.

“You think Bullet and Hammer knew about this?” I ask.

He gives me a grim look. “I don’t think Bullet did, but I’m not sure about Hammer. He said that he and Bullet knew about the location, but just how much did he know?”

I see where he’s going with this. Is it possible that Hammer is our mole? Knowing about this place, and what’s beneath it, would suggest he could very well be. Otherwise, how would Dmitri and his men know it existed? “He also said there were others,” I remind Viper darkly. “So if he is, there’s a good chance that the reason we aren’t seeing all the activity around town is because he’s told Dmitri about them and has helped keep us off the trail.”

Viper nods. “Still not sure it fits, but we’ll mention it to Bullet.”

I nod. “Let’s get out of here.” We head back out and up into the forest.

We’re halfway back to the bikes before Viper asks conversationally, “Did you get that reservation?”

I roll my eyes. The man is seriously a pain in the ass. “Yes,” I quip.

“Good for you. Glad to see you grew some stones.”

I grit my teeth in annoyance. “I did this to prove a point,” I tell him stiffly. “I doubt this is going to go anywhere, but if it’ll shut you up, then I’m happy to prove it to you.”

He snorts. “You’re not doing this for me, no matter how much you try and tell yourself that. You want the sweet social worker, and you need to get past your memories of Sam. Two birds, one stone.”

I huff. “Whatever.”

When we reach the bikes, I pull my phone out and see a missed text from Quinn. I pause and wonder if she’s pulling out of our date. If she is, I should probably take it as a sign, but I don’t miss the way my stomach tightens as I open it.

Quinn: Do you deal in security systems?

Huh, not what I was expecting. I type back a quick reply, noting that it hasn’t been long since she sent it.

Me: Yes, but why do you need one? Are you in trouble?

My heart speeds up a bit at the thought of someone in her home, terrorizing her. My hand tightens on my phone as I wait for her answer. Thankfully she doesn’t take long.

Quinn: Nothing like that. My neighbor down the road was robbed, and I got to thinking that I don’t have anything here to alert me if someone has been in my house. I was wondering if you could give me an estimated cost?

I relax. Alright, this I can work with.

Me: I’ll be over shortly. Text me your address and I’ll have a look.

Quinn: Oh I didn’t mean tonight!

Me: Quinn, if you had a burglary in your neighborhood, there’s a good chance that it could happen again and it’s best not to let something like this wait. I need to see the house before I can give you a quote anyway.

It’s a bit of a stretch, but I’ll take it. The urge to keep her safe has reared its head and I’m not going to ignore it. Viper glances over at me curiously, sitting on his bike and waiting for me.

Quinn: Alright. Thank you.

She texts me her address and I put the phone away. I look at Viper. “You head on back to the clubhouse. I need to make a stop and then I’ll be on my way.”

He arches a brow. “A stop this late at night?” he asks dubiously.

“Quinn needs an estimate on a security system,” I tell him.

He snorts. “Is that what we’re calling it now?” he jokes.

I glare at him. “Her neighbor was just robbed,” I explain tightly. “And she’s concerned. Wanted to know if we did them and if she can get an estimate.”

He sobers. “Shit. Alright. You need me to come with you?”

I shake my head. “Nah, I’ll be fine. I’ll figure out what I can and then I’ll head back to the clubhouse. Let me know what Bullet says.”

He nods. “Alright. Let me know if you need help.” I nod as we start our bikes and head in different directions.

The drive to Quinn’s house is a bit longer, but I’m pleased to see that she lives in a good neighborhood, even if the burglary did happen. Most times intruders are known to the homeowner, but there are always exceptions. I find her house easily enough, recognizing her car and pulling in behind it. I look up at the house, a quaint cottage-style home, and I can instantly see the pride and work she’s put into it.

The shutters are freshly painted a serene blue, the flowerbeds are full of bright blooms, and the front porch clean and maintained. She doesn’t have a garage, which is both a benefit and a bit of a concern. I climb off my bike and head up to the front door. I knock briskly and wait for her to answer, my stomach knots in both anticipation and unease.

When she opens the door, I’m once again struck by the similarities to Sam, but the soft, shy smile is all Quinn. She’s wearing a pair of yoga pants and a simple gray t-shirt with a book on the front, and her feet are bare. Her coppery tresses are down, and her face is bare of any make-up.

She’s utterly breathtaking, and I have to force myself to smile at her and act normal instead of hauling her against me and devouring those pretty pink lips. “Hi, Shadow,” she says shyly, stepping back and letting me inside. “I’m really sorry you had to come all this way tonight.”

“It’s no problem,” I assure her. “I wasn’t busy.” Liar, my mind taunts me, but I ignore it. I glance around the open living room/kitchen combination. It’s modest and in need of some updating, but I like it. It’s cozy, and I see some toys lying around that remind me immediately of Macy. “Is the little con artist in bed?” I ask Quinn curiously.

She shakes her head. “She has a field trip tomorrow, so she’s spending the night at her friend’s house because her mom is going to be chaperoning. Easier to get her there.”

I nod, remembering that she told me earlier, though my mind is already focusing on the fact that we’re alone in this house. Fuck, I don’t need to know that. She’s far too tempting as it is, and I need to keep this strictly professional. “Are you looking for a basic system or something more involved?” I ask her. I take in the windows in the room, and the back door in the kitchen. All points of entry. There is a small hallway off the kitchen with two doors, and a set of steps in the center of the back wall leading upstairs.

“Um, well, I don’t know,” Quinn answers with an awkward shrug. “Up until now, I’ve never thought about it.” She glances around the room again, her eyes never meeting mine. “What do you think?”

“Most people aren’t going to climb a window to break in, they’ll go through your door or a window down here,” I explain. “So I would say that a simple alarm system and maybe some cameras would be fine. Have you ever had anything happen here before?”

She shakes her head, her eyes still looking past me, and an adorable blush on her face. I have to force myself not to reach out to her and lift her chin so I can stare into the green of her eyes. “No, nothing. It’s a quiet, safe neighborhood. Most times Macy is outside playing with the neighbor kids.”

I nod. “Then you probably don’t have to worry about this area having a random crime spree, so I would recommend the basics. But, to be sure, I’ll need to see the rest of the house.”

“Of course.” She immediately turns and shows me down the short hall, opening the doors to reveal a bathroom on one side and a small walk-in pantry on the other. I check the window in the bathroom, but it’s far too small for someone to crawl through. Then she leads me upstairs where it’s a short hallway again, with two doors directly across from each other, and a final door at the end of the hallway. “My room is at the end,” she explains. “Macy’s on the left and the other bathroom is on the right.”

I open the bathroom door and note that it’s bigger than the one downstairs, and a bit more updated, but again the window isn’t large. Closing it, I open Macy’s bedroom door. As soon as I walk in, I smile. It’s a stereotypical girl’s room, with pretty yellow walls, lots of dolls, hair ties all over the room, and a simple white bed in the center of the far wall. On the walls are pictures and paintings she’s obviously done herself, but my gaze snags on one photo in particular by her bed.

It’s of a man with blonde hair, brown eyes, and dressed in a military uniform. He’s unsmiling, but it’s clear he’s Macy’s father. Which would explain why Quinn does the work she does. I walk further into the room and check the window, noting that it faces the backyard and not the street, and there is no obvious way for anyone to climb up and use this window as an entry point.

“Sorry for the mess,” Quinn says awkwardly. “Macy was supposed to clean this up before she left this morning.”

I turn around and smile at her. “Don’t worry about it. I think kid’s rooms are supposed to be a mess.”

Quinn gives me a shy smile before quickly looking away. “If you say so,” she laughs softly. She leads me out of Macy’s room and down to hers.

When I walk in, I’m immediately caressed by the scent of vanilla, and while her room isn’t large, it’s clean, and the bed is perfectly made. I walk further in to look out the large window on the right side of the bed, noting that the view of the street is clear. There’s a large tree right outside her window, which could give access to an intruder. I make a mental note of it before I turn and say to Quinn, “The only room you might have to worry about is yours. The tree outside is close enough to the house for someone to climb it to get onto the roof and jimmy this open. Since it’s facing the street, it’s kind of stupid for someone to take that route, but most burglars aren’t that smart.”

Quinn frowns. “So what do you think I should do?” she asks.

“I’d recommend a basic system, with motion sensors for the window when the system is armed,” I tell her. “Simple enough to install, and when the alarm isn’t in use, you can open and close the window as you like. We’d do the same for the windows downstairs. And then cameras on both doors so in case someone does show up, you can see who they are.”

Quinn looks up at me in surprise. “That doesn’t sound all that simple.”

I shrug. “For us, it’s as basic as it gets. We have other clients that want state-of-the-art fingerprint scanners, the works, so this is easy.”

Slowly she nods. “Okay, could you get me an estimate?”

I nod. “If we head back down, I can give it to you now if you like.”

Quinn nods. “Sure, that would be great.”

We head downstairs and I briefly glance over my shoulder before I walk out and shut the door behind me. The only photo of Macy’s father is in Macy’s room. Quinn doesn’t even have one in her room.

Which begs the question, why?