Vincent Mallory Edgerton had always been an efficient FREGG operative. It was his family legacy and his pride. He had always loved his job, even when he had to leave everything behind for his safety and become Josh Heinz.
Every love story has a beginning.
Sémya Slotin had been coasting through life solving one mystery after another. While in Hawaii, her young protégée disappeared. When Sémya met Josh Heinz, her mind kept telling her to stay away from the handsome stranger with the hypnotic light brown eyes but she found herself inexplicably drawn to him. He awakened something in her and she was unable to resist him. It never happened to her before. Who was that man?
In Hawaii, Vincent had to work covertly with the sexy bold sleuth. Sémya’s beauty and intellect completely enthralled him, but his passion and growing love for her also changed him. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to finally win her trust and keep her safe, causing him to unleash events that would shape the rest of their lives. From the moment their gazes locked, Sémya and Vincent sealed their fate.
This is the final chapter of the Bird of Prey Saga.
Note: This book is part of the series and is not a standalone. You might be able
to enjoy without reading Bird of Prey and The Plot Thickens first BUT I really advise to read Polliannah Got Married! first.
Dmitri Ivan Guryev yawned and opened his Berlin flat. He just landed from a twelve hour flight from San Diego. His sister Polliannah and her best friend, Sémya Slotin, Detective Extraordinaire, had been living there for the past three weeks. They moved from San Francisco. These women had been coasting around the Western seacoast for the past eight months. He missed having Polliannah around in Moscow but with the current escalating situation with the Dovos family, the furthest away they both were, the safest they should be. That was unless, somehow, Sémya got them into some kind of trouble with one of her cases.
He heard some noises in the kitchen and cursed himself for not being armed and not having men with him. This place was a hideaway that only a handful of people knew about. The less people that know about it the better. The smell of fresh coffee hit him when he entered his kitchen. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he exclaimed when he saw Vincent, shirtless, in his kitchen drinking his coffee from his favorite cup. Edgerton! Of course, he knew about this flat!
“You look like hell. Do you want a cup?” Vincent offered and winced softly patting the large bandage around his stomach. “You should see the other guy.”
Dmitri looked at Vincent’s bruised face. Both of his eyes were black, his lips were swollen and cut, his once thin, long nose was a red puffy mess. “I look like hell. Vincent, what did you do this time?” Dmitri asked, taking the cup Vincent had poured him.
“Escape a certain death,” Vincent said, scratching his short black hair. “I forgot to tell you, I really like this flat. Your best hideaway yet,” he smirked back.
“Are you wearing my clothes?” Dmitri said looking at the pants Vincent was wearing.
“Well, I couldn’t go back to my hotel suite. You see, I left a dead woman there, I just need to lay low for a couple of days,” he said. He walked to the fridge and took out some eggs. “Do you know how to make an omelet? I can’t eat another boiled egg and you’re out of frozen dinners.” Dmitri was to stunned by his revelation and his lack of concern to respond right away. “No Dmitri, I didn’t turn to a life of crime. I leave that to you, Mr. Guryev. Irma Klein drugged me and tried to kill me in my suite last night. I stopped her.” He pushed the box of eggs his way. “I like it with cheese.”
“Why would Irma go after you or FREGG for that matter? That’s suicide,” Dmitri said, picking up the box. Spoiled, rich brat never learned how to cook! You would think that FREGG survival training would cover that besides turning its operatives into killing machines. “She didn’t do this,” he said pointing at Vincent’s battered face.
He didn’t say anything but left the kitchen. Dmitri found him sitting on the sofa, taking what looked like antibiotics. “Sal shot me,” Vincent said when he looked up.
Definitely, the girls were better off in America away from all this mess, catching small time criminals, solving mysteries and what not. “I just got back in Europe and didn’t have time to catch up on your latest prowess. Preppy, what did you do?”
Vincent cocked his head, “You’re going to be some kind of absent father, aren’t you?” He leaned back and closed his eyes. “Why were you in San Diego anyway? Since when are the Guryev’s operating on the American West Coast. I believe you’re trespassing, Dmitri,” he said.
“Ublyudok!” Dmitri said. Vincent could be so cold, making Dmitri forget that he known him since he was just a child, a boy worshipping his big brother Milo… “You’re tailing me? How dare you?” One of his worst nightmares had always been to have Vincent or anyone at FREGG on Sémya and Polliannah’s trail.
Vincent opened his eyes, “That’s my business to know these things. We’re just having a regular lock on your whereabouts. That’s how I knew about this lovely place. Calm down, Dmitri.” Vincent looked like he was in physical pain. His breathing was harsh. “I was at Connelly’s yesterday, when Irma, with her new face, accosted me. One thing led to another, she’s dead and Sal is serious in need of plastic surgery.”
Dmitri frowned back. He walked to one of the guest bathrooms and opened the secret compartment in the back of the towel rack. He picked up a couple of oxycodone tablets and went back to the living room.
Vincent was sweating profusely, probably getting ready to go into shock. He was more hurt that he was letting on. Dmitri threw the pills on the table, “I’m fine, I can ride it out,” he said but his face was riddled with pain. “I though Ivan agreed on not dealing drugs anymore over thirty years ago,” he added.
“Do you have a concussion too? Why are you being more of the dick than usual? Take the pills; I’m just trying to help. You’re still Milo’s little brother after all,” Dmitri told him and helped him up. He forced him to take the pills but Vincent spit them out. “Vincent, why did you come here if you didn’t want my help? Should I call Clyde?”
Vincent shook his head. “They drugged me yesterday, benzodiazepine. I’ve been up for the past twelve hours. I need it out of my system first… so no, no drugs just antibiotics. The bullet grazed me. I know how to patch myself up, Dmitri,” he said but almost collapsed when Dmitri let him go. “A cheese omelet would be nice right now.”
Dmitri laid him back on the sofa. “You’re in trouble, aren’t you?”
Vincent just groaned back, “He had it coming… they all did… for Milo.”
He’s in trouble with FREGG. Irma Klein’s time was already up if she was stupid enough to associate herself with Salomon Dovos. But still, Vincent went too far, “Does it have anything to do with last September and Jim Connelly instead?”
“The pursuit of peace is not always pacific,” Vincent mumbled drifting off into unconsciousness.
Dmitri looked at him and wondered how good it would feel to punch Vincent’s self-righteous face right now. “Do I look like your bloody cook?” He grabbed his mobile and dialled Clyde’s number. “You have one hour to get this smug prick out of my flat or I’ll deliver him straight to the Dovos. I’m sure you can trace the call,” he told him and hung up.
“My life journey is like my playlist, amazingly unique but full of contradictions with surprising joys with every song…”
In the past two years, while living in Canada, England and France I wrote four novels: This Could Have Been Our Song! A coulda woulda shoulda ballad… (Book one) currently available on amazon, iTunes, Kobo, Barnes and Nobles and Smashwords. The sequel This Would Have Been Our Song! Catchy tune and dancers’ tales has been in January 2014. Bird Of Prey, my first mystery romance novel has been released in October 7th, 2013 and its first sequel The Plot Thickens (a novella) in December. The second one Polliannah Got Married! will be released in June 2014 and the final in July 2014. I’m currently residing in Paris, France.