Smoke on the Water Read online

  Guardians of the Dark

  Smoke on the Water

  by

  Bianca D’Arc

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  1st Edition

  Copyright © 2011 Bianca D’Arc

  Published by Kensington Publishing, Inc.

  2nd Edition

  Copyright © 2018 Bianca D’Arc

  Published by Hawk Publishing, LLC

  Smashwords Edition June 2018

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  In the misty fog of a lakefront village, zombies are roaming wild--and zombie hunter John Petit must stop the carnage. John is also fighting a different kind of battle: a forbidden passion for his new partner, Donna. With her help, killing zombies is a walk in the park, but keeping his desire in check is making him sweat

  Author’s Note & Dedication

  Note: This is the second edition of this story, which first appeared as part of The Beast Within anthology alongside stories by Erin McCarthy and Jennifer Lyons. The title of this story has not changed, but it was previously published under the anthology title. Apologies for any confusion this re-release might cause.

  I’d like to thank my dear friend, Peggy McChesney who helped me whip these books into shape. The editing they received in their first publication was…um…not all it could have been. There were reasons for that. I had just lost my mother and my brain was not at its best. The publishing house was going through a major upheaval as one of the grand dammes of the New York publishing world suddenly died and her young assistant was left to pick up the pieces.

  Then a new regime came in and cleaned house, taking that young assistant—who was my editor—with it, and as a result, me and my poor little books never quite got the attention I felt they deserved. In fact, it’s amazing they were even published at all with everything that was going on both at the publisher and in my personal life at that time.

  Now that I have control of these books back, I’m fixing the errors that slipped through and I’m sorry to say there were some doozies! Mostly, they were continuity errors and I’m doing my best to eliminate them with Peggy’s help. She did her best. If any mistakes remain, it’s totally my fault because I have to admit, I am definitely getting confused. My process is to write as clean as possible in the first draft so as to avoid just this kind of confusing situation later.

  That said, I believe we’ve done a good job on these second editions and hope you will agree. Here’s to Peggy and her amazing eye for detail! Thank you so much, my friend!

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Night Shade

  About the Author

  Other Books by Bianca D’Arc

  Prologue

  “Oh, crap.”

  Donna Sullivan realized her mistake almost immediately as four big Chinese guys stood up from a table in the rear of the restaurant she’d just entered. All of them were staring at her as they headed her way and they didn’t look friendly.

  Maybe she’d asked a few too many pointed questions in the wrong places. She was new to all this femme fatale stuff. She’d only been recruited to join a top-secret military team a few weeks ago and then, only by default. She’d earned the dubious honor because she was immune to the contagion that had the country’s top scientists and a select group of Special Forces operatives scrambling to not only keep it secret but to contain it before anyone else died.

  It looked like Donna had gained the attention of some of the Chinese mobsters she’d been looking for, but in a really bad way. Cursing the tinkling bell over the door, she sprinted out of the restaurant and down the street as fast as her legs would carry her. She had to get away. She wasn’t far from the rooms her partner, CIA Agent John Petit, had insisted on renting in a rundown building off Grant Street. Maybe she could get there before those guys caught up with her. Maybe if she just cut through this alley…

  Donna ran for the narrow opening, trying to evade pursuit. Those seriously scary guys were definitely following her. A quick glance down the street before she turned into the alley confirmed they were running after her. She took off, looking over her shoulder to check the mouth of the alley when a big hand reached out of nowhere, grabbing her around the waist.

  The unknown assailant dragged her into a dark doorway. It shut ominously behind her with a soft click. A hard male body pressed up against her as one big palm covered her mouth and his other arm held her around the middle. Had she gone from the frying pan into the fire?

  Pounding feet sounded just beyond the flimsy door. She did her best not to make a sound. The guys who were chasing her were definitely bad guys. She didn’t want to betray where she was. She’d rather take her chances with this lone assailant than with the four who had been chasing her. She liked the odds better, even though she was no Chuck Norris. Hell, she wasn’t even a Chuck E. Cheese. She had zero combat skills, but she’d go down fighting, regardless of how badly she actually acquitted herself.

  “What the hell did you think you were doing?” A tense whisper sounded near her ear. She knew that tone of consternation with an edge of steel.

  Thank the good Lord, it was John, her so-called partner in this mess of a mission.

  He let go of her mouth as she relaxed into his hold.

  “I was trying to get the information you seem so reluctant to go after,” she challenged, keeping her voice low.

  John let her go completely and started walking into the dark interior of the hallway. He’d dragged her into the little-used alley entrance to their building. She followed him down the short hall, up one flight of stairs, and into their rented rooms.

  “Who’s the trained agent here?” He turned on her as soon as she’d locked the door behind them.

  “Dude. Do not pull that on me.” She tugged her shoulder pack off and plopped it with more force than was necessary on the console table near the door. The place had come with the bare bones of furniture. “I know you were a Marine and some kind of CIA spook, but what do jarheads or spies know about detective work? Your sister at least was a cop before joining this screwed-up team. If she were here, I can just about guarantee that she wouldn’t be sitting on her butt twiddling her thumbs, waiting for the information to fall from the sky into her lap.”

  “You don’t know a thing about my sister. And for that matter, you don’t know a thing about me either.”

  She backed down, duly reprimanded. He wasn’t saying anything but the truth, no matter how much it might hurt. “You’re right. I don’t.”

  He grabbed his knapsack and started gathering the few things he’d left lying around the small apartment. He was packing.

  “Go change your shirt and put your hair up. Then get your stuff to
gether. We have to leave.”

  “What? Why?”

  “It won’t take them long to figure out where you went. They lost you in the alley. There are only a few places you could have gone from there. They’ll check them. All they have to do is talk to the building manager or any of the tenants who’ve seen you.”

  She hadn’t thought of that. She went into the room she’d been using and tugged off her red T-shirt, replacing it with a blue tank top. “How did you know where to find me?” She raised her voice to be heard as she quickly scraped her hair into a ponytail and donned a baseball cap.

  “I was watching the street and saw you run out of the restaurant. You’re quick, I’ll give you that. I almost didn’t catch you in time. I swear, Sullivan, you took ten years off my life.”

  She raced around the small room, gathering her belongings and stuffing them into her knapsack. She’d packed light for this trip. John had insisted. She was glad of it now, though she’d fought him at the time.

  Considering they were now on the run because of her, she thought maybe she should cut John a little slack. He might be autocratic and a total chauvinist, but he was also proving to be right about a lot of things. Damn the man.

  “It’s okay.” She stood in the doorway to her small room, ready to go. “You returned the favor when you grabbed me like that. I thought I’d traded four goons for one possible ax murderer.”

  He sobered. “You could have.” His gaze pinned her, deadly serious.

  “Yeah, I see that now. I’m sorry, John.”

  “Sorry?” He smiled tightly as he checked the windows, then peered through the peephole. “I never thought I’d see the day you’d apologize for your headstrong ways.” She would have argued with him about his rather insulting phrasing but she saw his entire body tense. Something was up. “Do you have everything?” His voice was pitched low and tense.

  She nodded, slipping her knapsack over her shoulder.

  “One of your friends from the alley is in the hall, talking to Mr. Chen.” John kept his eye to the peephole. “He just flipped open his cell phone. Calling for reinforcements, I bet.” His expression turned steely as he pulled back from the door and turned to her. “Hold this. I’ll be right back.” He handed her his bag, which was even lighter and smaller than hers, before opening the door. He shot out like a race-horse just released from the starting gate.

  She heard muffled thuds through the closed door as she raced toward it. She pressed her eye to the peephole just in time to see one of the big bruisers who’d chased her go down in a heap at John’s feet. She knew John was a martial arts teacher of very high rank, but she’d never really seen him in action before.

  The guy on the floor hadn’t even had time to draw the big gun she now saw he wore under his jacket. John relieved the unconscious goon of both his gun and his wallet, doing a fast, careful search of his pockets while he was at it. When John stood, she opened the door and met his gaze. Gone was the exasperation she usually saw from him. All amusement had fled as well.

  The man who looked at her was a hardened warrior. Intellectually, she’d known John was a tough guy. She’d just never seen him like this before. It was impressive, to say the least.

  He held out one hand to her and she followed his unspoken summons without thinking. She was at his side in ten steps, holding out his pack to him. He took it, then tugged her hand into his as he turned toward the exit—not the front door, but the door they’d used minutes before. He didn’t let go of her hand until they were down the alley and on the opposite street, joining the busy foot traffic prevalent in this part of town.

  He let go of her hand only to put his arm around her waist and tuck her into his side. They strolled down the street, just another tourist couple out for a stroll.

  “Where are we going?” Donna asked, trying to look nonchalant and no doubt failing.

  “The airport. This town is too hot for us right now and I think we’ve learned all we can here. While you were out stirring up trouble, one of my bugs paid off. I’ve got a location and a name that matches one of the original research team members.”

  She was astonished his methods had actually worked. “Really? Who?”

  “Dr. Elizabeth Bemkey. She’s in Tennessee right now according to what I heard.”

  He looked like the cat who’d swallowed the canary as he smiled down at her. She squelched the impulse to wipe that silly grin right off his handsome face. The man could be truly infuriating at times.

  “So we’re going to Tennessee?”

  “Looks that way. Ever been fly-fishing?”

  Chapter One

  They touched down in Tennessee after catching a connecting flight out of Houston. The plane dropped them in Nashville, about an hour and change from their destination. John rented a car and they were off. A straight shot across the state on Interstate 40, then a little trek on a state highway and they were there.

  John made good use of the time, placing a few calls and coordinating with the folks back at Fort Bragg, where their team was currently based, while Donna drove. She had a bit of a lead foot, but was competent behind the wheel. They entered White County and turned off at Cookeville, which was a larger city, where they could pick up appropriate clothing and fishing gear at one of the big chain discount stores.

  “I’ll get some fishing gear while you pick out some clothes,” he told Donna when they entered the giant store. “Get stuff for a leisurely vacation by the lake. Make sure you include darker colors for night work and a hat for daytime. If we go out on the water, the sun is going to be tough on your fair skin.”

  She had looked at him strangely when he made the observation, but thankfully hadn’t remarked upon it. John had spent all too much time lately fantasizing about her skin. Was it as soft as it looked? Would she be sensitive to his merest touch?

  Damn. He was doing it again. He shook himself and re-focused on his task. He needed the bare bones of fishing gear. Just enough to make him look like he really was going fishing. He’d made reservations at a fishing camp that was nearly next door to Dr. Bemkey’s palatial home on the lakeshore. It had been her husband’s house, and as they’d been going through a very messy divorce for the past year or more, nobody had expected her to be there. They’d sent agents to check, of course, but her husband claimed not to have seen or heard from her in quite some time. Apparently they did all their talking through their lawyers at this point.

  But according to the information he’d intercepted in San Francisco, Dr. Bemkey was not only staying in her ex-husband’s mansion, she was working from it. It was up to them to confirm the information and figure out what she was up to.

  Donna caught up with John while he was trying on vests with a few million pockets for fishing lures and tackle.

  “You look like a dork in that.” Her dryly amused voice came from behind him.

  He turned, holding his arms out so she could get a good look at the ensemble. “You think so?”

  “Oh, yeah. If you were going for the Poindexter look, you nailed it.” Her luscious lips quirked up in a half grin that he found utterly captivating.

  “Question is”—he moved closer, his voice dropping so only she could hear him—“would a young hottie like you be seen cavorting on the lake with a dork like me?” His arms slipped around her waist, but he resisted the urge to pull her against his body. He could get away with just so much in the name of their cover. If he started to grope her in the sporting goods section, it wouldn’t be to convince people they were together. No, it would all be for his own enjoyment.

  “Cavorting?” Her tone was the slightest bit breathless as her palms settled over his chest. Damn, that felt good.

  “They’re a little more old-fashioned here in Tennessee than they were in San Francisco. We’ll draw less attention if we show up as a married couple.”

  “Married?” The word whispered out of her mouth and it was all he could do to stop himself from leaning in and capturing her lips with his own.

 
; “How does Mrs. John Pettigrew sound? Close enough to my real name that it’ll be easy to remember?”

  Mutely, she nodded. Something weird was going on here. She looked utterly stunned and he was feeling more than a little odd too. He’d never been on an undercover assignment with a female operative before. Certainly not one that required them to pose as lovers. Why did this feel like so much more than a simple mission?

  “So what do you say? Is the vest too much?” He stepped back, trying to resolve the weird vibes in the air with a change of subject.

  “The camo vest with the camo hat is definitely too much.” She flipped through the rack of vests to find something in a solid color. “How about this one?” She held up a solid green vest.

  He’d automatically gone for the camo, but she was probably right. The only place he’d be wearing the vest was on the lake itself. He probably wouldn’t be traipsing through the woods in it.

  “It looks good.” He took a quick look at the size she’d picked. It would fit. He threw it in the cart with the stuff she’d picked out. He noticed she’d gotten him some things. “You bought me shirts?”

  “And shorts,” she confirmed. “If you need to go for a swim, it’s best to be prepared.” She held up a pair of board shorts that would double as swim trunks should the need arise. They were his size too.

  He shot her a suspicious look. “Have you been checking out my ass? You got all my sizes right.”

  “As if.” She flopped the shorts back into her cart. “It’s not that hard to differentiate between large and extra large, John,” she protested, but he saw the slight flush of color on her fair cheeks and was oddly flattered. “Is this stuff yours too?” She pointed to a pile of gear he’d been toting around. He hadn’t gotten a cart. He’d just been carrying the stuff.