CHAPTER ONE

T he Sin Lounge was bouncing with activity, and business was brisk. Alistar Quinn was working behind the bar, something he did often. It allowed him to relax and let go of the day or week's activities. He loved working the weekends, as the clientele was always prime and ready for anything.

He had his eye on several possibilities among the thongs of gorgeous men, but then he saw Von coming towards him, and he was wearing a serious look. Von Hale was his superior and handler. He obviously had a job to do, so fun and relaxation would have to wait. Alistar's weekend was over.

Alistar functioned outside the normal workings of Agincourt and the Kilconnor Coven. He was considered a ghost, a shadow, a fixer, and someone who quickly and quietly took care of problems. He didn't have a formal title or position, but he held status and answered only to Master Elan Kilconnor, second-in-command Sloan Dobre, and Commander Von Hale. They were the leaders of Agincourt Bank and the leaders of the Coven.

"There is a situation that needs your attention Alistar." Von stated as Alistar handed him his particular brand of beer. Von wasn't into hard liquor, but he loved a stout beer especially the imports. He handed Alistar a flash drive. "Everything you need is on there." Alistar stuck it in his pocket.

"Time frame?" He asked.

"Immediate." Von didn't use that stipulation often. Alistar turned and spoke to Danny, who was working the bar with him and then left without any further discussion.

"Neal Shawn, my name is Neal Shawn." Neal was trying to make his request understood but the guy on the phone was being deliberately obtuse. He wasn't even trying to hear him or understand. "I'm personal assistant to Mrs. Reginald Ball and she requires the silver gown that was dropped off yesterday."

"We're closed." The guy barked but didn't hang up as Neal expected. He got the sense that the guy was playing with him.

"Mrs. Reginald Ball wants her dress. Do you know who she is? If you know the name, then you know that she gets what she wants." Neal knew that the guy was aware of the clout the Ball name held, but he was just being a dick about it.

"We called earlier and said the dress was ready, and no one showed up, so she will get her dress tomorrow." Neal received no such call, but arguing that point would not get him the dress, he ignored it and continued pressing the power and influence of Mrs. Ball.

"What is your name?" Neal demanded. "I need to let her know the name of the man responsible for her not getting what she wanted. The man who deliberately denied her the dress." There was silence for a moment, and then someone else took the phone. He wasn't certain, but he thought he heard laughing. The fucking bastards.

"If you come immediately I will open and give you Mrs. Ball's garment." The new man told him and then added. "I will wait thirty minutes if you do not show, you can pick it up tomorrow." With that the guy hung up. Thank goodness things seemed to finally be working out and maybe he wouldn't be fired. Neal gave a long sigh and jumped to his feet and rushed out the door.

Mrs. Ball, Franchesca Ball had threatened to sack him if he did not get her that dress. She wanted to wear it to a dinner party that evening, and apparently, no other dress would do. He'd apparently somehow missed the call from the dry cleaners, and that had absolutely enraged Franchesca. It was just a dress, for fuck sake, but she went crazy at the thought of not wearing it to the party.

It wasn't even particularly attractive or flattering, but it was an exclusive designer that cost her husband many thousands of dollars. Whatever the reason, she was adamant that if Neal did not retrieve the dress, then he would be fired. She didn't joke about her threats, which were solid. If he didn't get the dress, he didn't need to bother showing up for work in the morning.

He drove through town exceeding the speed limit but felt justified since he couldn't lose this job. He was living paycheck to paycheck and didn't have any savings to fall back on. He didn't have time to look for another job and would have to lean on his brother Byron for help.

This scare made it clear he had to find more stable employment, but for now, he needed to keep this job, and that meant getting the dress and getting it to her on time. Tomorrow, he will start sending out his resume.

Neal pulled up to the curb in front of the dry cleaner, hurriedly jumped out, and ran to the door. He pulled the handle, and it did not move; the door was locked. He checked his watch, and it had only been nineteen minutes since he hung up from the call. He frantically pulled on the handle again and again and then cupped his hands on the sides of his face and tried to look through the large plate glass windows. It was dark inside, but there was a light by the counter, and he could see movement, but no one responded to his knocking.

There was considerable movement, and he could see that there were people inside. Neal pounded on the window, demanding attention, and then he got it. The scene, which moments before had been simple shadows and light, became starkly, terrifyingly clear.

Neal stood frozen to the spot watching the action play out in front of his eyes. They were monsters teeth like sharks faces out of a horror movie and blood so much blood. It was a battle, and they looked inhuman. Shock froze him momentarily as his mind tried to catch up with his eyes.

"What the fuck?" He muttered nervously, and then he locked gazes with a pair of dark eyes that seemed to pierce through his soul. The vision was visceral. He felt it right at his center, and he could not look away. He was captive.

Fear crawled up his spine, and he began to shake with the realization that his life was, very likely, about to end. Whatever was happening was ugly and violent, and it looked like people were dying. He tore his eyes away just as the interior of the shop burst into flames.

He turned and ran to his car anxiously, started the engine, and pulled away, driving fast and erratically. He swerved around the road as his eyes kept glancing at the rearview mirror, trying to see if he was being chased. The man had seen his face and probably his car, and he would come for him. Neal's mind spiraled, running through all the horrible possibilities that lay ahead of him. His heart was pounding, and his breath was shallow, causing him to become lightheaded.

"Get your shit together." He chastised himself and noticed that his hands were shaking on the wheel. All thoughts of Mrs. Ball, her dress, and his job fled his mind as he focused on survival.

Thankfully, he reached his apartment complex and parked away from the lights under some tree cover. It was the best he could do as far as hiding his car. All he could think about was getting inside behind locked doors and hiding. Being in the open was scaring the shit out of him.

It wasn't long before he was in his apartment with the drapes closed and the lights out. He sat on the floor between his bed and the wall and tried to catch his breath. Fear was consuming him, and he knew he needed to call the police, but he was too afraid to move.

Finally, his need to do the right thing overwhelmed his trembling horror and he called and made an anonymous report that there was a fire at the drycleaner. He didn't go into detail about what he'd witnessed he was sure they would figure it out when they got there.

The silence and the darkness around him did not give him comfort and he began to second guess his hiding place. He needed to be more concealed so grabbed his phone and scooted across the floor to the closet. He got in closing the door behind him.

Alistar finished two of the rogues but two had escaped and would need to be tracked down. Four rogues working together was unusual they tended to be solitary operators. The young man pounding on the window caused enough distraction that two had escaped, but they would be found rogues tended to stand out.

He set the business on fire, a hot, cleansing blaze that would completely consume the bodies of the rogues, leaving nothing behind. With that taken care of, he went in search of the handsome little man he'd seen through the window. He was human, and he saw too much, so a mind wipe would be necessary.

He left the building just as he heard sirens coming his way. Swift and stealthy, he ducked into the shadows and made his way north. He did a quick search of the license plate and came up with the name Neal Shawn, and his address was a few blocks away. He would take care of Neal and then go after the rogues.

Too bad they had to meet under such difficult circumstances which made further contact unlikely. He found the man absolutely delicious big eyes, full lips slender build all his favorites. He would love the opportunity to get to know him every inch of him. He smiled at the salacious thought and pulled into the parking area of the Milton Apartments complex. Neal Shawn lived on the fourth floor in room 427 and his car was in the lot.

The place had several cameras, but they were avoidable, and the main door lock was a keypad which was easy to override. Alistar was promptly inside and taking the stairs rather than the elevator. Nice place plain but functional and clean.

He wondered about the young man and just how scared he was at the moment. Alistar planned to make it quick and be out of his life leaving him with no memory of the chaos he witnessed. In a few minutes, he would be living his life easy and carefree and Alistar took solace in that fact since he was about to frighten the life out of the poor man.

Approaching the door to number 427, he noticed it was another easy keypad entrance and was careful to be as quiet as possible, not wanting the police or neighbors to be alerted. He didn't want to have to spend the rest of the night wiping memories.

Neal tensed when he heard what he thought was a floorboard creaking in the living room. It might have been the product of his frightened imagination, so he listened more closely, and his heart dropped when he heard it again. Someone was in his apartment.

His heart tightened, his breath caught in his throat, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Panic was eating him alive as he struggled to remain still and quiet while tucked into the back corner of his closet, hidden behind an array of clothing.

The movement continued to get closer, and his bedroom door opened slowly, and someone stepped in. Silence ensued for at least a full minute before he heard them approach the closet. The flimsy door opened, and a man stood there in shadow, obviously staring down at him.

Neal continued to hold his breath as the man crouched down and reached his hand out towards him. The moment their eyes met he recognized him. He had been inside the drycleaner he was the man who saw him.

Neal looked at the hand and at the man and then back to the hand, wondering why he was asking and not just shooting him dead on the spot or dragging him from the closet. Without a word spoken, Neal took the hand and allowed the stranger to help him get to his feet and out of the closet. They stood there in Neal's darkened bedroom, just breathing and looking at one another. Then the guy winked, and Neal gasped.

"Are you going to kill me?" Neal's voice shook so badly he could barely get the words out.

"No, definitely not." The man said way too calmly and stuck out his hand once again. "My name is Alistar Quinn." Neal wasn't sure why, but he took the hand.

"I'm Neal."

"Pleased to meet you Neal." His voice was so deep it was actually rather sexy and if the circumstances were different Neal would be appreciating the attention.

"I'd say the same, but I really do think you're going to kill me." Neal was being casually sarcastic with a man he just saw bloodying up the inside of his local drycleaners and then set it on fire. He must be losing his mind. There was no escape. He was completely at the man's mercy, and considering what he saw at the dry cleaner, mercy was not his strong point.

"I'm not going to hurt you." Neal wanted to believe that but the way things were stacking up showed the truth to be something different. The man released his hand and nonchalantly put his arm around Neal's shoulders. He was tall a good head taller than Neal and he was strong with big hands a muscular build and solid as a brick wall. He was dangerous and Neal did not have a prayer.