ATONEMENT

By

Sherrill Quinn

© copyright March 2006, Sherrill Quinn

Cover art by Dan Skinner, © copyright March 2006

New Concepts Publishing

Lake Park, GA 31636

www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

CHAPTER ONE

“I’m telling you, Trelawney, people think that Hell is an infinite expanse, and it’s not. There’s a limited amount of space for a limited number of people.” The speaker strode around the small room, his long, auburn hair streaming behind him. He stopped and stared at Simon. “Do you know how many people we get every day? Have you any idea?”

Simon Trelawney shrugged and leaned against the fireplace mantle. He’d been at a loss for words from the moment his visitor had appeared, quite literally, out of thin air.

When he’d found out who his unexpected guest was, well ...

He’d known his soul was damned, but it was unsettling, even for a vampire, to have a tête-à-tête with the Devil himself.

“Well, I’ll tell you,” the fallen angel went on. “Thousands. And a vampire takes up more space than a mere mortal. We’re running out of room. That’s why I have a proposition for you. One that may keep your soul out of my realm and open up more space for lost mortals. Interested?” He watched Simon closely, dark blue eyes sparkling with--what? Duplicity? Annoyance? It was hard to tell. After all, he was the ultimate trickster.

“How is that possible?” Simon straightened from his slouched position against the fireplace and propped one fist on his hip. “My soul was condemned when I became one of the undead. What can you possibly do for me that God cannot?” He hardly dared to hope that what Lucifer offered was legitimate. But, to redeem his soul...!

“Ah, but is it that God cannot? Or that He will not?” the Deceiver asked in a silk-laden voice. “Is there any soul beyond His redemptive power?”

He glided forward and touched his hand to Simon’s shoulder. “Let me explain my plan, then you can decide if you would like to take advantage of this opportunity for atonement.”

Simon backed up a few steps. Crossing his arms over his chest, he gave a brief nod, careful not to cause offense. This was his first dealing with the Prince of Darkness, but he’d heard from others of his kind what Lucifer did to those who crossed him. “Fine,” Simon murmured. “Tell me your proposition.”

The other being offered a beguiling, crafty smile. “It’s really quite simple. Your very nature is that of a killer, a beast of prey. My proposition is this. You protect one innocent from her untimely death and your condemnation will be reversed. Your place in Heaven will be assured.” He stopped, waiting for Simon’s response.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Simon scoffed, the stirrings of anger overriding his curiosity and cautious hope. “You must think I’m a fool to believe it would be that easy.”

Eyebrows rose over glittering blue eyes. “Oh, I didn’t say it would be easy. Simple, yes. Easy? On the contrary. For you must face your oldest, most brutish nemesis in order to win the prize.”

“You can’t mean ... Jack.”

“Yes, Jack. You must prevent him from taking another life.”

Simon sat abruptly in the chair behind him, his entire body shaking with anger, hatred, and fear. Yes, fear. For this enemy who preyed on females was the monster who had killed his mother, the last of his Whitechapel victims, nearly a hundred and twenty years before.

But he’d not been content with devastating Simon’s life before he was a year old. No, the fiend had hunted him down and irrevocably taken his life away on his thirtieth birthday, turning him into the same damnable creature as he. “Who’s his next victim?”

“You have obviously mistaken me for the Other Guy, Trelawney. I’m not omniscient.”

Simon sighed, losing patience with the double talk, Devil or no. “Believe me, I don’t think you’re God. Sorry if that offends you. But you can find Jack, and you would know his thoughts. Why can’t you find out the identity of who he’s stalking by just tapping into his mind?”

“Did I say this was going to be easy for you? No, I believe we’ve already covered that.” Sarcasm dripped from each evenly spaced word. “If you want redemption, you’re going to have to work for it. I will help ... pave the way once you’ve discovered her identity, but the discovery itself is up to you. That’s my deal.”

Simon pursed his lips, realizing there was a very clear “take it or leave it” hanging there, unspoken. Dare he trust Lucifer, the Father of Lies?

Dare he not?

But to do so, he would have to face down his most hated adversary, the most infamous murderer of the nineteenth century.

Jack the Ripper.

* * * *

Tessa watched the two men enter the elevator. She stood silently, uneasy of being the lone female in close, boxed-in proximity to strangers, especially after dark in an all but deserted building. She glanced at them surreptitiously and moved a little further away, careful to stay out of the corner.

Both men were tall and powerfully built with tailored charcoal-gray suits accentuating their muscular frames. The man closest to her had thick, dark hair with silky strands falling over his forehead and curling over the collar of his expensive suit. Heavy brows slashed above deep-set green eyes that stared straight at her. His nose was a little large, almost hawkish, and dominated sensuous lips and cleft chin. His strong jaw was shadowed blue-black with stubble that gave his face a hard edge.

A real tough guy.

What would it be like, she wondered, to feel his heavy weight on top of her, his hard, thick cock impaling her until she howled with ecstasy? She felt her pussy flood with cream and shifted her weight, trying to relieve the sensation.

Tessa realized he stared at her, one brow cocked over knowing eyes. She felt her cheeks heat, but couldn’t look away from that piercing emerald gaze. She ran her tongue over suddenly dry lips and swallowed as those eyes narrowed on her mouth. She was filled with a nearly overpowering urge to wrap herself around this man and kiss him silly.

She had never felt this kind of instant attraction before. Oh, she could appreciate male beauty as much as the next woman but she’d just never been so tempted to jump a guy’s bones.

Or, at least, one particular bone.

Her gaze drifted down at that thought and she swallowed again. The heavy outline of his erection was visible through the crisp material of his pants. Oh, man. She wasn’t usually the type of girl who went down on a strange man in an elevator, but looking at the way his cock lengthened under his pants, boy, oh, boy was she tempted. There had to be at least eight inches there, more than she could take into her mouth, but she sure was willing to give it the ol’ college try.

Her gaze shot back to his face. His nostrils flared as if he knew the direction her thoughts had taken and his muscular body shifted slightly toward her. Tessa realized she was putting herself in a rather risky position and broke eye contact with this sexy beast by glancing at the other man.

He was ... Beautiful was the only word she could come up with. Like Michelangelo’s David. Or Adonis. Long, auburn hair fell nearly to his waist and glittered in the light as if stars were caught in the dark strands. His features were perfectly symmetrical, from his evenly spaced eyes to his gorgeous lips. Startling blue eyes fixed on her with an unwavering stare.

The back of her neck prickled and she knew the other man continued to stare at her. She felt her pussy clench and ground her teeth together to hold back a moan. If she could get this turned on by just thinking about sex ... she really needed to get laid.

Relieved when the elevator stopped at her floor and the doors swooshed open, she hurriedly exited, practically power-walking down the hallway. While neither man had made any threat, she couldn’t shake the feeling that they were up to no good and she wanted to get as much distance between her and them as fast as possible.

Tessa shook her head. Just turned thirty and she was getting paranoid. They were probably two businessmen coming back from a late supper. Two stunningly gorgeous businessmen, but businessmen nonetheless. With a last wistful memory of clear green eyes, she tamped down a restless sense of disappointment and turned the corner, walking down the hall toward her office. She still felt a thrill of pride when she saw the lettering on the frosted glass door. T. A. Long Investigations.

“You’ve come a long way, baby,” she muttered, grinning. The key slipped easily in the lock and she pushed open the door. Kicking it closed with her foot, she dumped her purse and briefcase on her assistant’s desk and took off her coat. Reaching for a metal hanger, she stiffened when she felt someone behind her.

Abruptly, she jabbed her arm back and jumped to her right, knowing whose hard abdomen her sharp elbow had just contacted. She pivoted to face the men from the elevator. “Who are you and what do you want?” She straightened the neck of the hanger, turning it into a weapon.

Well, the best one she could come up with on short notice. She didn’t carry a gun. She should definitely rethink that decision.

“Please, miss, you have no need to be frightened of us, I assure you.” Adonis stepped forward and gave her an old-fashioned from-the-waist bow. He smiled, drawing her eyes to the deep dimples that dented his chiseled cheeks. “We merely wish to speak to you about your most recent client. I believe he is calling himself Jack Rippert?”

“I don’t talk about my clients.” This charming, oh-so-handsome man didn’t fool her, even if she was a sucker for a man with dimples. In her line of work, she’d learned the hard way that some of the best-looking men were the deadliest.

“Of course not, my dear. It’s just that, well, we have some rather distressing news about him. Information that may change your mind about keeping him as a client.”

When she didn’t respond, the dark-haired man stepped a little closer, ignoring her not-so-threatening gesture with the hanger. He ran a large hand through his hair. “I told you this wouldn’t work,” he muttered to his companion. “He’s too slick.” His frustrated tone was deep and sexy, with a slight inflection that brought to mind double-decker busses, Big Ben, and fish and chips.

And writhing, tangled bodies joined on silken sheets. Tessa bit her lip and clenched her thighs against the wave of lust that rolled through her, wetting her panties and tightening her nipples so that even the silk of her bra was sensual torture.

“Ah, Trelawney, don’t give up,” the other man murmured. He, too, moved closer to Tessa.

She tightened her grip on the metal hanger, ready to lash out. Suddenly, it vanished from her grasp. “What...?” she gasped, backing away from the two men.

What the hell! Something weird was going on and she didn’t want any part of it. While she was just as daring as the next person, she wasn’t stupid. “I don’t know who you are, or what you want, just get out. Get out!” she demanded a little shrilly when the tough guy moved closer.

“We’re not here to hurt you. We’re here to save you from him. For the love of--” He broke off, following her when she ran toward the inner office.

Tessa slammed the door and locked it, then shoved a chair underneath the knob. That should keep them out, for a little while at least. Long enough for her to call the police. She turned to go to the phone on her desk and stopped, her breath catching in her fear-tightened throat.

Both men stood in front of the desk, watching her with equally intent eyes. Blue and green, like two different depths of the same ocean. One gaze calculating and mesmerizing, the other holding frustration layered with distinct masculine arousal.

Turning, she frantically tried to move the chair, sobbing, fighting hysteria. She’d be of no help to herself if she lost control. How they had gotten into a locked room was beyond her, and she didn’t particularly care at the moment. She just had ... to ... get ... out.

Screaming at a touch on her shoulders, she lashed out with elbows and feet, using every trick her self-defense instructor had taught her. Tessa brought her heel down on his instep, hard, and heard him gasp in pain. Smiling grimly, she thrust her elbow back into his firm stomach and heard his breath whoosh out of him at the jab.

Muscular arms wrapped around her, grabbing her hands, trapping her folded arms with surprising gentleness against her chest. She kicked backward, her heel connecting with his shinbone, and heard a few grunts over her own labored breathing. She kept kicking, he kept grunting, but the unyielding hold didn’t break. Finally, exhausted, she slumped in his arms.