Shades (5)

He had lost his prize. Now, surrounded by the enemy, doom whispered Ivan's name. Again. The man rolled onto his back in defeat, beneath the bed, waiting for the inevitable discovery.

A weight crawled with soundless stealth on top of him. The heat of another body spread up along his own. Ivan bit his tongue.

Engulfed in the scent of damp roses, he could see nothing, but knew the woman covered as much of him as her trembling body could manage. He felt her hair surround him. Adrenaline shuddered through them both when the bed skirt was moved aside by the barrel of a gun to check below.

The man glimpsed his shades on the carpet before he was blinded by the flashlights. Shit! "They really are defective," said a voice. "Look, the sensor's going crazy."

"There's nothing here, but a corpse," replied another as flashlights swept the underside of the bed once more. "Ew! Juicy, too." Disgust dripped off the words. Sounds of retching reached Ivan's ears from farther down the hall.

"Did you find the glock?"

"No."

"It's got to be here. Sarge couldn't lie about that."

"Wouldn't be the first time someone planted false images."

"She's not that good!"

"Why would she risk that? Maybe the ghost took it."

"Shut up! I hate ghosts! Let's get out of here. This place gives me the creeps."

Ivan lay still long after the footsteps retreated. He was not sure how to disentangle himself from this odd position. He wasn't quite sure he actually wanted to move at all. "You're still alive, right?" her breath on his cheek sent shock waves down to his toes.

"Fine," he croaked.

"Good!" She started to move.

Ivan's hands circled her waist, staying the motions of her hips. "Don't!" his voice nearly shattered with the tension of that command.