Kissing Sin (34 page)

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Given your record with cars, I do not think that advisable.”

“Have I ever crashed a Directorate car?”

“No, but—”

“Then let me take one. We can’t afford to presume these people have stopped watching me—or at least, stopped watching the Rocker. With Gautier on their payroll, they probably know the profile of every Directorate employee. They see any of them arrive at the Rocker with me, they’ll suspect it’s me, disguise or no.”

Jack’s green eyes narrowed slightly, like he knew I was up to something. Given we’d been working together a long time now, that was entirely possible. But my shields were strong enough to keep him out of my mind, so he couldn’t check and be sure.

“All right,” he said eventually. “But when the session with Misha is over, you come straight back here. No detours.”

“Deal,” I agreed, without qualms. After all, the detour I planned was before my date with Misha, not after.

Jack’s frown deepened, but he rose and said, “Let’s go,” then walked out of the room.

Kade followed. Rhoan stopped by my chair and swooped to kiss my forehead. “Be careful.”

“You too.”

“I’m not walking into the enemy’s boudoir.” He squeezed my arm. “Just remember, keep aware even when you’re having fun.”

“Stop worrying, and just go do your job.”

“It’s a brother’s task to worry about his little sister.” He cast a glance Quinn’s way, then murmured, “Remember, too, that some sweets, however delicious, can be bad for long-term peace of mind.”

“I remember. Now mind your own business and get moving.”

He grinned, dropped another kiss on my forehead, then added, “Liander left some wigs and colored lenses if you want to play around with your look. Just promise me you’ll keep out of sight when you go into that restaurant.”

I grinned. Rhoan didn’t need to be psychic to know what I planned—he knew, simply because it was exactly what
he’d
do. “That I promise.”

“Good.” He kissed me a third time—three times for luck, as we always said—then pushed away from the chair and left.

Which left me with the moody Quinn. Joy, oh joy.

“We have a conversation to finish,” he said, the moment we were alone.

I untucked my legs and walked across to the water dispenser. “I’ve said all I have to say.”

“Then tell me why you fucked Kellen last night. Was it just to get back at me?”

I snorted softly as I filled the little plastic cup. “Quinn, I like you and all, but you seriously need to get over this jealousy thing. Especially when you have no right to it.”

“So is that a yes?”

“It’s a no. I fucked him because I wanted to, because he was hot, and because I wanted him to answer some questions afterward. Which he did.” I took a sip of water and turned around, meeting his stormy gaze. “Kellen was well aware that I came to the event with you, mind. I believe he took great delight in the fact that he took me from you.”

“And you intend to see him again?”

“Lots of times. And if you don’t like that fact, walk away now. It’s not worth the angst to either of us.”

Quinn didn’t react. “A vampire never walks away from what he considers his.” His midnight gaze burned into mine, touching something deep inside, making it quiver, dance. But whether it was joy or fear, I couldn’t entirely tell. “I cannot, and will not, walk away. Nor will I let you. And if that means having to put up with you fucking a hundred different wolves, then so be it. What lies between us is worth exploring, and you
will
hold to the bargain we made.”

I raised my eyebrows. “That almost sounded like a threat.”

“Take it any damn way you please.”

“Threat then. So my next question has to be, or what?”

He was still giving me his vampire look, but underneath it, I had a sense of turmoil. Frustration. “You don’t want to know.”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know.”

He hesitated. “I have the power to force you to do certain things.”

I stared at him, not sure I’d heard him right. Not wanting to believe I’d heard him right. “What?”

His gaze was uncompromising. “We shared blood. That gives me the power to enforce certain actions on you.”

“Another thing you forgot to mention when the blood sharing happened.” My voice was flat, calm, totally belying the anger that burned deep.

“You were mad with moon fever at the time. Do you really think you would have refused my blood even if I’d taken the time to explain the consequences?”

“No, but you could have warned me afterward.” Forewarned is forearmed. Though in this case, I very much suspected being forearmed wouldn’t matter a damn.

“Have I yet tried to curtail any of your actions?”

I gave a harsh laugh. “No. Doesn’t mean you won’t in the future though.”

“I won’t.”

“And would I even know if you did?” He didn’t answer and I shook my head. “You know what you’ve done, don’t you? With that one little threat, you’ve put yourself into an entirely different category in my eyes.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’ve just leapt into the basket that contains the men who are using me for their own ends.”

“Dammit, Riley, you know—”

“What I know,” I cut in harshly, “is that of the three men I’m currently dancing with, Kade is the
only
one who has shown me any sort of companionship and caring outside the realms of sex. Do you want to know what he did for me today? He took me to a mare’s place, ran me a bath, washed my hair, then he tucked me into bed, and left me alone. He looked after me, pampered me, because he damn well knew I needed it. What have you done, except reluctantly accept the sex and blood you desperately needed? Oh, and make demands, or raid my mind?”

He raised an eyebrow. “So what is it you’re telling me? That I need to pamper you, romance you, to win your heart?”

“It would certainly be a damn better place to start than calling me a whore, or using threats.” I blew out a breath. “Like the song says, ‘Girls Just Want to Have Fun.’”

The somewhat disdainful look he gave me suggested he wasn’t a fan of old-time pop music—or maybe he’d simply cruised through that era with earmuffs on, and had no idea what I was on about. I added, “Look, I offered the agreement, and I’ll stick to it if you’re going to get nasty about it. But just don’t go expecting anything more serious than a good time. I won’t play us one on one, Quinn. I can’t afford to.”

“All I’m expecting is the chance.”

“Then you have it. But I’m warning you now—you try and force me into
anything
and that will be the end of us. I’ll find a way around that order of yours, and I’ll walk away. I will not be abused like that. I’m a wolf, not a whore.”

“It is not abuse—”

“Then what else do you call forcing someone to do something against their will?”

“In this case, common sense.”

“Force is force, regardless of the reason. Don’t ever try it on me, Quinn. Not ever.”

He didn’t answer, and I just got the hell out of the room.

Chapter 11

D
usk had come and gone, and the night was cold. The wind blustered around me, its touch icy, as if it had come directly from the Antarctic. Shivering, I rubbed my arms, and wished I’d put on something warmer than a long-sleeved cotton top. At least I could be thankful I’d chosen jeans and sneakers rather than the skirt and sandals I’d originally intended. But what I wasn’t thankful for was the premonition that had told me I’d need something tougher—that a skirt and sandals wasn’t up to what I had to do tonight.

I didn’t want another psychic talent—especially one that popped in whenever it pleased. But that same intuition said my choice in this mattered as little as my choice in other areas of my life. I was becoming something more than just a dhampire. What that something was, not even a blossoming new talent could tell. One thing was certain—I wasn’t about to let Jack know. Not until I was totally sure this clairvoyance thing was a developing talent, and not some weird mutation of the fear that sat like a weight in my gut.

The restaurant came into sight across the other side of the road. I paused, gaze raking the old, Victorian-style building, searching for a glimpse of my quarry in the corner windows. Only one woman sat alone, and she was positioned at the far end of the building.

After looking around to ensure no one was near or watching, I wrapped myself in shadows and moved toward the foreshore. Streetlights cast pools of yellow across the empty pavement, and the headlights of passing cars ran across the nearby darkness, threatening to tear the shadows from my side. I stashed my clothes and shifted shape, released the veil of darkness, and in wolf form wove my way through the scrubby tea trees until I was directly opposite the window in which the lone woman sat.

She was nothing special—dark hair cut into a severe bob, a roman nose that was accentuated by a gold ring, and a large, almost manly chin. Her hands, clasped in front of her on the table, also looked more male than female. The man who’d been Mrs. Hunt hadn’t been the image of female perfection, either. Was that a telltale sign of shifters who could take either male or female form?

I sat on my haunches, and wondered what the time was. It had been close to eight when I’d parked the car, and it had probably taken me five minutes or so to walk here. But if the woman at that table was worried by Roberta Whitby’s lateness, it wasn’t showing yet.

The wind shook the branches of the trees around me, showering the ground and me with tiny gray-green leaves. I was about to shake them from my fur when I caught two sounds—the first, a twig snapping lightly. The second, the brush of nylon against sharp leaves.

Someone was sneaking through the trees, headed my way.

I flicked my ears forward, but otherwise didn’t move. Given the darkness and the gnarled trunks that surrounded me, it was unlikely that even the red of my coat would be seen. Besides, whoever was sneaking up ahead was human—or at least, in human form—and most humans took no notice of a dog, especially if it wasn’t moving or threatening. Even if it
was
a wolf up ahead, the wind was in my favor, carrying my scent toward the ocean rather than the stranger.

Oddly enough, it didn’t offer me the stranger’s scent, carrying no more than the night, the ocean, and the multiple layers that spoke of the nearby restaurants, shops, and exhaust fumes.

If he was so close that I could hear him, I should certainly have been able to smell him. Unless, of course, he had no scent.

Hackles rose at the thought. Everyone had a scent—unless it had been deliberately erased.

No more careless sounds rode the wind. The man up ahead—though why I was so sure it was a man I had no idea—had either stopped moving or disappeared. Why was he sneaking through these trees? Was he spying, surveying the area like me, or were his intentions altogether darker?

I wanted to move, but with all the crap on the ground, he’d hear me. But if I wanted to find out what was going on, what he was doing, then I might have to take the chance.

Sound whispered along the wind, cutting off the thought. Something scraped lightly against nylon again, and a second later, the unmistakable click of a safety coming off a gun.

The fear in my gut crystallized.

The woman waiting for Roberta Whitby was about to get shot. I leapt to all fours, but it was already far too late to do anything to save that woman.

A muffled report rode the wind. My gaze shot to the window. It shattered. The woman with the roman nose jerked, then slumped forward onto the table.

Dead.

And so was my chance at answers if I didn’t move right away.

But as much as I wanted to charge in and attack, I knew such actions would earn me nothing more than a bullet. I had no idea who—or what—was ahead, but the mere fact he had no scent suggested that he was either a professional hit man or another of those creatures from the labs.

I looked ahead, judging the length of spring needed to clear all the clutter under the trees. Then I crouched and launched forward, clearing the undergrowth with inches to spare.

I’d barely landed when the sense of someone approaching had the hackles along the back of my neck rising. I looked over my shoulder. Only cars could be seen moving through the night—yet something
unseen
was there, crossing the road, approaching faster than the wind itself.

A vampire.

Jack had said he’d have people here, so it was more than likely a guardian.

And if that guardian saw me and reported my presence back to Jack, I’d be in deep shit. But I resisted the urge to throw my shields to full and disappear into shadow. That would only be asking for a deeper inspection. The approaching vampire had to believe I was nothing more than a wolfy-looking dog, and to achieve that, I had to let him skim surface thoughts.

So I blanked everything from my mind, lowered a shield, and thought of nothing more than the thrill of hunting the scent of cat, then stuck my nose to the ground and sniffed around. After a second or two, I actually did catch the spoor of a cat, and my wolf soul stirred excitedly. I trotted along, following the trail while keeping an eye in the shooter’s general direction.