Moon Sworn (Riley Jenson Guardian 9)

So much for hope. I stared at him for a moment, mouth drier than the Simpson Desert. "Is that a threat?"

He returned my stare, his green eyes showing little in the way of compassion. Not giving in, not giving up. "No. I'm merely stating your options. They haven't changed. They will never change." He paused. "The military has been keeping an eye on you."

I clenched my fists and battled to remain calm - battled not to show the fear clawing away at my insides. Which was useless, given that he was a vampire and would sense it regardless. He couldn't help it when my pulse was racing at a million miles an hour.

"You can't make me do either," I said, an edge creeping into my voice was that was part fury, part fear. "I'll fight you, I'll fight the Directorate, I'll even fight the entire Australian military if I have to."

"Riley," he said softly. "You may be a strong telepath, but so am I, and so is Director Hunter."

"And so is Quinn," I retorted. "Do not think I'll be alone in any battle." Because if he tried anything like that, he'd not only lose me, but Quinn, Rhoan, and Dia, as well.

And he knew it. The frustrated anger that just about fried my skin said as much.

"What about a compromise?" I said, desperately battling the urge to cross my fingers. To pray to the gods I didn't believe in.

"What kind of compromise?"

"You have specialist consultants on the books. Dia's one. Why can't I be another?"

"Meaning," he said slowly, "you'd be willing to come to murder scenes whenever required, to talk to souls?"

"Yes." I wouldn't like it, but I'd do it if it meant not having to risk life and limb every single day of my life as a guardian.

He studied me for a moment, as if judging my seriousness, then said, "That is a risk in itself. We both know that."

Yes, talking to souls was a risk. They could drain me to the point that I might not be strong enough to get back from their realms. But the key here was finding a solution that suited us both - and offsetting a greater risk for a smaller one was one of those.

"It's the lesser of two evils, Jack, and it gives us both something we want." And it gave me the chance of an almost normal life. It gave me the ability to raise Liander and my babies and be a steady, regular influence in their lives.

He studied me for several more - very long - minutes, then a small smile touched his lips. "I knew this was coming. Especially given you've found your own replacement."

Hope bubbled through me, but I stamped down on it. Hard. I knew fate well enough not to trust her so easily.

"Is that a yes?"

"It's more an 'I could live with a deal like that.'" He hesitated and studied me grimly. "Which is not to say that Director Hunter will."

"But you'll support the idea in principle?"

"Riley, I am many things, but I am not stupid. And I do not want to destroy what is left of the daytime division." He smiled grimly, then added, "Nor do I wish to go to war with a man who was the finest cazador the council ever produced."

I let go a whoop they would surely have heard in Sydney, then leapt forward, throwing myself into Jack's arms. He caught me with a grunt, but his laughter ran all around me.

"Don't get your hopes too high. As I said, it'll still have to go before Director Hunter for final approval."

"I know, I know." But if Jack approved it, that was three-quarters of the battle. The Directorate might be his sister's, but the guardian division was his.

"Then untangle your arms from around my neck and go help your brother clean up the house. Consider it your last official duty as a guardian." He hesitated, green eyes suddenly serious. "Unless, of course, you want official status when you confront the bastard who kidnapped you."

I stepped back, my joy suddenly tempered. "We're going to do it on Jenson lands. Pack law will apply."

He half nodded. "It still won't hurt to have the Directorate behind you. After all, he kidnapped Evin and his mate, kidnapped and mind-washed you, and damn near killed Quinn. His death is slated. So, if you like, that can be your last official task."

"And it doesn't matter which way I choose to apply it?"

"I don't give a damn, as long as the bastard dies."

"He will. He has to."