He hung up. Quinn put the phone back in my bag, then said, "So where do you intend taking him?"
"I'll worry about that once I get him out."
He considered me for a moment, the heat that had been so evident in his eyes moments before totally gone. "I could fly him up to Sydney and have him checked there. They certainly wouldn't expect that."
No, they wouldn't. But I wasn't about to let Quinn loose with my brother - not when I didn't know if I could trust him. Not when I'd been attacked, and now Jack. Okay, so he'd been attacked too, but it all still seemed just a little too convenient. Just because Jack trusted him didn't mean I had to. Hell, how could I even be sure if Quinn had pulled that camera off my shooter? What if it was just an attempt to gain my trust?
Though what would the point of that be, when, as he'd already said, if he intended me harm, he could well and truly have done it already?
I worried my bottom lip for a moment, then said, "I don't know if that's wise. After all, whoever is behind this made an attempt on your life, as well."
"We don't know if that's connected."
I snorted. "So it's just a coincidence that my shooter and your attackers happened to be genetically engineered clones? Give me some credit for intelligence."
He grimaced. "I'm sorry. But Rhoan needs to be checked. We can't take him to a hospital here because we can't be certain how far this thing extends. You can't take him to the Directorate for the same reason. So our next best option would be to take one of my private planes to my labs in Sydney and have him checked there. Besides, Melbourne is not a safe place for you to be if they're trying to get rid of everyone involved in this investigation."
"I'm not involved. I'm just rescuing Rhoan."
"That shooter makes you involved, whether you want to be or not."
A gate to the right of us creaked open. I looked sideways. A brown-skinned man appeared, the hunger in him thick and sharp. A werecreature of some kind, though he didn't feel like a wolf
"He's wearing a guard's uniform," I noted softly, looking back at Quinn. "Could be the opportunity we want."
"Could be." He reached into the glove box and withdrew some thick tape. He tore off two pieces and handed them to me. "You think you can get him through those gates and keep him distracted long enough for me to get in there?"
I stuck the tape to my palm. "I'll try. Make sure you drive off like a rejected customer."
He nodded. "Once we get Rhoan, we'll take him straight to Essendon airport. I have a plane there that could be ready in the hour."
He seemed pretty damn determined to get Rhoan to Sydney, and that only made me more convinced it was better to do the exact opposite. I didn't answer and pushed away from the car. Quinn planted his foot and the car took off with a squeal of rubber
I strolled leisurely toward the guard. He was tall, broadly built, and muscular - very desirable, until you looked into his eyes. They were brown, and held no humanity at all. Just hunger and death
The heat of his aura hit me a heartbeat later. The moon heat surged in response, leaving me breathless, hot, yet very uneasy. There was an undercurrent of brutality in what he was projecting, and I very much suspected that sex with this man would not be pleasant... maybe not even survivable
"Are you werecreature?" The guard's voice was gruff with the urgency I could feel vibrating through him
"My mother was wolf."
His gaze slithered downward, coming to an abrupt halt where my nipples poked through the shirt. "That explains the heat I feel from you."
I shrugged. "If you hunger, there's a cost."
He smirked. "How about we do a deal?"
I raised an eyebrow. "What sort of deal?"
"I won't report your activities here to the cops and, in return, you mate with me and my buddy."
Christ, there were two of them. Just what I needed with the moon burning in the night sky
I pursed my lips, pretending to consider the proposal. After a moment, I said, "Not here. Is there somewhere more... intimate we could go?"
He grinned, gave the camera a thumbs-up, then motioned me to follow him. As I walked through the first gate, I slid a piece of the tape across the magnetic lock. A second later, the guard caught my hand and pulled me roughly toward him. My heart started hammering and I barely resisted the instinct to deck him. But only because the surge of his desire suggested his actions were born of hunger rather than suspicion
He pressed me close. His body felt on fire, and, like the Gautier clones, he smelled faintly of mint and musk and freshly turned earth. Did that mean he, too, was a clone? Or was he something else completely different? Perhaps another of those lab-bred crosses?