Full Moon Rising (Riley Jenson Guardian 1)

We made it to the main building a heartbeat before the car came into view. The sweep of lights as it turned the corner turned night into day, almost pinning the two of us in brightness

I crouched in the corner shadows beside Quinn, watching the car and feeling nothing along the sensory lines. Which meant the guard was human. Anything else I would have felt

"He's bored," Quinn said, his breath brushing warmth past my ear. "And hates his job."

My thigh rested against his, and electricity seemed to spark the air between us. The fever began to burn so bad, sweat trickled down my back, despite the ice in the wind. I was still in control, but it wouldn't take much to push me over the edge. I had a feeling Quinn knew exactly what my state was and that he wasn't about to make a second offer of relief. Next time, I'd have to ask. If he thought I wouldn't, he was sorely wrong

"He's obviously neither psychic nor shielded if you can read him so easily."

He didn't answer immediately, his expression distant. After a minute, he blinked and glanced at me. "I've searched his mind. There's nothing here to find."

"We should still check."

He nodded and rose. We checked, and found exactly what we expected. Nothing

"Hope Jack and Rhoan have more luck than we had," I said, as we made our way back to the car

"I suspect they won't. This is all too well planned to be uncovered so easily."

"I would hardly call going through a mountain of files easy."

"But what did we really find? Plans that may very well be nothing more than a dead end."

He lifted the wire for me. I ducked through, then stopped

The dead had returned to the graveyard

There were eight of them, and they formed a rough semicircle around us. They were all males, all naked, and all rather lacking in the manhood department. Their bodies were muscular, almost too perfect, and their skin shone with a luminosity that reminded me of the moon. But any vague resemblance to humanity ended right there. The flesh of their arms gave way at the elbow to the soft golden fur of a cat, and they had claws rather than hands. Instead of faces, they had the heads and beaks of an eagle. On their backs, fanning lightly in the wind, brown-and-gold wings that arched high above them

"Gryphons," I said. "Sort of."

"Humans bred with gryphons, I would suggest." Quinn stopped beside me, his shoulder brushing mine. The moon fever sang in response, and my whole body began to tremble, a sharp warning I was roaring toward the point of no return

I clenched my fists, fighting the need in me. "Why then do I sense them as the dead rather than gryphons?"

"I don't know." He flexed his hands, then glanced at me. "I hope you have more of those punches in you."

"I most certainly do." I watched them watching us and wondered why they hadn't yet moved. "I gather you can't touch their minds?"

"No, they're shielded, though I can't see any wires on them." His fingers captured mine, raising my hand to his lips. His kiss was feather-soft, erotic. "Good luck."

He released my hand and faded into the night, moving swiftly to the right. That was obviously what the creatures had been waiting for. With a blur of wings, they rose, five swooping toward Quinn, three to me

The insane part of me was quite offended by the fact that Quinn was considered the greater threat

The sweep of their powerful wings filled the night with a maelstrom of air. Dirt and leaves swirled around me, making it difficult even to see

As the three of them arrowed in, I turned and ran, heading for the protection of trees. I might be offended but I wasn't a fool, and I didn't have eyes in the back of my head. At least the thick pines gave me some protection against an attack from above or behind

A clawed paw the size of a spade swept through the air. I ducked and swung, kicking the creature in the gut. The blow bounced off the gryphon's rippled abs and jarred the whole of my leg. I briefly wished I hadn't taken off my shoes. Spikes were a far better weapon than bare feet

The air screamed a warning, and I ducked blows from the other two creatures. They were so close that the wind from their wings was a vortex that tore at my hair and clothes, filling the air with pine needles and my lungs with dirt. I coughed, squinting to see through the muck surging around me

The first creature banked toward me, arrowing in from a sharp angle. He flew low under the trees, beaked mouth open as if screaming, though no sound came out

I danced away from more blows from the other two, then rocked backward as the first creature swooped close. Claws lashed out, scouring my arm and leaving three bloody rents. I swore and leapt forward, onto its back. It screamed then - a high sound that was neither bird of prey nor cat nor human. I hung on for grim life as it bucked and twisted, then we were out of the trees and surging skyward

His smell hit me, and despite what I'd sensed before, it was not the mustiness of animal and death. It was honey and rain, a sweet, refreshing aroma that had the already rampant moon heat surging anew. But these things weren't trying to fuck me, they were trying to kill me, and the moon heat wasn't yet strong enough to overcome the instinct of survival