Kissing Sin (Riley Jenson Guardian 2)

I looked around the darkened, grimy streets, and could instantly think of a dozen better places to go. Which I guess made it the ideal spot. "Fine."

He swung into a side street and stopped in the shadows of an old gum tree. I grabbed my bag and climbed out. The wind had become even colder, whipping around my bare legs with some force, sending goose bumps fleeing across my flesh. The scent of the ocean mingled now with the overripe aromas of rubbish, age, urine, and stale human. The surrounding houses were as dark and dingy as the street itself, yet the sound of lovemaking that was coming from the one closest indicated that some of these hovels were at least occupied by more than the drunks I could smell.

I glanced across the roof of the car. "Do you know this area?"

"Not at all." He faded into darkness, and I switched to infrared. The heat of him moved around the back of the car. "This way." His breath whispered warmly past my ear as he took the bag from me.

I glanced at the house, saw the flame of the couple loving each other, and fleetingly wished I had nothing more to worry about than achieving satisfaction.

Pulling my gaze away, I followed Quinn. We moved quickly through the maze of streets, always heading away from the city rather than toward it, as might be expected.

By the time he'd stopped, we'd made our way into a small shopping strip. I eyed the bedding shop with longing, but naturally, it wasn't that one he stopped at, but rather, the dingy-looking corner store.

"No alarms," he said, before I could ask. "And there's an unoccupied floor above it."

I didn't even have the energy to work up a glare. "I thought you were going to stop reading my mind?"

"No, I said you should guard your thoughts if you don't want me reading them." He forced open the door, and waved a hand. "After you."

The old shop hadn't been used for some time, if the dust layered on the counters and the aged taste of the air was anything to go by. I moved past chair stacked on tables, brushed past several dangling cobwebs, and headed up the stairs. The upper floor wasn't large, but it did have a bed. And even though it smelled older than Methuselah, it was better than sleeping on rot-worn floorboards.

"You take the bed," Quinn said from the top of the stairs. "I'll keep watch from down below."

"Keeping out of temptation's way?" I said, with some amusement.

His expression was grim as it met mine. "As you noted before, I have a decision to make. I think it only fair I keep my distance until I do make that decision."

I grabbed my bag from him, then leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Thank you for being honest, and thank you for at least thinking about it."

Warmth touched his dark eyes. "Even a very old vampire can learn to be honest occasionally."

"So there's hope for you yet?"

The amusement died. "I don't know, Riley." He raised a hand, touching my cheek briefly but oh so tenderly. "I just don't know."

He turned and walked down the stairs. I blew out a breath, then sat on the sagging mattress and started up the com-unit. Half an hour later, I had the answer to at least one of the questions bugging me.

Kade had all the right certificates and records.

But Kade Williams didn't actually exist.

Lygon Street on a Saturday afternoon was a hive of activity and noise, the air rich with mouthwatering aromas. Quinn and I sat at an outside table, enjoying the brief splash of sunshine as we waited for three o'clock to roll around. From where I sat, I could see the Blue Moon, which was across the road and down a side street. Rhoan and Kade weren't to be seen, but I knew they'd be here somewhere. Jack waited in the underground car park down the road. He wasn't quite as old as Quinn, and had tighter sunshine restrictions.

I was making my way through a garlic heavy super-souvlaki, and barely resisting the temptation to breathe in Quinn's direction. Not because the whole garlic and vampires thing was true - it wasn't - but just because it would be an annoying thing to do and I was in an annoying sort of mood.

Part of that was our close proximity to the club. The scent of lust and sex and musk carried easily on the air, stirring my hormones to life. But considering the meeting I had to face, having eager hormones was a very good thing. Misha knew how badly I'd want a kid now that I knew for sure I only had a brief window of opportunity. He'd understand it instinctively, in a way only other werewolves could. He'd expect me to be sexually ready - aggressive, even - simply because females wolves usually were when they were ready to bear children. It didn't matter that we weren't soul mates - he'd still expect that sort of behavior from me, because he knew this might be my one and only chance.

Yet he also knew me well enough to know I wouldn't jump into anything without first questioning. He'd expect questions, and he'd expect me to answer his questions, as well.

And that was the other part of the whole mood equation. I wasn't entirely sure I was up to playing that sort of game with a man intent on using both sides for his own benefit.

Rhoan came sauntering up the street, a pleased smile touching his lips.

"The Blue Moon checked out, huh?" I said dryly, as he pulled out a chair and sat down.

"Yeah." He grinned. "Liander was there."

"And you did the wild thing on Directorate time?" I shook my head in mock disgust. "Really, bro, where are your morals?"