Dangerous Games (Riley Jenson Guardian 4)

"Sentimentality doesn't play a whole lot into the thinking of an old vampire," Jack said, voice dry. "Not when he's on the hunt."

"Great." I looked at Rhoan. "Let's get this over with."

We headed up. As we approached the room, I blinked, flicking my vision to infrared. Two bodies jumped into focus, one far darker than the other. Oddly enough, Quinn was the brighter one, and closer to the wall. Maisie sat near the window. I glanced at my brother.

He pointed to me, then to the right. I nodded, and pressed a hand flat against the door as he got the keycard out of his pocket. He looked at me again, and raised an eyebrow in query. I took a deep breath, then readied the laser and nodded again. He swiped the card through the slot, and I flung the door open, waiting until he was in before following him through.

There was an exclamation, a flash of red light, a blur of movement, then Rhoan was being tossed sideways like so much rubbish and that blur of heat was coming at me. I pressed the laser, aiming low, scouring the carpet and the end of his toes, not wanting to permanently hurt him. There was a brief whiff of rich spice and seared flesh, and Quinn was on me. I ducked his blow, dropped to the ground, and swept with a leg. Incredibly, I hit him, knocking him off his feet. His butt hit the floor with a thump that would have bruised the tailbone of any other man. And though I'm sure he could have moved, he didn't. Just sat there with a somewhat surprised look on his face.

At any other time, it might have been funny.

Right now, when it was just another instance of how much he underestimated me, it wasn't.

I rose and aimed the laser at him. "Move, and next time it'll be more than your toes."

The surprise melted away, and anger sparked to life, burning in his dark eyes, heating the very air around me. "What are you doing here?"

"My job. Rhoan, you okay?"

"Yeah. Bit of a bruised jaw, but I ducked the worst of it." Footsteps whispered across the carpet. "He has the mage confined."

"Good." I looked at Quinn. "You want to get up?"

He did. And the closeness of him, the rich, glorious smell of him, had my hormones doing giddy little cartwheels. I couldn't ever imagine a time when I didn't want this vampire, moon-heated lust or not. But as I kept trying to tell him, while sex might play a major part in my life, there was only so much shit I could take before the enticement of good sex began to wane and frustration and annoyance took hold.

Quinn and I had passed that point ages ago.

"How did you find me here?" His voice was low, rich with the lilt of Ireland. Which usually meant he was barely controlling some emotion or other. His accent was rarely noticeable, otherwise.

"I asked Jack to track you after you knocked out the mage last night."

He raised his eyebrows, surprise evident yet again. "You countermanded my order to go home?"

"I did. Fancy that." I looked past him. "You want him cuffed?"

"There is no need - "

My finger tightened reflexively against the laser and a soft whine filled the room. "I am itching for an excuse to shoot, you know."

"Cuff him if you want to," Rhoan said.

"I want."

"Revenge for last night?" Quinn said, amusement playing amongst the anger.

"Just doing my job," I said, and met his gaze.

I'm not entirely sure what he saw in my eyes, but the amusement and the anger fled abruptly. "Riley - "

"It's too late, Quinn," I said softly. Wearily. "I'm tired of listening to your excuses, tired of the one-way traffic. I am a werewolf, I am a guardian, and it seems you can't accept either."

"We had a deal - "

"Would that be the deal you keep breaking?" I caught the cuffs Rhoan tossed my way. "Tell me, how long have you been using our telepathic bond to curb my visits to the clubs?"

It was a guess, but a reasonable one. I certainly hadn't been restricting my visits consciously - but my reaction in the Blue Moon last night had certainly proved that they had indeed been curbed. And the wolf within wouldn't have done it willingly - hell, she wanted more visits, not less.

So it had to have been an unconscious decision. A decision caressed into compliance by a link so light I wasn't even aware of it.