Tempting Evil (Riley Jenson Guardian 3)

I'd always been a little more fussy - despite what Quinn might think. Though I guess there were huge differences in what a werewolf termed fussy and what a vampire with human sensibilities might.

We circled the ruined sections of building, and began to edge closer to Moss and the guards, all the while keeping the shadows close and the breeze to our front so that it blew our scents away from, not toward, the men below.

"No, sir," the shorter of the two guards said, his tone all military preciseness. "I saw no movement in the kitchen."

"And yet you were the one who reported hearing steps?"

"Yes, sir."

"How long before the explosion was this?"

"Ten, maybe fifteen minutes, sir."

Moss swore and snapped his gaze to the second man. "And you?"

"I saw a heat signature in the kitchen, but by the time I got there, the person had left through the window."

"And you didn't give chase?"

"I saw no person, sir. Only a fox sniffing out the rubbish."

Something in me stilled. A fox? Nerida was a werefox, and even a vamp couldn't tell the difference between the heat signature of a real fox to that of a shapeshifter or werefox. The guard was a shifter himself, so he should have been able to sense the difference, but if he'd been more interested in getting back to bed, maybe he'd simply taken what he'd seen at face value.

And while I had no doubt that real foxes did scavenge around the bins here nightly, it just seemed a little too much of a coincidence that this fox was sighted so soon after the guard had sprung someone in the kitchen. Fact was, most real foxes would have scampered at the first hint of movement. They certainly wouldn't have stayed there scavenging as a vampire approached. Most wild ones feared the undead almost as much as most humans did.

But what would Nerida be doing in the kitchen? Had she been involved in the explosion or was it merely a coincidence? Why would anyone want to blow this section of the house up, anyway? There was little here but the kitchen and dining areas, and the staff who ran them.

So what was Moss doing here? How'd he get caught in the explosion when he was supposedly talking to the new intake of guards?

"I want you to do a walk around the area. See if you can spot that heat signature again."

The words were barely out of Moss's mouth when I was dragged back then forced up the slight knoll and into a knot of trees.

"Why the hell did you do that?" I asked, shaking free of both Quinn's grip and the shadows concealing my form as we stopped.

Quinn also stepped free of night's cloak, and a lot more elegantly than me. "He was about to switch to infrared. He would have spotted us in an instant."

"Given he wasn't even facing us, there was plenty of time to move."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, it wasn't worth the risk of discovery." He paused, his gaze moving to the mess below us. "I think I'll follow Moss for a while. If you find Rhoan, let him know I am here, and that I will contact him later."

"If you kill Moss, they're going to know this place has been infiltrated."

His gaze flicked to mine, obsidian depths once again devoid of emotion. "I am not the amateur here."

He had a point, but it was an annoying one. "No, you're just the man hell-bent on revenge, regardless of the cost."

"I will not do anything to jeopardize you or Rhoan."

"That a promise?"

His hesitation was brief but nevertheless there. "Yes."

I studied him for a moment, weighing his words, hearing truth and yet not trusting it. "I don't know how much stock you vampires put in promises, but let me give one to you - if Rhoan gets hurt because your need for revenge overrides your vow, I'll make you pay for it."

He didn't say anything, just turned and walked down the hill, the shadows again taking him from sight as he neared the end of the trees.

I rubbed my head wearily, and let my gaze roam across the smoking mass of rubble and partial walls below. Moss was across the far side now, talking to other guards. The first two were walking around, heading my way as they scanned the area. Time to get moving, before I was spotted.