Full Moon Rising (Riley Jenson Guardian 1)

"I know you're there," I said softly. "What the hell do you want?"

The shadows parted, and the wolf stepped out into the light. He was rangy, mean-looking, and so much like Henri Gautier it could have been his brother. Only, as far as I knew, Gautier didn't have a brother

"Riley Jenson?" His voice was guttural, thick, and so cold a shiver traveled down my spine

"Who wants to know?"

"Got a message for you."

My heart leapt. While I didn't think scum like him would be a friend of my brother's, I wouldn't put it past Rhoan to use his like for a messenger

"What?"

"Die, freak."

His hand blurred, and I saw the gun

I moved, as fast as I could

Heard the booming report

Then there was pain

Nothing but pain "Riley?"

The voice was warm and familiar, but far away. Far, far, away

"Riley, tell me what's wrong."

Despite the pain engulfing me, the soft question sent heat shimmering through every nerve cell. It had to be Quinn. No one else I knew caused that sort of reaction. But why the hell was he there, rather than haunting the halls of my apartment building?

And what did he mean by what was wrong? I'd been shot, for Christ's sake. That much had to be obvious, even to the simplest of minds

God, it hurt. Burned

"Is the bullet silver?"

Silver. The bullet was silver. That's why it hurt so much

"Take... out." Hurry

He swore. Amen to that, I thought weakly. My eyes refused to open, my arm was numb, and the numbness was spreading all too quickly through the rest of my body. The wolf had missed my heart, but in many respects, it didn't matter. If Quinn didn't get that bullet out of my shoulder soon, I was one dead puppy

I floated in a sea of molten agony, drifting in and out of consciousness, my body aflame and dripping with sweat

Yet his voice reached me, dragged me back

"I haven't got a knife. I'll have to use my teeth. It's going to hurt."

No shit, Sherlock. But the words stayed locked inside. The numbness had reached my neck and mouth, and breathing was becoming harder

My shirt was torn away, then lips touched my flesh, a brief caress that made my skin tremble. Then his teeth were slashing down, slicing deep. A scream tore up my throat but seemed to lodge somewhere near my tonsils. His mind surged into mine and, like a cool and gentle hand, cocooned me, soothing the ache, easing the fire

His teeth withdrew from my flesh, but were replaced by his fingers. There was no escape from the agony of his delving, no matter how much he tried to protect me. When he touched the bullet, moved it, I screamed again

Then the bullet was gone, the fire was gone, and in its place normal, peaceful pain

I reached to that magical place inside and called to the wolf. Power swept around me, through me, blurring the pain, healing the wound. But once I was back in human form, the world slid away