Dangerous Games (Riley Jenson Guardian 4)

"I will." I walked away. There was nothing else I could do or say. Except hunt Gautier down and blow his rotten brains out.

I caught up with Rhoan, tossing him his jacket and donning my own. The second we stepped out of the warehouse, the weather hit, the wind so cold, so forceful, that it snatched my breath away. Rhoan wrapped an arm around my shoulder, holding me close, sharing his body heat as we made our way through the rain-soaked night.

Unfortunately, neither of us had a car to walk toward, because baby vamps usually didn't use them. I have no idea why, but suspected it might have something to do with the flood of new sensations that enveloped the newly turned. It had to be hard to concentrate on mundane things like driving when the whole world had become a playground filled with blood hunger, lust, and easy targets.

Which meant, of course, that if the vamps walked, we did too. Not that I had a car to drive - I still hadn't replaced the one I'd apparently driven into a tree four months ago - but Rhoan did, and it would have been nice just to climb inside his old Ford and drive home to warmth and safety.

Thankfully for my chilled body, we did eventually find a cab.

"You go," Rhoan said, as the cab drew to a halt outside our apartment building. "I feel like relaxing at the Blue Moon for a few hours."

The Blue Moon was one of the five werewolf clubs in Melbourne, and the one favored by us both. I studied him for a moment, then said, "You should ring Liander."

"Dammit, Riley, don't give me a lecture. Not now. I just feel like blowing some steam and that's exactly what I intend to do."

Liander would be more than willing to accommodate any steam blowing my brother required, and we both knew it I wondered why he was so resistant to making any sort of real commitment to Liander - but the edge of anger so evident in his gray eyes suggested now was not the time for this topic.

But he had to be aware that he was running the risk of losing the man who was probably his soul mate. He had to be - no one else but a soul mate would put up with the sort of shit Rhoan had been pulling of late.

"Be careful," was all I said I leaned forward and gave him a kiss, then climbed out of the cab.

He waved as the cab zoomed off I smiled and walked up the steps to our building.

Jack wasn't happy that we were still living here After Gautier's initial threat, he'd insisted we shift into a more secure building. Only it hadn't stopped Gautier. I don't know how he'd gotten into the apartment given the fact that vampires couldn't cross thresholds uninvited, but he'd left us a bloody rose and a simple message:

The best kill is one that is fully appreciated beforehand. The hunt has not yet begun.

After that, we'd come back home. Which didn't mean we relaxed our guard any, but Gautier had proven his point. He could get us anywhere, anytime, so there was no purpose in hiding.

I thrust open the old glass and wood front doors and began to climb the stairs. This old brick building had originally been a warehouse, but for the last fifty years, at least, it had functioned as an apartment building. And though both the building and the apartments had become as run-down as the entire Sunshine area, it was close to the city and transport, and the apartments were bigger than anything they built nowadays. Not to mention the fact that it was cheap.

Of course, the old biddy who owned the building hated nonhumans of any kind, but it was against the law to discriminate. Which didn't actually mean she had to accept us as tenants - humans could always find ways to circumnavigate laws if they wanted to - but having werewolves in the building also meant there was never a problem with rats. And in a rat-infested area, this was a good thing.

Though why those beady-eyed little bastards hated us so much was anyone's guess. It certainly wasn't because we hat! a habit of eating them. They tasted as ghastly as they looked.

Rhoan and I lived on the sixth - and top - floor, and there was no elevator, only these stairs. I ran up them - the one regular form of exercising I did outside the training they forced on us at the Directorate - then pushed open the stairwell door and strode down the hall toward our apartment. I have to admit, my thoughts were not on safety at that point. I just wanted to get inside, have a hot shower followed by several gallons of hazelnut coffee. Which I'd neatly top off with a block of my favorite chocolate - black forest.

One of the many good things about being a werewolf was the fact that our metabolic rate was so efficient, we could basically eat what we wanted and not put on weight.

I opened the door, threw off my coat, chucked my keys on the phone table, and began stripping off as I headed for the bathroom.

A soft chuckle ran across the silence.

My heart froze and, for one horrible second, I thought I'd made the mistake that would end my life. Then the voice registered and my heart did a strange little leap. I couldn't help the smile that touched my lips as I turned around.

Quinn O'Conor, ancient vampire, billionaire businessman, and one of my two permanent lovers, stood near the window, his arms crossed as he leaned casually against one of the panes of the glass that lined the entire outside wall of our living room.

As window dressings went, he was mighty damn fine.

Tonight he wore a navy shirt that emphasized the width of his shoulders and dark jeans that drew the eye down the lean, athletic length of his legs His hair - once shoulder length but now cut shorter - was night dark, and so thick, so lush, that my fingertips itched with the need to run through it. Unlike most vampires, he could stand a lot of sunshine, so he was as far from white as a vampire could actually get, his skin possessing a warm, almost golden glow And to say he was handsome would be the understatement of the year. I swear even angels would be envious of his looks, and yet he was in no way effeminate.

But it was his obsidian eyes that always caught me, and right now they were filled with a heat that instantly began to warm the chill from my skin. And, as ever, as our gazes met something passed between us, an awareness that made my heart stutter and caused goose bumps to prickle across my skin. It was an awareness that had been present from the very first time we'd met, and it seemed to be getting stronger with every passing month.

The last time I'd seen him was two weeks ago - when he'd left me high but far from dry after a delicious dinner date. Why he'd refused all my efforts to get him into bed - or anywhere else, for that matter - I have no idea. But I very much suspected it was all part of a larger plan.

All I had to do now was uncover what that plan was. Not an easy thing when he'd had over twelve hundred years of practice at keeping secrets.

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise," I said, continuing to strip off wet clothes and drop them on the floor as I walked toward him.