Dangerous Games (Riley Jenson Guardian 4)

You will believe in demons by the end of all this, little wolf And you will learn that not all demons are creatures of myth or magic, but rather of flesh and blood.

And with that, he and the mist were gone.

As quickly and as suddenly as the things in the car.

With the mist and the presence gone, awareness of the night and the weather returned full force. The rain was falling harder, meaning I was soaked to the skin and shivering like a newborn pup. Though I wasn't entirely sure the shivering was a result of the cold.

I scrubbed a hand across my face to wipe the rain away - uselessly, as it turned out - then turned around and splashed my way back to Karen Herbert's car.

Thankfully, the keys were still in it. Maybe demons couldn't carry them in wraith form - who knew? Certainly not me. Hell, I still wasn't sure what to think when it came to that revelation.

I climbed in, started the car up, and turned the heater on full blast. But I didn't go anywhere because I wasn't entirely sure where to go. Part of me wanted to go home, get warm, and consume the coffee and chocolate I'd been anticipating earlier.

But the other half of my soul hungered for pleasures far more carnal. The full moon was near and the moon heat was rising. Quinn might be happy playing his games, but I wasn't about to sit around waiting to discover the point of it all. I had base needs, just like he did.

So why I was not roaring off to one of the werewolf clubs right now?

Damned if I knew - except for the fact that I wanted him tonight, not some random encounter with a stranger.

Which was probably the whole point of his "let's frustrate Riley" mode of operation. He wanted me to want him, and only him.

Which meant he was aiming for exclusive, even though he knew well enough that exclusive wasn't something I wanted with a vampire. Particularly seeing he could never fulfill the one desire that had been mine for as long as I could remember.

Kids. A family of my own.

I thumped the wheel in frustration, torn between wanting him and not wanting to want him. Between needing to ease the ache and wanting to undertake the journey with him even if the destination wasn't where I wanted to go.

In the end, the ornery part of me won out. Whatever I might or might not desire, there was one thing I could never change. I was a werewolf and sex was part of our nature, part of my soul. Whatever else happened in my life, that was the one thing I could never change.

The one thing I didn't want to change.

But even so, I didn't immediately head to the clubs. Quinn might be the one I wanted right now, but he wasn't the only man in my life. And if I didn't want to play with strangers - which I didn't - then I had only one other option.

So I picked up the phone and rang Kellen.

"Sinclair speaking." His voice was gruff, and edged with a tiredness that had my eyebrows raising. I knew he'd been working hard of late, trying to get his freight business fully moved down to Melbourne so he and I could spend more time together, but right now, he sounded like he hadn't slept in days.

"Kellen? It's me."

"Riley?" he said, and the tiredness in his voice was suddenly overrun by a warmth that had my heart doing odd little flip-flops. I might want Quinn more than could ever be good for me, but there was no denying my growing connection with this wolf. It might not have the same strength as the connection that Quinn and I shared, but we'd also had a whole lot less time together.

Something, I thought in sudden annoyance, Quinn had been doing his best to ensure. Something I done very little to fight, despite earlier intentions to see them both equally.

Which was odd, really.

"I didn't expect to hear from you for a few more days," he continued softly. "Thought you'd be out with O'Conor."

The way he said Quinn's name spoke volumes, but then, they'd been less than chummy long before I'd come on the scene.

"He's got business to attend to. I thought I'd give you a call instead." Which sounded like he was second choice, and I guess in some ways, that was nothing but the truth. Even if Kellen was more of a possibility when it came to fulfilling my dreams than Quinn could ever be.

He didn't say anything for a moment, but I could almost taste the annoyance he was undoubtedly trying to control. Kellen liked being second about as much as Quinn did.

"I'm not up to going to the clubs tonight," he said. "I've been working for the last forty-eight hours, and the movers have only just left. The place is a mess and I need to get my office in working order for tomorrow."

He'd bought an old five story hotel in Spencer Street - just several doors down from the Southern Cross railway station - a few months ago, and had been busy renovating ever since. The last time I'd been there - which was only two weeks ago - the four office floors had been completed, but the fifth floor living quarters were nothing short of a mess. But if he was finally moving in, then he must have finished them.

"I wasn't suggesting a club. I thought I might buy some wine and pay you a visit."