Deadly Desire (Riley Jenson Guardian 7)

"That depends."

I didn't ask on what. We both knew what he wanted out of the deal. "There's two hundred in it," I said. "That's twenty bucks cash for everyone here." And enough money to buy meals for the next couple of days if they were canny.

"Three," he said.

I hesitated. Jack wouldn't approve an expense report, so this money was coming out of my own pocket. In the scheme of things it wasn't much, but I had a brother who liked to overspend and it was often me who picked up the slack to ensure we had food in the cupboard and coffee on the table. "Two-fifty."

"You guardians are well paid. You can afford more than that."

"Did I mention I have a serious coffee habit?"

He grinned. "Two seventy-five."

"You drive a hard bargain."

"Totally." He held out his hand. "We got a deal?"

"Deal." I clasped and shook it. The kid had a good grip for a scrawny human. "If you can you get Joe here this afternoon."

He grinned. "I'll get him here by five."

Meaning Joe probably wasn't working the streets, but hiding out nearby. This kid was a shark. "You got a name?"

He hesitated. "Mike."

I lightly linked to his mind, quickly skimming the surface. I saw no lie in his thoughts, about either his name or anything else he'd said.

"Well, Mike, I'll be back at five, then."

I nodded to the two kids behind him, then walked out. Once in the car, I checked the computer for any messages then leaned back in the seat, wondering what to do. Cole wouldn't have finished his report on Armel's murder yet, and I didn't want to go back to the office. Quinn had business meetings all day, so he was off the list as well. Even my friend Dia wasn't around. She'd gone up to Queensland for a month-long vacation.

I blew out a breath and started up the car. With nowhere else to go, I headed home to grab some lunch.

Liander was sitting in the living room when I arrived, newspaper in hand and his feet crossed on the table. The sun streaming in through the windows made his silver hair gleam like ice, and his normally pale skin took on an almost golden glow.

He finally looked healthy. For a while there, he'd been looking frailer than a ghost, and moving like an old man. Though I guess almost getting gutted would do that to you.

"Some people have a good life," I said, throwing my bag on the table before heading into the kitchen to turn on the kettle and investigate the fridge.

"Some people hate the confinement the doctors are forcing on them," he said dryly. "There's leftover lasagna in the fridge if you want to zap that for lunch."

"Sounds like a plan," I said, pulling out the tray. "How much longer do you have to rest?"

"Until the soreness goes away."

I shoved two slices of lasagna into the microwave, then leaned against the door frame and frowned at him. "I thought it had."

He suddenly looked sheepish and made a show of looking at the paper again. "Well, it did, but then Rhoan and I got a little overadventurous, and I think it strained things."

I snorted softly. "No sympathy from me, then. You want a coffee?"

"As long as you're not going to tell me to get it myself."

"I'm not that mean." I made two coffees and carted them across to the coffee table, then went back to grab the lasagna. I handed Liander his, then plonked down on the other sofa.

"So how's the love life?" he said, after several mouthfuls.

I grinned. "A hell of a lot safer than yours, from the sound of it."