Deadly Desire (Riley Jenson Guardian 7)

"Why?" he asked, frowning. "It's just a job. It's not a life commitment."

"Maybe not for the rest of you." I might have accepted my guardian role, and some part of me might even enjoy the hunting aspects of it. But I didn't want to be doing this for the rest of my life, and yet I could see no way out. The drug introduced into my system so long ago was still wreaking havoc, and until we knew what the full scope of those changes were, the Directorate was the safest place to be. They could at least monitor what was going on. "Buy me a drink sometime, and you just might tempt me to tell you the whole sorry tale."

His grin crinkled the corners of his eyes, and made his whole face light up. "And I suppose you're hoping a drink would lead to sex?"

"Werewolves aren't that easy. I'll have you know it'd take two or three drinks, at least."

He laughed. "Good to see your standards have risen."

I grinned. "Sorry to see yours haven't. You don't know what you're missing, Cole."

"I'll survive."

I was sure he would. "Did you get enough of the finger to get a print off it?"

He nodded. "I sent an image through to headquarters. They're doing a search."

"Finding the zombie probably won't help us find the master."

"You don't know that."

Yeah, I did. The woman behind these things was not only powerful, but clever. I very much doubted she'd be keeping barely animated carcasses close at hand for someone to see and report.

"Did you find out anything about the last zombie?"

"Not much." He shrugged. "But there doesn't seem to be any connection between him and the people he killed."

"No, but remember it isn't the zombie who's going after these people. It's the person who's raising them who'd have the connection."

"Well, there's no obvious link between the first two victims, and I doubt we'll find one here."

"There has to be something. We just aren't seeing it yet."

"Undoubtedly." He paused a minute to pick something black off one of the woman's remains and shove it in a plastic bag. "We found some feathers at the old warehouse. They're currently at the lab undergoing DNA testing. Interestingly, there were no prints of any kind on the gantry where the crow was resting."

"If she was in crow form, there wouldn't be."

"The gantry was covered in dust and grime, so there should have at least been claw prints. All we found was feather imprints."

"Meaning she had no legs?"

"Or her legs were useless and just hung lifeless. Any scuff marks they might have left were erased by her belly feathers."

So we were looking for a paralyzed shifter? That was rare, because shape shifting actually healed most wounds. "Maybe she's simply a lazy crow."

"Could be." He shrugged. "If the fingerprint doesn't bring anything up, you could do a search through police records and see if there's any more reports of grave vandalism. Whoever is behind this is using the freshly dead-or at least so far. They're easier to reanimate than older bodies. Their flesh still remembers life."

"Muscles don't have memories.">He was shifting his whole business for me? God, was there ever a greater sign of commitment than that? It made me feel intensely happy, and yet intensely selfish. I couldn't give him the same sort of commitment because there would always be one part of my soul that hungered for-needed-more.

Besides, he wasn't the first man to offer such a gift. Kellen had moved down to Melbourne for me, too, and look how well that had turned out. "Really?"

"Really." His dark eyes smiled. "Of course, the move will be gradual, as said redhead is keeping her options open when it comes to other werewolves."

"It's not like I'm going to the clubs and dancing every night."

"I know, and I appreciate it." He leaned down and kissed me gently. "But we both know there will come a time when I am not enough, and that will be a testing time for us both."

"I won't flaunt any other lovers in your face, Quinn. I promise that much."