Deadly Desire

Chapter Two

As I landed on a metal walkway that groaned under my weight, the hand released me. I spun around, ready to fight, not sure whether I'd been rescued or drawn into deeper danger.

The raw scent of wolf swirled around me, rich with a musk that was all man and totally delicious.

It was also a scent I recognized, even if I'd only smelled it once, and then only briefly.

Kye-the man who'd played bodyguard to Patrin, the son of our pack's alpha, Blake, and one mean bastard.

I couldn't see him in the gluey blackness, but I really didn't need to. Not given how close he was. Not when the heat of his body rolled across mine, sending warm prickles of desire skating across my skin.

Not a good reaction. Not when the moon bloomed near fullness, and especially not when we were in such a dangerous situation. Danger is an aphrodisiac to a wolf, and my hormones didn't need that sort of prompting right now.

I tried to step back and put some distance between us, but his hand grabbed mine again, pulling me closer, until the heat of him was pressed against me and all I could smell was the tangy aroma of sweat and man and desire.

God, he smelled good.

Don't speak, he said quickly. The witch can hear through the black shield.

Shock rolled through me, battering away the desire. How the fuck could his thoughts breach my shields so easily?

My shields were vampire tight-I knew, because I'd tested them recently against Quinn and Jack, both of whom were extremely powerful telepaths. If they couldn't breach my shields, then this man certainly shouldn't be able to. Hell, according to his records-which we'd checked after our brief run-in when he'd been Patrin's watchdog-neither he nor any of his pack had ever shown any evidence of psychic skills.

Yet here he was, succeeding in doing the one thing two powerful vampires could not. Come to think of it, he'd been extraordinarily fast that day I'd cornered him and Patrin in my apartment. That might not have been a psychic skill, as such, but it proved there was something going on with this man. Something out of the ordinary for someone who supposedly was just another werewolf.

Your records say you're not telepathic, I said, mind voice tart. So how the fuck are you conversing with me that way?

Records often don't contain all the facts. His words ran with warmth, and it spun through my body like a summer storm, heating and electrifying. And I'm not telepathic.

So, this conversation we're having is just a figment of my imagination?

His amusement danced though my thoughts, and my hormones tripped along to its tune. My heart was beating so fast I swear it was about to go into a meltdown, and I wasn't entirely sure whether it was desire for the man who was holding me altogether too close, or fear of him.

An odd reaction given some of the things I'd faced over the last few years.

Like the zombie, the witch, and those yellow-eyed dogs are figments? he said, mind voice wry. I think you know better than that.

Those dogs are hellhounds, and unless you have some holy water on you, we don't stand much of a chance against them.

I have no intention of fighting them. That's why I'm up here and they're down there.

So why else are you up here, exactly? And why the hell did the press of his body against mine have to feel so good?

This closeness had to stop, otherwise I might not be able to.

I stepped back, breaking his grip on my arm and forcing some distance between us. His scent clung to my skin and clothes, teasing my nostrils and sending my pulse rate into another merry dance. But with the heat of his body no longer pressed so invitingly against me, it felt like I could breathe again. Concentrate again.

I'm tracking a killer, he said. What are you doing here?

Same. Only I'm legal.

His smile felt like sunshine through rain. All warm and sparkly as it spun through my thoughts.

Bounty hunters are legal.

Not in this state, buddy boy. I paused. Why are you hunting the zombie?

Who said I was hunting the zombie?

The metal platform swayed a little as he moved and I grabbed sideways, wrapping a hand around the railing to steady myself. A stupid reaction really, given I could now achieve seagull form and fly with some semblance of proficiency, but it seemed my stupid fear of heights just wouldn't entirely go away.

The dogs are coming back, he added.

I looked down. There was nothing but an inky blackness to be seen, and the only thing I could feel-and smell-was him.

How the fuck can you see or sense anything in this muck?

I can't see them. I can feel them.

How?

He hesitated. Its a talent.

Another talent you supposedly don't have?

Yeah.

The scent of this wolf might be divine, but his continued avoidance of any real information was getting damned annoying.

Tell me why you're here, before I'm tempted to beat the information out of you.

You wouldn't. You re not the type.

You have no idea what type I am, Kye.

Oh, I think I do. I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, knew without even seeing his face that his expression would be thoughtful. Intent. Like a soldier sighting an opponent and weighing his options. I saw you in action with Patrin, remember. Given everything he'd done to you and your brother, you would have been well within your rights to kill him. And yet, you let him live. Scared the shit out of him, true, but left him alive. That shows compassion-and perhaps more than a touch of foolishness.

How do you know of our history with Patrin? How did he know about my brother? It certainly wasn't something I spread around-and Patrin surely wouldn't. Not after we'd so thoroughly busted his ass.

But how else would Kye have found out? He might be able to read my surface thoughts with ease, but he'd gotten no further than that.

I was sure of that much.

How else would I know? Patrin boasted me about it, before you and Rhoan showed him just how foolish such attempts would be now.

Patrin's a bastard. And how dare he tell strangers that Rhoan and I were related! In our line of business, that could get dangerous-and giving that sort of information to a man who was little more than a gun for hire was doubly so. But why would he have told you about us? It had nothing to do with your stint as bodyguard.

Well, conversations about the weather got boring, he said, mind voice dry. Your pack mate is not the most intelligent conversationalist around, let me tell you.

"What the fuck?" The voice rose out of the blackness, thick with anger and very definitely female. "Don't tell me you lost the trail?"

No words answered her, but one of the hellhounds whined.

So, not only could the zombie understand crow, but the witch could understand hellhound, Either that, or they were telepathic-which was entirely possible, given that my knowledge of hellhounds could have filled a teaspoon.

"Well, scents just can't disappear." She paused, as if listening, then added, "No excuses accepted. Finish off the creature. We must get out of here."

I glanced toward Kye. Who is that?

My target.

She's the crow?

Yep.

Who put you onto her?

The father of her first victim. He's a friend of mine, and asked me to look into it.

The first victim was only murdered several nights ago. That's not exactly giving us a whole lot of time to solve this case.

If it was your daughter, he said, mind voice patient, like he was talking to a slightly slow child, wouldn't you take every avenue you could to find her killer?

He had a point-although it wasn't one I was about to acknowledge. So technically, you're not hunting a bounty, you're just hunting.

With intent to kill. Just like me. Except I was supposedly on the side of the angels. Kye was on no one's side but his most recent employer.

Considering hunting is illegal in this state, do you think it wise for me to admit it?

He'd basically done that anyway, which only emphasized the point that this wolf had very little fear of guardians or of the Directorate. Which meant he was either very dangerous or very stupid, and I suspected it wasn't the latter.

This is a guardian case, Kye. Which means I have to warn you to keep you nose out of it.

Warning heard.

And ignored, if his tone was anything to go by.

A soft scraping filled the brief silence. I frowned down at the ground I still couldn't see, wondering what the witch was doing.

Shit, Kye said. The blackness is fading and lifting.

He was right, because the ground was suddenly visible-and distant enough that old fears had me stepping back from the edge. The curtain was lifting from the concrete up, and if we didn't do something very quickly, it would leave us altogether exposed.

It wasn't the witch that worried me. It was those hounds.

I stepped forward, wrapped my arms around Kye, and pulled him close. He tensed instantly, and the warm amusement that had been flowing between us fled faster than water down a drain.

Now is not a good time for this sort of thing.

Amusement bubbled through me. So, it was okay for the bounty hunter to pull me close, but heaven forbid that I do the same. Don't worry, wolf, I'm not trying to jump your bones. If I was, you'd know about it.

So what the hell are you trying to do?

He was still as stiff as a board, and yet despite his obvious displeasure with my sudden action, there were parts of him that were totally enjoying the experience.

Which was a relief, because at least it meant I hadn't entirely lost my touch in the weeks I'd been with Quinn.

I'm half vampire, remember? I can cloak us in darkness.

Patrin never mentioned that aspect.

Patrin knows squat about what Rhoan and I are really capable of.

Oh, I think he's got an inkling after what you did to him.

He relaxed a little, his arms going around my waist and his body pressing harder against mine. As the fading blackness began to expose the walkway we were standing on, I extended the shadows and wrapped them around Kye. It took more effort than I thought it would, and a tiny ache began in the back of my left eye.

But that was nothing against the desire that rushed through me. Desire that wasn't only fueled by the delicious heat of him or the hardness of his erection pressed so invitingly against my groin, but by the danger we were in.

I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the needs of my body, trying to concentrate on what was going on below us. There was little in the way of sound, even with the black wall all but gone. Yet the witch was still there. I could sense her presence.

I shifted a little, and felt the movement ripple across the shadows that were hiding us. Pain stabbed through my brain, briefly cutting through the haze of desire throbbing across my body.

I shuddered, wishing I could rub my temples to ease the ache behind my eyes, but not daring to move again. On the concrete below, the two hellhounds were consuming the remains of the zombie. The witch herself was nowhere in sight, but a pentagram I hadn't noticed before had been destroyed, its outline smudged and the candles tipped over.

Then the crow squawked. I looked up and saw it sitting on the gantry again. The hellhounds had all but consumed the zombie, and all that remained was the splash of blood where his bits had fallen.

The bird squawked again and launched off the platform, flying so close it was all I could do not to duck. Then she and the dogs were gone, and silence fell.

I blew out a breath then stepped back, and gratefully released the shadows. The pressure behind my eyes eased almost instantly, but the distance I'd put between Kye and myself didn't do a whole lot to ease the pounding of my heart or the heat of need racing through my veins.

Even with the black wall gone, it was still darker than hell in this section of the old factory. But Kye's amber eyes were very visible, glowing with a heat that was all desire, all need. All power.

And I wanted that power. Wanted to feel all that heat and hardness wrapped around me again. Wanted to feel it in me.

But that wasn't an option. I was a guardian, and I had to at least try and act like it-even if it went against my more hedonistic nature.

"What can you tell me about that woman?" I said, perhaps a little more sharply than I should have. I didn't want to want this man, but it seemed my wolf soul was having none of that.

"She's a witch and a shifter."

His low, husky tones sent desire skittering down my spine. I loved being a werewolf, but it could sometimes be a real pain in the ass. I mean, I had a good man waiting for me. I didn't need this attraction, and I certainly didn't need another man in my life.

Or in my bed, for that matter. Been there, done that, and I'd ended up seriously burned.

"So has she got a name? An address?"

"She has," he said. "But I don't know them yet."

Then he grabbed me, crushing me close, his mouth finding mine almost savagely.

And oh, his lips tasted so good. I might not want to want him, but I couldn't find the strength to push him away, either. Not when the hunger to taste him was this bad.

I wrapped my arms around his neck as the kiss became an urgent, hungry thing, fueled by the need that burned through us both. We were so close I could feel the ripple of muscles across his chest as he breathed and the gun strapped under his arm. So close that every rapid intake of breath filled my lungs with the scent of him and it was all I could do to not tear off his clothes and take him there and then.

I wanted to.

But somewhere deep inside, a sliver of control remained. And no matter how bad the rest of me ached, that sliver would not let go. Not here, not on a walkway barely a foot wide. Not when I still had a killer to catch.

Kye, stop.

The demand sounded weak, even to me. The mind might have good intentions, but the body had other ideas.

His hand slid up my spine, the ring on his finger snagging against my top. There was a brief, sharp pain as something pierced my skin.

Sorry, Riley.

Kye, I mean it. Stop.

But the hunger of his kiss didn't abate and annoyance swirled. I broke away from his lips, but didn't move back, my breathing harsh as I stared into the flame of his eyes. "How did you track the woman here?"

"Followed her scent."

His breath teased my lips as he spoke and sent my hormones on another merry dance. The swirl of anger grew stronger. Not just at him, but at myself. I might be a werewolf and the moon heat might be rising, but damn it, surely I had better control than this!

"She's a bird." I snapped. "Her scent would be dispersed by the air long before it got to a wolfs nose."

"I didn't mean her physical scent. I meant her magical one."

"What?" Maybe my mind was still a little fuzzy from covering us both in shadows, but I had no idea what he meant.

He shrugged. "I haven't the time to explain now."

And no intention of explaining later, either. "Walk away from the case, Kye. This is Directorate business."

He hesitated, but his gaze was calculated, watchful. "And this job is for my friend. Besides, this is my living. This is how I make my money and maintain my reputation. I won't let you take this kill away from me."

"Well, that's just too bad, isn't-"

The words stopped as a cold sensation rolled over me, making my knees want to buckle and my stomach stir. I swallowed against a suddenly dry throat and met his gaze. Remembered the brief flare of pain in my back. I thrust out a hand, twisting my fingers into his shirt and pulling him close.

"What have you done, you bastard?"

"What I had to do." His voice was so annoyingly calm and cool. If not for the heat still burning in his eyes, it would be hard to imagine we'd shared a mind-blowing kiss only moments before. "As I said, I can't let you stop me-and you were certainly planning to."

His arms went around me just as my knees gave way. I wanted to hit him, wanted to break away from his grip, but my muscles refused to obey me and my strength seemed to have slipped away.

"The effects of the drug won't last long," he added. "Maybe an hour or so. You'll be safe up here."

"Unless the witch comes back." The words were indistinct, slurred.

"She has no reason to. Her pentagram and her creature have been destroyed. She'll start up again somewhere else."

"You are in so much trouble, buddy boy," I muttered.

He smiled and, despite the anger, I couldn't help noticing the way little laughter lines teased the corners of his eyes. A full smile would be knee-buckling.

"It won't be the first time," he said, as he lowered me onto the catwalk.

I tried to retain my grip on him, but I might as well have been a baby grabbing at an adult.

"See you later, Riley," he said. His lips brushed my forehead, and then he was gone, his footsteps retreating along the metal walkway.

"Bastard," I said, as the darkness closed in around me.

"Riley?"

The voice was sharp and concerned. It was also very loud, spearing through the shadows of unconsciousness as fiercely as a foghorn.

I forced my eyes open, but for several seconds, nothing registered beyond the blackness and the cold metal that pressed into my side.

Then memory came back and I sat up abruptly.

Only to have my head just about explode in protest at the sudden movement.

"Ow," I muttered, pressing fingers to my temples and massaging lightly. It didn't do a lot to help the fierce ache behind my eyes.

"Damn it, Riley, answer me!"

Jack's voice reverberated through my head, shooting pain through my brain and making my eyes water.

I flicked my ear, switching the com-link fully on, then said, "I'm here, Jack. No need to shout."

"No need to shout? We've damn well been trying to contact you for the last fifteen minutes."

I rubbed a hand across gritty eyes, then glanced at my watch. It was nearly three. I'd been out for a good half hour. "Why have you been trying to contact me?"

"Because according to the tracker you've been stationary for forty minutes, and given that you're never still for that long, Sal figured something was wrong."

"Sal was right." She'd taken over as Jack's chief assistant when I'd reluctantly become a guardian two years ago. She was damn good at her job and had saved the lives of a couple of guardians through her quick response to signs of trouble. It was good to know she had my back as well, despite our somewhat antagonistic relationship.

"What happened?" Jack asked.

"Long story, but I was basically knocked out."

"Who by? And what happened to the zombie?"

I pushed up onto my feet. The warehouse walls seemed to spin around me and I had to grab at the railing to keep upright. The sensation abated quickly enough, but it left a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"The zombie is defunct. Eaten by hellhounds. There was a witch controlling it, but she took the form of a crow and flew off."

"So that's why there's never any evidence of a second party at the murder scenes. We were looking on the ground rather than up higher."

"Yeah. I didn't get much of a look at her, but I'd recognize her voice if I heard it again."

He grunted. It wasn't a happy sounding grunt, either. "So what happened?"

"Kye Murphy."

"Who's he?"

"A gun for hire. Our paths crossed a year ago, when he was playing bodyguard to the son of our pack's alpha."

"The one you and Rhoan beat up?"

Surprise ran through me, and it took me a moment to reluctantly admit, "Maybe."

He laughed. "Don't sound so shocked. There isn't much that goes on in this place that I don't know about."

Something I'd better remember in the future if I was planning any other little side excursions on Directorate time. I walked left along the railing until I found the tiny excuse for a ladder, then slowly-carefully-began to climb down. When my feet finally hit the concrete, some of the tension that had been riding me eased. I might be able to fly, but my fear of heights had never entirely vanished. I doubted it ever would.

"Look, Cole and his team are just about there-"

"You sent Cole after me?" I couldn't help the surprise in my voice. "Why send a cleanup team rather than a guardian?"

"They were the closest to your position, and Cole and his men can fight, trust me on that." His voice was dry. "He might as well check the zombie remains while he's there. At least we can confirm whether our killer was raised or not."

"There's not much more than blood here, boss. I'm afraid the hellhounds ate nearly everything else."

"What, even the bones and skull?"

"Yep." I walked toward the swing doors. "Was my being stationary the only reason you were trying to contact me?"

Even as I asked the question, I had my fingers crossed for the correct answer. After my near miss with Kye, I really needed to get home to my vampire.

"No. There's a disturbance at a house I want you to investigate, but it can wait until the morning. I'll send you the address."

Relief swam through me. Morning might almost be here, but at least I could catch a few hours alone with Quinn before I had to leave again. That'd be enough to take the edge off the hunger. "What's so special about this disturbance that we're investigating it?"

"He's an old friend of mine."

"How old a friend?"

"We were turned together."

Which made him a very old friend indeed, considering Jack had been turned over 860 years ago. I blew out a breath, then said, "I can drive over there tonight, if you'd prefer."

It was the last thing I actually wanted to do, but I owed Jack more than a few favors. Besides, friends that old were surely rare, even in the long-lived world of vampires.

Jack hesitated. "No, it should be all right. Armel thinks it may be a ghost of some kind. Things have been moved around or gone missing. Nothing major-just small things. He's just curious as to what is going on."

Hence the reason Jack had called me. He might be good at many things, but the one thing he couldn't do was see ghosts and souls.

Unfortunately, I could.

"Why did he call you rather than a clairvoyant or someone like that?"

"Because we're old friends, and I owe him a few favors."

Calling in the Directorate still seemed like overkill. But maybe that was why he was a long-lived vampire. "No one's broken in, I gather?"

"He believes not. He's got good security and he doesn't sleep all that much. He'd hear anyone entering his house."

Outside, a car pulled up, but the scents of wolf and bird were suddenly strong on the still air. I recognized both.

"Cole and his team have just arrived."

"Good. Once the situation there is sorted, go home and get some rest. I told Armel you'd be there at nine."

"Gee, thanks for letting me sleep in, boss."

"He wanted you there at six," Jack said dryly, "so be thankful for small mercies."

"Why so damn early?"

"He doesn't believe in wasting good daylight."

"He's a vampire. There's no such thing as good daylight, is there?"

"There is when you're old enough to enjoy it."

"Which neither you nor he is, so why the hurry?"

"Just because we can't play in it doesn't mean we can't enjoy it." Jack's voice was amused. "And be careful when you're there. Armel will flirt with anything that breathes, but he's partial to redheads."

"I've already got two old vampires in my life. I don't need another."

He laughed and signed off. I touched my ear to turn off the voice part of the com-unit, then pushed open one of the doors and said, "Cole, I'm down this way."

A second later, he appeared.

"So much for me hoping to save your pretty ass," he said dryly. His gray overalls were still blood-splattered from the previous crime scene and his silvery hair was darkened with sweat. "You just love spoiling my fun, don't you?"

I grinned. "Totally. Especially if it means me not laying somewhere half dead."

I looked beyond him as the similarly garbed Dobbs came into view. Like Cole, he was armed, his laser humming softly in the silence. Unlike Cole, he wasn't relaxing; his gaze constantly moved through the shadows. I was betting Dobbs could fight every bit as well as Cole. It was evident in the quiet way he moved. He reminded me of a predator about to strike.

I met Cole's gaze, noticing the sweat staining the collar of his overalls and the quick puff of his breath on the night air. "What, did you run here rather than taking the car or something?"

"Basically, yes." He stopped and swiped a hand at the sweat running down his cheek. "Well, I ran and Dobbs flew. Dusty collected the gear and car first."

Jack must have been worried to impart that sort of urgency. "Sorry to put you through that hassle for no good reason."

"I think you owe us a beer." He studied me for a minute, nostrils flaring, then said, "I smell another wolf."

He didn't actually say he could smell him on me, but that's what he meant. I smiled. "You know what us werewolves are like-we can find a man in the oddest places."

"Then he's not here now?"

"No." I stepped back, giving him room to enter. "But we have zombie remains-well, zombie blood and little else, really-sitting in a destroyed pentagram."

"The wolf did the pentagram?"

"No, he was hunting the woman who did. She had a couple of hellhound helpers, which proved a bit of a problem for both me and the wolf."

"So you know him?"

"Had a run-in with him last year. I won."

"But not this time." He paused, his gaze amused. "I gather he drugged you."

"Yeah." I stopped as we reached the smudged pentagram. "Might be worth getting one of the magi out here to look at this. They might be able to tell us what she was using it for."

"Something black would be my guess."

That went without saying. I mean, surely witches on the side of good didn't employ hellhounds or zombies to do their bidding. Our magi didn't-well, not as far as I knew, anyway.

"Our witch took the form of a crow and flew off, but while she was here, she was perched on the gantry above the pentagram." And her human scent still lingered-it was faint, but there, and I'd recognize it if I smelled it again.

Cole nodded. "We'll check it, and see if we can find any droppings or feathers."

"Might be worth doing the same at the crime scene-unless you've already checked the trees?"

"We had no reason to do so." He hesitated again. "Are you feeling all right? Your eyes are very bloodshot."

"Combination of the drug and shadowing, I think."

"I've seen you come out of shadow. It doesn't usually cause this reaction."

"I was shadowing two of us." I shrugged. "Maybe it's just plain tiredness. You'll send me the report ASAP?"

"As usual." He glanced around as Dobbs finished his perimeter check and approached. "You want to get a kit up to that gantry? We probably have shifter traces up there."

Dobbs nodded, gave me a half-smile, then walked away, reholstering his weapon as he went.

"He's a believer in the old adage that it's better to say nothing, isn't he?" I asked, amused.

"Totally," he agreed, a smile crinkling the corners of his blue eyes. "Unlike some guardians who just love to hear the sound of their own voice."

"And this is wrong because…?"

He made what sounded like a disgusted snort and shook his head. "You can leave anytime you want."

"You know, the amusement that still lingers on your lips is spoiling the whole stern effect you're trying for there."

"Riley, stop being a pain and go."

I went.

It didn't take all that long to drive back to Quinn's, but finding parking anywhere near the hotel, even at this hour, was a pain. I eventually gave up and just dragged out my Directorate parking tag. They might be for use only in emergencies, but hey, this was.

There was no one in the lobby, though I could hear voices in the office near the desk. I took the elevator up to Quinn's suite and walked down the plush, carpeted hallway to his door, dragging my key out of my pocket and swiping it through the reader.

The door clicked open. "You're back early," Quinn said, the rich Irish lilt in his voice sending shivers of delight down my spine.

He came out of the bedroom as I closed the front door, as naked as the day he was born. I couldn't help smiling. I'd once thought of this vampire as staid, but I'd learned over the past few weeks that staid only applied to new relationships. Once he knew-and, I suspected, trusted-his partner, he was as adventurous as any wolf could want.

He was also gorgeous.

It wasn't a term I often used to describe men, but with Quinn, it just fit. With his thick, black hair, sinfully dark eyes set in a face that would make angels envious, and an athlete's body, he was so easy on the eye it was dangerous.

And he was mine to play with. The thought made me want to dance.

"I thought you'd be gone most of the night."

"Thank God I wasn't."

He raised an eyebrow, dark eyes glittering with amusement and awareness. "Oh? Why's that?"

He was an empath, so he knew exactly what I was feeling, even if he was playing dumb. "Because of this."

I pressed a hand against his chest and pushed him back against the wall. Then I claimed his lips, kissing him like my life depended on it. Kissing him hard and urgently, until the taste of Kye was erased and my skin burned with the need for vampire rather than wolf.

"My, my," he murmured, when he could. "Chasing bad guys doesn't usually generate this sort of reaction. Not that I'm complaining, mind you."

"It wasn't chasing the bad guys, it was meeting another wolf. Now shut up and get down to business."

He grinned and did as he was bid.

And oh, it was good. Not just the way his hands caressed me as he stripped off my clothes, but the smell of him, the feel of him, the press of flesh against flesh. The way his body shuddered as I caressed and nipped him, the taste of his sweat on my tongue.

Then he was in me, filling me, liquefying me. I groaned in sheer pleasure and wrapped my body around his, holding us both still, enjoying the feel of his body pressed against mine and the heat of him deep inside. There was something so very perfect about the way we fit together, something magical. And it went beyond the physical-it was almost as if we were matched body and soul.

Almost.

As his lips claimed mine again, he began to move, gently at first but quickly becoming faster, until it was all heat and desperate need. The rich ache blossomed, becoming a kaleidoscope of delicious sensations that washed through every corner of my mind. I gasped, holding onto him tighter, wanting it faster, needing it harder. Needing him, and all he could give me. Then everything broke and I was unraveling, and there was no thought, only waves of glorious sensation that went on and on.

He came with me, and as his seed poured into me, his teeth grazed my neck and broke through flesh. A second orgasm hit, the intensity of it stealing my breath and my sanity for too many seconds, the power of it rolling on and on.

I rested my forehead against his and blew out a breath. "That was fantastic."

"That's one way of describing it," he said, voice amused as he lowered me back to the ground. "So, who's the wolf I should thank for this sudden rush of enthusiasm?"

I grinned as I stepped over my clothes and headed toward the coffee machine. Once upon a time, Quinn's voice would have held more than a hint of annoyance while asking such a question, but he seemed to have relaxed a little in recent weeks. Part of this might have been because while I hadn't entirely given up my werewolf ways, I'd willingly restricted them. But I also think the mere fact that we were spending real time together out of the bedroom had helped our understanding of each other.

"The wolf's name is Kye Murphy. He's a bounty hunter, and he's after the witch who's raising the zombies."

"It takes heavy-duty dark magic to reanimate flesh, and that means not only that she's a sorcerer rather than a witch, but that she's extremely powerful. You be careful hunting her."

"That goes without saying." I poured myself a coffee, sucking in the rich hazelnut aroma-a scent almost as tantalizing as the man behind me. "You've met Kye-he was the wolf playing bodyguard to Patrin."

"Ah, yes." He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me back against him, then dropped a kiss on the side of my neck, sending little shivers of delight down my spine. "There was something odd about that one. And he could move as fast as a vampire."

He also kissed as good as a vampire… but I shook the thought from my mind and took a sip of coffee before answering. "According to his records, he's all wolf. But he seems to have a few very different gifts that aren't on file."

"So you're investigating him?"

"We did when he was guarding Patrin. Right now, I've simply warned him away from the case."

"He probably won't listen. Most wolves tend not to."

I grinned and turned around in his arms. "That's a very cutting remark from someone who's planning to have more sex with a werewolf."

"I'm not planning sex. I'm planning a long night of hot and heated lovemaking."

I arched an eyebrow and said in low voice, "So what the hell are you waiting for?"

Amusement crinkled the corners of his dark eyes. "You're holding coffee, and you tend to get vicious when it's taken away."

I immediately put the cup down. "Only when there's nothing better being offered. You, my darling vampire, are certainly that."

"I'm glad you think so." He swept me up into his arms then walked toward the bedroom. "Because I intend to ravish you senseless for the next four hours."

"Only four? Age must be affecting your stamina."

"There's nothing wrong with my stamina, trust me."

A point he deliciously proved over the next four hours.

Traffic was hell the next morning, so I arrived at Armel's ten minutes late. Which I figured was pretty damn good, considering, but Jack hated tardiness and he'd probably chew me out once he found out. Of course, I could fly, and therefore could avoid the whole morning traffic situation if I wanted to, but I still preferred to drive. Shifting into my seagull shape had an even worse effect on my clothes than shifting into my wolf, and I wasn't about to face a randy old vampire flashing bits of flesh through torn clothing.

I climbed out of the car and looked up at Armel's house. It didn't exactly follow the expected conventions when it came to the abode of a very old vampire. It was as big as any other house situated in the millionaires-only suburb known as Toorak, but it was also a place of stark white concrete, odd angles, metal monoliths, and huge glass windows. And the garden had the same angular, sparse outlook. There was no grass, just harsh white pebbles, and sharply angled garden beds that were filled with carefully shaped plants.

Not a place I'd want to live, but then, disorder and I were comfortable companions.

I walked through the gates and up to the white marble steps, my footsteps echoing harshly in the cavernous entrance. The tall metal doors were stippled, the surface so highly polished that I had to squint against the brightness of the sunshine bouncing off them. I pressed the button to the right of the massive doors, and somewhere deep inside the house a sound rang out, reminding me somewhat of an old church bell.

I waited for several seconds, listening to the silence within the house and wondering if I'd even hear the approach of the old vampire. They could move with ghostly silence when they wanted to, though most vampires never bothered. Stealthy vamps tended to spook most humans, and given that many humans still weren't overly fond of vampires and their current place in society, spooking them often led to violence. That was never a good thing-for both the human and the reputation of vamps in general.

No one seemed to be answering the door, so I rang the doorbell again. Still no answer.

I stepped back and looked up at the massive windows. I wasn't sure what I was looking for, because I certainly wouldn't see a vampire standing there looking down at me. Even one as old as Armel couldn't withstand the sunshine that would currently be streaming in through the glass. Quinn could, but then, he was over four hundred years older than Armel. Which wasn't a whole lot of years in vampire terms, but apparently those extra years made a huge difference when it came to sunshine-immunity.

I looked back at the door, then grabbed my vid-phone and rang Jack.

"Don't tell me you're going to be late," he said by way of greeting. "I will not be happy if you are."

"I'm not late-"

"Miracle of miracles."

"I'm at Armel's. He not answering the door."

Jack frowned. "He's expecting you, so he should be there."

"Maybe he is. Maybe he's gone to sleep early." I hesitated, pressing the doorbell for a third time, just in case he was sleeping. "What do you want me to do, boss?"

"Try opening the door."

I did so. The knob turned easily in my hand and the huge door pushed open with barely a whisper of sound. "What's his surname?"

"Lambert."

I moved the phone away from my mouth, and said, "Mr. Lambert? Riley Jenson here to see you."

"Any response?" Jack asked, voice terse.

"No." I stepped through the doorway and sucked in the air, letting the various flavors run across my tongue. I quickly discovered one that was all too familiar. "I can smell blood, Jack."

He swore softly. "Investigate. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Jack, it's after nine-"

"I'll be fine," he snapped, and hung up.

I blew out a breath and shoved the phone back into my pocket, then stepped farther into the wooden-floored hallway. No one challenged my appearance. The house remained as quiet as a grave.

I hoped that it hadn't become one, too.

Though my footsteps were soft, the rubber heels on my shoes squeaked lightly and the sound echoed across the stark silence. If there was someone alive in this place-someone other than me-then I wasn't sensing him. But I couldn't sense anything dead, either. The only reason to suspect something was wrong was the thick scent of blood.

Large rooms led off the hallway-a dining room, living room, and the biggest library I've ever seen. At the far end of the hall stood a staircase, the chrome balustrade curving gently upward to the next floor. Somewhere up there was the source of the blood.

I stopped with one foot on the bottom step. "Mr. Lambert, are you up there?"

I didn't expect an answer and I didn't get one. After a moment's hesitation, I grabbed the handrail and began to climb. There was a runner on the stairs, so the squeak of my shoes was silenced, and a deep sense of gloom seemed to descend. Or maybe that was just my pessimistic nature coming to the fore.

The carpet continued on the next floor. I walked past several doorways, not bothering to look inside, following my nose to the source of the blood.

I found it in the end room, in what looked like a study.

Or rather, I found him.