Dangerous Games (Riley Jenson Guardian #4) - Page 9

Houston, we have a problem. I was gripping the knife so hard my knuckles positively ached, but I hadn't yet drawn the blade from the sheath. I had a bad feeling that if I moved, if I so much as twitched, the thing in the corner with the fearsome-looking teeth would attack.

And those teeth looked strong enough to bite me in half.

There's a demon? Quinn's tension suddenly flooded the link between us, until I wasn't sure where his ended and mine began.

If a hellhound is classed as a demon, then yeah, one of them.

A hellhound is a stronger class of demon, and won't be stopped by the salt. It can, however, be burned by holy water.

I awkwardly began to undo the lid of the water bottle one-handed. As shields went, it didn't inspire a whole lot of confidence. Particularly when the creature lowered its head and snarled again. The sound rolled around the room, and if I'd been in wolf form, hackles would have risen. This thing might be a demon, but it was a doggy demon, and my wolf soul just didn't take to being threatened by anything canine.

Which is why I mostly kept my wolf in check. Sometimes she had absolutely no sense.

Do I need to slice its head off to kill it, or will any old well-placed stab work?

Slowly, carefully, I began to draw the knife from the sheath. The rumbling growl got louder, the threat in the creature's eyes sharper.

I'm afraid you'll have to take its head off.

Crap. That meant getting closer to those needle-sharp, feet-long teeth than anyone with any sort of sense would want to.

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The knife finally inched clear of the sheath. The hellhound's growl reverberated again, a low sound of warning and anger. Tension crawled through my limbs and sweat broke out across my brow. With the knife at the ready, I continued my awkward attempt to undo the water bottle.

The hellhound sprang. I threw myself sideways, hitting the wooden floor harder than necessary and driving the air from my lungs. As I gasped at the shock, the bottle slipped from my hand and rolled away, spurting droplets of water that sizzled and steamed across the floor as it did so. I cursed and lunged after it, only to hear the click of sharp nails tearing wood as the creature came at me again. I rolled away and slashed sideways with the knife. The blade scraped across the hound's hide, slicing through hair but not skin.

It snarled, revealing nasty-looking gums to accompany the nasty teeth. I jumped to my feet, waving the knife in front of me, trying to catch the creature's attention long enough to try an attack. It was smarter than that. Its gaze stayed on mine, luminous and deadly. The fear stirring my stomach got stronger. I hadn't signed on to fight creatures of myth and magic. Psychos and rogue vampires were more than enough for me.

The hellhound sprung again. I twisted out of its way, slashing at the soft flesh of his neck, hoping to at least sever something vital. Rut it shifted at the last moment, becoming something less than substantial, and suddenly it was behind me.

Teeth sank into my flesh, spilling warmth down the back of my leg. I bit back a scream and twisted around, driving the knife blade deep into the creature's right eye, into his skull.

Blood gushed from the creature's eye socket, spilling warmly over my fingers. The creature roared and wrenched its head backward, tearing my flesh in the process. Pain Hashed white hot through my body, and my breath hissed through clenched teeth. But I kept a grip on the knife, and forced myself to move – hobble – out of the creature's immediate reach.

My knife blow had been hard enough, and deep enough, to have struck brain matter. It should have killed it outright. It didn't, because this was no ordinary beastie. Something I'd partially forgotten in the heat of battle.

The hound shook its head, spraying droplets of blood that hit the force-warding stones and sizzled out of existence. Then it leapt, arcing across the small space that separated us. Again I twisted out of the way, but this time it must have been expecting the move, because it shifted in midair. Its body hit mine, thrusting me forward with incredible force.

I smashed into the wall face-first, crushing my nose and splitting my lip. Blood spurted, the metallic taste filling my mouth and making my stomach stir threateningly. For a moment, everything was red, and I wasn't sure if it was blood or the angry energy of the nearby warding stones. I pushed away from the wall, felt rather than saw the impetus of the hound's approach, and dropped flat and rolled. Only to remember the stones. I thrust out a hand, stopping my momentum inches from the warding circle even as I slashed at the air with the knife. The silver blade cut through the flesh of the creature's underbelly as it sailed over my length, missing the hissing wall of energy by a whisker. Black blood spurted from the creature's wound, spraying across my face and arms and stinging like acid.

I swore and scrambled away, following the line of stones, using it to protect one side of my body, in much the same way as I might have used a wall. The electricity of it buzzed across my face, and the warning flickers of red fire cut across the shadows, giving the room a sullen angry glow.

Slicing open the hound's stomach didn't appear to be slowing it down any, though I don't know why I expected it to when stabbing a knife into its brain had zero effect. As I stood there, staring at the creature staring at me, the realization came that this was a fight I was never going to win. Not playing it this way. He was too quick, too strong. And he was a demon without living restrictions.

This thing is going to tear me to pieces before I ever get near its neck.

Then use the power of the stones against it.

Won't that warn our magician that something is going on?

Yes, but if you do not think you can sever its head, then we have little other choice.

Okay. I took a deep breath, then made a sideways leap for the barrier. The hound attacked the minute I moved, slashing out with wickedly barbed claws. I twisted and dropped at the last moment, but the creature's blow caught my left sleeve and tore into flesh. It didn't matter, because it was concentrating on me rather than where it was going, and that's exactly what I wanted. The creature hit the wall of energy and the stones reacted instantly. Red fire erupted, surrounding the hellhound in a whirling, incandescent cauldron of flame, burning it, consuming it, in little more than a blink of the eye, until there was nothing left, not even ash, to scatter lifelessly down to the floor.

I blew out a breath, thankful the wards didn't appear to discriminate between evil and good. I guess that made sense, though. It was probably easier to protect the circle from all comers rather than raise a discriminatory type of magic. If that was even possible. One hellhound dead and gone.

Relief spun down the telepathic line. Are you okay?

I pushed into a sitting position and took stock. The wound on my leg was the worst – the creature's claws had sunk deep, tearing three bloody trenches down from my thingh. And it fucking hurt.

The scratches on my arm were no less bloody or painful, but at least the hound's claws had only caught a fraction of skin. The top was a goner, though. My lip and nose hurt, but were really the least of my problems.

The bastard got me a couple of times.

Use the holy water to cleanse the wounds then, before shifting. Demon marks can fester and not heal otherwise.

Even for a werewolf?

Werewolves aren't immune to the forces of magic – whether they be light or dark – simply because you are creatures of magic yourselves.

I shucked off my shredded top, then leaned sideways and picked up the bottle of water I'd dropped. The creature hadn't given me time to undo the lid properly before it attacked, so only a little had managed to escape. I undid the top the rest of the way, and poured some of the water over all the wounds.

About half a minute after the water hit my flesh, it turned white and began to bubble and burn like crazy. I clenched my teeth against the scream rising up my throat, and mentally swore for all I was worth at Quinn.

His amusement drifted down the mental line. If I'd warned you, you wouldn't have done it.

Too right, you bastard, I said, when I could.

If you had changed before applying the water, you would have carried the infection into your body. You would have died from it, Riley, because there is no cure for the poison of demon bites once it takes hold.

Not even a magical cure?

He hesitated. There are magical cures, but I am no magician, and there are few left in this day and age who even believe in demons, let alone know the spells to cure their bite.

Which is odd, isn't it, when you consider we have all manner of nonhumans still running around. I shifted shape as the bubbling finally cased, staying in my wolf shape for several seconds before shifting back. It healed the scratches on my arm, and stopped my split lip from bleeding, but my leg was going to take several more shifts to fully repair. And I was still going to end up with bruising, a puffy mouth, and a sore nose, no matter what. Thankfully, I wasn't seeing Jin tonight, because the mouth and the nose would be a little hard to explain away.

But magic is a skill learned, Quinn said, and like any skill, it can be lost.

Like the priests of Aedh are lost? I grabbed the water bottle and pushed upright. Pain slithered up my leg but otherwise, it was fine. There was no more bleeding, at least, though I had no doubt the already pretty bruising would get worse.

The priests are not lost. They are destroyed.

That one in the alley didn't look very destroyed to me.

You did not see him. You only heard him.

True. I considered the circle for a moment, then tossed some water toward it. The stones didn't react, allowing the water to arc right through the middle of them. The stream hit one edge of the pentagram, where it began to sizzle and steam.

The holy water passed through the warding stones.

Ah. Good. That means she's set the wards to react to flesh and blood, not inanimate objects.

Then why did it react to the demon? They aren't real and living in the human sense of the word.

They are when they're in flesh form. Sprinkle the salt liberally across the pentagram, then use the water to form two circles around the warding stones. Make sure there's about five feet between each one.

Why? I began to spread the salt around, making sure my hand didn't actually go anywhere near the flickers of red lightning.

Because evil might be able to step over one circle, but it can't step over two.

I couldn't see why not, but then, I didn't know a whole lot about magic, holy water, and demons. Nor did I really want to learn anything more.

I finished spreading the salt, covering as much of the pentagram's surface as I could, then did the two circles. The water sizzled like acid as it hit the floor, burning a light trench in the wood and filling the room with whitish steam.

With that done, I got the hell out of there. Quinn pulled off his sweater and offered it to me as I closed the front door.

I looked at the sweater, then at him. "You don't like me half naked?"

"I love you naked, but you can't drive home like that because the cops will pull you over."

He shoved the sweater my way again. I crossed my arms and pointedly ignored the offer. I had clothes in my car if I wanted them. I didn't need his, no matter how deliciously warm they might smell. "Why would I be driving home?"

"Because you need to shower and rest."

"And what will you be doing while I'm showering and resting?" I knew exactly what he'd be doing. I just wanted to know if he'd actually admit it. Admit that he was mollycoddling me yet again. I mean, hell, yeah, I was bloody and sore and in desperate need of a bath, but it wasn't the first time and it probably wouldn't be the last. And it certainly didn't stop me from doing my job.

It was scary to think I now actually considered being a guardian my proper job. Lord, how things had changed.

"I'm going to be taking care of our magician." He placed the sweater on my shoulder.

I shifted my shoulder and let it slip to the ground. "Not alone, you won't be."

His obsidian gaze seemed to be growing darker, deeper, until it felt like I was falling into a tunnel – a tunnel I could so easily, so willingly get lost in. This vampire might not be my soul mate, but that didn't mean there wasn't something good between us. Something special.

An alarm went off somewhere in the back of my thoughts. I blinked, but the sensation of being caught by the darkness of his eyes didn't go away.

"You will go home, Riley," he said softly, "and you will rest."

The tunnel seemed to be getting deeper and deeper, until it was all around me, swamping me, overrunning my will and my mind. All I could see was the coal-dark depths of his eyes and all I could hear was his words. The compulsion to obey them swam through me, beating at my skin, my nerves, my brain. So much so that I actually took a step back before I realized it. It took a whole lot of determination to stop a second step and remain still.

I knew then what he was doing.

Anger hit, fast and furious, momentarily weakening the force of his command. I slammed down my shields and severed the mental connection between us, but it was too late, far too late. The compulsion had already been embedded into my consciousness, a desire that beat at my senses with every rapid heartbeat.

I clenched my fists and resisted the urge to scream and rant and rave at him. It took every ounce of control I had to simply say instead, "Don't do this."

He raised an eyebrow. "Don't do what?"

My hands were clenched so hard my fingernails were beginning to dig into my palms. The pain helped keep my anger in check, and the compulsion momentarily at bay.

"Don't play me for a fool, Quinn. I warned you once what would happen if you ever tried to use your vampire wiles on me, and I meant every word."

He looked away for a second, studying the street behind me, his expression calm, giving little away. If anything, that very lack of expression only increased the fury rising inside me. I hated the fact I could never read him as well as he could read me.

Hated the fact he was forcing me to a decision I never wanted to make. And an action I never wanted to take.

He looked back and said, "I'd rather have you angry and alive, than dead." His fingers touched my cheek, his skin so warm against mine. "Be sensible. Go home and be safe."

I resisted the urge to press into his caress and jerked my face away instead. "No. And all you're doing is proving you still don't trust me."

"I trust you. I just don't believe you or the Directorate can handle these people."

"You can't go after these people alone."

"I destroyed them once. I can do it again."

"Quinn – "

"No," he interrupted tersely, "I have lost too many people I care about in the past to evil such as this. I will not lose you as well."

His command still beat inside my brain, growing in intensity, until every muscle trembled with the need to obey. I wouldn't be able to resist it for much longer, and we both knew it. "Even at the cost of never seeing me again?"

He smiled. "You're a werewolf. You can no more deny great sex than you can the moon change."

I stared at him for several seconds, shocked that he could even thinly that. And at that moment, I not only hated what he was doing, but I hated him.

It wouldn't last long – couldn't last long, because it was really only anger, not hate itself. But the words hurt, regardless. Did he really think so little of my integrity that he thought a good fuck could cure me of all concerns? Did he really think I wouldn't go through with my threat? "You have a whole lot to learn about werewolves, matey. Or at least this one."

"Go home, Riley. Rest and recover from your wounds. I'll see you in the morning."

"No, you won't fucking won't see me in the morning. Or any other morning."

"Riley – "

"Fuck off."

With little other recourse left, I spun and walked away. His gaze just about burned a hole in my back, but I didn't look around. I strode up the street, around the corner, and across the road. I didn't see the car, only heard the screech of tires as the driver swung to avoid me. A beer-fueled male hung out the passenger window and made several crude comments.

I swore at him too, then shifted to my wolf shape. I wasn't in the mood for male attention of any kind right now – which just went to show the depths of my fury. The moon was riding high and the fever should have had some influence over my reaction to the comments and the man.

I walked on, wishing I'd parked closer. My nails clicked on the concrete, a soft tattoo that echoed in time with the anger beating through my veins. Which is probably why it took me several more minutes to realize the compulsion to go home was nowhere near as strong as it had been.

I stopped.

Go home, go home, go home. The words were still a mantra in my brain, looping round and round. And yet, like the moon hunger, it was a compulsion that I suddenly seemed able to push into the background and ignore. Why?

I shifted back to human shape. The force of the compulsion jumped back into focus, as strong and as sharp as the moon fever spinning through my veins. My feet moved forward without any real command on my part, padding along the pavement at a decent clip. Shifting back into wolf form seemed to once again ease both compulsions.

Well, well, well.

No one had ever told me that being in wolf shape would ease the fever, but in some ways, it made sense. Werewolves didn't make love while holding wolf form – at the very least, it was considered disrespectful, often an act of degradation, and, at the very worst, an act of rape. If you respected your partner, you just didn't mate in animal form. It was one of those unwritten rules every wolf, young or old, knew.

Besides, what sane werewolf really wanted to ease the moon fever in any other way besides the time-honored, human-style method of mating?

But how many people knew the force of a vampire's compulsion could actually be muted by body form? Quinn's order to go home had been embedded deep into my human brain, but wearing my wolf skin seemed to somehow transmute that order into something that could be, if not totally squashed, then at least ignored.

Which was a very handy thing to know – not that it would matter anymore when it came to Quinn. He was out of my life, whether he believed it yet or not.

The thought made me swear internally. At him, at my job, at fate in general. Dammit, why couldn't anything go smoothly?

There were a lot of things I could put up with in a relationship – hell, I'd proven that by putting up with an arrogant, self-centered asshole like Talon for so long. Quinn could be that, and a whole lot more at times, but he could also be an amazingly caring and gentle man, and so totally fun to be with. We were good together, at least when he wasn't being an ass.

But the one thing I've never liked is partners who tried to use force to make me do what they wanted. It was simply unacceptable.

And that's the line Quinn had crossed tonight, even if he'd used psychic strength rather than physical strength.

It's not as if he didn't know how I felt. I'd warned him more than once. Now I had to back those words up with action. Had to. If I didn't, he'd just ride roughshod over my entire life. Give a vamp an inch, and he'd sure as hell try to take a mile, and Quinn had proven that adage true time and again.

God, why did he have to force the issue? Why couldn't he have just let me do my job, whether or not it was safe? Life itself was unsafe – death could hit anytime, any place. Wrapping me cotton wool was never going to work, no matter what he thought. I wasn't the type of girl who enjoyed being pampered and fussed over twenty-four hours a day. I could never be that type of girl, even if I wasn't now a guardian. And if that's what he wanted in a relationship, then he was chasing the wrong bit of tail.

And speaking of chasing, this bit of tail had a job to do.

Ignoring the pang of sadness, and the deeper, darker ache that seemed centered somewhere close to my heart, I turned around and loped back toward Jin's house.

Quinn had moved from Jin's doorway and taken up residence in the shadows of a garden several houses down. I padded along on the opposite side of the street, keeping close to the cars parked along the curb, using the metal and the shadows to help hide my form. Not that I really thought he'd see me – he was watching for evil, not for a wolf. Besides, I very much doubted the possibility that I could shake his compulsion would even cross his mind.

When I was close to Jin's house, I positioned myself between two cars, keeping low and deep in the shadows, and waited. There wasn't much traffic at this hour, but the night was far from quiet. People moved in the house behind me, flushing toilets and turning lights on and off. Laughter drifted on the night air, and somewhere in the distance music heavy in bass played, making me want to tap my paws.

Quinn didn't move. Neither did I.

Time ticked by. The moon reached its zenith and began to wane. I crossed my front legs and shifted my rear ones, trying to find a comfortable position. The cold, hard pavement wasn't helping the aches any.

It had to be nearing three when a car finally pulled to a stop in front of Jin's house. It wasn't Jin – the legs that appeared underneath the car door as it opened were decidedly feminine, as was the flowery scent that spun through the air.

The car door slammed shut, revealing a short blonde wearing four inch heels, rolled up jeans, and a purple crop top. She was a little on the overweight side, but absolutely stunning to look at. Her keys jangled loudly and silver flashed, drawing my gaze. Two letters hung from the ring – ME Short for Maisie Foster? If it was, she wasn't the least what I expected a mage to look like.

She made her way through Jin's gate and up the steps. I glanced at the house where Quinn hid, and felt shock ripple through me.

He was gone.

Completely gone.

And yet I'd seen or heard no movement and his car was still parked up the road.

How could he leave without me catching some hint of it? He may have vampire speed, but even if he'd moved faster than a speeding bullet, I still should have caught some hint of it. Should have seen the disappearing flare of his life force.

Frowning, I scanned the area with infrared, looking for some sign of him. Why would he wait all this time for Maisie, then run off? It made no sense at all.

Then I caught the familiar scent of sandalwood and masculinity on the air. Quinn's scent.

He was still here, even if I couldn't see him.

I raised my nose, drawing in the scent, trying to find direction. It was coming from high above me. Not from the rooftops, but from the sky itself.

My gaze went to the night and the stars, but there was nothing to be seen beyond the gathering clouds and the brightly shining moon.

What the hell was going on? Vampires couldn't fly – not unless they were bird-shifters in their pre-vampire life, anyway. And whatever else he was, Quinn wasn't a shifter. Of that, I was sure.

Then something he'd said a few months ago came back to me. I'd asked him how he'd gotten into Starr's compound without Rhoan or anyone else seeing him, and he'd said, I simply ceased to exist in any term the human mind recognizes.

Shame he'd forgotten to mention the same damn talent allowed him to fly.

My gaze went back to Maisie. She'd reached the front door and was searching through her bag. Obviously, she didn't keep her door keys on the same tag as her car keys. For a powerful mage, she was kinda dumb.

Quinn's scent sharpened, and I had a sudden sense of movement through the air, though there was still nothing to be seen.

At the last possible moment, Maisie seemed to sense the same thing, because she swung around and gasped. A hand formed out of thin air, chopping down hard. Maisie dropped to the steps like a stone.

Quinn's form seemed to merge from the night as he drifted down the steps, landing neatly and lightly next to Maisie's body. He studied her for a moment, then looked around, his gaze skimming past my hidey-hole with nary a pause of concern. Then he bent, picked Maisie up, and walked down the steps toward his car. He placed her in the passenger seat, then climbed into the driver's seat, started the engine, and zoomed off. I watched the car disappear, then backed out of my hiding spot and shifted shape. The compulsion and the moon heat leapt into focus, but one was now stronger than the other.

Maybe shifting into wolf shape several times had finally muted the strength of Quinn's order. Which was good, because I needed to go to the club and do some serious ache-easing.

As my steps echoed across the still night, I pressed the com-link in my ear and said, "Hello, hello, anyone tuned in?"

"I'm always tuned-in, unlike some former liaisons who shall go unmentioned."

Oh joy. The caramel cow. "And a good evening to you, too, Sal."

"What do you want, Riley?"

Pleasantry, which I was never going to get talking to her. But I guess I wasn't overly generous with it myself, so I was hardly in a position to bitch.

Which had never stopped me before.

"Jack around anywhere?"

"One moment, please."

The sound of heels clicking came through the earpiece, meaning Jack was somewhere other than his desk. "Riley?" he said, after a moment. "Did you take care of our mage?"

"Not exactly."

"What happened?"

"Quinn happened." And just mentioning his name had the barely settled anger rising again.

Jack sighed. "What's he done this time?"

"He's just kidnapped our little mage."

"What?"

"Yeah. We did foul the pentagram through which she was calling the demons, which according to him was better than destroying it, because it will force her to expend more energy making a new one."

"In dark spells, it's usually the magician's blood that fuels the summoning. Fouling it won't actually stop her using it, it'll just prevent her from calling through certain types of entities."

"Meaning I should have destroyed it?" That Quinn had spun yet another lie?

"She would have sensed the destruction. It might have driven her – and the rest of them – underground." He paused, and the sound of liquid hissing into a cup came down the line. He was either in the day-shift operations room or the foyer, where the other coffee machine was situated. "What happened after that? How come Quinn kidnapped the mage and why aren't you with him?"

"Because the bastard pulled his vampire wiles on me – embedded an order to go home while our telepathic line was open."

"Game man. Has he still got his balls?"

I grinned, and very much suspected there was nothing pleasant about it. Amusement wasn't high on my list of emotions right now. "For the moment. I did make an interesting discovery in the process of going home, though – becoming a wolf actually transmutes the compulsion."

"Does it? That's interesting."

"Yeah. Once I'd discovered that, I naturally headed back to see what Quinn was up to. That's when I discovered he could not only make himself totally invisible to all senses except scent, but that he could also fly."

"What?"

"Well, I'm not actually sure if he was flying. I couldn't see wings or anything. He seemed to be more drifting."

"Even very old vampires cannot fly."

"But before he was vampire, he was half-human and half something else," I corrected. "And that other half is something that doesn't exist anymore."

"Only birds – or bird-shifters – fly."

"So do gryphons. So do a hundred other things that can't be classified as birds."

"None of which Quinn is."

I raised my eyebrows. "Then you know what he is?"

"Nope. I only know what I've been told."

By his sister, no doubt, who was the next one up the vampire ladder from Quinn. Which, in itself, was a mystery waiting to be solved, because Jack was a whole lot younger in vampire terms than Quinn and his sister. "Quinn's driving a black Porsche." I gave him the license plate number, then added, "He's got GPS in the car – don't suppose you can plug into the satellite and backtrack to see where he is going?"

"It'll take a bit of time to find his car-code and then track him, but we can try."

"And in the meantime, what do you want me to do?"

"Any word from Jin?"

"No." Of course, it was hard to get word when I had the phone off But I wasn't about to mention that because Jack would kill me.

"Any chance that you could get an invite to their dinner party tomorrow night?"

Who'd have guessed that was coming? "Can't you get the infrared working?"

"No. He's got some of the most sophisticated shielding in that house that I've ever come across. We can get their body heat and positioning, but we're still only catching snippets of actual conversation."

"I can try." Turning on my phone would probably be a good start. Given the frustration burning down the telepathic line earlier, Jin was one needy little demon. And while he could go out and get himself another girl, he'd gained a taste for werewolf flesh. And it wasn't a boast to say we did hard sex better than most humans, simply because we had the stamina.

"Then try. We need to get into that house and see what they're up to."

I blew out a breath, and hoped like hell that Jin had learned his lesson and started fucking like a normal psycho rather than an abnormal one.

Though was there any such thing as an abnormal psycho?

"I'm heading to the Blue Moon, boss. Give me a call on the cell if you happen to track down Quinn."

"Will do."

I touched my ear once to turn off sound but not tracking, changed my clothes, then climbed into my car, and drove on to the club. As usual, there was a queue out the front, though given the full moon was still a few days off, it wasn't all that bad. I walked past them and ignored the annoyed comments thrown my way. If they were stupid enough not to make a permanent table bo