Dangerous Games (15 page)

Oddly enough, it didn’t feel like a nanowire, either. The nanowires were the latest development in nanotechnology and protected the wearer against psychic intrusion. I didn’t know how they actually worked, but I did know that they were somehow powered by the heat of the body and offered up an extremely faint electronic tingle when in use.

So if his shields weren’t natural and weren’t technological, what were they? What else was there?

I didn’t know, but I sure as hell intended to find out.

In the meantime, I’d have to uncover my information the old-fashioned way—through sex and snooping—because there hadn’t been anything more useful than a home address listed on his Cattle Club personnel file. Even a full search had revealed little more than the fact he had no criminal record, and had studied psychology at a local university.

Of course, it was only five months ago that I’d been so determined
not
to fuck the enemy for the Directorate. And yet here I was, ready and willing to do that very thing. Though it did help that he was cute. And that I was getting no reading on him along the psychic lines. If he’d looked good but felt bad, it would have been a different story.

Maybe.

He raised his eyebrows. “Is there something wrong with bartending for a living?”

I smiled. “No. But you just don’t look like a man who’d be satisfied with a lifetime of bartending.”

“Ah.” He hesitated a moment, then shrugged. “I’m floating at the moment, doing a bit of this and that. I did the whole college thing, then couldn’t be bothered going into the field I trained for.”

“So you have other part-time jobs as well?”

“I work at the Hunter’s Club.” He looked at me like I was supposed to know it. “It’s a health club in the city. Runs yoga, Pilates, massage, spa therapies, gym. Stuff like that.”

A smile teased my lips. “Don’t tell me—you double as a masseuse, just to feel up all the pretty girls?”

He reached across the table, picking up my hand and turning it over. He ran a gentle finger from my palm to my wrist and back again, sending little shivers of delight scampering up my arm. “Only the very special ladies get my attention. I normally work in the gym area, as one of the fitness trainers. Did a course in one of my floating years.”

“So the ring is a Hunter’s Club ring?”

“Not really.” His grip tightened on my hand, crushing my fingers a little. It was an odd combination—the heated caress of his finger and the wispy ache of pain—and it had a slight tremble running through my limbs. As if I was on the verge of discovering something new. Which was weird, because there wasn’t much that was new to me when it came to the realms of basic sex. “Would you like to order coffee here, or would you prefer somewhere more intimate?”

He met my eyes as he said it, and in those warm brown depths I saw desire, barely controlled. And yet I couldn’t help noticing the change of subject. He didn’t want to talk about the ring—not in detail, anyway. Which was interesting considering he used it as an icebreaker. I raised a teasing eyebrow. “And just where is this ‘somewhere more intimate’?”

His smile was slow and sexy, and my ever-ready hormones did their usual little shuffle. “My place. It’s actually only a block away.”

“Ah, well.” I paused, pretending to consider it. “I have no idea whether this ‘coffee’ will be worth the race through the rain.”

“Then perhaps you would like a teaser taste?” He pulled back on my hand as he said it, gently forcing me to lean across the table.

“Love to,” I murmured, a heartbeat before his lips met mine. Our kiss was slow and tender, an explorative type of kiss shared by strangers who intended to soon be a whole lot more. Neither of us were breathing very steadily by the time we’d finished.

“So,” he said, his breath warm against my lips, “do I pass the test?”

I licked my lips, drawing his taste, his breath, into my mouth. “I think you could.”

“Then we’ll leave immediately.” He released me and motioned to the waiter for the bill. Once we’d paid, he helped me into my coat then guided me out, his hand resting in the middle of my back. Warmth pooled where his fingers rested, even through the thickness of the coat.

It was still raining outside, but the pelting force of earlier had at least eased to a fine drizzle. The night was still bitter, but between the amount of alcohol I’d consumed and Jin’s heated presence, I certainly wasn’t feeling it.

But we’d barely walked half a block when a familiar chill made me realize we were not alone.

Vampires stalked us.

Great. Just great. How was I supposed to deal with them without giving the game away to Jin?

I stopped and took off a shoe, shaking it lightly as I tried to pinpoint the location of the vamps. They were across the street, keeping the shadows wrapped around them as they hurried to get ahead of us. Their hunger mingled with their scent, stealing like a thief across the night, filling my nostrils and sending chills scampering across my skin. Their smell was of the freshly dead. Baby vamps, not mature ones.

So, were they the same ones who’d left the mauled body Rhoan had been sent to investigate, or two completely different ones? And who was making all these vamps and then setting them free?

For no real reason, Gautier’s image flashed through my thoughts. It actually made a sick sort of sense for him to be doing this. He knew the Directorate was short staffed. He knew it’d stretch us to the limit and therefore cut down our ability to hunt
him
.

Jin swung around, his gaze searching the night before coming back to mine. “What’s wrong?”

“Stone in my—”

I didn’t get the chance to finish, because the two vampires shook off the shadows and attacked. Jin made a sound low in his throat, then pushed me out of the way. I staggered backward for several steps, then caught my balance and ducked under the fist of one of the vamps. He chuckled softly, an amused sound that grated against my nerves. As the vamp came at me a second time, I kicked off my other shoe, caught it midair, then whirled around and smacked the wooden heel of the stiletto across his chin. Flames trailed where the wood touched flesh, and the smell of burned skin caressed the air. He frowned and glanced down at the shoes I held in surprise.

Obviously, he didn’t realize the heels were wood, and I didn’t give him the time to work it out. I kicked him, with all the force I could muster, in the goolies. Air left his lungs in a whoosh of sound that was all agony, and as he hunched forward, I swung a fist, hitting his chin hard and knocking him out cold.

I whirled around to help Jin, only to stop in shock. The other baby vamp lay at his feet, moaning in agony, his legs and arms bent at odd angles. Jin was barely even breathing fast, but as I watched he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, as if the scent of the baby vamp’s pain was somehow fueling his body.

Which was a very weird thing to think. But chills scampered across my body anyway—if only because no lone human should have been able to defeat a vampire. Not even a baby one.

So, did that mean Jin was something other than human? And if so, why were my senses still reading him as human? Or was it merely a case of him having psychic talents at his disposal? I glanced down at the vamp, at the pain and fear etched on his face. Psychic talents that broke limbs? I’d never heard of something like that before, but I was by no means an expert. I couldn’t even define my own talents, for Christ’s sake.

I grabbed my cell and made a quick call to the Directorate to order in a cleanup team—though I made out for Jin’s sake that I was just reporting the attack. I’m sure the caramel cow thought I was crazy. But then, she undoubtedly thought that
long
before this phone call.

Jin blew out a soft breath as I hung up, then opened his eyes and turned around to fully face me. There was a spark in his dark eyes that spoke of something almost alien. Otherworldly. Another chill ran across my skin and yet, perversely, the wolf in me reacted with fierce desire. The strongest alpha in the pack was always the most desirable, and this man, alien eyes or not, had me wanting him so badly it was painful.

As his gaze met mine, he smiled. It was a ferocious thing to witness. The thought of retreat flashed through my mind, but before I could decide, he took five quick steps, wrapped a hand around the back of my neck, and kissed me. Hard. His other hand slid around my waist, pulling me against him, so that the thickness of his erection pressed against my groin. It felt so very, very good.

“I want you.” His voice was a harsh growl filled with a passion every bit as fierce as mine. The hand at my back slid down my spine, past my butt, onto thigh. Goose bumps flitted across my skin and I wasn’t entirely sure whether its cause was desire or the unnatural warmth of his caress. “Here, now.”

“Not here.” His fingers had slipped under the stretch satin, and it was all I could do not to move, to guide those fingers to where it ached so badly. “Your place. It’s warmer.”

He made a low sound of frustration then grabbed my hand and pulled me forward, forcing me into a run. Water splashed across my bare legs, but if they were chilled I couldn’t feel it. Jin’s heat and desire and something else—an energy I could sense but not name—pulsed over me in waves, causing perspiration to dot my skin and my blood to boil through my veins.

If he had been were, I would have thought he was using his aura to make me compliant and ready. And, God help me, I
was
ready, for whatever he wanted to dish up.

We turned left into a side street. Three houses down, he pushed open a gate and raced me up the front steps. I had a brief glimpse of a white painted, classic double-story Victorian town house, then the paneled door was opened and I was all but pushed through.

“First right,” he said, as he slammed the door shut.

I walked into the lounge room, stripped off my coat, and tossed it onto the nearest chair. My shoes were flung in the same direction, but I kept my purse long enough to grab some condoms.

Though I heard no footsteps—despite the wooden floors—he was suddenly behind me, his hot hands briefly brushing my thighs as he grabbed my dress and pulled it roughly over my head.

He made a low noise of appreciation, then pushed a hand against my spine and propelled me across the room toward the back of the big old leather sofa.

“Grasp it,” he ordered.

I did. He grabbed the condoms from me, kept one, then tossed the rest onto the sofa. After kicking my legs farther apart, he began to explore, his touch so fierce it was almost bruising as he pinched and caressed and teased, until the need to have him inside was so intense I thought I’d surely explode.

And then he bit me, hard, on the shoulder. Somewhere in the last few minutes pain and pleasure must have become one, because I gasped aloud at the exquisiteness of it.

“You like it rough,” he commented, breath harsh and fast against my shoulder.

“No,” I somehow managed to say. “But that felt good.”

Why
was the question. I’d never been into the whole pain-for-pleasure routine, though I had played around the edges of it a few times.

This was already further than I’d ever stepped before. Further than I’d ever
wanted
to step. And yet I couldn’t stop it, didn’t want to stop it, and some deep down part of me worried about that. Worried if it was willingness and pleasure or something else that was allowing previously set boundaries to slide.

But that tiny spark of worry had no hope of stopping events. Not when the tide of pleasure was rising.

His teeth scraped my skin, nipping and teasing as he moved down, then he bit again, this time on my rump. I shuddered, unable to hold back a thick groan that was part pleasure, part pain.

He drew a deep breath, as if sucking in the sound. His fingers trembled against my skin, evidence of the control barely maintained. “Perhaps a little bit rougher?”

Part of me shuddered at the thought but I didn’t say anything, too caught up in the moment to protest now.

He slapped my rear. Like the bite, it was hard, and sent little jolts of stinging electricity skating across my skin. I groaned, seesawing between desire and pain, part of me wanting to push it further, part of me resisting and wanting to hit back.

“How good does that feel?”

He gave me no chance to answer, but slapped again, harder still, leaving my butt stinging and my body quivering.

“Very good,” I gasped. So why was I suddenly so willing to push the limits here with Jin? I had no idea, and that in itself was scary.

Then I remembered the odd energy I’d sensed earlier. Was Jin using an aura the same way a wolf might? But how was that possible if he was human?

“And this?” His sudden bite was brutal, but the swell of pain was met with a kiss, his heated lips somehow easing away the ache. My knees just about buckled under the flood of sensation.

“Good, good,” I somehow said.

He slapped again, this time my thigh, and sharp enough to have tears stinging my eyes. And then he was in me, driving deep, the icy feel of the condom an almost painful contrast to the warmth of my body. Yet it felt so good I moaned.

His grip bruised my hips as he held me still and thrust and thrust, until it felt as if the cool, latex-covered heat of him was trying to claim every single inch of me.