Dangerous Games (24 page)

“You will discover soon enough.”

And with that, he attacked.

It was like fighting a cyclone—he was all power, speed, and bloody force, and stopping him was next to useless. He’d been bred for fighting and killing, and I was only a new inductee. And a reluctant one at that.

I twisted away from his blows, then backed away as fast as I could. I didn’t want to fight Gautier—not now, and not in the future. And especially not when Rhoan was on his way armed with weaponry that would kill the bastard once and for all.

But Gautier didn’t follow my retreat. Just stopped and shook the shadows from his form again. He gave me a grin, and sucked in a deep breath.

“Ah, fear. Such a sweet, sweet thing.”

A familiar tingle ran across my skin, telling me Rhoan was near. I didn’t react, not even when the red light of a laser cut across the night, arcing toward Gautier.

But he must have sensed Rhoan’s presence at the last moment, because he twisted away suddenly. The laser aimed at his head cut into his shoulder instead, and the smell of burned flesh spun through the air.

Gautier laughed.
Laughed.

The man was terminally insane, there was no doubt about it.

But while he might be insane, he wasn’t stupid. He gave us a respectful bow, then faded into the night and ran away.

“Never attack Riley without looking over your shoulder for me,” Rhoan shouted to his fleeing form. Then he gave me a grin and casually flung the laser rifle over his shoulder. “Want to give chase?”

“As much as I enjoy a good hunt, that bastard probably has a trap ready and waiting.”

“Probably. But it’s all part of the fun.”

“You’re as mad as he is.”

“Not really.” He leaned forward and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “I’m not insane enough to tackle you alone.”

I grinned. “Only because I’m armed with saucy secrets your lover would just adore to hear, and you know I’m not afraid to use them. I don’t have that advantage over Gautier.”

“The only advantage we’ll ever have over him is if we tackle him together.” He slipped an arm through mine and began guiding me down the street. “Next time you scent him, don’t stand there waiting. Just run.”

“And give him the satisfaction of my fear? No way in hell.”

He looked at me, eyebrow raised. “And you call me mad?”

“Well, it does run in the family, you know.”

He chuckled softly, then said, “So, give me an update on your date.”

I did, including what Jack had said about the old Persian legends and my thoughts on who the dragons might be—including the fact that Gautier was one of them. And then I told him everything Gautier had said.

“And you believe him?” Rhoan asked.

“I believe that he’s playing his own game, whatever else he might be doing or might have become.” I shrugged. “Gautier’s a killer, but he’s not exactly the world’s greatest thinker. It makes sense that if there was someone who was stronger and darker in town, he’d align himself with them. Even if it is just a means to an end.”

“I don’t understand what Gautier would get out of such a deal, though.”

“Well, being the death head for a dark god would surely come with benefits. Like the ability to face sunlight. If he did kill Dunleavy and his girlfriend—and he certainly didn’t deny it—then he can now move around in the day. And that shouldn’t be possible for a vamp his age.”

“Is there magic that can give such protection?”

“Who knows? But if magic can raise demons and a dark god, why shouldn’t it be able to protect a vampire from the sun?”

He frowned as he slid open the van’s door. “So now all we have to figure out is what Gautier and his cohorts actually are—and then a way to stop them.”

“Well, Jin reads as human and Gautier still reads as a vampire, but maybe that’s because their shells still are. Maybe their beings have become something else entirely.”

He raised an eyebrow as he helped me into the back of the van. “Spirits of some kind?”

“If I can see souls rising from the dead, and Quinn can be hunted by demons, there’s really no saying that an ancient spirit can’t be recalled to claim a new body, is there?”

He slid the door shut then waved a hand at the thermos of coffee sitting on a small bench filled with weapons as he moved toward the seat in front of the bank of monitors. “You know, that’s an awfully scary thought.”

“Yeah, I can see you’re shaking in your boots.”

“On the inside, I am.” His smile belied any attempt of seriousness. “The Directorate as a whole has no experience in dealing with things non-substantial. I mean, how do you kill a spirit?”

“I don’t know.” I poured myself a cup of coffee and briefly breathed in the smell. Bliss in a cup, even if it looked like mud and probably tasted just as bad. “But I know someone who might.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

“Quinn.”

He glanced at the screens. “He’s parked in the right corner of the back garden if you want to talk to him.”

I grinned. “That’s a mite worse than having fairies in the bottom of a garden.”

“Trust me, I’m the only fairy around this neighborhood at the moment.”

“A good thing, with the moon on the rise.” I drained the coffee in several gulps, and winced a little at its bitter taste.

“True.” He pointed a finger at the screen. “Check out the security lines before you go. Don’t want you tripping over any alarms and tipping them off.”

“Hey, I’m not a complete novice at this.”

He merely grinned and pointed at the screen. So I checked it out and memorized all the hot spots. “That’s a whole lot of security happening.”

“Makes you wonder what, exactly, they’re protecting, doesn’t it?”

I looked at the other screens. There were cameras on every angle of the house, but none on the inside. “You able to hear their conversations yet?”

“Some. They’ve got some sort of shielding around the place. We only pick up things when they’re near the windows.”

“Frustrating.”

“Very. But Jack’s working on subverting their internal security system and fast-tracking it into ours.”

“Could be handy. We need to know what those bastards are discussing.” Because it would be nasty, of that I had no doubt. Whether or not it related to our investigation was the question we had to answer.

But all the indications we’d had so far certainly suggested it would.

I pushed away from the monitors. “I’m off to find Quinn. If you hear anything odd happening, give me a call.” I slid the door open, then paused and looked back at my brother. “And lock this door. Gautier may have run, but he could come back. I don’t trust him one iota.”

“I can take care of myself, Riley.”

“But that bastard is out to hurt me, and the best way to hurt me is to hurt you.”

“If he wanted to take me out, he could do so without coming anywhere near the van.”

Well, yeah, but Gautier was a man who liked to taste his victory. Liked to breathe it deep, and get his jollies off it. He could hardly do that if he just blew the van to pieces.

“Is it going to hurt you to lock the door?”

He rose. “If it stops you nagging, I’ll lock the door. Go find your vampire, woman, and ease some of that tension I can smell.”

“I have a feeling my vampire isn’t going to be too compliant in that regard.”

“Well, work for it, girl. It’s about time you had to.”

“Bitch.”

“Right back at ya, babe. And don’t switch the com-link off—unless you’re going to get frisky with Quinn. That I don’t need to hear.”

I grinned and headed out. Behind me, the van door closed and locks tumbled into place. A little bit of tension ran from my limbs. While I didn’t think Gautier would attack again, you just never knew. If there was one person in this world who could be trusted to do the unexpected, it was that slimy bastard.

I shifted shape in the shadows, then leapt into the nearest yard. I had no idea what sort of security any of the neighboring houses had, but at least if I tripped an alarm, all the occupants would see was a wolfy-looking dog.

I scrambled over the gate, scraping my belly on the tops of the pickets in the process, then made my way around to the back garden. Several more fences later, I was in the yard behind Kingsley’s house.

Quinn’s delicious scent filled the air. I sniffed it happily, drawing it deeply into my lungs, letting the aroma fill me the way I wished his body could fill me, then trotted across to him, carefully avoiding the two spots containing infrared sensors.

“Some people need to be tied up, obviously,” he said, amusement warring with frustration in his soft tones.

I shifted shape, then reached under my torn sweater and shook my bra free. Lacy items just didn’t handle the change as well as stretchy ones. My sweatpants were still serviceable, and while my sweater was torn, it could be tied at the front and still worn. But the bra—useless.

“Jin did enough of that the other night,” I said, tossing the bra over the neighboring fence. Let them have fun trying to figure out where it’d come from. “I’ve discovered it isn’t on my list of favorite things.”

“Ah,” he said, his gaze on mine and filled with a flame that was all sexual awareness, all desire. “Is that why you’re here?”

“Partly. Jin tried getting rough out of bed, and I decided he needed a lesson in manners. I left, and he lost his temper and came here.”

“So the whole gang is here?”

“Including Rhoan and Gautier.” I studied him as I lashed the ends of my sweater over my breasts. “Have you been back home yet?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Do I need to?”

“Well, I smashed a few things, but other than that, it’s in reasonable order.”

“Ah.” He paused. “There were some figurines amongst the casualties, I suppose?”

“One or two.”

“They were worth a fortune, you know.”

“Good.”

“That’s not very adult behavior.”

“And drugging me, taking away my clothes and car, and locking me up was?”

“I was only trying to—”

“Next time,” I interrupted, “try treating me like an adult. Let me make my own decisions and mistakes.”

“A mistake on this case could get you killed.”

“I’m well aware of that fact. But it’s my decision, and my decision alone. You have no rights, and no say, in my life, Quinn. You never will.”

“We’ll see.”

Frustration swirled through me. I wondered—and not for the first time—if continuing a relationship with Quinn was worth all the angst. Then I remembered the sex, and thought, Hell, yeah, it most certainly
was
. Still, I couldn’t help asking, “Why won’t you give this fantasy up? Why not settle for what you
can
have—you and me in an ongoing but not mutually exclusive arrangement?”

He raised the eyebrow again. “Are you willing to give up your white picket fences and two-point-five kids dream?”

“No—”

“Then do not tell me to give up what I desire.”

“The difference is I’m not trying to force my dreams on anyone. You are.”

He didn’t answer, his gaze going to the house instead. Part of me figured it was little more than a ruse to avoid answering a difficult accusation, but I lowered a shield and stretched out telepathically anyway. Not toward him, which would be a stupid thing to do considering his telepathic skills could sweep mine under the nearby daisies and stomp all over them, but toward the house. Only my telepathic “beam” somehow mingled with Quinn’s, and while I couldn’t actually hear his thoughts because of his shields, the resulting mix triggered some sort of weird amplification between us and those within the house.

Voices sprang into focus—not just one person, but everyone in the house—in some strange sort of “conference call.” I was hearing their thoughts as conversations, in real time. Weird, totally weird.

And yet another sign the drugs I’d been injected with were continuing to affect my body and my psi-skills in unexpected ways.

“We can’t afford to have this O’Conor person sniffing around much longer.” Jin’s mental tones were filled with simmering tension—tension that was both sexual and physical. “He’s getting too close.”

“We’re trying our best to get rid of him,” another voice said, the mental tone mild and yet filled with an underlying iciness. Only it was more an inhumanity than any mere coldness, and it had my soul shivering.

“Obviously, you’re not trying hard enough.” The words were practically spat. Jin was a very unhappy boy indeed. The thought cheered me no end.

“The demons are having trouble tracking his life force. It’s intermittent.” The voice was female, and presumably Maisie Foster. Something in the way she spoke was oddly familiar—though why I had no idea.

“He’s a fucking vampire—how could his life force be intermittent?”

“Because before he was a vampire he was something else. He almost destroyed me once. I do not wish to risk it again.”

The annoyance I’d felt earlier increased tenfold. Quinn had already told me that before he’d become a vampire, he’d been something more than human, so that in itself was no surprise. But he’d conveniently forgotten to add that
that
something had already met this evil.