Dangerous Games (31 page)

Within a minute, the white Toyota slid around the corner and accelerated. I waited until they’d almost passed, then slipped my laser from its holster and shot out both the nearside tires. Then I was up and running.

The car skidded to an awkward stop, inches away from a blue Ford parked along the curb. Up ahead, Rhoan had stopped at an angle, letting the car block the road as he scrambled out.

Two men tumbled from the Toyota. The driver headed toward Rhoan, while the passenger came running in my direction. I stepped in his path, and a grin split his strong, hairy features. “You’re not going to try and stop me, are you, little girl?”

“You’re right,” I said, moving in so fast he barely had time to blink before my fist was buried into his gut. “I’m not going to
try
and stop you.”

The air left his lungs in a whoosh, and he collapsed to his knees with an odd sort of wheeze. I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and dragged him back toward the car. A quick look ahead showed that Rhoan had the driver under control.

I threw hairy guy into the side of the car. He hit headfirst and cursed. I ignored it, patted him down for weapons, then caught his right arm and pressed it up and back against his spine. His curse became a hiss of pain.

“Ease up, girly. I ain’t done nothin’ to you.”

“You’re following a guardian. While that may not be illegal, it’s certainly considered an insane practice by most. Especially us guardians.”

“You ain’t no guardian.”

I pushed just a little bit harder on his arm, then with my free hand, got out my badge and shoved it in his face. “Proof enough, buddy-boy?” He nodded, and I put the badge away. “Why were you following us?”

“I was paid to, wasn’t I?”

“By whom?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t talk to the contact, did I?”

“Did your friend the driver talk to him?”

“Yes.”

I reached sideways and opened the passenger door. “You will get inside the car and you will not move out of it or I will cut your flaming legs off. Understand?”

He nodded. I shoved him inside, slammed the door shut, and walked across to Rhoan. He had the driver spread-eagled against the rear of our car, and was leaning against him, one elbow planted in his back to hold him in place as he went through the driver’s wallet.

“You get the name of his employer?” I asked, stopping at an angle so I could keep an eye on hairy guy.

“Not yet. He’s demanding we arrest him, and that he gets his phone call before he says anything.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You did tell him we’re guardians, not cops, didn’t you?”

“Nope. Why bother with niceties when it comes to scum?” He closed the wallet and shoved it back into the man’s pocket. “You want to do the honors?”

“Honors?” the driver squawked. “What fucking honors? What the hell are you talking about?”

We both ignored him. “You know it’s a pain in the ass using telepathy on crap like this—why don’t you just beat it out of him?”

“Beat? You can’t beat me—it’s against the fucking—”

Rhoan dug his elbow in a little harder and the rest of the driver’s sentence was lost to his yelp.

“He’s human.”

“So fucking what? Just beat him up, get the name, and let’s get on with it.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll talk.”

Rhoan gave me a grin, then wrapped his arm around the driver’s neck and drew him upright. “So talk,” he said, voice soft. Deadly.

“It was a man called Gautier. Met him last night. Said he needed us to follow you and report back where you went.”

Gautier. Was there no getting rid of that prick? “Was that all he asked you to do?”

“Yes,” the driver wheezed.

Rhoan leaned close to the guy’s greasy head, and said, “You’re lying.”

“Trackers. We set them on your car, in case we lost you.”

Rhoan tightened his grip until the man’s breathing became a desperate gasp. “That all?”

“Yes. For God’s sake, yes.”

“Where did you have to report back?”

“He gave us a phone number.”

“Then give it to me.”

The man wheezed out some numbers. Rhoan spun the man around and pushed him toward the car. “You warn your employer about this little episode and I’ll make sure I pay you a little visit.”

The man caught his balance, then wheezed, “I won’t, I won’t.”

“Good,” Rhoan said, voice all mild. “Don’t let me see you following me again, or it won’t be just your tires my partner shoots out.”

The man ran for his car, threw it into reverse, and left—flat tires and all. I shook my head at my brother. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?”

“And you didn’t?”

I grinned. “All I need now is another coffee, and my morning will be complete.”

Some part of me was scared by that admission. Scared by the fact I
did
enjoy roughhousing that scumbag. Scared by the fact it would be
so
easy to let instinct take over completely, to become the one thing I never wanted to be—a hunter as skilled and deadly as my brother.

The possibility was there. It was definitely there.

I shivered and rubbed my arms. “You want to check your side of the car for traveling bugaboos? I’ll check this side.”

Rhoan nodded. Ten minutes later we had five tracking bugs sitting on the front of the car. “Gautier wasn’t taking any chances,” I said, picking up one and crushing it under my heel. “What I don’t get is why he’d even bother to employ idiots like that. Especially if he can now move around in daylight himself.”

“Maybe he still has some restrictions. Maybe whatever magic he’s getting from these people is only short-term. Which means he needs outside help to track our movements.” Rhoan crushed several more bugs under his heel.

“Gautier mentioned something about coming after me once he gets all that he’s been promised.” I dropped a bug and stood on it. “I’ve got a bad feeling we had better stop him before that happens.”

“We will. Neither Jack nor I are about to let anything happen to you, Riley.”

Yeah, but my brother was only a dhampire, and Jack was only a vampire. If Gautier’s warning was anything to go by, then he was becoming something more. Something deadly and not of this world.

The thought had chills skating across my skin. I ignored them and crushed the last of the bugs, scattering the metal remnants with a toe. “You want me to report the phone number to Jack?”

“Yeah. He’ll have it tapped and watched, though I doubt Gautier will be foolish enough to go there. He’ll probably have a remote dial-in arrangement.”

Most likely. One thing Gautier could never be accused of was dumbness in the line of duty. We got into the car, and I phoned Jack while Rhoan drove on to the hotel.

It was one Quinn and I had been to a few times in the past. I climbed out of the car and looked at the Langham’s luxurious foyer, and suddenly wondered how many other women he’d escorted through the marble and crystal opulence.

Not that I minded Quinn having other women. It was just the lies. The saying one thing and doing another. Dishonesty was something I just couldn’t forgive.

“Heading in now, Jack,” Rhoan said, as he walked around the car and flashed his credentials at the valet people. He glanced at me. “Jack said to stop being a pain in the ass and turn the com-link sound on again.”

“Oh. Yeah.” I lightly pressed the little button. “Sorry, Jack.”

“One of these days you’re going to be tied up and in serious trouble because you’ve got your com-link off and can’t call it in.”

“I said I was sorry.”

“Forget the sorry. Just quit doing it.”

“Okay, okay.” We entered the lower foyer and ran up the sumptuous staircase. Rhoan headed over to reception while I continued on to check out the dining area. The rich aroma of toast and sweet pastries made my nose twitch, but I tried to ignore the luscious food on display and scanned the area. No sign of Quinn or the dark mage. My gaze drifted to the food, and my stomach rumbled.

I somehow forced my feet away, and headed back to reception. “They’re in six-twelve,” Rhoan said. “Apparently he had food delivered half an hour ago.”

“Why? He doesn’t need to eat and she was unconscious.”

“Obviously, that’s no longer the case.”

Obviously. The question was, why did he force me away and then kidnap her? What did he need to do that he couldn’t let the Directorate in on?

“Quinn won’t take this lightly,” Jack said. “Whatever he’s up to, he doesn’t want us to know about, and that means he’ll probably fight capture.”

My stomach did an odd flip-flop. I wasn’t sure whether the cause was excitement or fear. “Even against the two of us?”

“Sentimentality doesn’t play a whole lot into the thinking of an old vampire,” Jack said, voice dry. “Not when he’s on the hunt.”

“Great.” I looked at Rhoan. “Let’s get this over with.”

We headed up. As we approached the room, I blinked, flicking my vision to infrared. Two bodies jumped into focus, one far darker than the other. Oddly enough, Quinn was the brighter one, and closer to the wall. Maisie sat near the window. I glanced at my brother.

He pointed to me, then to the right. I nodded, and pressed a hand flat against the door as he got the keycard out of his pocket. He looked at me again, and raised an eyebrow in query. I took a deep breath, then readied the laser and nodded again. He swiped the card through the slot, and I flung the door open, waiting until he was in before following him through.

There was an exclamation, a flash of red light, a blur of movement, then Rhoan was being tossed sideways like so much rubbish and that blur of heat was coming at me. I pressed the laser, aiming low, scouring the carpet and the end of Quinn’s toes, not wanting to permanently hurt him. There was a brief whiff of rich spice and seared flesh, and Quinn was on me. I ducked his blow, dropped to the ground, and swept with a leg. Incredibly, I hit him, knocking him off his feet. His butt hit the floor with a thump that would have bruised the tailbone of any other man. And though I’m sure he could have moved, he didn’t. Just sat there with a somewhat surprised look on his face.

At any other time, it might have been funny.

Right now, when it was just another instance of how much he underestimated me, it wasn’t.

I rose and aimed the laser at him. “Move, and next time it’ll be more than your toes.”

The surprise melted away, and anger sparked to life, burning in his dark eyes, heating the very air around me. “What are you doing here?”

“My job. Rhoan, you okay?”

“Yeah. Bit of a bruised jaw, but I ducked the worst of it.” Footsteps whispered across the carpet. “He has the mage confined.”

“Good.” I looked at Quinn. “You want to get up?”

He did. And the closeness of him, the rich, glorious smell of him, had my hormones doing giddy little cartwheels. I couldn’t ever imagine a time when I
didn’t
want this vampire, moon-heated lust or not. But as I kept trying to tell him, while sex might play a major part in my life, there was only so much shit I could take before the enticement of good sex began to wane and frustration and annoyance took hold.

Quinn and I had passed that point ages ago.

“How did you find me here?” His voice was low, rich with the lilt of Ireland. Which usually meant he was barely controlling some emotion or other. His accent was rarely noticeable otherwise.

“I asked Jack to track you after you knocked out the mage last night.”

He raised his eyebrows, surprise evident yet again. “You countermanded my order to go home?”

“I did. Fancy that.” I looked past him. “You want him cuffed?”

“There is no need—”

My finger tightened reflexively against the laser and a soft whine filled the room. “I
am
itching for an excuse to shoot, you know.”

“Cuff him if you want to,” Rhoan said.

“I want.”

“Revenge for last night?” Quinn said, amusement playing amid the anger.

“Just doing my job,” I said, and met his gaze.

I’m not entirely sure what he saw in my eyes, but the amusement and the anger fled abruptly. “Riley—”

“It’s too late, Quinn,” I said softly. Wearily. “I’m tired of listening to your excuses, tired of the one-way traffic. I
am
a werewolf, I
am
a guardian, and it seems you can’t accept either.”

“We had a deal—”

“Would that be the deal you keep breaking?” I caught the cuffs Rhoan tossed my way. “Tell me, how long have you been using our telepathic bond to curb my visits to the clubs?”

It was a guess, but a reasonable one. I certainly hadn’t been restricting my visits consciously—but my reaction in the Blue Moon last night had certainly proved that they had indeed been curbed. And the wolf within wouldn’t have done it willingly—hell,
she
wanted more visits, not less.

So it had to have been an unconscious decision. A decision caressed into compliance by a link so light I wasn’t even aware of it.