Dangerous Games (35 page)

A shiver ran through my soul. I didn’t want to face that anger. Didn’t want to feel the consequences of it.

Knew I’d probably have to do both.

He walked toward me, his gait unhurried and yet sexy, that of a man who knew he was good-looking and who knew how to work it. I let my gaze slip downward, unable to help admiring the outer package even if the being within frightened the crap out of me.

He stopped when there were still several feet between us, his gaze traveling idly down my body, making my skin burn and my blood boil. He was close enough that the heat of him, the musky male scent of him, rolled over me, briefly erasing the other scents that filled the night. I breathed deep, letting the musk of him fill my lungs, letting it fuel the moon-spun desire to greater heights. I had a bad feeling I’d need to be at fever pitch to get through this night without giving in to the need to run for the hills.

“I was beginning to think you’d stood me up.” His voice was husky, deep, and in his dark gaze, lust now competed with the anger.

A shiver that was part desire, part trepidation, raced up my spine. “Couldn’t escape work early, then couldn’t get a cab.” I shrugged casually. “I figured you’d wait.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And why would you be so certain of that?”

I closed the distance between us, until my nipples—erect and hard inside the filmy confines of my little green dress—brushed the silk of his gray shirt. “Because you want me. Badly.”

He made a sound low down in his throat, then wrapped a hand around my neck and pulled me close. For the briefest of moments, the memory of who and what he was rose and something inside resisted. Ruthlessly, knowing I had no other choice—that another part of me
wanted
no other choice—I pushed thought and resistance away. As his lips met mine, I kissed him urgently, giving in to the press of his body against mine, letting sensation fuel desire to greater heights.

His free hand slipped down my back, cupping my butt, pressing me hard against him. After a few minutes, he groaned softly and broke off our kiss.

“You’re not,” he said, his breath short and sharp, his lips brushing mine as he spoke, “wearing any panties.”

“They tend to get in the way of a good time.” I ran my hands down his arms, then slid them around his waist. The only way we could get any closer would be for him to slide deep inside. And part of me—most of me—wanted that. I was a werewolf, first and foremost, and sex was high on the agenda tonight. “Are you sure you want to have dinner with your friends?”

It was a question that had to be asked—a question that any normal, fiercely aroused woman would ask. If I
didn’t,
he might think it odd. I just had to pray that he wouldn’t take me up on the offer. I needed to get inside that house, discover what I could, and get the hell out. Flying solo with Jin wouldn’t achieve any of those. Wouldn’t achieve an end to this case, and that was the one thing I wanted above everything else.

“I have to.” He briefly kissed my lips, my cheeks, my chin. “But I promise, it’ll be worthwhile. John has some delicious entertainment planned.”

And what sort of entertainment did a three-headed dragon and his dark lord deem delicious? Goose bumps flitted across my skin, but were quickly drowned under a new wave of need as Jin’s touch slipped under the hem of my dress to caress my skin, my butt.

“More delicious than being with me?”

My voice was a husky purr, and a quiver ran through the body pressed so close to mine. “Oh, I intend to be with you. Just not here. Not yet.”

“If you don’t hurry, I might have to find someone else to satisfy my needs.”

Humor flicked through his eyes. “That, too, might yet be accommodated.” He stepped back, pulling away from my loose hug, then threaded one hand through mine. “Let’s go.”

He tugged me toward the house, and ushered me through an open gate. Kingsley’s house was one of those modern ones, all concrete and sharp angles. My gaze ran up the monolithic front of the building, and I couldn’t help thinking that with its barely-there slashes of glass, it almost looked as if the building had eyes. Dark beady eyes that were staring down at me. Judging me. Eyes that knew entirely too much.

A cold chill ran across my skin. I bit my lip, silently admonishing my imagination. It was just a building. Nothing more, nothing less.

Except that it housed a dark god, intent on wreaking havoc on the world at large.

Not only was I about to step into his den, but I was going to try and bug it.

And I had a bad feeling that if I didn’t watch my step, it could be the last thing I ever did.

Chapter 11

J
in climbed the steps and pressed the buzzer beside the huge chrome-edged doors. I stopped next to him, pressing closer than I normally would have, needing the heat of his body to chase away my chills.

I couldn’t escape the feeling that I was about to do something very, very bad. Bad in a much-hurt-for-Riley sort of way. And while Jin was a psycho and God knew what else, I at least had some sense of him, of what he was capable of.

The same could not be said for the man whose footsteps echoed in the hall beyond the door.

I licked dry lips, and almost felt relieved when Jin draped an arm around my shoulder. Only it wasn’t a proprietary arm, wasn’t meant to be comforting. His fingers dug into my shoulder almost brutally, as if he sensed my sudden uncertainty and was determined to prevent any attempt to leave.

He wasn’t to know that I couldn’t. Wouldn’t. No matter what happened in here.

The measured steps drew closer. My heart seemed to leap up into my throat, and breathing suddenly became that much more difficult. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, and crossed my arms. But I resisted the temptation to rub them, and had to hope Jin would think the goose bumps traversing my arms were due to cold rather than fright.

The door finally opened. I’m not sure what exactly I expected, but the thin, spectacle-wearing, almost nerdy-looking man standing in front of me certainly wasn’t it. Relief hit so hard I almost laughed.

Almost.

Because when my gaze met the blue of his, I realized just how deceiving looks could be. This man might be ordinary when it came to looks, but stare into his gaze and the real man became evident.

He was power, sheer power—a power that was at once both raw and seductive. Magnetic. Though there was a good four or five feet between us, I felt the pull of it. It washed over my skin as sharp as electricity, and seemed a whole lot more dangerous.

Because it could destroy in more ways than mere death.

“I didn’t think you were coming,” he said, his words aimed at Jin, though his gaze continued to hold mine. “We were just about to start.”

There was a low note in his voice that was urbane, seductive, and it invaded my senses and heated my skin. A tremor that was all awareness, all anticipation, ran through me.

I was in trouble. Big, big trouble.

I might be a werewolf, and I might be willing to use sex to get the information I needed, but this man—this dark god—had centuries of lust and unholy desires behind him. When it came to seduction, I was standing at the feet of a master.

And the master had plans for me, just as Gautier had warned. The confirmation was evident in the dark and hungry gleam in his eyes.

“Riley got held up by work,” Jin explained. “I apologize.”

“As indeed you should.” His gaze still held mine, judging, enjoying. When he held out his hand, I placed mine in his almost without thought. He bent and placed a kiss on my palm, his lips lingering, tasting. “Welcome to my house, Riley.”

“Thank you.” It came out a squeak and I cleared my throat. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure will be mine, I assure you.” He released my hand, and yet I could still feel the lingering heat of his lips on my palm. Somehow, I resisted the temptation to wipe my hand against my dress. “Jin, escort our pretty lady inside and introduce her to our other guests.”

He stepped to one side. Jin placed a hand against my spine—low down, close to my butt, so that his fingertips caressed my cheeks as I walked—and ushered me inside. Desire prickled across my skin, and the low down burning became even more furious. The moon fever was still well under control—and yet, the awareness of it was there, meaning I had to have sex sooner rather than later.

Which shouldn’t be a problem, I thought, shivering.

My heels clicked on the polished marble tiles, the sound echoing through the long emptiness of the hall. Kingsley obviously wasn’t big on furnishings—the hall had a coat stand near the door, and an ornate cherrywood telephone table about halfway down, but that was about it. The pale gold walls were bare of paintings, mirrors, or any other kind of decoration. The lights were ornate, but none had bulbs, leaving the hallway a wasteland of shadows. Luckily, I didn’t need light to see, but I had to wonder if all the gloom and the emptiness was a ploy to play on the nerves of their guests. After all, these were men who were aroused by the darker emotions, and fear, however subtle, had to taste mighty sweet.

As we passed the telephone table, I pressed a finger against one of the minute listening devices attached lightly to the outside of my purse, then ran my hand casually across the cherrywood, carefully but quickly placing the bug under the unit’s ledge.

One down, five more to go.

A door loomed on our left. It was big and ornate and had to be as heavy as hell, given the effort Jin seemed to put into opening it.

As I stepped through I realized why.

Power slid over my skin, cold fingertips of energy that briefly resisted my efforts to walk into the semi-dark room. And I realized then that had to be why the Directorate was having so much trouble reading the inside of this house. Caelfind had obviously set up her own kind of deadeners, and I had no doubt they would be both psychic and electronic. She had seemed a thorough sort of sorceress, even if she turned out to be a little overconfident in the end.

With an odd sort of sucking sensation, the energy slid over my skin then released me. I scratched at my ear, wondering if Rhoan could still hear what was going on. Wondering if the tracker would work in this room, or whether I was, for all intents and purposes, on my own.

I didn’t want to be on my own. Not with these people.

If indeed they could be classed as people.

Jin touched my spine again and lightly guided me forward. The room was long, and shadows haunted the far corners. The air was a rampant mix of sharp spices, flowery perfume, fear, and desire. While I had no desire to draw the mix deep into my lungs, Jin had no such inhibitions. He sucked in a long breath, then exhaled it slowly.

“Ah, the sweet aroma of a good red. Would you like some?”

If he could smell red wine in
this,
he had a better nose than me. “A small glass would be nice.”

“I’ll introduce you to the others, then get you a drink.”

I nodded, my gaze already roaming across the faces of people gathered near the open fire at the far end of the room. I had no idea why they huddled there, because the room was almost unbearably hot. Maybe they just felt safer near the fire—it
was
the only source of light in the room, after all.

And then my gaze hit the face of a man I knew, and I stopped. I couldn’t help it.

Gautier.

Oh
God
—what the hell was I going to do now? I
should
have known,
should
have damn well realized he’d be here. If Jin and Marcus had been ordered to attend this little shindig, it was logical that Gautier—the death head of the dragon—would also have been.

Only none of us had thought about that. It was stupid. Totally stupid.

And it might very well cost me my life.

He smiled and minutely raised his glass, as if in greeting. My stomach stirred, and bile rose. I swallowed heavily.

“Are you all right?” Jin said, a touch of concern in his voice that I didn’t for a minute believe.

I somehow managed a nod. “Sorry, just letting my eyes adjust to the darkness.”

He touched my elbow. “I’ll guide you.”

I had no choice. I had to move. Had to brazen this out and test how far Gautier was going to let this play out. And I could only hope that the cavalry who waited beyond this house would come a-running when I needed them.

With tension curling through every part of my body, I forced my feet forward. We walked past a long wooden table that was set, ready for dinner—though the candles in the ornate candleholders were as yet unlit—and moved into the warm circle of light near the fire.

Sweat began trickling down my spine as we neared the fire, but I wasn’t sure whether it was the heat, or simply fear of the thin-faced man who watched me with a mocking, superior smile.

I forced my gaze from him, and studied the others. Most of the people here I already knew. The first was Marcus, the big man I’d seen terrorizing Jan at the club. At least
she
was looking a whole lot more lively than the last time I’d seen her, though she still moved with a slowness that spoke of healing wounds.