Embraced by Darkness (7 page)

“I can’t. It might be urgent.” I pushed upright.

“You’re still officially on vacation,” he said, annoyance edging in his rich tones. “Nothing is so urgent that someone else can’t take care of it.”

“But it might be Rhoan.” Though I doubted it. He obviously knew Kellen was picking me up from the airport, and he also knew about my fantasy involving the limo—a fantasy I hadn’t finished with yet. He wouldn’t disrupt us, no matter how urgent.

I reached into my handbag and pulled out my vid-phone. As I suspected, it wasn’t Rhoan. It was Jack. He obviously knew I was back—thanks to the damn tracker permanently implanted in my ear—but it was a little unfair for him to be ringing even before my holidays had finished. Of course, tonight was Halloween, and it was one of the busiest times of the year for the Directorate. Rather like hospitals during the full moon. If I’d wanted to enjoy the full length of my vacation, I should have stayed on the island where the sheer distance between us made it impossible for Jack to call me in.

But I never actually got the chance to answer the phone and find out what Jack wanted, because Kellen took one look at the number, then plucked the phone neatly from my hand and threw it out one of the open windows. It hit the road hard and disintegrated into dozens of metal bits that went scattering everywhere.

For a moment, shock held me speechless. “What the hell—”

“You’re still on holiday,” he cut in. “They have no right to be contacting you just yet.”

Annoyance rolled through me, but so, too, did desire. Nothing got my hormones scurrying faster than a man taking charge for all the right reasons. Still, I couldn’t help adding, “You just destroyed my phone.
And
it might have been important—”

“
This
is important, Riley. Us. Not work.” He raised a hand to my cheek, cupping it lightly. “And if it was a matter of true urgency, Rhoan can contact me. He knows where we’ll be. He has my number.”

I raised my eyebrows, curious despite myself. “So we’re not going back to your place?”

“Given your propensity in the past to run off on guardian business, no, we are not. I intend for our night of pleasure to be far away from the madding crowd. And any form of transport.”

I wriggled on his lap, feeling his growing readiness, loving the heat of him pressed against me. “I should be very angry with you. And Jack certainly
will
be.”

“Jack doesn’t scare me. And you, my love, will enjoy every moment I have planned.”

“Is that an order?” I murmured, my lips so deliciously close to his that I could taste every breath, every move of his lips.

“It most certainly is,” he said, and kissed me.

O
ur night of pleasure was spent in the Macedon hills, on a property belonging to one of Kellen’s friends.

There was just the two of us, a tent, and a huge picnic basket of food on five acres of manicured lawns and lush gardens. We laughed, we played, and we made love—sometimes in full view of the neighbors—and it was absolutely divine. Even the notoriously fickle Melbourne weather dealt us a nice night for a change.

Dawn had barely begun to creep her fiery fingers across the blackness of night when Kellen’s phone finally rang. He unwrapped himself from around me and fished out the phone from the tangle of our clothes.

“It’s Rhoan,” he said, and handed the vid-phone to me.

“So,” my brother said, expression wry. “Had a good time?”

“Absolutely wonderful,” I said, stretching like a contented cat languishing in the sun.

“I certainly hope so, because Jack isn’t happy.”

“Jack’s never happy.” I paused, barely resisting the urge to giggle as Kellen began tickling the underside of my foot. “What does he want me to do?”

“I’ll let him tell you himself.”

“Rhoan, wait—” He didn’t. A second later, Jack’s bald head appeared on the vid-screen. And as Rhoan had already noted, he did not look happy.

“I’m not officially on duty for another day,” I said, quickly, “so this had better be an emergency.”

Which was a pretty dumb thing to say. Just about all the Directorate cases could be classed as urgent, simply because they involved murdering psychos. We very rarely dealt with anything else.

“There is no such thing as vacation for guardians when emergencies happen,” he said, voice dark and full of the anger so evident in his expression. “Next time I damn well ring you, answer the phone. Or else.”

I didn’t ask what he meant by that. I had a feeling I wouldn’t want to know. “So what’s the problem?”

“Dead people.”

“Dead people are a regular occurrence in our line of work, Jack.” And if was
just
dead people, he wouldn’t be ringing me. Or be so mad.

Jack grimaced, his bald head gleaming under the brightness of the overhead lighting. He had to be upstairs in the main offices—the area the public could enter—not in the underground guardian area. There, the lighting was kept at “dusk” level for the sake of the newer vamps. Not that artificial lighting could hurt them. It was just that some of them tended to get jumpy in bright light. And jumpy guardians were never a good thing.

“This is a nasty one,” Jack said, “and I need your talents involved.”

Meaning he wanted me there to see if I could pick up anything along psychic lines. Like a soul hanging around with ready information to impart.

I scrubbed a hand across my eyes. While I hoped like hell Kade, Iktar, and the other non-vamps Jack had employed to fill out the daytime division got through training soon, the reality was, their presence in the unit wouldn’t have saved me from a situation like this. I was the only one with this particular talent.

And yet, as much as I hated the thought of leaving Kellen and heading off to some gruesome murder scene, I couldn’t deny the buzz of excitement that was humming through my system. I was going hunting, and the wolf within couldn’t wait.

As Jack had once said, all werewolves were addicted to the thrill of the chase. It was just society that had, to some extent, tamed them. Certainly it was something I’d denied for a long, long time.

“Send me the address, then,” I said. “But you’ll owe me big-time, Jack.”

Amusement flickered briefly through his green eyes. “I’ll give you an extra week of vacation next year.”

“Yeah, right.” We both knew the likelihood of me taking that was slim. “Just send the details to this number.”

“Will do.”

I hesitated, then asked, “So what did you ring me about earlier?”

“Rogue Vamp,” he said, voice all annoyed again. My bad for reminding him. “I took care of it myself.”

If Jack was taking care of business, then business
was
bad.

I hung up, but kept hold of the phone. “Seeing you smashed my phone, I’ll need to keep this.”

He touched a hand to my face, gently trailing his fingers down my cheek to my lips. I kissed his fingertips as they brushed my mouth, saw the flare of desire deep in his bright eyes.

“I figured you might have to leave early, so I arranged for a cab to come back at six.”

I glanced at my watch. It was almost that now. I rolled free from his touch and sat up. “I need to go for a quick swim to freshen up.”

He caught my hand, stopping me from moving. “I need you to think about something while you’re gone.”

I raised my eyebrows at the sudden seriousness in his tone. “Sure. What?”

“I want to go solo with you.”

I blinked. “What? Now? It’s too soon.” The reply was almost automatic. As much as I cared for Kellen, as much as I was beginning to think he could be the one, I wasn’t ready to go solo with him. Not after the events of the last few months. Not after Quinn. This time, I wasn’t rushing into anything, free will or not.

“It’s not too soon when it feels so right,” he said, and paused, studying me for a moment. “Or are you still playing games with me? Still waiting, just in case something better comes along?”

I sucked in a breath and stared at him. “You really think I’m not serious about us?”

“Honestly? Sometimes I just don’t know.”

He couldn’t have hurt me any more if he’d hit me. How could he honestly think I was playing games? I
wasn’t
Rhoan—I had no hunger to fight the restrictions of a relationship and play the field. I wanted a home and a family and one man to call my own—and Kellen
knew
that. “That’s a horrible thing to say.”

“Perhaps, but it’s also the truth. For most of our relationship, I’ve felt like a third wheel. There was always Quinn, or work, ahead of whatever you and I were doing. I’m not built to stand around and wait, Riley. I never will be.”

“But Quinn’s gone—”

“Work isn’t.”

“Dammit, you
know
I can’t abandon work. Not when there’s so few people in the day division.” Hell, we’d discussed my being a guardian—and just what it entailed—up on Monitor Island. We’d even talked about the whole fertility thing, and me being a half-breed. None of it had seemed to be a problem to him.

But maybe he’d had the time to dwell on it since then. If so, I guess I had to be glad my work seemed more of a problem for him than my mixed heritage and inability to carry a child.

He continued, “All I’m asking for is a decision on us going solo. It’s not like I’m asking for forever.”

No, but if I went solo, it would be because I was sure it would end up with forever. Right now, what I wanted most was time. Time to grow into us. Time to be really sure. I didn’t want to go solo only to have it all fall apart. “It’s too early—”

“It’s
not
.” He grasped my shoulders and shook me lightly. “You keep saying you want the white picket fence ideal, and yet you seem totally unwilling to step into the arena and take a chance.”

“After being used and abused by a past couple of mates, a certain amount of caution is hardly surprising,” I retorted.

“Caution, yes. Feet dragging? No. I won’t wait forever, Riley. Patience is
not
one of my virtues.”

“It’s not one of mine, either. Trust me on that.” I reached for my clothes. “I’m going for a swim, then I’ll head off to the assignment. And I’ll come back to your place as soon as I can.”

He studied me for a moment, his green eyes still bright with a mix of annoyance and determination. He wasn’t going to give up until he’d gotten what he wanted, and a small part of me couldn’t help being thrilled by that knowledge.

“And the commitment I’m asking for?”

I rose. “I want this to work as much as you do, Kellen, but I won’t be pushed into anything. Not again.”

“I’m not pushing. I’m just asking you to think about it.”

“I will.”

“Good.” He paused, then added softly, “Just remember, I’m not Liander.”

“Well, thank heavens for that. I mean, he’s gay.”

His grin seemed reluctant, but he rose and drew me into a kiss that was very much a signal of intent. A statement of caring and demand.

In some ways it was scary. In others, exhilarating. I mightn’t be sure that I wanted to take that extra step so soon into our relationship, but I
was
sure of one thing. I didn’t want it to end.

Which meant I might
have
to take that step, go exclusive, before I was really sure about the true breadth of my feelings for him.

But I didn’t say that. Didn’t say anything. Just enjoyed his kiss and his closeness while I could.

I had a quick dip in the old dam we’d camped beside, then dressed and hurried over to the cab. Kellen gave me his jacket and another toe-curling kiss, then sent me on my way.

Once we were on the highway and headed for the address Jack had sent me, I retrieved Kellen’s phone from my pocket and went through the files.

The information was sketchy, at best.

Apparently, a neighbor had heard strange sounds in a nearby vacant house and, on investigation, had spotted a shadowy figure inside. He’d reported it to police, who’d arrived, found the victim, and called the Directorate.

There were no details of the murder or the victim, which probably meant the cops had sealed the scene, awaiting our arrival. It also meant the Directorate’s forensic team hadn’t arrived yet, because otherwise there’d be at least some description of events.

I looked back down at the files. In the past, the strength of my connection with the dead seemed to depend on the freshness of the death. The newer the death, the stronger the connection—and the more likely I’d be able to successfully interpret or understand what they were trying to say. If indeed they had something to say. But part of me was hoping that the soul
wasn’t
hanging about. Talking to dead people wasn’t on my list of favorite things to do.

We were on the Calder Freeway, heading toward Citylink and Melbourne, when I noticed the driver looking into the rearview mirror, his expression a little worried.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, even as I looked around.

“That truck is getting a little too close for comfort.”

Which had to be the understatement of the year. All I could see was this huge silver grille—and it was getting huger by the moment.