Deadly Desire (5 page)

“She's a witch and a shifter.”

His low, husky tones sent desire skittering down my spine. I loved being a werewolf, but it could sometimes be a real pain in the ass. I mean, I had a good man waiting for me. I didn't need this attraction, and I certainly
didn't
need another man in my life.

Or in my bed, for that matter. Been there, done that, and I'd ended up seriously burned.

“So has she got a name? An address?”

“She has,” he said. “But I don't know them yet.”

Then he grabbed me, crushing me close, his mouth finding mine almost savagely.

And oh, his lips tasted
so
good. I might not
want
to want him, but I couldn't find the strength to push him away, either. Not when the hunger to taste him was
this
bad.

I wrapped my arms around his neck as the kiss became an urgent, hungry thing, fueled by the need that burned through us both. We were so close I could feel
the ripple of muscles across his chest as he breathed and the gun strapped under his arm. So close that every rapid intake of breath filled my lungs with the scent of him and it was all I could do to not tear off his clothes and take him there and then.

I wanted to.

But somewhere deep inside, a sliver of control remained. And no matter how bad the rest of me ached, that sliver would not let go. Not here, not on a walkway barely a foot wide. Not when I still had a killer to catch.

Kye, stop.

The demand sounded weak, even to me. The mind might have good intentions, but the body had other ideas.

His hand slid up my spine, the ring on his finger snagging against my top. There was a brief, sharp pain as something pierced my skin.

Sorry, Riley.

Kye, I mean it. Stop.

But the hunger of his kiss didn't abate and annoyance swirled. I broke away from his lips, but didn't move back, my breathing harsh as I stared into the flame of his eyes. “How did you track the woman here?”

“Followed her scent.”

His breath teased my lips as he spoke and sent my hormones on another merry dance. The swirl of anger grew stronger. Not just at him, but at myself. I might be a werewolf and the moon heat might be rising, but damn it, surely I had better control than this!

“She's a bird,” I snapped. “Her scent would be dispersed by the air long before it got to a wolf's nose.”

“I didn't mean her physical scent. I meant her magical one.”

“What?” Maybe my mind was still a little fuzzy from covering us both in shadows, but I had no idea what he meant.

He shrugged. “I haven't the time to explain now.”

And no intention of explaining later, either. “Walk away from the case, Kye. This is Directorate business.”

He hesitated, but his gaze was calculated, watchful. “And this job is for my friend. Besides, this is my living. This is how I make my money and maintain my reputation. I won't let you take this kill away from me.”

“Well, that's just too bad, isn't—”

The words stopped as a cold sensation rolled over me, making my knees want to buckle and my stomach stir. I swallowed against a suddenly dry throat and met his gaze. Remembered the brief flare of pain in my back. I thrust out a hand, twisting my fingers into his shirt and pulling him close.

“What have you done, you bastard?”

“What I had to do.” His voice was so annoyingly calm and cool. If not for the heat still burning in his eyes, it would be hard to imagine we'd shared a mind-blowing kiss only moments before. “As I said, I can't let you stop me—and you were certainly planning to.”

His arms went around me just as my knees gave way. I wanted to hit him, wanted to break away from his grip, but my muscles refused to obey me and my strength seemed to have slipped away.

“The effects of the drug won't last long,” he added. “Maybe an hour or so. You'll be safe up here.”

“Unless the witch comes back.” The words were indistinct, slurred.

“She has no reason to. Her pentagram and her creature have been destroyed. She'll start up again somewhere else.”

“You are in so much trouble, buddy boy,” I muttered.

He smiled and, despite the anger, I couldn't help noticing the way little laughter lines teased the corners of his eyes. A full smile would be knee-buckling.

“It won't be the first time,” he said, as he lowered me onto the catwalk.

I tried to retain my grip on him, but I might as well have been a baby grabbing at an adult.

“See you later, Riley,” he said. His lips brushed my forehead, and then he was gone, his footsteps retreating along the metal walkway.

“Bastard,” I said, as the darkness closed in around me.

iley?”

The voice was sharp and concerned. It was also very loud, spearing through the shadows of unconsciousness as fiercely as a foghorn.

I forced my eyes open, but for several seconds, nothing registered beyond the blackness and the cold metal that pressed into my side.

Then memory came back and I sat up abruptly.
Only to have my head just about explode in protest at the sudden movement.

“Ow,” I muttered, pressing fingers to my temples and massaging lightly. It didn't do a lot to help the fierce ache behind my eyes.

“Damn it, Riley, answer me!”

Jack's voice reverberated through my head, shooting pain through my brain and making my eyes water.

I flicked my ear, switching the com-link fully on, then said, “I'm here, Jack. No need to shout.”

“No need to shout? We've damn well been trying to contact you for the last fifteen minutes.”

I rubbed a hand across gritty eyes, then glanced at my watch. It was nearly three. I'd been out for a good half hour. “Why have you been trying to contact me?”

“Because according to the tracker you've been stationary for forty minutes, and given that you're
never
still for that long, Sal figured something was wrong.”

“Sal was right.” She'd taken over as Jack's chief assistant when I'd reluctantly become a guardian two years ago. She was damn good at her job and had saved the lives of a couple of guardians through her quick response to signs of trouble. It was good to know she had my back as well, despite our somewhat antagonistic relationship.

“What happened?” Jack asked.

“Long story, but I was basically knocked out.”

“Who by? And what happened to the zombie?”

I pushed up onto my feet. The warehouse walls seemed to spin around me and I had to grab at the railing to keep upright. The sensation abated quickly
enough, but it left a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“The zombie is defunct. Eaten by hellhounds. There was a witch controlling it, but she took the form of a crow and flew off.”

“So that's why there's never any evidence of a second party at the murder scenes. We were looking on the ground rather than up higher.”

“Yeah. I didn't get much of a look at her, but I'd recognize her voice if I heard it again.”

He grunted. It wasn't a happy sounding grunt, either. “So what happened?”

“Kye Murphy.”

“Who's he?”

“A gun for hire. Our paths crossed a year ago, when he was playing bodyguard to the son of our pack's alpha.”

“The one you and Rhoan beat up?”

Surprise ran through me, and it took me a moment to reluctantly admit, “Maybe.”

He laughed. “Don't sound so shocked. There isn't much that goes on in this place that I don't know about.”

Something I'd better remember in the future if I was planning any other little side excursions on Directorate time. I walked left along the railing until I found the tiny excuse for a ladder, then slowly—carefully—began to climb down. When my feet finally hit the concrete, some of the tension that had been riding me eased. I might be able to fly, but my fear of heights had never entirely vanished. I doubted it ever would.

“Look, Cole and his team are just about there—”

“You sent Cole after me?” I couldn't help the surprise in my voice. “Why send a cleanup team rather than a guardian?”

“They were the closest to your position, and Cole and his men can fight, trust me on that.” His voice was dry. “He might as well check the zombie remains while he's there. At least we can confirm whether our killer was raised or not.”

“There's not much more than blood here, boss. I'm afraid the hellhounds ate nearly everything else.”

“What, even the bones and skull?”

“Yep.” I walked toward the swing doors. “Was my being stationary the only reason you were trying to contact me?”

Even as I asked the question, I had my fingers crossed for the correct answer. After my near miss with Kye, I really needed to get home to my vampire.

“No. There's a disturbance at a house I want you to investigate, but it can wait until the morning. I'll send you the address.”

Relief swam through me. Morning might almost be here, but at least I could catch a few hours alone with Quinn before I had to leave again. That'd be enough to take the edge off the hunger. “What's so special about this disturbance that we're investigating it?”

“He's an old friend of mine.”

“How old a friend?”

“We were turned together.”

Which made him a very old friend indeed, considering Jack had been turned over 860 years ago. I blew out
a breath, then said, “I can drive over there tonight, if you'd prefer.”

It was the last thing I actually
wanted
to do, but I owed Jack more than a few favors. Besides, friends
that
old were surely rare, even in the long-lived world of vampires.

Jack hesitated. “No, it should be all right. Armel thinks it may be a ghost of some kind. Things have been moved around or gone missing. Nothing major—just small things. He's just curious as to what is going on.”

Hence the reason Jack had called me. He might be good at many things, but the one thing he couldn't do was see ghosts and souls.

Unfortunately, I could.

“Why did he call you rather than a clairvoyant or someone like that?”

“Because we're old friends, and I owe him a few favors.”

Calling in the Directorate still seemed like overkill. But maybe that was why he was a long-lived vampire. “No one's broken in, I gather?”

“He believes not. He's got good security and he doesn't sleep all that much. He'd hear anyone entering his house.”

Outside, a car pulled up, but the scents of wolf and bird were suddenly strong on the still air. I recognized both.

“Cole and his team have just arrived.”

“Good. Once the situation there is sorted, go home and get some rest. I told Armel you'd be there at nine.”

“Gee, thanks for letting me sleep in, boss.”

“He wanted you there at six,” Jack said dryly, “so be thankful for small mercies.”

“Why so damn early?”

“He doesn't believe in wasting good daylight.”

“He's a vampire. There's no such thing as good daylight, is there?”

“There is when you're old enough to enjoy it.”

“Which neither you nor he is, so why the hurry?”

“Just because we can't play in it doesn't mean we can't enjoy it.” Jack's voice was amused. “And be careful when you're there. Armel will flirt with anything that breathes, but he's partial to redheads.”

“I've already got two old vampires in my life. I don't need another.”

He laughed and signed off. I touched my ear to turn off the voice part of the com-unit, then pushed open one of the doors and said, “Cole, I'm down this way.”

A second later, he appeared.

“So much for me hoping to save your pretty ass,” he said dryly. His gray overalls were still blood-splattered from the previous crime scene and his silvery hair was darkened with sweat. “You just love spoiling my fun, don't you?”

I grinned. “Totally. Especially if it means me not lying somewhere half dead.”

I looked beyond him as the similarly garbed Dobbs came into view. Like Cole, he was armed, his laser humming softly in the silence. Unlike Cole, he wasn't relaxing; his gaze constantly moved through the shadows. I was betting Dobbs could fight every bit as well as
Cole. It was evident in the quiet way he moved. He reminded me of a predator about to strike.

I met Cole's gaze, noticing the sweat staining the collar of his overalls and the quick puff of his breath on the night air. “What, did you run here rather than taking the car or something?”

“Basically, yes.” He stopped and swiped a hand at the sweat running down his cheek. “Well, I ran and Dobbs flew. Dusty collected the gear and car first.”

Jack
must
have been worried to impart that sort of urgency. “Sorry to put you through that hassle for no good reason.”

“I think you owe us a beer.” He studied me for a minute, nostrils flaring, then said, “I smell another wolf.”

He didn't actually say he could smell him on me, but that's what he meant. I smiled. “You know what us werewolves are like—we can find a man in the oddest places.”

“Then he's not here now?”

“No.” I stepped back, giving him room to enter. “But we have zombie remains—well, zombie blood and little else, really—sitting in a destroyed pentagram.”

“The wolf did the pentagram?”

“No, he was hunting the woman who did. She had a couple of hellhound helpers, which proved a bit of a problem for both me and the wolf.”