Full Moon Rising (13 page)

A
wareness drifted in and out, as if I were caught in a fragmented dream. Voices swam around me. Lights as bright as the sun burned into my eyes. Something cut my arm, and pain seared deep. Farther down, cold touched my stomach, sliding around like ice. The pain in my arm eased. Then, for a while, there was nothing but darkness.

When the fragments gradually returned, they formed a picture of rising pleasure. I drifted on silk, writhing and moaning, my skin on fire and every muscle screaming with pleasure. Hands stroked me. Heat filled me. Every inch of me quivered under the relentless assault, until I couldn't even breathe because the need for release was so strong.

I woke, to discover it was no dream. Talon was on me, in me, and I had the oddest sensation that I'd just been betrayed in some basic way. But the thought quickly fled as the convulsions began, curling through me like a tidal wave and pushing me into rapture. He came with me, but still he pounded into me, as if determined to ensure that every last drop of his seed spilled into me.

Eventually, he collapsed and rolled to one side. "You are amazing, little wolf."

I didn't feel amazing. I felt confused. Looking around revealed red walls instead of blue. Bedroom furniture rather than office. When had we moved there? I glanced at the clock on the bedside table, and saw it was close to eight-thirty. An hour and a half had passed and I couldn't remember any of it.

"We're in your bedroom?"

He turned on his side and rested his hand on my belly. "We've also been in the living room, the games room, and even tried the kitchen, because you said you were hungry."

There was an ache behind my eyes and a bitter taste in my mouth. I frowned and rubbed my forehead. "This is going to sound strange, but I can't remember any of it."

He grinned. "I think the champagne went straight to your head. You were pretty damn wild for a while there."

He was rubbing my stomach, his gesture possessive more than sexual, and for some reason, it disturbed me.

I grabbed his hand and threw it off me, and even that small movement had an ache rippling through my muscles. He obviously wasn't lying about the number of times we'd made love. But he was lying about something, I was sure of it.

I flipped the silk sheet aside. "I need a shower, then I have to go."

"En suite's to the right." He paused until I found the right door, then added, "Come back later tonight."

I turned on the taps, then, once the water was steamy, stepped into the shower. "As I told you before, I promised to be with Misha tonight."

"So come back afterward."

There was no way I was coming back to this house. It might contain the warmth of many colors, but it was cold. And I had the uneasy feeling something beyond sex had happened here, something I
should
remember.

"I promised Misha I'd stay with him."

"Then I pray something distracts him, because I want you to be mine, and only mine, this phase."

"Exclusive?" The thought made my body ache more than it already was. "I don't think so."

"Just one phase, not forever. I have a desire only you can fulfill."

I snorted softly as I washed off the soap. "Me and your seven other lovers."

He walked in as I turned off the taps. He tossed me a towel, then crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. "The others haven't hair your magnificent color. Nor do they have your strength."

"Which is why I imagine you have seven of them."

He grinned. "And they certainly don't have your lushness. I want that lushness. I want--" He stopped, and his sudden smile was distant.

I had the strangest feeling that at that moment, he wasn't really with me, that he was lost somewhere in dreams that just might have dire consequences for my health. Which was daft. Talon was often ruthless, but I didn't think he'd hurt me.

"What I want, I get, little wolf."

He wasn't getting anything more from me. Not this evening, anyway. I tossed the damp towel into the hamper, then said, "Are my clothes still in the office?"

"Yes."

"And that is?"

"Just down the hallway."

There was amusement in his expression, cold calculation in his eyes. I liked neither, and wasn't sure why. I'd seen both often enough in the last two years. Talon was an extremely successful businessman, and arrogance had always been a part of his makeup. Until very recently, it had never bothered me.

He followed me up the hall, a heat I could feel but not hear. I found my clothes, and the folder was with them, but before I could get dressed, he slipped behind me, his hands snaking around my waist to pull me back against him. He was hard again. He might be a wolf, but his hunger and his rate of recovery were definitely abnormal.

"Let me go, Talon."

"Tell me why you won't stay with me." His breath caressed my neck, and a second later, his teeth grazed my earlobe. This time, it wasn't pleasure that shuddered through me, but annoyance.

"Because I don't want to." I elbowed him hard enough to force a grunt. He backed away, and I got dressed. "And because occasionally it would be nice to have a bit of foreplay before sex."

He crossed brawny arms, his expression an odd mix of amused tolerance and steel. "I thought you liked it hard and fast."

"I do. Sometimes. But it would be just as nice to take some time."

"Then meet me for breakfast. We'll eat, flirt, fool around some, then do the hard, passionate sex."

I hesitated, but the truth was, the moon had me in its grip, and when that happened, it was simply easier to be with partners I knew than starting afresh with strangers. And as much as I enjoyed Misha, Talon was right. Misha couldn't do to me what Talon did to me. Couldn't satisfy me in the same way. It was an addiction all right, but his type of danger was far different from the one Jack was trying to force on me.

"I don't know."

"Then let's agree to just breakfast, and we'll see what happens from there."

I hesitated again, but only briefly. Addiction or not, I couldn't walk away from Talon. Not when the moon rode me like this. "Where?"

"The Kingfisher, in Collins Street."

The Kingfisher was one of Melbourne's boutique hotels, and from reports, spectacular. It also wasn't that tall, scraping in at nineteen floors. "Okay. But I also have to go to work and I'm not sure how long I'll be there. I can't give you a definite time." But not because of work, and not because of Rhoan. I needed time to recover from his demands.

"So call," he said, as he escorted me to the door.

But before I could escape, he pulled me close and kissed me. There was nothing gentle about it--it was a possession, an affirmation of right, and left me both shaken
and
stirred.

Yet relief was all I felt as I drove out the gates, and the sheer depth of it made me determined that I was never coming back to his house. And maybe, just maybe, it was a sign that after the current moon phase, Talon and I should part ways.

I glanced at the time, saw it was close to nine, and dug around in my bag to find the phone so I could call Misha and tell him I had to stop by work. There were several voice messages waiting.

I hit the replay button, and Misha's rich tones filled the air. "Hate to do this, Riley, but it looks like I won't be able to keep our date tonight. My sister's had a car accident, and I've been called home. I could be gone for over a week. Keep the car until I get back. I'll call you."

The message had been recorded just after six--which wouldn't have been that long after I'd blanked out after drinking Talon's fine champagne. I hoped Misha was okay. Hoped his sister was okay. Wished he'd left me a number so I could get in touch with him.

I hit delete, then moved on to the next message.

"Riley, it's Quinn." The warm, sexy lilt in his voice caressed my skin as sensually as a touch. What was it about this vampire that affected me so? I didn't even know him, and yet I'd wanted him, even before the fever had hit. Which was strange, because I'd never felt an attraction that strong to anyone who wasn't a wolf.

"I'm not sure why you're running from me, but I
am
a friend of Rhoan's, and I seriously believe you're both in danger. We need to talk."

He paused, and I could hear music in the background. It sounded like Presley's "A Little Less Conversation," which probably meant he'd been at the Rocker when he called.

"Meet me on the Casino steps at eleven." He hesitated again, then added, "There's more going on than what you think. Meet with me. Please."

The call intrigued me, that was for sure. But until I'd talked to Jack, there was no way in hell I was about to risk going anywhere near Quinn.

I drove to work. Jack looked up from the computer screen as I entered, and his gaze widened.

"Darlin', you look like shit."

"Thanks, boss. That's always nice to hear."

He rose, grabbed my arm, and pushed me into the chair. "No, I mean it." He caught my face in his large hands, and stared at me. "Your irises are the size of footballs. Have you taken something?"

"Champagne that didn't agree with me."

"This is more than that." He grabbed the phone and ordered a medical team down to our floor, pronto. "I'll get them to take a blood sample, because I think you've been drugged."

Only one person really had the chance to drug me, and really, why would he bother? He was getting what he wanted. Yet I remembered the memory loss, and, as much as I didn't want to, I wondered.

"It's just a bad reaction to champagne." I wasn't sure who I was trying to convince--myself or Jack. "It's happened before."

In fact, this was the second time in as many months, though on the other occasion it hadn't happened so quickly. But I'd lost several hours, at least. I was going to have to stop drinking Talon's fine champagne, because it definitely didn't agree with me.

The medical team came in, took what looked like enough blood to supply the guardians downstairs for several days, said they'd analyze it straightaway, and left.

Jack sat on the edge of the desk. "You asked me earlier if I'd ever done a check on Gautier. Was it only to see if he had a brother or did you want more information?"

I leaned back in the chair and studied him for a moment. "This is another of your lures, isn't it?"

He grinned, confirming my fears. "A taste here, a taste there, and you'll be hooked before you know it."

I shook my head. "It's not going to happen. I'm not a killer."

He just raised an eyebrow. "Then you don't want to know any more about Gautier?"

I sighed and rubbed my aching head. "Of course I do."

"You knew he joined the Directorate about eight years ago?"

I nodded. He'd apparently arrived a year before Jack and two years before me. "And?"

"It appears that up until nine and a half years ago, Gautier didn't even exist."

I stared at him. "Impossible. I've seen his file. He has birth certificates, passports, citizenship cards, the lot, and everything was checked."

"Forgeries, one and all." His computer screen beeped. He rose and walked over to it.

"How can you be sure?" I asked.

"Because we have a very sophisticated system running here now, and there's nowhere you can't go if you have the access."

And Jack obviously had the access. Interesting. As the head of the guardian division, he'd naturally have access to more files than most, but his words suggested there was no place he
couldn't
go. Which, in turn, meant he either knew how to get around the system monitoring or that he had carte blanche when it came to access from the director herself.

Which begged the question--why Jack and not the other directors? Because the others didn't have it--they always came to Jack when they wanted information about particular aspects in the guardian division.

I studied him a minute longer, then said, "But the same system would have checked his credentials when he first joined."

"Actually, no. His acceptance was handled higher up, then rubber-stamped down to us."

"How far up?"

He glanced at me. "Alan Brown."

Who was Director Hunter's second-in-command, and yet another vampire I didn't like. "You think he was pressured into accepting Gautier?"

Jack glanced at the screen again. "They've found no matches for recreational drugs," he said, then added, "Right now, I'm not sure what to think."

Somehow, I doubted that. I'm sure he had lots of thoughts about what was going on--he just had no intention of sharing them with me just yet. I tapped my fingers against his desk. "What would anyone have to gain by getting Gautier accepted here? He's an utter bastard, but he's also our best guardian, and has hardly set a foot wrong work-wise."

"Everyone knows Gautier wants my job, and eventually, the director's job. Maybe that's the plan." The computer screen beeped again. "No response to known prescription drugs."

Geez, the lab boys weren't kidding when they said they'd get on it straightaway. Either they'd cleared all the analysis machines just for this, or they'd had nothing else to do.