Tempting Evil (Riley Jenson Guardian #3) - Page 13/16

Vomiting is never a pleasant experience, but it's even less so when you don't know if the person sidestepping the projectile is friend or foe.

I mean, how can you defend yourself when you're chucking your heart out? It's impossible. Truly impossible.

The only way I knew I was safe was the mere fact that nothing happened in the time I had my head buried in the bushes. It was only when I leaned against the wall to steady myself while I sucked in great gulps of air that I caught the odd scent of earth and air. Iktar. Neither friend nor foe, but somewhere in between.

But he wasn't the only one here. Awareness shimmered across my skin, a warmth that went deeper than mere knowledge of presence, touching me in a way so few did.

Quinn watched and I felt a whole lot safer.

"Here." I dug into the bag and retrieved the notebook, then held out the bag to Iktar. "Your controls and some keys. Knock yourself out."

"Thank you." He accepted the parcel warily, but the glow in his eyes was that of a man who finally saw the ending of a nightmare. "I am in your debt, more than you could ever know."

"No, buddy-boy, you're in the Directorate's debt, and you may live to regret that." Because I had a feeling Jack would like at least one of Iktar's mob on his "new" team - and the old one.

He shrugged. "It cannot be any worse than being held prisoner by a madman, or being killed off one by one in his insane missions."

Except that the Directorate and insane missions often went hand in hand. Hell, why else would Gautier love the job so much?

"The maintenance crews are fixing the circuit breakers as we speak," he continued softly. "You have ten minutes, if that."

"Then I'd better get my butt into gear." I pushed away from the wall and wiped a hand across my mouth. There was nothing I could do about the blinding ache becoming well and truly settled behind my eyes, but the bitter taste in my mouth was at least fixable. All I had to do was find a tap.

"Hope you get your people out safely, Iktar. And be careful with those controls."

His smile held little amusement. "We have someone who can disconnect these. We will be gone before dawn." He held out a hand. "Thank you again."

I clasped his hand and shook it. His fingers were cool against mine, his skin smooth and leathery, like a snake's. Not unpleasant, but not something I wanted to touch on a regular basis.

As he walked away, I glanced at the trees again then went in search of a garden tap. I placed my stolen thumb and notebook out of the water's way, then rinsed out my mouth and washed the blood from my skin.

Though I heard no sound, the caress of warmth told me Quinn was close. He stepped free of shadows and said, "You look a mess."

"You always say the nicest things."

My voice was dry and amusement touched his dark gaze. "Need some help?"

"Yes. I have to rescue a baby and destroy a lab." I scooped up a final mouthful and drank it, then turned off the tap and picked up my stolen goodies. "The fire exits apparently come out in the trees behind the gym."

"Lab? Not the main ones, I suppose?"

"No. How'd your tunnel hunting go?"

"Came to a dead end. Or, more precisely, a metal door." He hesitated. "I waited the day out there, but no one ventured down from either direction."

"Bugger."

His shrug was all elegance. "The bad guys do not always play the game the way we might wish."

"Well, gee, thanks for that news bulletin."

He smiled, and my hormones did their usual little jig. Annoying, but then, a werewolf's hormones didn't usually give a fig about appropriateness or timing. "There were a lot of guards entering the forest when I came out, though."

"And you didn't stay to investigate? Why?"

He glanced at me. "I felt your pain."

"Ah. Thank you."

Which seemed totally inadequate, but what else could I say? Thanks for caring, but you really should have seen what those guards were up to? I wasn't that much of a bitch. Well, technically I was, but not in the way humans used the word.

"Can I ask why you're gripping a bloody thumb and notebook?"

"Most secure areas around here are thumb and number coded. A thumb is easier to drag around than a guard."

"Hence the vomiting."

"Hence the vomiting," I agreed. And holding it, feeling the coolness beginning to creep into the severed flesh, even through the plastic, had my stomach spasming all over again.

"Would you like me to hold them?"

I didn't even have to think about it, just handed them over. "Let's go, before they get the power back on."

We shadowed and ran around the house to the gym. Every footstep sent lances of fire stabbing deeper into my brain, and I wasn't entirely sure if the moisture running down my cheeks was sweat or tears.

There were guards everywhere, even here, outside the gym. Starr obviously didn't think the power outage was chance, and was guarding assets and exits - even the exits most knew nothing about. We stopped in the midst of the trees, out of the direct line of sight of the guards. We might be shadowed, but there was no point risking that these guards weren't more of Starr's enhanced humans, complete with vampire DNA that endowed them with a vampire's infrared. Quinn touched my shoulder to catch my attention, then pointed to the two guards on the left, his arm glowing like fire under the infrared. I nodded, and carefully made my way toward my targets, keeping downwind and as silent as possible.

I was nearly on them when a twig snapped under my heel. Both men spun, their guns rising fast. I froze, my breath catching in my throat. They didn't fire, simply scanned the darkness, their gaze slipping straight past. They couldn't see me and didn't have infrared.

Advantage me.

I stepped close - so close that any wolf or shifter would have smelled my scent - and lashed out with a bare heel, hitting the first man hard in the crotch. He went down with a wheeze of pain. The second man swung around, his expression a mix of surprise and wariness. I dropped low, sweeping again with my leg, knocking the second man off his feet. I grabbed the gun off the first man, flipped it around, and whacked the butt across the second guard's face. His head snapped back, and he was out to it before his head hit the ground. The first man quickly followed his partner into oblivion with just a little help of gun butt. I took the clips out of the guns and threw them both deep into the trees, but the guns I left after patting both men down to ensure they didn't have any more clips on them.

After rubbing my temples in a vague attempt to ease the ache, I made my way back to the fire exits. Quinn soon joined me. The bastard wasn't even breathing heavily. But then, I'd had a few more fights than him over the last few hours, and had lost my breakfast as well. Was it any wonder I felt weak and shaky?

Though I had a sneaking suspicion the cause for the shakes was more the lurking certainty that something was wrong. That the shit was about to hit, and everything we'd achieved so far was about to go down the toilet.

I took a deep breath to calm down my nerves. I had a job to do, and I'd better start concentrating on that rather than worrying over future problems and uncertainties.

It seemed to take forever to find the hidden exit for sublevels, though I suppose in reality it was only a minute or two. It had been concealed in the remains of a tree that looked to have burned in the bushfires that had raged across these mountains years ago, though the blackened bark was in fact well-concealed concrete rather than once-living wood. Finding the actual entrance was tricky. The tree looked whole, and it was only on close inspection that the outline of a doorway could be seen. The catch was little more than a dent on one edge. On opening that, we discovered another door, this one made of steel and accompanied by the same sort of key-coders that guard the various secure areas in and around the house.

"I'm told the backup generators power these security doors, enabling them all to function normally." And if they didn't, we'd truly be up that well-known creek.

"That makes sense."

He gave me the notebook, and I punched in the code from the book while he carefully pressed the stolen thumb against the print scanner.

The red light above the keypad flicked to green. Quinn grasped the door handle and pulled it open. The air that rushed out was old and stale smelling, suggesting this tunnel hadn't been used in a long, long time. As did the thick dust that sat on the metal stairs leading down into a red-hued darkness.

Though how dust got into a sealed area, I had no idea.

"Emergency lighting is on inside," he commented.

I bent to study the tunnel. The unease was growing, and though I wasn't entirely sure why, part of me wished it would just go away. I didn't need another reason to be afraid right now.

"Do you think they have movement sensors in there?"

"Probably, though I doubt they would be one of the emergency systems running right now. Were the cameras running in security?"

"No."

"I would think the cameras and sensors are supported by the same source, so we are probably safe for the moment."

Given Starr didn't think like normal people, that statement wasn't as logical as it sounded. "We've got to get moving - we've probably only got eight minutes or so before the power is up and running again."

"I'll go first."

I nodded. He climbed down, his steps making little noise but stirring the dust into a sluggish cloud. When he reached the concrete floor, he motioned me to follow then disappeared into the red-shrouded darkness.

"Sensors in the walls, and cameras in the ceiling." He pointed them out as I joined him.

"So if we aren't out by the time the power is on, they will be all over us like a rash."

"Yes. Let's move."

We ran down the tunnel, our footsteps an echo that rode the air easily. If there were guards ahead, they'd hear us coming.

"I cannot hear the beat of another heart beyond yours," Quinn said.

"There are things in this world that don't have heartbeats."

"Like the chameleons. Like the Fravardin."

"Yeah. But there's no Fravardin here, other than the one helping Dia." Which was strange, really. If Misha had the Fravardin at his beck and call, why wouldn't Starr have gotten his warped little hands on them? Misha had been Starr's creature to order around - up to a point, anyway.

Another metal door loomed into view. We slowed. This one looked bigger, stronger.

"Containment door," Quinn said, running his hand over the metal. "We have them in my labs. They have a high exposure rating and durability."

I got the notebook out and checked the code. "So why have one guarding a fire exit?"

He shrugged. "Why not? If the contamination is truly bad, do you really want those inside getting out?"

"Isn't the whole point of a fire exit being able to escape when something bad happens?"

He pressed the thumb against the door. "By law we have to have them. It doesn't mean they should always be used."

"Glad I don't work in your labs."

He glanced at me, dark eyes suddenly amused. "I'm glad, too. I have a no fraternizing with my employees rule."

"We're not exactly fraternizing now." Not in a physical, one-on-one sense, anyway. Well, except for our brief session in my kitchen, and later in the barn - but that hardly counted.

"No." He grasped the lever and hauled the huge door open. Air rushed out, brushing my skin with its musty, ancient scent. "But I intend to remedy that."

I arched an eyebrow at the certainty - even arrogance - in his voice and reached for the psi-link between us. Given we had no idea how close the labs were or how far our voices might carry, it was better not to talk aloud. Especially when we had another option. And just how do you intend to remedy the situation when you're never around and never in Melbourne?

He didn't answer - no surprise there - just edged around the corner. Another corridor and door ahead.

No guards? Which was a dumb question, really, when he was already walking forward.

Not yet. They might be on the other side of the door, though.

You know, something about the lack of security in this place just doesn't sit right. Surely the first places Starr would send troops to would be his research areas and labs...

I broke off suddenly.

What if he had sent his troops to his labs and research areas? What if he was protecting them?

Maybe the guards Quinn had spotted in the forest were heading in there for that very reason - to guard the exit or entrance to the one place Starr had to protect above everything else.

A large leap? Maybe. Except that Iktar had said that when he and his people were transferred, they didn't seem to be out of it for very long. I'd taken that he meant only a few hours, but maybe he really did mean minutes.

Maybe the reason it had seemed that way was because the labs that made the creatures just like him was here, right under our very feet.

Of course, that would also mean there was an entrance somewhere in these hills large enough to take trucks, and surely the Directorate, with all its scanning equipment and satellites, would have spotted it by now.

Maybe not. Quinn had stopped at the next door.

Why not? An entrance big enough to take trucks needs roads heavy enough to take them. Not an easy thing to conceal in a forest.

It is if it is disguised as something else. Are there any quarries or logging camps nearby, perhaps?

I have no idea.

But Jack will.

Yeah.

I keyed the code into the door then stepped back to give him access to the thumb coder. The labs being underground would certainly explain why Jack and the Directorate have been unable to discover any suspect buildings with their satellites. But how could Starr do that much excavating without anyone taking note?

The only thing new about these tunnels are the doors. The concrete surrounding us is old. Decades old.

The cartel has been playing around in the DNA pool for forty years.

This place is older than that. Much older.

The light above the sensors clicked from red to green. Quinn grasped the door handle and hauled it open.

And that's about the time the shit hit the fan.

Air stirred, coming at us with the velocity of a train. For a heartbeat I thought it was merely trapped air rushing out, but then I caught the smell - fetid, unripe flesh.

I reached out telepathically, trying to catch some sense of what was coming at us, but it was a total dead zone. Not dead as in mind-blind, but dead as in nothing there, just empty space. The creature wasn't there in body form, either. Its body heat barely existed, which meant that under infrared the creature was little more than a muted flame of dark, dark red that faded to black toward the extremities.

But dead, dying, or whatever, it was coming at us hard. And it was pretty much a given that it wasn't rushing to give us a great big hug.

Instinct had me throwing myself into Quinn, knocking us both out of the way. Why, I have no idea - he had infrared and would have seen the creatures the same as me. He grunted as his shoulder hit the wall, then his arms went around me as he steadied us both. A dark shape leapt through the doorway, its guttural howl seeming to echo down the tunnel as it skidded to a halt several feet away.

Or maybe it wasn't an echo we heard, because suddenly there was another one skidding to a stop beside the first one, this one slightly smaller.

Fuck, Quinn said. Chameleons.

Chameleons were a rare breed of nonhumans who could take on any background, and literally become part of that background. Charmingly, they were also flesh eaters. We'd come across a pack of them once before, and in the end, had only survived because Rhoan, Jack, and Kade had raced to the rescue.

There'd be no such rescue this time.

I pushed away from Quinn, ducked the night dark paw the second creature flung my way, and backpedalled through the door. The room beyond at least felt bigger than the tunnel and would provide more fighting room. Which I needed, even if Quinn didn't.

The ones we met at the breeding center didn't smell this bad. I ducked another blow, then dived in close for a quick one-two punch to the creature's gut. It felt like I was hitting iron. I danced out of the way of the creature's swipe and watched it warily. This one didn't seem as fast as the first but that didn't mean it was slow. Just that I had more of a chance against it.

No, these ones rot. Quinn was moving so fast he appeared little more than a blurring rush of flame. It means they are very old.

As old as these tunnels?

Older.

I ducked another blow but missed the follow-up. It hit with the force of a hammer, flinging me off my feet and deep into the darkness of the room.

I grunted as my back hit the floor beyond, and couldn't stop myself sliding along the slick tiles. Not until I hit something hard and metallic, anyway. Pain slithered up my spine, but the rush of air suggested I had more than a bruise to worry about. I scrambled upright and quickly felt behind me. A table. A metal table. No chance of breaking off a leg and using it as a stake, unfortunately. Not that I knew if a stake killed these things, but it would have been worth the try. That table also meant we'd reached the lab areas - but obviously a disused section, because I couldn't imagine anyone willingly working in the presence of cannibals.

The creature lunged at me again. I spun and lashed out with a heel, my kick landing high and hard. It staggered back several steps, but managed to swipe one big paw across my shin. Needle sharp nails tore into flesh and blood welled, the sweet scent overriding the foulness of the creatures. Even as I cursed, the darkness stirred.

There were more of them hiding here.

Great. Just fucking great.

I caught my balance and backed away again. Away from the creature, away from the stirring shadows. Luckily, the room was rectangular, leaving plenty of retreat room before I got into trouble.

Quinn, there's something else in this room.

I know. He was still near the entrance, but the creature he fought seemed to be slipping into death, the deep red of its life force barely visible, almost entirely swamped by night.

They don't feel as big, but just as nasty.

They are young.

Young?

As in, a nest of young.

Oh shit. No wonder mama and papa were so pissed. They were determined to protect their kits, not the labs. We need to get out of here before those youngsters decide to help out.

It would be a better idea than fighting them all right now.

I continued to retreat, watching the creature as I groped behind me in an effort to find each table before I ran into it. Though I couldn't see an exit through the blackness, logic said there had to be one. I had an odd feeling that if we got out of the lab, the creatures might leave us alone.

Which, considering these creatures were flesh eaters, didn't exactly make a whole lot of sense. I mean, surely it wasn't an everyday occurrence that dinner walked so willingly into their lair?

My fingers touched the cold surface of another table. As I edged around it, the creature leapt. Once again I spun and kicked, spraying blood through the air in the process. Claws skittered against the tiles, drawing closer. The young were drawn by the scent of blood more than the need to help their parents.

My blow caught the creature in the gut, the force of it reverberating up my leg. It sent the creature crashing into another table and had to have left a huge dent in the surface. It shook its head and rose to its feet, then launched itself through the air again. I quickly sidestepped. The creature tried to twist around, but its claws found no purchase against the tiled surface and it slid right on by. Giving me the chance I needed to look quickly around.

The young were muted flecks of red huddled in the far left corner of the room. Beyond them was what appeared to be a large fissure in the concrete walls. The exit stood to my right and thankfully, didn't appear print- or key-coded. As the creature picked itself up and twisted around, I ran like hell for the door and hauled it open.

Quinn, I found the exit. Get your butt over here.

He didn't answer, but I'd barely taken a breath when his hand hit my shoulder, sending me flying as he slammed the door shut behind us. There was a thump on the other side, as if a body had hit it. Hard. But the handle didn't slid downward. Maybe creatures who held no real substance couldn't open doors - though they sure as hell could cause real enough damage to flesh.

Claws might be good against flesh, concrete, and rock but they are of little use against steel. His hand wrapped warmly against my upper arm. Your leg bleeds profusely.

It's not deep, and we can't afford any more delays. The words were absent as I climbed to my feet and looked around. We were in a corridor lined with doors. Given there were no aromas other than age riding the air, it was pretty safe to guess they were empty. At the end of a corridor was another containment door, but this wasn't like the others we'd passed so far. It was more the type seen in movies about ships and subs. It had a wheel lock in the center that had to be turned to open or close. As far as I knew, doors like those had been phased out decades ago, which lent weight to Quinn's earlier statement that this area was far older than the cartel's usage of it.

I am a vampire. Though Quinn's mind-voice was soft, it held a note of censure. I blinked, taking a moment to realize he was answering my earlier statement. I control my base needs, but I am not made of steel, and I cannot forever ignore such a delicious odor.

Call me a dolt, but I'd actually forgotten the blood would call him. I shifted shape immediately, then motioned him forward. And here I was thinking you only took blood while making love.

For blood as sweetly addictive as yours, I would make an exception. His gaze briefly met mine. I have done so in the past, remember.

Images of him licking the wound on my wrist came to mind, and desire skittered across my skin. Who'd have thought the touch of a vampire's tongue on a non-intimate place such as a wrist had the power to make a woman orgasm like that?

Not me. And it was an experience I wouldn't mind repeating - just not here, not now.

No. He grasped the wheel and spun it. There was a soft click and the door opened, smooth as butter. But later, most certainly.

You're awfully certain there is going to be a 'later'.

If there's one thing I know about werewolves, it's that they are easily addicted to good sex. The fact of the matter is, I give good sex.

I gave a mental snort. And a whole lot of arrogance.

After over a thousand years of refining my technique, I have a right to the arrogance.

It's just a shame that a thousand years of living didn't also teach you tolerance of other race's beliefs and practices.

Amusement ran through my mind, as warm as a summer breeze and just as enticing. I left the door wide open for that jibe.

Yeah, he had. So why was he amused rather than annoyed? That didn't run with what I'd seen of him so far - though, I guess I hadn't seen a whole lot of the real Quinn. Just the "gotta avenge my friend at all costs" Quinn.

And that one was hard enough to resist. I'd be putty in his hands if he actually turned on the charm for a change.

Somehow, I'm doubting that.

His voice was wry and I grinned as I edged around the corner. More darkness, corridors, and labs. Only this time, the air was warm, and heavily layered with scents that were either human, organic, or chemical in origin. And accompanying the scents, voices - men and women chatting softly. There appeared to be no concern that the darkness was anything more than a simple blackout, which was good. It meant they wouldn't be as watchful as they should be.

A soft noise caught my attention. I looked at the left-hand corridor, zoning out the drone of conversation and concentrating on the noise coming only from that corridor. Again I heard it, clearer this time - the whimper of a child.

Dia's kid. Had to be.

I padded into the darkness, my bare feet making little noise on the cold white tiles.

How many hearts beat in the lab directly in front?

He paused, then said, Three, not including the child.

Can you hold the adults, make them see nothing, while I rescue the kid?

Doing so as I speak. Amusement filled his voice as he added, Not that I think they'd be taking much notice of anything else but each other at the moment anyway.

I opened the lab door and saw what he meant. The three adults - two men and one female - had obviously decided to put the darkness to good use, because they had a little menage a trois happening. The expression on the woman's face said she was enjoying every minute, and why wouldn't she? Having every need attended to so thoroughly by several willing men was bliss - though for me, personally, the whole bum entry thing just didn't work.

I looked past them and saw the small room at the end.

Inside the solitary small crib was a tiny child whose aura was so bright it forced me to blink.

Hurry, Riley. Our time is almost up.

I hurried. But only to the doorway. Starr was sick enough to set up some sort of trap to protect his hostage on the off chance that the power went off.

I couldn't see anything out of place. I stuck an arm through the doorway, and nothing happened. No alarms, no bombs, no traps. I walked over to the cot.

The child inside was the image of her mother - white on white - except for her eyes. They were the most amazing shade of violet I'd ever seen. And not only that, the kid seemed aware. Like she knew why I was there, and what I intended.

There were no wires attached to the little girl, but given Dia said her daughter had been booby-trapped, I wasn't about to pick her up until I was very sure it was safe.

I gently felt her limbs and little body, trying to see if there was anything implanted, then did the same to the area surrounding the cot. It wasn't until I looked underneath that I saw the sensors.

I looked in Quinn's direction. He was looking at me rather than the free floor show, which was a little surprising given his earlier flirtation with voyeurism.

It looks like the cot is rigged with explosives or something. Can you search their minds and find out where the kill switch is?

There had to be one, simply because Dia was allowed to cuddle her child once a week.

Light switch near the door is the trip. He paused. Lucky you didn't just lift her up - it's powered by the backup gen, same as the security doors.

It figured. Once I'd flicked the switch, I wrapped the child in her blanket and lifted her up. She didn't say anything, didn't do anything, not even wriggle or whimper at being picked up by a sweaty, bloody stranger. She just looked at me with those amazing eyes of hers.

Seeing too much, as her mother felt too much.

A shiver ran through me. Maybe Starr wasn't just keeping this child for ransom reasons. Maybe he also wanted to know what was going on inside her head. Because something definitely was.

Jack wants me to blow this lab if possible.

I've instructed one of the lovers to reset the switch as we leave, Quinn said. The cot will blow instantly, and it'll give us cover and time to escape.

And Starr might just think someone got careless.

Perhaps.

Quinn sounded doubtful, and I can't say I blamed him. I cradled the little girl close and walked back to Quinn. The threesome on the floor where reaching the heights, their moans becoming louder and louder.

People come to investigate the noise. Shadow the child. He turned and led the way back out.

I drew the darkness over the child's body and followed Quinn out the door. Several people had gathered at the end of the corridor, sniggering and talking. Even as we passed them, they began to creep forward. At least with their attention on the threesome doing the horizontal tango, they were less inclined to notice us. Not that Quinn would have allowed them to, anyway.

A point he proceeded to prove by spinning open the old door and ushering me through. Not one of those in the hall turned to look, even though some were very close. When the door had closed again, I asked, How are we going to get back through the chameleons?

We run like hell.

No, really.

Really.

Fuck. Chameleons were fast. I knew that, he knew that. Outrunning them hadn't been an option the first time I'd crossed paths with these creatures, and I doubted it would be now.

As we reached the door, an explosion shook the air and the walls. Dust rained down from the ceiling, and alarms began to sound. Quinn ignored it all and gripped the door handle, his fingers a flame against the cool metal. Ready?

No. I cradled the baby a little closer, shielding her as much as possible, then reluctantly nodded.

Quinn thrust the door open, and I ran through. The darkness howled, a sound of anger that seemed to echo off the very walls. Air stirred, a whirlwind of hate that seemed to be aimed at me more than Quinn. I didn't look back, didn't look sideways, just concentrated on getting to the door and the tunnel beyond it.

Something brushed past my hair and crashed into the wall near the door as I ran through. Bones snapped, a creature howled. Quinn, cleaning up behind me, ensuring safe passage. I fled into the tunnel, my footsteps slapping against the cold stone.

Behind me, a creature roared, the reverberations echoing through the red-tinged darkness. Though I heard no sound, Quinn grabbed my arm, pushing me forward faster. It felt like I was being run off my feet and yet didn't seem anywhere near fast enough.

Wasn't fast enough.

Even as the ladder came into sight, there was an odd click and suddenly cameras were moving, tracking us.

A heartbeat later another alarm sounded, closer and harsher than the other, a strident sound that was deafening in the tunnel confines.

The child didn't make a sound. Didn't move. She breathed - I could feel it, see the bright heat of her body - but her stillness was eerie. Hell, I jumped when that alarm started, but not the kid. It was almost as if she understood that she couldn't cry, that to do so would put us all in even greater danger.

Of course, she could also be doped out of her tiny mind, but somehow, that just didn't ring true.

Maybe it was me who was out of my tiny mind.

As we neared the ladder, Quinn touched my shoulder. I slowed, watching as he scrambled up. From behind came the skitter of claws on stone. He hadn't locked the security door and I cursed him - until I realized he'd given us cover. Starr just might think it was the creatures who had tripped the alarm.

I reached for the rungs and began to climb. It didn't matter if it was clear or not up top - I'd rather face six men with guns that two extremely pissed chameleons.

No matter how awkward it might have been to climb a ladder while holding a kid, let me tell you that no ladder had ever been climbed quite so fast. Quinn grabbed my hand and helped me over the final section, then slammed the door shut on my heels and closed the cover.

I leapt over the bodies of two security guards who'd obviously been patrolling nearby, and ran like hell into the thick darkness of the forest.

The thump of many footsteps against concrete suggested security were answering the alarm. I hoped my brother wasn't amongst them or, at least, wasn't the first in line to open that door.

Unease rolled through me again, and this time, I knew for sure it centered on Rhoan. I just wasn't entirely sure why. Was it simply sibling concern? Or the growing certainty that something had gone seriously wrong for him? Maybe the next thing I needed to do once I'd delivered Dia's child to safety was hunt him out - if only to see him and ensure he was okay.

Because the last time I'd felt anything like this, he'd been kidnapped and milked for his seed.

And then something else hit me - the realization that Starr was likely to check the whereabouts of all his people. Including the whores and us fighters. I stopped abruptly.

"What's wrong?" Quinn's voice was even, showing no hint of breathlessness despite all we'd been through. Annoying, to say the least.

"I need to get back to my room, which means I need you to do me a favor." I swiped at the sweat trickling down the side of my face. "Will you take the child to the forest and wait for the shifter to come in and collect her?"

He frowned, and gave the silent little girl a dark look. "I am not overly fond of children."

"I'm not asking you to be fond of her. I'm just asking if you'd take her to safety."

He didn't answer immediately, so I offered up the child. Somewhat reluctantly, he took her. "When and where?"

Rather than respond, I flicked the com-link, and said, "Jack?"

"Regular reports, Riley. That was in the very first lesson on proper guardian behavior."

"I think that was the one I slept through."

He swore. "Damnit, just report."

I smiled. It might not be wise to bait my boss, but damn if it didn't feel good when he bit. "We've got the kid and blown the lab but the shit has temporarily hit the fan. Quinn's going to bring the child to the meet now. I've got to get back and act like nothing has happened."

"Everyone's cover still intact?"

"That very much depends whether the cameras in the tunnels had infrared or not." I hesitated. "Listen, those underground levels are not new. Quinn reckons they're far older than the cartel itself. You don't think this place is situated an old military bunker, do you?"

"Maybe one named Libraska, you mean?"

"Well, it does make sense for Starr to have his most valuable asset close to hand." And it would also explain the existence of the elevator entrance to his rooms - the one no one seemed to know about.

"We've no records of any installation, military or not, being built in this area, but I'll get Alex to check with her Government source. Hopefully, we'll have an answer soon as to what Starr is sitting on."

Alex was Alex Hunter, the woman responsible for the birth of the Directorate, and who'd been in charge of it since its inception. Not only was she a very old vampire - far older than even Quinn - but she was also Jack's sister. Talk about job security.

Though how Jack could be several hundred years younger than Quinn, and yet still be the sibling of someone several hundred years older was a point Jack and said sister had so far been unwilling to explain. But I very much intended to get an answer, even if I had to nag Jack to death.

"Where do you want Quinn to meet your removalist?"

"There's an old pine leaning over the fence near the south corner. We'll have people there in five." He hesitated. "Be careful. And keep in contact, Riley. I mean it."

I'm sure he meant it the first time he said it, too. It still didn't mean I'd remember. I flicked off the com-link and glanced at Quinn. "You'd better get moving."

He nodded and shifted his grip on the child, then wrapped his free hand around the back of my neck and pulled me close. His lips, when they met mine, were warm and demanding, the kiss itself unlike any other kiss from any other man. It was both a promise of intent and a declaration of feeling, and so damn right - so damn hot - it had me melting.

A sigh escaped when his lips left mine. He chuckled softly. "Keep that thought for when all this is over."

I opened my eyes and stared into the obsidian depths of his for several heartbeats. "Only if you accept what I am, Quinn. It wouldn't be fair to either of us, otherwise."

His smile was tinged with bitterness, though that bitterness didn't seem aimed at me but rather himself. "It has occurred to me that to win the race, I must first be in the race. I may not like a werewolf's propensity for many mates, but if sharing means I get the chance to prove that we are meant to be, then I have little other choice but to accept it."

My hormones did a happy little jig. "Meaning no more demands that I see you, and you alone? No more jibes at the werewolf culture?"

"Yes to the first, and I will try to the second."

Well, that was better than nothing. I leaned forward and kissed him gently. "Thank you."

"Even the very old can try to change if we see something worth changing for." He briefly touched my cheek with his fingertips, then stepped back. "Be very careful in that house."

I nodded. He turned and disappeared into the night, though I watched the flame of his body heat until the trees took it from sight. After which, I turned and headed back to my room.

Only Berna was there when I entered, but she wasn't asleep. Far from it. Her expression was dark, angry, like she was ready to hit someone. And her eyes, when her gaze met mine, suggested that someone was me.

I stopped cold, wondering what the hell I'd done. Other than whip their asses earlier, that is.

But before I could ask, pain hit. Deep, deep pain that struck like a hammer, smashing through my body, driving me to my knees and snatching the air from my lungs.

It wasn't my pain.

It was Rhoan's.