Bound to Shadows (Riley Jenson Guardian #8)

Which didn't mean the ever-so-brief touch had no effect. Quite the opposite, in fact. "It's hardly your fault these four decided to be morons." I barely resisted the urge to wipe the lingering heat of his flesh from onto my jeans. He'd basically saved my life, so the least I could do was not insult him by showing such an outwardly adverse reaction to his touch. "Or that the bouncer values his hatred more than his job."

He smiled, but there was nothing warm about it, and I was suddenly damn glad that look hadn't been aimed my way. Jack might not have a very high opinion of this vampire, but I suspected he was way more dangerous than he was letting on.

"Whether or not he has specific grudges against guardians should never have come into it. He was employed to do a job and I expected him to do it."

I couldn't really argue with that. I looked past him. The vampire he'd stopped - who happened to be the leader of this little band of morons - was lying on the ground, his back twisted at an odd angle. Meaning it was broken. While this wasn't a fatal wound for a vampire, it sure as hell put them through a slow and painful recovery. I can't say I was sorry about that. Although if his friends didn't get him out of the street before dawn, he wouldn't have to worry about the pain. He'd be burnt to a crisp by the sunlight.

Couldn't say I'd be sorry about that, either.

I looked back at Dante. Anger still burned in his golden eyes, but the heat of it had tampered a little, its force replaced by a heat that was more sexual in nature. Surprisingly, there was no spark of blood hunger lighting the deeper depths - an oddity given the blood that still poured down my back.. But maybe he'd just fed. The meeting the bartender had mentioned could very well have been code for feeding.

I wondered if he fed during sex, like Quinn. I couldn't actually smell sex on him, just the delicious aroma of desire. It was a wave of heat that caressed my skin as sensually as any touch, and it sent little prickles of longing shuddering through my body.

This vampire was dangerous all right - and not just in the way I'd presumed moments ago.

I stepped away, trying to deflate the intensity of my awareness, suddenly glad that not every vampire had sexual glamor. Non-humans and humans alike would have been in deep trouble if they had.

He smiled and closed the distance between us again.

"How badly did the vamp on your back wound you?" he asked, his golden gaze flicking to the vampire behind me. It was just as well he was still unconscious, because if that look was anything to go by, he would have suffered a fate far worse than a broken back.

"I've had worse," I said, which was true enough. Even so, I'd have to shift shape soon or Quinn would have to forgo his feeding the next time we made love. I stepped further away, but it didn't ease my hunger for the golden vampire.

Amusement played about his lush mouth. "Why not come back to the club and clean yourself up? I promise not to peek while you strip down."

Yeah, believing that. "I'm afraid I'm expected back at the Directorate - "

"And you wouldn't stay anyway, even if I offered you your favorite coffee." He paused, studying me. "I find it odd that a werewolf is so reluctant to pursue such an obvious attraction."

"And we both know that this isn't an attraction, but the sexual glamor you're using on me."

"Ah. You know about that."

"Yeah, so stop it."

He waved his hands and somehow managed to look woebegone. "If only I could. But alas, it is part of my make-up and therefore uncontrollable."

"Other women might buy that. I don't." I took the printouts from my pocket. "Don't suppose you know either of these men, do you?"

He took the photos from me, his fingers somehow managing to brush mine and send yet another delicious shiver of desire skating through me.

"That one, no," he said, giving me back the one I suspected was Kye in disguise. "This man isn't a regular, but I have seen him around before. I believe his name is Luke. Luke Johnson."

"Is he a vamp?"

"Human. The few times he was in the club, he was fed on, not feeding." He handed me back the printout. "If you'd like, I can ask around and see if any of my staff know of him."

"I'd like." I folded the pictures up and shoved them back into my pocket. "If you do happen to find anything, just call the Directorate."

"If I find anything, I shall insist you come and get it. After all, I just saved your life, so you can hardly deprive me of another glimpse of your beauty."

I snorted softly. "Do shitty pick up lines like that often work for you?"

His sudden grin had my hormones racing about excitedly. "Totally. In fact, it's working now - only you won't acknowledge it."

He had that right. "Again, thanks for your help."

"My pleasure," he said. Then, moving with lightning speed, he caught my hand and dragged me against his long, strong body. His free hand slid under my sweater, caressing skin, sending delighted shivers up my spine. "Are you sure you don't want to come back? That wound bleeds profusely and should really be tended to."

His lips were so close that his breath burned mine, and suddenly it was all I could do not to stand on my tippy-toes and kiss him. "Starke, release me or I'll kick you in the balls."

And that would hurt, given the current rock hard state of that area.

"I'm only trying to help - "

"Bullshit. Now release me."

He sighed dramatically and did as I asked. I stepped back and tried to ignore the hammering of my heart. And the urge to step right back into the hard warmth of his embrace.

"Don't try that again, Starke, or there will be trouble."

Amusement glittered in his bright eyes. "Trouble and I are old companions. I enjoy its taste." His gaze swept down me then rose to meet mine again. His desire was stronger than ever before, scorching my skin. "As I will eventually enjoy tasting you."

He gave me a slight bow then walked away before I could say anything, his gait effortless and sexy.

Lord. I mentally slapped the lusty image away, then shifted shape and trotted to the car. Once back in human form, I took off my blood-sodden sweater and shredded bra, chucked them in the trunk, and retrieved the spare t-shirt I kept there for emergencies.

As I climbed into the car, my phone rang. I turned the key in the ignition to warm the engine, then answered the call. "Riley here."

"Riley? Liander. Rhoan's just been shot."

My heart just about stopped. For several minutes, I couldn't think, couldn't speak, couldn't do anything. Rhoan had been shot. And I hadn't felt it. Hadn't even known he was in trouble.

"He's okay," Liander added quickly. "The bullet winged him, nothing more. They've almost finished stitching the wound and it looks fine."

If he was in a hospital, then it was more than just a graze. I needed to get there. "Where is he?"

"At the Albert Hospital. But there's no need to come here - meet us at home."

"Liander, I can't - "

"Riley," Liander interrupted, tone stern. "He's okay. He's being released, but it'll take us at least another hour to finish up here and get home, so you might as well meet us there."

I took a deep, shuddering breath. He was right, I knew that, but the urge to run to my twin's side was an instinct I couldn't easily shake. "Okay, I see you there."

"Good."

I hit the end button, then glanced down as the phone beeped again. This time it was a text. I opened the message.

How's your brother? it said. Silver bullets can cause such nasty wounds.

Just that. Nothing more.

But I didn't need anything more, because I knew exactly who it was from.

Kye was a dead man.

With Rhoan safe and Liander advising me to meet them at home rather than the hospital, it was an easy decision to go after Kye. I already had an appointment set up with the man, and the attempt on Rhoan's life made me eager to keep it.

Which was probably the reason he'd shot Rhoan in the first place.

Proximity Drive in Brooklyn turned out to be a road filled with hulking great warehouses. Number five was caged by wire, but unlike the others in the street, it wasn't surrounded by tower lights. It sat in the shadows - a long, slender building that seemed out of place amongst its beefier peers.

I drove up to the gates, but before I could wind down the window and press the intercom button, the gates began to open. I leaned forward and spotted the camera perched atop the posts. Kye must have been watching for me. No surprise there.

I sucked in a breath that did little to control anger still roiling inside, then lifted my foot off the brake and drove forward. A solitary light gleamed about half way down the long white building, illuminating a heavy steel door.

I parked in a bay near the door, then transferred Cole's report from the computer to my phone and climbed out. There was another camera perched above the doorway, and the door clicked open as I approached it.

"Follow the hallway," came Kye's instructions, seemingly out of nowhere because I couldn't see a speaker. "I'm in the second room on the right."

The door swung shut behind me. The only light on in the place seemed to be coming from a semi-shut doorway down the far end of the hall. The air was crisp and cold, and my nipples puckered in response. I crossed my arms - though it didn't do a lot to alleviate the chill - and walked forward.

It took all my control not to run.

Unsurprisingly, the second doorway on the right was the one emitting the light into the hall. I pressed my fingertips against the cool metal and slowly opened it. I wasn't sure what to expect, but it sure as hell wasn't a rifle range.

Kye was shooting at a target set far down at the other end of the room, but the minute I walked in, he swung around. The gun was long and mean-looking, and it was aimed squarely at my heart.

I stopped. I might want to kill him, but I didn't want to die in the process. "You shot my brother."

The gun didn't waiver. Neither did the waves of cool amusement that were coming off him. He was dressed in jeans and a tight fitting black t-shirt, and part of me couldn't help admiring the way it defined his back and clung to the top of his biceps.

Obviously, my wolf was as insane as the man she was admiring.

"I thought," he said, his voice flat and oh-so controlled, "you might need a little reminder about our meeting tonight."

"He's a guardian, Kye. You just committed an arrestable offence."

"Arrest me, and both your brother and that mate of his will be dead within the hour."

Fury boiled through me, but it was accompanied by bitter confusion. "Why do this? He's my twin - anything you do to him might just rebound back through me to you."

He raised an eyebrow. "And you think I care?"

I didn't know what to think. "I was coming here anyway. You didn't have to shoot him to make your point."

"You and I both know you'd forgotten about our meeting."

He was right - I had. But how the hell had he known that? He could sometimes read my thoughts, but up until now, I hadn't realized it was a long distance occurrence. "I'll damn well kill you if you try anything like that again."

He finally looked up from the rifle's sights and gave me a cold, hard smile. "No you won't. The difference between me and you, Riley, is that you have people you care about. I don't."

Not even me, the woman who was his soul mate.

And while that should have made me happy, it only increased the anger. At him, at me, and at this whole, twisted situation.

I flexed my fingers, trying to ease the tension in my body. It didn't help. Nothing would. Not when it came to dealing with this man and his perverse games.

The worst of it was, there was nothing I could do about any of it. He was right about one thing - I had people I cared about and I would not risk their lives. Even if that meant having to accept this man into mine.

"Care for a little shooting practice?" he said, and the intensity of his gaze had my stomach doing flip flops. "I've always wondered which one of us was better. And faster."

"Giving me a gun might not be the wisest of moves right now," I said, desperately trying to hold on to the anger. To not give into the urge to walk to this man and claim what my body craved. Damn it, he shot my brother.

But right now, my wolf didn't seem to care.

"Why were you at Dante's the night Grant Haven was killed?"

He raised an eyebrow, then proceeded to break the rifle apart, quickly cleaning the various parts before putting them away in a luxuriously padded case. Only when everything was safe did he answer.

"Why do you smell like you've been covered in blood?"

"I asked my question first." Which sounded decidedly childish, but this man made it extremely easy to act that way.

Although there was nothing childish about the way he was looking at me. Nothing childish about the affect it had on me.

His lush lips twisted into a half smile as he walked forward. On any other man, that smile would have been seriously sexy. On Kye, it was simply dangerous.

"I was there following a lead. Nothing more, nothing less."

He stopped an arms length from me. Close enough that his heat and scent surrounded me. Close enough to reach out and touch if I wanted to.

I didn't touch, but that didn't mean I didn't want to.

I licked my lips, saw his gaze drop to follow the movement. Smelled the sweet surge of his desire. Clenched my fists against the urge to claim the kiss we both hungered for.