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Tempting Evil (Riley Jenson Guardian #3)(9)

By: Keri Arthur

And it was there, while I was nursing the steaming mug of coffee, that I finally let myself think about the way I’d attacked Quinn.
I’d never had that sort of power before. Yeah, I rated extremely high in all the Directorate telepathic tests, but I’d never gotten anywhere near reading Quinn’s surface thoughts before, let alone busting through any of his shields.
I had tonight, and with such power the force of it had blown him across the room.
Had anger allowed me to tap the reserves Jack kept insisting I had, but had never used? Or was this the first sign that the drug Talon had given me was finally beginning to affect my system?
I didn’t know.
But I had a bad feeling I was going to find out, and all too soon.
Chapter 3
Hey, Riley, you’re supposed to be waiting out in front of the building.”
Rhoan’s cheerful voice rose out of the stillness, making me start. I glanced at the clock and realized that almost an hour had passed since Quinn had left.
“Sorry,” I called, rinsing the mug under the tap as I tried to gather my composure.
Why I bothered I have no idea. He wasn’t fooled any more than I would have been.“What’s wrong?” He stopped in the kitchen doorway, his cheerful expression fading quickly to one of concern. “Are you okay?”
“Just dandy, bro.”
He frowned, then pulled me into his arms. For several minutes he didn’t say anything, just held me. Comforted me.
“Quinn raided my thoughts during sex,” I said eventually, my words muffled by his chest. “He knows we’re going after Starr.”
Tension slipped through his muscles, quick and sharp. “Bastard.”
“Exactly what I said. Several times.”
“I hope you made him pay.”
I sniffed. “Yeah, I did.” But who was going to be the real loser—him or me?
“Good.” He released me and stepped back. “Have you warned Jack?”
I shook my head. “There’s no need. Quinn’s going to the Directorate. He never got deep enough to discover we were going to Genoveve.”
“But once he discovers Jack’s not at the Directorate, Genoveve is the first place he’ll check.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll ring Jack. You ready to go?”
I nodded. There was nothing to pack, nothing to take, because from here on in, I was going to become someone else.
“Then let’s get out of here, just in case he decides to come back for a little more raiding.”
I nodded, then suddenly remembered Liander. “I just have to get one thing.”
I dashed into my bedroom to get Liander’s birthday present, then we left. Once we’d gotten into Liander’s van and had merged into the flow of Saturday-morning traffic, Rhoan called Jack. I leaned over the front passenger seat and plonked the present onto it.
“Hey, happy birthday, old man.”
“Forty-nine is hardly old for a werewolf. And kindly remember that you’re going out with someone more than twelve hundred years old.”
“Yeah well, that situation might have changed.” Though I’d forced a cheerful note into my voice, Liander didn’t appear any more fooled than my brother had been.
He gave me a concerned glance. “Are you okay?”
“Floating on happiness,” I said dryly. Then waved at the present. “You can open it when we get to Genoveve.”
“Or you could tell me now and save me the suspense.”
“I don’t think so.”
He studied it for a second, then said, “It almost looks like a book.”
It was—on the history of cinema effects. But I’d added a box of chocolates to fudge the shape a little. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
“Bitch.”
I grinned. 
“Do a U-turn,” Rhoan said, his hand momentarily over his cell phone. “Head for Chapel Street.”
“Chapel Street?” I said, surprised. “What the hell is there, besides upmarket shops and trendy snobs?”
He waved a hand for me to shut up, so I returned my attention to Liander. In the sharp morning light, he was an almost icy silver. The only thing that lent him some warmth was the blue of his clothes and the matching streaks in his hair.
“Going for the winter look this week, are we?”
He gave me a smile that had all sorts of warning signals flashing. “Winter is very ‘in’ at the moment. But just wait until you see what I have planned for you.”
“I think I should be afraid.”
“Very. You are going to be extremely foxy.”
My eyebrows rose. “Meaning I’m not now?”
“Darling, you’re pretty but very underdone. A little time, care, and makeup certainly wouldn’t go astray.”
“That’s a very backhanded compliment.”
He grinned. “Sometimes the truth hurts.”
“So can a smack in the head.”
His grin widened and he shook his head. “You are so like your brother sometimes, it’s scary.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Rhoan’s threatened to smack you?”
“Oh, many times.” He gave me a glance that was pure mischief. “Trouble is, I enjoy it.”
“I think that falls into the category of a little too much information at this hour of the morning.”
“Gentle pain can be quite a turn-on if it’s done right.”
“Give me normal sex anytime.” I pointed to the road ahead. “And if you don’t concentrate, you’re going to ram the back of that Ford.”
He slammed on the brakes, throwing me backward. “If you’d stop yakking about sex, I could concentrate.”
I shut up. After a few more ums and yeses, Rhoan hung up and glanced at me. “We’re going to Chapel Street because Jack lives above a restaurant—he owns the building and leases out the restaurant section.”
I frowned. “Is it safe going there?”
“Apparently only Director Hunter knows the address. A different address is used on files.”
And Quinn would never get the address off Director Hunter. Not only was she older in vampire years—and therefore more powerful—but because he was honor bound to obey her. Or so Quinn had said when he’d briefly mentioned the vampire hierarchy system a few months ago.
“We’re not going to get parking anywhere near that street at this hour,” Liander commented.
“There’s a multilevel parking lot behind the Jam Factory, which is just down the road from Jack’s.”
“Meaning we get to go shopping while we wait for Jack?” I glanced at my brother as I said it, but couldn’t resist adding the barb. “Oh, that’s right, you already have. That’s why we have no money left.”
“You got pretty sweaters, so don’t bitch.”
“I need to eat more than I need new sweaters.”
“We have tin food.”
“Spaghetti and baked beans just don’t cut it after a few days.”
He gave me an annoyed look. “You’re beginning to take all the fun out of shopping.”
Which was precisely the point of nagging. I grinned and looked away. We battled our way through the rush-hour traffic, getting there just after nine-thirty. Liander threw several large bags our way, then grabbed the remaining four himself. Jack was waiting in the shadows a few doors down from the Jam Factory complex, out of direct sunlight and well covered up. Age gave vampires a certain amount of immunity to the sun, so the older they were, the more they could walk in daylight. Quinn only had to avoid the hours between twelve and two. Jack, four hundred years younger, had tighter restrictions. He was probably pushing his limits right now.We followed him to a small door to the right of an Italian restaurant, and up a set of stairs. His apartment was one long room—barring a doorway that led to what I presumed would be the bathroom and laundry—and surprisingly airy, with the front and back walls all windows. Though right now, awnings covered the back windows to stop direct sunlight. The color scheme and furnishings were very masculine, all blue colors, dark woods, and rich leather, and the walls were covered in what looked like prints from the old masters. Only they weren’t prints, but real paintings. Given how old Jack was, that was more likely than it seemed.
“So,” Jack said, as we dumped the bags on the floor near the table. “How did Quinn discover the mission timetable had been moved up?”
“Through me.” I pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. “Apparently the fact we’ve shared blood has given him greater access to my mind—shields or no shields.”
Jack raised his eyebrows. “If that were the case, he’d be here, not heading to Genoveve.”
“You’ve got him under observation?” Rhoan asked.
Jack nodded. “We seconded several hawk-shifters from Overseas Operations recently to tail Gautier. One of them is currently on Quinn. He’d sense another vampire, even if we had a guardian who could go out in morning sunshine.”
Which was why Jack was so determined to set up a daytime division, with me, Rhoan, Kade, and Liander all as its chief operatives. Right now, the Directorate was very limited in its operational times, and not all the bad guys did the nasty stuff during the night.
“Quinn can only read my thoughts during times of stress or pleasure,” I explained. “So right now, no matter how much he tries, he hasn’t a hope of getting past my shield.”
Which wasn’t exactly the entire truth—he could actually touch my mind during sleep, as well. But I was pretty sure that was a connection that took both of us to form and went no deeper than a dream state.