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Dangerous Games (Riley Jenson Guardian #4)(2)

By:Keri Arthur

Even it wasn’t real, it was a reminder that I had to be extra careful. Gautier had never really functioned on the same sane field as the rest of us. Worse still, he liked playing with his prey. Liked watching the pain and fear grow before he killed.
He might now consider me his mouse but he’d yet to try any of his games on me. But something told me that all that would change tonight.
I grimaced and did my best to ignore the insight. Clairvoyance might have been okay if it had come in a truly usable form—like clear glimpses of future scenes and happenings—but no, that was apparently asking too much of fate. Instead, I just got these weird feelings of upcoming doom that were frustratingly vague on any sort of concrete detail. And training something like that was nigh on impossible—not that that stopped Jack from getting his people to at least try.
Whether the elusiveness would change as the talent became more settled was anyone’s guess. Personally, I just wished it would go back to being latent. I knew Gautier was out there, somewhere. Knew he was coming after me. I didn’t need some half-assed talent sending me spooky little half-warnings every other day.
Still, even though I knew Gautier probably wasn’t out here tonight, I couldn’t help looking around and checking all the shadows as I said, “Brother dearest, I hate this fucking job.”
Rhoan’s soft laughter ran into my ear. Just hearing it made me feel better. Safer. “Nights like this are a bitch, aren’t they?”
“Understatement of the year.” I quickly peeked around the corner and saw the vampire turning left. I padded after him, keeping to the wall and well away from the puddles. Though, given the state of my feet, it really wouldn’t have mattered. “And I feel obligated to point out that I didn’t sign up for night work.”
Rhoan chuckled softly. “And I feel obliged to point out that you weren’t actually signed up, but forcibly drafted. Therefore, you can bitch all you want but it isn’t going to make a damned bit of difference.”
Wasn’t that the truth. “Where are you?”
“West side, near the old biscuit factory.”
Which was practically opposite my position. Between the two of us, we had him penned. Hopefully that meant we wouldn’t lose him.
I stopped as I neared the corner and carefully peered around. The wind slapped against my face, and the rain on my skin seemed to turn to ice. The vamp had stopped near the far end of the building and was looking around. I ducked back as he looked my way, barely daring to breathe even though common sense suggested there was no way he could have seen me. Not only did I have vampire genes, but I had many of their skills, as well. Like the ability to cloak under the shadow of night, the infrared vision, and their faster-than-a-blink speed.
The creak of a door sounded. I risked another look. A metal door stood ajar and the vamp was nowhere in sight.
An invitation or a trap?
I didn’t know, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to take a chance. Not alone, anyway.
“Rhoan, he’s gone inside building number four. Rear entrance, right-hand side.”
“Wait for me to get there before you go in.”
“I’m foolhardy, but I’m not stupid.”
He chuckled again. I slipped around the corner and crept toward the door. The wind caught the edge of it and flung it back against the brick wall, the crash echoing across the night. It was an oddly lonely sound.
I froze and concentrated, using the keenness of my wolf hearing to sort through the noises running with the wind. But the howl of it was just too strong, overriding everything else.
Nor could I smell anything more than ice, age, and abandonment. If there were such smells and it wasn’t just my overactive imagination.Yet a feeling of wrongness was growing deep inside. I rubbed my leather-covered arms and hoped like hell my brother got here fast.
“Okay,” Rhoan said eventually, the suddenness of his soft voice running through my ear making me jump. “I’m around at the front. The main door is locked, but there’s several broken windows. I’m going in.”
“Can you smell anyone other than our vampire?”
“No.” He paused. “Can you?”
“No. But there’s something—or someone—else here that feels evil.”
He didn’t question my certainty. Over the years, my instincts for trouble had saved us from as many situations as they had gotten us into. The only difference now was the fact that my developing clairvoyance gave us some warning of the type of trouble we were heading into rather than us discovering it the hard way.
Which I guess made it of some use, no matter how frustrating it was otherwise.
“Use the laser, then,” he said. “Better safe than sorry.”
I reached into my coat pocket and slipped the weapon into my hand. It was the latest in laser technology—a palm-sized weapon that packed enough power to blow the shit out of the thickest brick wall. Needless to say, it had a pretty nasty effect on humans and nonhumans alike.
“Jack will have our skins if we laser that vamp before he questions him about his maker.” Because the maker had the responsibility of care, and by letting his baby go rogue, he’d basically signed his own death warrant.
“I’d rather face his wrath than have a dead sister.”
I grinned. “You just don’t want to face doing the laundry by yourself.”
“I can sweet-talk Liander into doing my laundry. It’s your charming early-morning cheeriness I’d miss.”
“I’m fine as long as you feed me coffee first thing,” I replied mildly. “And I wouldn’t be placing bets on Liander doing your clothes. He sounded pretty pissed off with you last time I talked to him.”
“Yeah, well, he shouldn’t try placing unreasonable restraints on me.”
“Didn’t we have this very same discussion four months ago?” I did a quick peek around the doorway. Nothing but darkness. I blinked, flicking to the infrared of my vampire vision. Still nothing but rubbish-strewn emptiness. “I’m ready to head in.”
“Me, too.” He paused. “And yeah, we did have this same discussion.”
“So, did you talk to him like I told you to?”
“Sort of.”
Meaning he’d gone for the ignore-everything-and-give-good-sex option. No wonder Liander had a smile a mile wide the next morning. 
And no wonder he was back to being an unhappy camper now.
“Can I remind you that a good man is hard to find?”
“Can I remind you you’re here to capture a vampire, not to lecture your older, more experienced, brother?”
I grinned. He’d beaten me into this world by a whole five minutes. “Heading in now.”
“Me, too.”
I snuck around the corner, keeping low and close to the wall as I scanned the immediate surroundings. The room was large, and had a wide platform running around the edges. It looked like a loading bay, one where the trucks just reversed to the ramp and the goods were wheeled directly out. Two double-swing doors were visible, one directly ahead and one to my left. The left one swung slightly—an obvious indication that someone had gone through it recently.
So why did the scent trail lead straight ahead?
I wasn’t sure, but I wasn’t trusting visual evidence, not in a place that smelled so much like a trap. I padded right, keeping to the walls, following the muted odor of death up the ramp and through the door.
A long hallway dotted with doorways greeted me. The air here was close, and had a stale, almost rotten smell. Like something had been decaying here for a very long time.
I wrinkled my nose and hoped like hell it was just putrid rubbish of the non-flesh kind, even as my wolf senses told me that at least some of the smells weren’t.
Obviously, there’d been more victims snatched by the baby vamp and perhaps his maker than had been reported.
I continued on, opening each door and trying to ignore the more tangible signs of decay and death in each room as I went. The baby vamp couldn’t be working alone, that much was obvious. There were at least ten whole bodies, as well as an assortment of various body parts—limbs, heads, and organs—scattered throughout the rooms. Even a newly turned vamp at the height of his feeding frenzy couldn’t consume that much blood.
I eventually reached another swinging door. The scent of death was stronger here, meaning the baby vampire was closer. Much closer. Like just beyond the door. Trying for an ambush, perhaps? If so, he might have considered a shower first. His natural odor was a dead giveaway to anyone with a decent honker.
I stepped back a little and kicked the doors open. As they crashed back, I dove through, rolling onto my feet and sighting the laser’s target on the vamp in one smooth movement.
He was younger than I’d presumed—a teenager rather than someone in his late twenties. This close, the veins under his pale skin were very visible, and were the healthy blue of a well-fed bloodsucker.
His sudden laugh had goose bumps fleeing across my skin. Not because of the low, chilling sound, but because his laugh reminded me of another’s.
Gautier.
Did that mean our rogue guardian was the kid’s maker? It would certainly explain how he’d escaped the Directorate for nine kills.
The thought had barely crossed my mind when awareness surged, prickling like fire across my skin.
He was here. Gautier was here.
Fuck.
Panic surged, but I thrust it down ruthlessly. To give in to panic would be playing into Gautier’s hand. He loved fear. Fed on it.