Dangerous Games (Riley Jenson Guardian #4)(42)

He looked at me. “Frustrated enough to walk away?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck.”
“Yes.”
“I can’t do monogamous. I don’t want to do monogamous.”
“There’s always compromises in any relationship, Rhoan. Maybe this is one you and Liander have to come to.” And I honestly didn’t think Liander would mind Rhoan having other partners in a work situation. As long as he was committed outside of it. “If you care for him as much as you say, bro, it might pay to give a little.”
He grimaced. “I don’t know—”
“Talk to him. At least do that.”
“Okay.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“I’ll nag you endlessly if you don’t.”
He laughed. “You do anyway.” The phone rang again and he glanced down. “And for God’s sake, answer that, before the poor man has a coronary.”
“Him having a coronary could solve some problems.”
“Not if he’s a demon who can just go get another body.” Rhoan glanced in the rearview mirror again. “Answer the damn phone.”
I pressed the receiver and said “Hello,” even as I flipped down the sunshade and slid aside the cover of the vanity mirror. Rhoan kept looking at something behind us, but for the moment, I couldn’t see what.
“I’m sorry,” Jin said, voice warm and contrite. “I acted like an ass last night.”
“Yes, you did,” I said coolly. “And it wasn’t appreciated.”
“Can I make up for it?”
“I don’t know. Can you?”
“Would an expensive lunch be a start?”
Given I had no intention of spending any more time in this man’s company than necessary—and I did use the term man loosely—lunch was definitely out. “It would be nice, but I can’t today.”
“How about dinner, then? A friend is having an exclusive dinner party at his Toorak mansion, and the food and company are usually excellent.”
Yeah, I just bet they were. “I could be tempted.”
“Could be?”
“Most certainly.”
“Shall I pick you up?”
“I prefer to drive. That way, I have transport in case there’s a sudden ass attack.”
He laughed. “Then I shall meet you at my friend’s.” He gave me Kingsley’s address. “I promise, no sudden ass attacks tonight.”
He was either very sure of the attraction between us, or he was trying to regain my trust by making out like he had nothing to hide. Why else would he give me the address? I mean, he had to be very sure I wouldn’t report it to someone—like the cops. “Good. What time shall I meet you?”
“Seven.”
“Until then, then.”
I hung up and shoved the phone back in my pocket. “One job done.”
“You be careful in there tonight.”
“I’ll be fine. And you’ll be listening in via the van—won’t you?”
“Yeah, but there’re still too many variables we just don’t understand at the moment, and I’ve just got an edgy feeling it could all go ass up.”
He looked in the mirror again, and I frowned. “What the hell do you keep looking at?”
“I think we picked up a tail.”
I flipped down the vanity mirror again. “Where?”
“Three cars back, white Toyota.”The car wasn’t hard to spot—it wasn’t like he was trying to hide or anything. “You sure?”
“Not a hundred percent. It’s just a hunch.”
I’d back Rhoan’s hunches over most people’s certainties any day. “You want me to call it in?”
“Nope. You feel up to a little interrogation session?”
I raised my eyebrows, and tried to ignore my pulse’s little jump of excitement. “We got time?”
He glanced at his watch. “Five minutes to spare.”
I rolled my shoulders, and gave in to that flicker of excitement. “Let’s do it, then.”
Rhoan grinned, then flicked another glance at the mirror and swung into a side street, pressing his foot hard on the accelerator. The tires squealed as they slipped then caught, and the car shot forward. Another look at the mirror, another left, and then he was stopping. I jumped out of the car and ran into the shadows of the nearest building, hunkering down in the doorway so I was less likely to be seen. Rhoan moved off, but slower this time.
Within a minute, the white Toyota slid around the corner and accelerated. I waited until they’d almost passed, then slipped my laser from its holster and shot out both the nearside tires. Then I was up and running.
The car skidded to an awkward stop, inches away from a blue Ford parked along the curb. Up ahead, Rhoan had stopped at an angle, letting the car block the road as he scrambled out.
Two men tumbled from the Toyota. The driver headed toward Rhoan, while the passenger came running in my direction. I stepped in his path, and a grin split his strong, hairy features. “You’re not going to try and stop me, are you, little girl?”
“You’re right,” I said, moving in so fast he barely had time to blink before my fist was buried into his gut. “I’m not going to try and stop you.”
The air left his lungs in a whoosh, and he collapsed to his knees with an odd sort of wheeze. I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and dragged him back toward the car. A quick look ahead showed that Rhoan had the driver under control.
I threw hairy guy into the side of the car. He hit headfirst and cursed. I ignored it, patted him down for weapons, then caught his right arm and pressed it up and back against his spine. His curse became a hiss of pain.
“Ease up, girly. I ain’t done nothin’ to you.”
“You’re following a guardian. While that may not be illegal, it’s certainly considered an insane practice by most. Especially us guardians.”
“You ain’t no guardian.”
I pushed just a little bit harder on his arm, then with my free hand, got out my badge and shoved it in his face. “Proof enough, buddy-boy?” He nodded, and I put the badge away. “Why were you following us?” 
“I was paid to, wasn’t I?”
“By whom?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t talk to the contact, did I?”
“Did your friend the driver talk to him?”
“Yes.”
I reached sideways and opened the passenger door. “You will get inside the car and you will not move out of it or I will cut your flaming legs off. Understand?”
He nodded. I shoved him inside, slammed the door shut, and walked across to Rhoan. He had the driver spread-eagled against the rear of our car, and was leaning against him, one elbow planted in his back to hold him in place as he went through the driver’s wallet.
“You get the name of his employer?” I asked, stopping at an angle so I could keep an eye on hairy guy.
“Not yet. He’s demanding we arrest him, and that he gets his phone call before he says anything.”
I raised my eyebrows. “You did tell him we’re guardians, not cops, didn’t you?”
“Nope. Why bother with niceties when it comes to scum?” He closed the wallet and shoved it back into the man’s pocket. “You want to do the honors?”
“Honors?” the driver squawked. “What fucking honors? What the hell are you talking about?”
We both ignored him. “You know it’s a pain in the ass using telepathy on crap like this—why don’t you just beat it out of him?”
“Beat? You can’t beat me—it’s against the fucking—”
Rhoan dug his elbow in a little harder and the rest of the driver’s sentence was lost to his yelp.
“He’s human.”
“So fucking what? Just beat him up, get the name, and let’s get on with it.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll talk.”
Rhoan gave me a grin, then wrapped his arm around the driver’s neck and drew him upright. “So talk,” he said, voice soft. Deadly.
“It was a man called Gautier. Met him last night. Said he needed us to follow you and report back where you went.”
Gautier. Was there no getting rid of that prick? “Was that all he asked you to do?”
“Yes,” the driver wheezed.
Rhoan leaned close to the guy’s greasy head, and said, “You’re lying.”
“Trackers. We set them on your car, in case we lost you.”
Rhoan tightened his grip until the man’s breathing became a desperate gasp. “That all?”
“Yes. For God’s sake, yes.”
“Where did you have to report back?”
“He gave us a phone number.”
“Then give it to me.”
The man wheezed out some numbers. Rhoan spun the man around and pushed him toward the car. “You warn your employer about this little episode and I’ll make sure I pay you a little visit.”
The man caught his balance, then wheezed, “I won’t, I won’t.”
“Good,” Rhoan said, voice all mild. “Don’t let me see you following me again, or it won’t be just your tires my partner shoots out.”
The man ran for his car, threw it into reverse, and left—flat tires and all. I shook my head at my brother. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?”
“And you didn’t?”
I grinned. “All I need now is another coffee, and my morning will be complete.”
Some part of me was scared by that admission. Scared by the fact I did enjoy roughhousing that scumbag. Scared by the fact it would be so easy to let instinct take over completely, to become the one thing I never wanted to be—a hunter as skilled and deadly as my brother.The possibility was there. It was definitely there.