Reading Online Novel

Dangerous Games (Riley Jenson Guardian #4)(46)


Or maybe it wasn’t the scent of blood. Maybe it was just the realization of how easily—how very easily—I’d spilt her blood and ended her life.
I might tell myself that I would never be the killer Jack wanted me to be, but the truth was, that skill was already within me.
I could kill, and kill easily, when I had to. When I wanted to. When I needed to.
Bile burned my throat. I put my hand over my mouth and swallowed heavily, then forced myself to remember the lives Maisie and her cohorts had destroyed.
Because while I might hate what I had done here today, while I would probably suffer nightmares about it for weeks or months to come, the truth was, if it saved just one life, then part of me could not regret it.
As for the part that did…well, at least that proved there was still hope left. Today might have proven that the killer Jack wanted me to be already resided within, but accepting that part of my soul—becoming comfortable with it—was still a ways off yet.
And I had to be thankful for that. Had to cling to it, as fiercely as I could. It was my only hope.
Jack pushed upright with a thick groan. His face was gaunt, cheekbones prominent. A man in serious need of a good feed.
And the dark hunger gleamed in his eyes.
“Control it, boss,” I said softly. Warily.
“If I wasn’t, you’d be lunch rather than sitting there making stupid statements.”
I grinned. “Good to see your sense of humor doesn’t leave when the bloodlust rises.”
“It will if you keep blathering. Get your butt home, and get some rest, Riley. I’ll finish off matters here.”
My gaze slid to the body on the floor—to the dark pool of blood beginning to thicken near her body.
Knew it wouldn’t go to waste.
I shuddered, and got the hell out of there.
Four hours’ sleep was never going to be enough, so when the alarm went off at six it was damn lucky it wasn’t flung across the room. But the natural irritability that came with lack of sleep increased tenfold when I realized I wasn’t alone in my bedroom.
And the warm sandalwood scent told me who it was.
I rolled onto my side. Quinn sat near the window, surrounded in a halo of fading sunshine, a dark silhouette of male perfection. Mother nature at her perverse best—for while the bod may be beautiful, the nature of the man left a hell of a lot to be desired.
Though I guess he’d probably say the same about me. And would probably be right.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to thank you,” he said, voice soft and oh so sexy.
“For what?” I flung off the sheet and got out of bed. Quinn’s gaze slid across my skin like liquid heat, and my hormones reacted accordingly.
“For doing what I could not. Capturing and containing Caelfind.”
I picked up a T-shirt from the floor, gave it a sniff to check its freshness, then pulled it on. “We would have all saved time and effort if you’d been honest with us from the start.”
“You don’t understand—”
“No, I don’t,” I said, as I stomped out to get coffee. It wouldn’t help to put out the low-burning fire caused by both Quinn’s presence and my own nature, but it sure couldn’t hurt my grouchy mood. “There was nothing stopping you from telling me that night the priest made his appearance. Only your own ornery need to do everything your own way.”
“There’s the pot calling the kettle black,” he muttered.
I shot him an annoyed look. Even though he was no longer surrounded by the blinding halo of sunlight, he still looked little more than a shadow because he was dressed from head to foot in black.Even his dark eyes were shaded. Wary.
Some perverse part deep inside was mighty pleased about that. The other part, the part heated by the growing nearness of the full moon, just wanted to grab him and shag him senseless.
Because right now, the wolf within didn’t really care about hurt or anger or anything else. Not when the moon fever was surging through my bloodstream. But once the full moon had come and gone, she would care. She would hurt, and she most certainly would regret having given in yet again.
I couldn’t do it. I had to hold firm, no matter what.
Dammit, I had a wolf who cared for me. A wolf who didn’t abuse my trust or my feelings. A wolf who longed for the same sort of future as I did.
That should be enough.
It was perverse—insane—to want more.
And yet, deep down, part of me did.
“Look,” I said, my voice holding an edge of anger that was aimed more at myself than him, “if you’re here to argue, you can just march right out of my apartment. I’m not in the mood right now.”
“I’m not. I’m just here to talk.”
“Good.” I shoved on the kettle, then reached up to grab the coffee from the shelf. Luckily for everyone, there was still some of my favorite left. “Then tell me about the priest in the lane. Who was he?”
He hesitated. “My father.”
Well, that certainly explained the odd questions. The old man had been quizzing his son’s prospective mate. “Then I know where you got your orneriness from. Your father was as helpful as you were.”
He raised a dark eyebrow. “So you actually did speak to him?”
“Yep. What is he? A spirit? A ghost? What?”
“He is a spirit. Of sorts.” He hesitated. “He is—was—the gate master. The priest responsible for ensuring the ways into this world from the spirit world remained locked.”
“All the ways?”
“Most of them. The priests are magi-sensitive. They can feel when a new gate is being formed.”
“So why didn’t you feel this one, if you were a priest?”
“Because I was only an initiate, and not fully trained.”
The kettle began to whistle. I flicked off the power and poured the water into the cup. “Is that why you became a vampire? Because you needed eternal life if you were to hang about and wait for your sister’s reappearance?”
He smiled, a warmth I felt deep inside rather than actually saw. “Yes.”
“And it was Henri who turned you.” It was a guess, but one I was fairly certain was correct. After all, he’d been friends with Henri all his undead life, and he’d used and abused all the rules, regs, and me to find his killer. 
“Yes. He looked after me through the bloodlust.”
I nodded. So many things were beginning to make sense, now. “So what, exactly, are the priests of Aedh? What are you?”
“I am—was—human.”
“Humans can’t fly. Nor can vampires who aren’t winged shifters of some kind. You may be part human, but you also admitted a while ago that you were something else.”
Surprise flickered in his dark eyes. “You saw me fly? How?”
“I didn’t see you, I sensed you. Now answer the damn question—what else are you?”
He hesitated. “The priests were not human in any true sense. They weren’t even an offshoot branch of the family, as werewolves and shapeshifters are. They were more an energy force than actual flesh.”
“Yet they had to be able to take on human form. I mean, you’re here, so they could obviously breed, and human conception has basic needs.”
He smiled, and my hormones did their usual crazy dance. “Yes.”
“So what sort of form did they take?”
“They were tall, golden, and winged. They were often depicted as angels in ancient texts.”
That raised my eyebrows. “So where are your wings?”
“Half-breeds never got the wings.”
“Just the powers?”
“Yes.”
I sipped my coffee, and considered him for a moment. “Did you banish your sister’s spirit after I pinned her?”
“No. What you have done is far better. She is trapped in flesh that no longer lives. She can never escape.”
“Flesh rots. When it does, won’t she be free?”
He smiled again, and this time there was nothing warm about it. Goose bumps ran across my skin. I had to hope that that smile was never directed my way.
“The body will be mummified, then wrapped in silver, and sealed with spells only another priest can undo. She will never escape. Can never return to hurt this world.”
Just live in an agony of unlife for the rest of eternity. It was a cruel ending, even for a spirit hell-bent on having her dark master dominate the world. Yet I couldn’t work up any sympathy. “Which just leaves us with the dragons and their master.”
“Whom I can either banish or seal in flesh, once we flush out his sacrifice site.”
“Why is flushing out his sacrifice site important?”
“Because I can use its power to send him back if that’s what we decide to do. Then I can cleanse the site to prevent him ever using it to reenter our world.”
“I thought your sister was responsible for him being here?”
“She was. But if the gate is not closed, he can come back through.”
“Not a good thing.”
“No.” He paused, then stepped forward, until there was only a hairsbreadth between us. The heat of him, scent of him, flowed over me, through me, filling my lungs, filling my heart, filling my soul. My breath caught, then quickened, and it took every ounce of willpower to remain as I was, to not step forward, into his embrace.
“Be careful in there tonight,” he said, his dark gaze on mine and filled with concern. Filled with warmth. “The god of darkness is a very powerful soul, and long practiced in seducing the unwary.”