“Why would you be?” Tough to sweet-talk a male with the disposition of a badger. Why couldn’t McAlister have sent Christian after the sexy dhampir? He would’ve liked the opportunity to sweet (or dirty) talk her into compliance. Still, he wasn’t throwing in the towel yet. “I’m just saying. The Sortiari is after you; the vampires are after you. Why not knock one enemy off your list?”
“So now I’m the Sortiari’s enemy?”
Fuck my life. How did one reason with a mindless beast hell-bent on violence? “Don’t be thick, Gregor. You’re an asset. I’d be willing to bet McAlister will turn a blind eye to your extracurricular interests as long as he gets you back.”
Gregor snorted, his lip turned in a sneer. “And what’s in it for you if I come crawling back?”
Another debt forgiven, as usual. “Money.” No use lying; the berserker would smell it on him.
“Is that all?” Gregor did nothing to hide the disgust in his voice, but what did Christian care? There were worse sins than selling one’s services for a few bucks. “So, you sell your skills to the Sortiari. Why not sell them to me?”
Gregor’s grip eased up and Christian eyed him warily. He never said no to money, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted any part of the vendetta that had supposedly caused Gregor to break faith with McAlister. “What would you need me for?” Christian was a damned good tracker, but there wasn’t anything he could offer Gregor that the bersker couldn’t do himself. The bastard definitely had one up on him in the strength department.
“A diversion. Maybe. I’ll let you know.” Gregor pushed away from Christian and turned to leave.
“What about McAlister?” No way was Christian going to let the berserker slip through his fingers. It would be his ass otherwise.
“I’ll pay him a visit,” Gregor replied. “On my terms. Don’t worry, wolf. You’ll get your paycheck.”
Thank. Fuck. With the tanked USC game, he’d need the cash. His debts were starting to pile up and he wasn’t interested in going on the run. Not again.
The black faded from Gregor’s eyes and the aura of violence that enveloped him mellowed. He flashed Christian a cocky grin before taking off in a smudge of dark shadow. Fast. Strong. Deadly with a temper that ran south of hot all the fucking time. Why would Gregor possibly need a diversion?
Did it really fucking matter as long as Christian got paid?
* * *
With the werewolf gone, Jenner finally felt as though he could relax. Or relax as much as his desires would allow. It wasn’t unusual to encounter a rogue every now and then, but this one kept popping up wherever he—or Siobhan—was. And Jenner didn’t believe in coincidence.
“Jenner,” a smooth female voice purred from behind him. “I was hoping I’d see you out tonight.”
A smile grew on his face and he caressed the point of one sharp fang with his tongue as he turned to face Isla. The female looked good enough to eat in a flimsy white tank that gaped at the sides, revealing the lacy turquoise bra beneath and a skirt so short it was almost criminal. He’d be willing to bet she was going commando tonight. He could set her on top of his cock and go to town right here and now if he wanted.
And Jenner was sorely tempted.
The dhampir gave him a flirty smile, revealing the petite points of her fangs. His cock twitched at the sight. He hoped that she was hungry tonight. She swayed on her feet as she leaned in toward him, and her pupils were blown. It was a little early in the night for her to be so far gone. Drugs and alcohol had little effect on Jenner since he’d been turned. The only downside to his transformation. Now he found his highs by glutting himself on blood and burying himself between some female’s thighs. Just as fun, though the downside was waking up the next morning with a clear head and even clearer memories.
Addicted to blood and pussy and willing to do or say anything to get it. Gods, he was as pathetic as any junkie.
The scent of Isla’s arousal was almost too delicious to resist. But the female wasn’t in any state to make a logical decision, let alone get her ass back to the coven. She’d become one of Jenner’s frequent bedmates, but even so, he wouldn’t take advantage of any female too fucking high to remember what had happened between them. She was Siobhan’s responsibility and it made his gut churn with anger to think that the female was too fucking obsessed with Ronan’s whereabouts to give a single shit about those under her care.
Who are you to condemn someone for their obsessions, asshole?
His own had mastered him from the moment Mikhail had turned him. “Are you alone tonight, Isla?”