Keri Arthur - Dangerous Games

"When it comes to sex advice, always listen to a werewolf. We don't have many hang-ups to cloud our judgment."

"Maybe."

He studied me a moment longer, then stepped away. I beat a hasty retreat across the almost empty room. Rhoan and I were still the only official members of the daytime guardian squad. Kade was supposed to have been transferred from the military by now, but the endless rounds of paperwork were currently holding things up. Iktar, the featureless spirit lizard who'd played a part in bringing down Davern's cloning and crossbreeding empire, was currently undergoing training and wouldn't officially become a guardian for another ten months. Berna had refused Jack's "offer" and gone home. And then there was Dia and Liander, who were on the books as "consultants" rather than guardians.

I perched on the edge of my brother's desk and asked, "How's the little girl?"

"Died last night in intensive. They haven't found her parents, yet, either."

Anger swirled through me, along with a sense of guilt. We'd tried our hardest to save her, but it had all been for naught. And Gautier was still out there, ready and willing to take more innocent lives. I rubbed a hand across gritty-feeling eyes, and asked, "Has the missing person's register been consulted?"

"Yep," Rhoan said. "No dice there."

"The cops are well able to handle that situation," Jack interrupted, voice holding an impatient edge. "What about we concentrate on our own work for a change?"

I looked at him. "So, what were you saying about resources being used without permission?"

Play innocent until all facts were on the table was my motto. Hell, I had no idea what he'd been told. Knowing Sal, it wouldn't have been just the truth, but rather an embellishment that would make her look good and me bad. Why she felt this necessary I have no idea—it wasn't like I was a threat to her ambitions of bedding Jack. I liked him as a person and a boss, but as a sexual partner? Never.

He poured himself a coffee from the dispensing machine and downed it in one gulp. If he'd been doing that for the last few hours, it could go a long way to explain It is wired state.

"Why were you using Directorate sources to trace a car?" he asked.

"Because the car was tailing Quinn and myself. It's downstairs, in the parking lot, by the way. And I did leave a message about it on your phone."

"Ah," Rhoan said, "so that explains the satisfied smile on your face as you waltzed in a minute ago."

I glanced at him. "No, it doesn't."

"Why not, when you were with him?"

"Because I wasn't with him for very long."

"Then who were you with?"

"I told you this morning—Kellen. He decided a good body worshipping was in order last night, and I ended up staying at his place—a fact you would have known if you'd actually been home yourself."

"Bitch."

I wasn't entirely sure whether that comment was aimed at my the worshipping comment or the barb, but I decided to go with the former. "Hey, you've got a man more than willing to worship your bod. You're just too chicken to go see him."

"Children, please try and concentrate on the matter at hand rather than your conquests of the night before."

I tried to restrain my grin and look dutifully interested in the topic at hand. Judging by the look Jack threw my way, I wasn't very successful.

"Quinn has more than enough resources of his own to trace cars," Jack continued. "Hell, he could probably get the information quicker than we could. You can't just use the Directorate as your own personal information center."

"Why not? I've been doing it for seven years as your PA." I paused, then added, probably unwisely, "Did Sal do the background check on the owner?"

"Yeah, but there's nothing out of the ordinary."

"Has the owner been contacted about the car? Reported it stolen?"

"No. And she's not answering the phone. We'll follow it up this morning." He ran a hand across his bald head. "So tell me, what the hell were you up to last night?"

"We were being followed, as I said. We arranged a little trap in a side street to smoke them out, but when we got to the car, there was no one inside it."

"So they escaped before you got there?"

"No one escaped from the car. No door was opened. They just vanished."

He frowned. "That's not possible."

"Well, maybe it is for a human or nonhuman, but these things were apparently low-rank demons."

"Demons?" Jack raised his eyebrows. "And just what led you to this conclusion?"

"Quinn told me."

"Quinn told you they were demons ?" Rhoan's voice was edged with disbelief. "Why on earth would he do that?"

"Because he believed it to be true." I looked back to Jack. "What do you know of a mob called the Aedh?"

He frowned. "The name rings a bell, but that's about it. Why?"

"Because Quinn met with someone who claimed to be a high priest of Aedh. He sent Quinn off to uncover who was raising the demons."

Jack's frown deepened. "Quinn's not the type to be ordered around."

"Tell me about it." Hell, I'd tried ordering him about numerous times, and the damned man just wouldn't do as asked. Mind you, not doing what I asked had often led to great amounts of pleasure, so I was hardly in a position to bitch. "So, I guess my next question is, are demons really real?"

"And if they are , why are they loose in Melbourne and following Quinn?" Rhoan added.

Jack blew out a breath and began to pace the length of the room. Which wasn't a whole lot of steps, as the room was one of the Directorate's smaller conference rooms and had been designed to hold a maximum of twelve around a table. When Kade and Iktar and their desks were installed, it was going to be cozy. Not that I minded getting cozy with Kade. But Iktar—I repressed a shudder.

"Demons do exist," Jack said, "but it usually takes a mage extremely strong in the art of blood magic to conjure one. I've never heard of any mage being able to conjure two or more."

"Blood magic?" I raised an eyebrow. "You mean it's not something they made up in fiction?"

"No. Blood magic is an extremely old form of magic that uses the blood of the conjurer to boost the power of the spell. But I haven't heard of anyone doing it for years." He swung around, his craggy face deep in thought. "You know, if we do have a mage loose in the city, we need to find out why."

"Particularly with Quinn involved—"

"Quinn is more than able to take care of himself," Jack cut in. "And whether or not there is a mage loose, it is not your problem. You two need to concentrate on catching the person behind the ritual murders."

Being the multitalented person that I was, I pretty much figured I could do both. And I would, if only because I'd be damned if I'd let Quinn escape without explaining why he was obligated to go after the person raising the so-called demons. But I wisely kept quiet about my intentions—having Jack explode again wasn't something I was planning to see anytime soon.

"Why can't the two be connected? I mean, if a mage needs blood to raise these beasties, then wouldn't it make more sense to use sacrifices rather than their own blood?"

"It is more powerful for a mage to use his own blood rather than a sacrifice. It's a matter of risk ratio, from what I understand."

"The more blood used, the greater the risk, and the greater the power gifted," Rhoan commented. "Makes sense."

"It may make sense but that still doesn't mean the people being sliced open aren't some part of the mage's effort to raise demons."

"No, it doesn't, but I doubt it," Jack replied. "I've seen ritual blood magic, and these murders just don't have the same feel."

Meaning we had three kooks running loose in the city? Great. Just what Rhoan and I needed with the moon heat rising. Not that we were the Directorate's only guardians, but we were the only ones currently capable of moving around in daylight.