Keri Arthur - Dangerous Games

"And you should not keep secrets from me if you want to be a serious part of my life." I fished my keys out of my purse. "So, answer the question. Did you have sex with the woman you were following tonight?"

His smile held an edge of bitterness I didn't understand. "No. I did not."

"Why not?"

"Because that would be extremely wrong, and because her brand of sex is not something I have ever desired."

"Why would it be wrong? And have you had sex with her in the past? Or at least watched her have sex?"

"No, and no." He plucked the keys from my hand and guided me around to the passenger side of the car. "And it would be wrong because she is something I abhor."

"Then how do you know about her brand of sex?"

"I have a good imagination." He slammed the door shut, walked around to the driver's side, and climbed in.

Once he'd started the car, he added, "She owns a sex club."

"As in, werewolf type club?"

"No. A punishment center."

That raised my eyebrows. "Meaning she charges people for the privilege of being spanked?"

"It's not spanking. That's far too vanilla for this club. It's all about torment, humiliation, and suffering. About the despair of knowing there is nowhere to go and nothing you can do."

"And people get off on feeling something like that?"

"Some do."

"I guess it takes all kinds." And while it might not be my kind of fun, I wasn't about to look down on those who liked the darker stuff. Hell, I knew what that felt like. I crossed my arms and studied the road ahead. "So why were you following the whip wielder?"

He glanced at me. "Why were you fucking the human?"

"Quinn, just give with the information for a change."

A smile twitched his lips again. "I'm looking for the person who raised and controls the demons. Given such types are usually drawn to the darker emotions, my best bet is to follow the woman who runs one of three clubs catering to dark needs in Melbourne and see who she interacts with."

He was lying. Or rather, not telling the entire truth. I'm not sure why I was so positive—not sure if it was intuition or merely past experience—but whatever the reason, I was sure there was more behind his reasons for following this woman than what he was admitting.

"Might not your demon master be drawn to one of the other two, though?"

"Perhaps. But my target's club is the biggest, and therefore would have the stronger pull to those who relish such things."

I remembered the card I found in Jin's drawer "Don't suppose this club is called The Hellion Club?"

"Yes." He glanced at me again, expression concerned. "How do you know of it?"

"Found a business card in Jin's drawers."

"If you were going through his drawers, then he is a target rather than just a good time."

"Weil, he was originally a good time, until I saw he was wearing a ring similar to one found at a crime scene." I paused. "Have you been able to access the personnel files of the Hellion Club?"

"I have people working on it. Again, why?"

"Because the business card I found had Jin's name on it."

He looked at me briefly, expression unreadable. "Then this Jin likes his sex rough?"

"A little. Not to the extent that the club apparently caters to, though."

"Even so, I was under the impression you didn't like it rough."

"I don't. Jin controlled himself." I looked at him sideways. "And it's not as if anyone else is bothering to cater to my needs in any way at the moment."

"Sex isn't everything, Riley."

"It is to a werewolf when the moon is rising." I shook my head. "You're never going to get it, are you?"

"From your expression, I'm guessing probably not."

He had that right. I glanced around as he turned left into an unfamiliar street, and realized we were heading away from my apartment rather than toward it. "Where the hell is this restaurant you're taking me to? I need to eat, and I need to sleep." Not to mention report to Jack.

"You wanted breakfast. I thought I'd cook it for you."

"You cook?"

"Twelve hundred years does tend to give one a lot of time to practice the skill."

"So where is this palace of yours located?" In all the time we'd been going out, he'd never taken me to his Melbourne home. We'd either gone back to my place, or his plane, or whatever plush hotel he'd rented for the night. But never anywhere that was personal to him. "And why take this step now?"

He shrugged. "Because I owe it to you. Because you're right in saying that I need to share more of myself if we are to become anything more than fuck-buddies."

"Wow. This has to be a first—the vampire actually admitting I was right about something."

"I can still go somewhere else, you know."

I did the wise thing and shut up.

We ended up in Warrandyte, a small but extremely trendy "arty" community situated on the outskirts of the city, right next to the Yarra River and a state park. It had the reputation of being conservation-minded and neighborly, and was not the sort of place I figured a security-conscious, privacy-seeking billionaire would want to live.

His house was another surprise. A white picket fence lined the front yard, and the small, weatherboard home looked in serious need of not only a good lick of paint, but the services of a gardener. To say the plants had overrun the garden was the understatement of the year.

"Where's the mansion?" I said, as he helped me out of the car. The luscious scent of lavender and eucalyptus spun on the air and I breathed deep. Some of the tiredness clawing at my body eased under the freshness of the air.

"The mansion is in Brighton. That's my house. This is my home." He wove his fingers through mine and led me down the steep steps. The deck's wooden flooring creaked as we walked across it and I warily looked down as he stopped to open the door. "Is this thing going to support the weight of two people?"

"It's old, not rotten." He pushed open the door. "Welcome to my world."

His world was warm and comfortable, and totally the opposite to anything I'd ever imagined him living in. The house itself was tiny, consisting of little more than two bedrooms, a kitchen, bathroom, and living room. And yet there was nothing claustrophobic about the place. Between the Baltic pine floorboards, stonework and rich paintwork, the whole house exuded a warm airiness and peace that just felt… right. And this feeling was aided and abetted by furniture that was well-worn and yet comfortable.

"Lovely," I said, wandering over to the back windows. His yard sloped down to the banks of the Yarra itself, and the view beyond was incredible. If not for the occasional glimpse of a roofline, it would have been easy to believe we were alone in the wilds.

"What would you like for breakfast?" he said from the kitchen. "Pancakes? Bacon and eggs?"

I looked over at him and smiled. "Would both be greedy?"

"Both it is." He grabbed a frying pan from under the bench and started messing about. I watched for the sheer pleasure of watching a gorgeous man cooking, then shook myself into action and said, "I've got to ring Jack. What's the phone reception like out here?"

"There's no phone in the house. If you're using your cell, you'd better go outside."

He threw me a key. I dumped my handbag onto the nearby chair, grabbed my phone, then unlocked the door. Outside, the sunlight dappled through the trees and the air was quite cool. Somehow, the tranquility of the setting more than made up for any chill.

I walked down to the far end of the balcony, then leaned on the banister and called Jack.

"Well, good to see you're back to bad habits," he said, by way of greeting.

"Boss, don't expect miracles. Especially when I've been working my ass off on behalf of the Directorate." Which was no less than the truth. My ass still smarted. I gave him a brief rundown of events, then asked, "You found out anything more about Karen Herbert yet?"