Full Moon Rising (36 page)

Q
uinn's grip on my arms tightened. "What?"

"It might be nothing." At least, I hoped it was nothing. Surely fate would not be so unkind as to betray me twice.

"Tell me."

I took a deep breath and released it slowly. "I'd always thought the name was familiar, and I've just remembered why. The second of my two mates had a file on his desk that bore the name Genoveve Confectionary."

"Did you get the chance to look at it?"

"Why would I bother? It was over a year ago that I saw it, and we were in a mating rush at the time. You're lucky I even remembered it."

He released my arms and stepped back. "What is his name?"

"Misha Rollins."

"The same Misha who was on the phone to you when we pulled up at the cemetery?"

I stared at him for a second, taking in the implications of his words, a cold sensation forming in the pit of my stomach.

"There are more than a dozen Camp Roads in Melbourne, and even if he
was
behind the attack, there is no way they could have pinpointed us so quickly."

Yet I remembered Talon's words. Remembered the tracking device in my arm. And he'd said
we.
Did that mean he and Misha were partners in this madness? But if that were so, why would they set their creatures on us, then shoot them?

It didn't make any sense. None of this was making any sense.

"He had your phone number, and you left your phone on."

"But they didn't need satellite tracking--I've apparently got a tracker in my arm."

"Then we had better get it out."

"Misha's
not
behind the attack." I had to believe that. Had to. Otherwise, I might never trust my instincts again.

Quinn's expression was cold. "Why don't we go question him, then?"

"Why don't we wait for Jack and see what he has to say?"

Though his expression didn't alter, his anger whipped around me. "Fine."

He spun on his heel and walked out. I watched him go, though right then all I wanted to do was grab him and make love to him. It wasn't the moon heat. Rather a desire to hold on tight to something that was good. Something that was slipping through my fingers.

With a sigh, I flicked on the water in the shower and stepped under it when it was hot enough. After washing the blood and sweat from my skin, I studied my various wounds. My stomach was tender to the touch, and the rainbow display of colors was broken by three pale pink scars. My arms bore several more healing slashes, as did my shoulders and thigh. Though I couldn't remember changing shape during the night, I must have, because there was no other way such cuts would have healed so fast.

Once I'd dried myself, I went out to check for clothes and discovered my bag sitting at the end of the bed. Liander must have brought it down from the farm. I shoved on my skirt and a shirt, mighty thankful for the extra undies I'd thrown into my bag when I'd packed for the club days ago. Once dressed, I wandered down a wide hallway, through a shadow-filled living room, and found myself in a kitchen bigger than my entire apartment. Through the windows, lights sparkled, testimony to the fact that many houses lay on the slope below us. In the distance, glistening whitecaps pounded toward a shore I couldn't see.

Liander sat at an ornate glass table reading a newspaper, but he glanced up as I walked in. His left eye was black, and bruises littered his pale arms.

His gaze raked me, lingering on the healing wound on my thigh. It wasn't a sexual look, just a concerned one. "Feeling better?"

"Much. How about you?"

He shrugged. "I think my ego is bruised more than my body. There were only four of them, yet they got the better of me."

"Only four? Gee, you're slipping."

My voice was dry, and a smile tugged his lips. "Once I could have taken double that number."

"It's a long time since you were in the military."

"It shouldn't matter. I do keep in shape, after all."

"But not fighting fit--you've had no reason to, after all."

"True."

I walked over to the fridge to grab something to eat, but there wasn't much more than old-looking fruit. Obviously, despite what Talon had said, he really hadn't intended to stay there long. I picked out one of the better-looking peaches and slammed the door shut. "Where's Quinn?"

Liander nodded toward the French doors to my right. "Out on the patio, calling someone to get some information on Misha." He hesitated, his expression tightening. "He's using us all, you know."

"Yeah. All he's interested in is finding out what happened to his friend."

"His friend being the DNA provider for these clones?"

I nodded and bit into the peach. "I gather Rhoan filled you in on what's been happening?"

Liander's gaze met mine. "There are no secrets between us, Riley."

I remembered what he'd said to Quinn when I was in the bloodlust, and realized then he knew what we were--knew, because Rhoan had told him. It was extraordinarily pleasing to know that my brother had found someone who loved him just as he was.

Though I doubted Rhoan himself was fully appreciative of the fact.

Liander folded the newspaper and leaned back in his chair. "Rhoan also told me about Quinn's history with werewolves. Be careful with him."

I swiped a hand at the peach juice running down my chin. "First my brother, now my brother's lover." Exasperation edged my voice. "Will you both give me credit for having a little common sense?"

He smiled, but the concern in his silver eyes remained. "You're generally one of the most sensible people I know, but emotions rarely have anything to do with common sense."

"I haven't known Quinn long enough to get emotional. Right now, he's just another lover." A lover I
could
get attached to, if he ever gave me the time. But he wouldn't, so why was everyone worrying? "Were the men who came to rescue Talon human?"

He shook his head, his smile telling me he wasn't fooled by the change of topics. "Wolves."

"And their smell?"

He shrugged. "Like wolves. Men."

Not clones or lab-created creatures then. Which I supposed was a good thing--at least it suggested Talon's madness was just the common, everyday type, not the "I-will-dominate-the-world" variety.

"And Jack's been informed of events?"

"Yes." He glanced at his watch. "They should almost be here."

I raised an eyebrow. "That wise? I mean, these people keep on finding us, so it might be better if we remained in a couple of different groups." Though, if I had a tracker in my arm, maybe I was the reason they kept finding us. Talon might have inserted it, but there was no telling if anyone else had discovered the signal.

"Probably, but I'm not calling the shots. Jack is."

And Jack would do what Jack wanted. Maybe he
wanted
to bring them to us. It would certainly be one shortcut to finding out who was behind all this.

I finished the peach and tossed the pit in the nearby rubbish bin. From outside the house came the sound of an approaching car. Liander rose, then moved with deceptive casualness to the window and looked out.

"Jack and Rhoan," he said after a moment.

He went to the front door, and I looked around as Quinn came in off the patio. "Your sources able to tell you anything about Misha?"

"Not yet," he said. "They'll get back to me in an hour or so."

I crossed my arms. "Are you going to share what they find with Jack?"

"Yes," he said.

No, he meant.

I smiled grimly. "And do you intend to kill whoever has held Henri captive all these years?"

"Killing is not my style."

"Tell that to the clone in the toilet."

"He was a clone. That's different."

I wanted to ask how, but my brother chose that moment to walk in. His glance took in the two of us, and his gaze narrowed slightly.

"You okay?" he asked, pulling me into a fierce and protective hug.

"I'm fine," I replied. "Just make sure you leave enough for me to kick if you find Talon before I do."

"I'll try to remember," he said, then pulled back a little. "Did he tell you anything?"

"Not anything new. Just the same old obsession."

"The bastard definitely needs to be taught a lesson or two." He shifted to one side and wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

Jack tapped the table, bringing our attention back to him. "Our search at the second former army base revealed nothing more than cosmetic manufacturing. And our computer search for Genoveve Confectionary has yielded little for the moment. It would seem the owners are hidden behind yet another paper trail."

"We may have hit a shortcut," I said, before Quinn had the chance. "A year ago Misha had a file bearing the name Genoveve Confectionary on his desk. I think it's worth asking straight out what his involvement with them is."

Jack contemplated me for a second, green eyes narrowed but glinting with familiar amusement. He was still playing his games, still trying to reel me in, but in this case, I had no intention of sidestepping such attempts. Whoever was behind these creatures had to be stopped, and if I could play some small part in that, then I would. If only to ensure these bastards stopped coming after
me
.

"You know, that could be a very good idea," he said casually. "Especially if you arrange to meet him somewhere other than his office."

"Play bunny bait, you mean, while you search his office."

He gave me a toothy grin. "Darlin', I'm glad you're on my side."

"The only side I'm on is Rhoan's and mine."

"For now."

"For ever."

He shook his head. He wasn't going to give up his little dream, no matter what I said. And I guess he was right to persevere. After all, depending on what the drug did to my system, I might be forced to step into the guardian system whether I wanted to or not.

"That could be dangerous for Riley," Quinn said. "Especially if Misha
is
behind either the clones or the crossbreeds."

"She's not guardian," Rhoan added. "You can't ask her to do something like that because she hasn't had the training."

"All she has to do is what comes naturally to a wolf when the moon rides high."

"They've shot at her and tried to snatch her," Rhoan said. "I don't think it's wise to send her out alone."

"I won't be." Jack glanced at me. "Do you have a problem doing this?"

"No." Hell, truth be told, when darkness hit tonight and the fever burned through my blood, I wouldn't really give a damn who I danced with as long as I danced. "But there is another problem."

His gaze sharpened. "What?"

"Talon put a tracer in my arm."

"We have some trackers in the car. We'll tune them to the tracer's frequency. If something does happen, at least we can find you."

Talon could, too, but that was a good thing. My fists wanted a serious word or two with his face.

"I hope you're not going to try to make Quinn and me sit this one out," Liander said, voice steely.

"No. Your field of expertise with the military was electronics, which could come in handy when we're breaking in to the office. Quinn will be playing bodyguard to Riley, just in case Talon attempts another snatch."

Quinn didn't say anything, but it was more than obvious he wasn't happy about being left out of the business end of things. And I had to wonder if he'd actually be there when I came back out of the club.

Jack tossed me his phone. "Let's swing into action, people."

I
t was close to nine by the time we reached the Blue Moon. The night sky was filled with stars, the moon a silver luminance that sang through my veins, and every nerve ending felt as if it were being stretched taut.

Quinn stopped the car in the shadow-filled lane across the street, contemplating the blue-lit building for several seconds before looking at me. "Looks like they've got a good crowd."

His expression hadn't changed any in the last few hours, and his eyes were still obsidian stone. If we'd had some sort of relationship, I might have been tempted to think he was annoyed--even jealous--about my dancing with Misha. But given his take on werewolves and the fact he didn't want anything more from me other than a good time, that was ridiculous.

"I've got a permanent table booking the last two days before the full moon, so I'll get in okay." I swept my gaze from the small line of wolves waiting to get in to the man standing in front of the door. Jimmy. A little bit of tension slid away. At least there was someone else close by who I could trust if Quinn disappeared and I got into trouble.

Quinn twisted around and grabbed the tracker from the backseat. A soft, clear beeping filled the silence. "Have you any idea of the range of this thing?"

"No, but it would have to be two or three kilometers, at least. Talon used the tracer to find us at the Directorate, and neither his office nor his house is close by."