"Yes, it can." His gaze met mine, eyes bleak. "You've never embraced your vampire half. Never acknowledged the killer instinct. It's going to take that, and more, to get through this."
"You cannot go in there alone, and we both know Jack can't send a female vampire to do this, simply because the Directorate has no female guardians capable of moving around in the daylight."
"I don't want you doing this."
"And I didn't want you to become a guardian, but you did, because you felt it was the right thing to do. I feel the same way about this."
"Fuck, Riley, that's not fair."
I raised an eyebrow. "Why? Because it's the truth?"
He leaned forward and grabbed my hands. "If you really, really need to do this, then I can do nothing but support you." His gaze searched mine for a moment before he continued. "But if this is about Misha, about what was done to him, then I won't. Can't."
"I'm doing this for me. Because of what has been done to me." Mostly, anyway.
He sighed, and let me go. "Then at least get some training before we go in."
"If she does this, she'll be getting training. And Gautier will know about the training, because everyone there knows I want to set up a daytime unit."
"Hiding in plain sight," I murmured. "How much time have we got, do you think?"
"Plenty, because he thinks he's safe, and we can't afford to rush. We'll continue to keep track of Gautier, and set up a watch on our two female assistant directors. And we'll need to thoroughly investigate the two lieutenants, as well as set up covers for the two of you."
"Why not just take Gautier out?" Rhoan asked.
Jack glanced at him. "Because the minute we do that, Starr will know something is happening. He's better kept under close watch, and fed false information." His gaze came back to me. "Are you in, or out?"
"In," I said.
And even as I said it, I knew I'd stepped onto the road to becoming the one thing I'd sworn never to become.
A guardian, just like my brother.
Keri Arthur received a "perfect 10" from Romance Reviews Today and was nominated for Best Shapeshifter in PNR's PEARL Awards and in the Best Contemporary Paranormal category of the Romantic Times Reviewers' Choice Awards. She lives with her husband and daughter in Melbourne, Australia.
Four times the heat.
Four times the suspense.
Four times the sass.
Four months in a row.
This much excitement isn't normal—it's paranormal!
Now is your chance to fully immerse yourself in the wonderful world of
Keri Arthur
Smart, sexy, and suspenseful, the Riley Jensen novels are rapidly gaining fans worldwide. And now we are giving you the unique opportunity to read four books inside four months, as part of our exciting new publication schedule:
Full Moon Rising
January 2007
Kissing Sin
February 2007
Tempting Evil
March 2007
Dangerous Games
April 2007
Be sure not to miss any of these exciting novels—nor this series of special previews,
to give you a taste of what is still to come…
FULL MOON RISING
On sale in paperback January 2007
The night was quiet.
Almost too quiet.
Though it was after midnight, it was a Friday night, and Friday nights were usually party nights—at least for those of us who were single and not working night shift. This section of Melbourne wasn't exactly excitement city, but it did possess a nightclub that catered to both human and nonhumans. And while it wasn't a club I frequented often, I loved the music they played. Loved dancing along the street to it as I made my way home.
But tonight, there was no music. No laughter. Not even drunken revelry. The only sound on the whispering wind was the clatter of the train leaving the station and the rumble of traffic from the nearby freeway.
Of course, the club was a well-known haunt for pushers and their prey, and as such it was regularly raided—and closed—by the cops. Maybe it had been hit again.
So why was there no movement on the street? No disgruntled partygoers heading to other clubs in other areas?
And why did the wind hold the fragrance of blood?
I hitched my bag to a more comfortable position on my shoulder, then stepped from the station's half-lit platform and ran up the stairs leading to Sunshine Avenue. The lights close to the platform's exit were out and the shadows closed in the minute I stepped onto the street.
Normally, darkness didn't worry me. I am a creature of the moon and the night, after all, and well used to roaming the streets at ungodly hours. That night, though the moon rode toward fullness, its silvery light failed to pierce the thick cover of clouds. But the power of it shimmered through my veins—a heat that would only get worse in the coming nights.
Yet it wasn't the closeness of the full moon that had me jumpy. Nor was it the lack of life coming from the normally raucous club. It was something else, something I couldn't quite put a finger on. The night felt wrong, and I had no idea why.
But it was something I couldn't ignore.
I turned away from the street that led to the apartment I shared with my twin brother and headed for the nightclub. Maybe I was imagining the scent of blood, or the wrongness in the night. Maybe the club's silence had nothing to do with either sensation. But one thing was certain—I had to find out. It would keep me awake, otherwise.
Of course, curiosity not only killed cats, but it often took out inquisitive werewolves, too. Or, in my case, half weres. And my nose for trouble had caused me more grief over the years than I wanted to remember. Generally, my brother had been right by my side, either fighting with me or pulling me out of harm's way. But Rhoan wasn't home, and he couldn't be contacted. He worked as a guardian for the Directorate of Other Races—which was a government body that sat somewhere between the cops and the military. Most humans thought the Directorate was little more than a police force specializing in capture of nonhuman criminals, and in some respects, they were right. But the Directorate, both in Australia and overseas, was also a researcher of all things nonhuman, and its guardians didn't only capture, they had the power to be judge, jury, and executioner.
I also worked for the Directorate, but not as a guardian I was nowhere near ruthless enough to join their ranks as anything other than a general dogsbody—though, like most of the people who worked for the Directorate in any capacity, I had certainly been tested. I was pretty damn happy to have failed—especially given that eighty percent of a guardian's work involved assassination. I might be part wolf, but I wasn't a killer. Rhoan was the only one in our small family unit who'd inherited those particular instincts. If I had a talent I could claim, it would be as a finder of trouble.
Which is undoubtedly what I'd find by sticking my nose where it had no right to be. But would I let the thought of trouble stop me? Not a snowflake's chance in hell.
Grinning slightly, I shoved my hands into my coat pockets and quickened my pace. My four-inch heels clacked against the concrete, and the sound seemed to echo along the silent street. A dead giveaway if there were problems ahead. I stepped onto the strip of half-dead grass that separated the road from the pavement and tried not to get the heels stuck in the dirt as I continued on.
The street curved around to the left, and the rundown houses that lined either side of the road gave way to run-down factories and warehouses. Vinnie's nightclub sat about halfway along the street, and even from a distance, it was obvious the place was closed. The gaudy red-and-green flashing signs were off, and no patrons milled around the front of the building.