"Not a lot."
"What about building permits and the like?" Surely someone somewhere had to give approvals. Surely you couldn't build a structure that big without someone noticing.
"None registered. The land itself was bought by a Peter James some three years ago."
"Let me guess, Peter James doesn't exactly exist."
"And he paid in cash, so there's no credit trail to follow."
That raised my eyebrows. Credit cards were the norm these days—cash was something rarely seen, let alone used. "And that didn't trip any alarms?"
Jack grimaced. "No."
"I don't suppose the security cams at the land office caught Peter James's pic, did they?"
"As a matter of fact, they did. We're working on retrieving it at the moment."
"Give me a look when you do." Hell, it might just trigger a much needed memory.
We walked through the center and out the doors. Quinn waited near a pale gray government car, looking like a dark angel in his black suit and burgundy shirt. His gaze slid down my body, then rose to linger on my face and hair. He didn't say anything, but his hunger burned across my skin, leaving a prickle of perspiration in its wake. It wasn't only sexual hunger, but blood thirst. And that thirst was so thick, so strong, it left me breathless. He was pushing his limits, and it was reaching dangerous levels. I had to wonder why.
Or did he plan to slake his thirst on some of the lovely ladies at the function? Perhaps raise a little money for the charity on the side? Hell, I knew women who'd pay a fortune to experience the sexual rapture that went with a vampire's bite. After experiencing it myself, I could understand why.
Quinn opened the door and ushered me inside, his hand pressing into my spine, and sending waves of delight lapping across my skin. But despite this reaction, I couldn't help noticing that his fingers were cold. And vampires only got cold when they weren't taking enough blood.
My gaze went to his. The raw desire briefly evident in his dark eyes made my heart stutter, yet, beneath that, the hunger lurked.
"Take care, both of you," Jack said. "Remember, this is just a scouting expedition, nothing more. Don't do anything other than look."
That last point was aimed at me, and I raised an eyebrow. What in hell did he think I was going to do? Drag the general behind into the toilets and beat the crap out of him? Okay, the idea did have appeal, but even if the general was the man who was abusing me at the breeding center, there wasn't actually much point to hitting him. At least not until we knew if he was the power behind everything—and somehow, I thought not.
"Ring me from the plane on the way home," Jack continued. "And, Riley, we'll have people guarding the exits of the Rocker."
I nodded. Jack slammed the door shut and the car took off. Silence fell. I didn't see any point in breaking it. I'd said all I had to say to Quinn, and the ball now lay in his court. But his hunger continued to lap across my skin, making breathing difficult. It had to stop. He couldn't go into a function full of women emoting the way he was. It was almost as bad as a werewolf's aura—and would create a riot in an instant.
Unfortunately, there was only one way I could ease his hunger, and I had a suspicion I'd have to push him into taking blood from me. But I couldn't do anything here in the car. I didn't mind public displays, but Quinn did. Besides, I wanted the driver to concentrate on what he was doing rather than what I was doing. There tended to be less accidents that way.
Once we reached the city, we drove into the bowels of a public car park and changed cars. Quinn's car had thick dark windows that I rather suspected were bulletproof. It seemed he wasn't taking any chances, and of that, I was glad.
It didn't take us long to get to Essendon airport from there. Quinn's plane—a sleek and silvery Y-shaped craft—was on the tarmac ready to go. We climbed aboard. Beside the pilot and copilot in the cockpit, there was just me and Quinn and the sofalike seats. The perfect place for a much needed seduction. Or, at the very least, a half seduction. I wasn't going to compel him to go the whole way if he didn't want to. Even if my hormones were screaming in horror at the thought.
I waited until the plane leveled out, then unbuckled the seat belt, took off the coat, and rose.
The temperature in the small cabin leapt about ten degrees.
His gaze met mine, the dark depths wary. The hunger I'd felt before was gone, but the strain touching the corners of his eyes suggested it hadn't gone all that far. "Don't, Riley."
"Don't what?" I said, all innocence. "Talk to you about our plans for tonight?"
"We know what we have to do. There's nothing else to discuss."
"No? So you're just going to continue calling me Riley, are you?"
He hesitated, a faint gleam of amusement touching his eyes. "Barbie would be more appropriate—even though you're not blonde."
"So you approve of the boob lifts?" I asked, thrusting out my breasts for inspection.
He made a slightly gargled sound and didn't answer. Men were men, I thought with an inner grin, no matter whether they were twenty years old or well over a thousand. Show them a good set of tits, and their brain went south.
I used that moment to straddle his lap. By the time his brain had reconnected, it was far too late to stop me.
And given the evidence of what I was sitting on, part of him was more than enjoying the sudden closeness.
I threw my arms around his neck and kissed his nose. It was cold. So were his lips when I brushed a kiss across them. He didn't react to either kiss, didn't touch me in return.
"Riley, I can't take just a taste and stop." His voice was flat, and as cold as his body. And yet there was a desperation in his eyes that warmed my soul.
"Chocolate is like that," I murmured, continuing to brush kisses across his cheeks, his neck.
"What?"
I smiled and kissed his lips again. His teeth were beginning to protrude. I ran my tongue across their needle-sharp ends, letting them cut my tongue, letting the taste of blood touch his mouth.
He groaned.
"You may not want to do this, but you need to. Your hunger burns my skin, and I'm not exactly sensitive when it comes to emotions. But I'm betting there'll be empaths and sensitives at that function tonight. You go in like this, emoting hunger all over the place, and what the hell do you think will happen?"
"Nothing will happen, because it'll be under control by then."
"It won't. It can't, because you're too close to the edge." I stared into the beautiful black depths of his eyes. "Dammit, your skin is cold. Why are you pushing yourself like this? It doesn't make any sense."
"I have my reasons." His hands went to my hips, his touch almost bruising. "Move, or I'll make you move."
I gripped tight with my thighs. "Pretend I'm Barbie, fust another seductive brunette you're planning to wine, dine, and bed. Nothing serious will ever come of us, and you'll never see me after tonight. I'm just a quick and easy fuck."
"I can't do that," he said, voice tight with the tension I could see in his eyes, feel humming through his body.
"Why not?"
"Because you're not Barbie, and you'll never be just a quick and easy fuck."
I raised my eyebrows at the edge in his voice. "But that's all I was when we first met. You admitted that yourself."
"That was then."
"Nothing much has changed since then."
"Everything has changed since then."
"For God's sake, we don't even know each other beyond the realms of sex. And being great in bed doesn't mean we'll be great out of it."
"I know, I know." Frustration edged his voice. "Riley, I want you. I need you. I just don't know if I can stand being with you."
"I'm not asking you to become my full-time lover right now. I'm just asking you to take what you need."