"I'm sure he would have loved to, but you're missing the point."
"The fact that you stopped him, despite all of the psychic deadeners in this place?" I rubbed at the ache in my side and wondered if I'd cracked a rib or something. It sure as hell felt like it. Changing shape might have healed any break, but it sure didn't stop the pain or the bruising. And it had totally wrecked my clothing. As I tied the end of my T-shirt together to stop my boobs from falling out, I added, "All that means is you've just warned Gautier how strong you truly are."
Amusement briefly touched the corners of his eyes. "Yes, but that's just a side benefit."
"Then what was the whole point?" Rhoan spat. "To beat her up when she wasn't even ready?"
Jack raised an eyebrow. "How many fully trained guardians have lasted ten minutes with Gautier?"
"Not many, but that—"
"One," Jack interrupted. "You. And Riley managed what even you couldn't. She marked Gautier, made him bleed."
"Which only succeeded in pissing him off," I muttered. "From now on, I'm going to have to watch my back."
"Even he won't dare go after you for several nights, and by then it won't matter because you'll be gone." He hesitated, lowering his voice a little as he added, "The time frame for the mission has been stepped forward."
So, I was right. Something trembled through me, something that could have been excitement or fear, but more than likely was simply relief. No matter what direction my life was meant to go, it would be good to finally quit having to look over my shoulder all the time. I raised an eyebrow. "You've had a breakthrough?"
"Several."
"Riley isn't ready for this." Fury still filled Rhoan's soft tones, if not his expression.
"Will I ever be ready, at least in your opinion?" I touched a hand to his face and smiled. "We both know the answer would be no."
"You shouldn't be doing this."
"I have to do this. I may have been forced down this road, but I sure as hell intend to see it through now."
"But—"
"No," I cut in. "I won't change my mind, and I won't back down, no matter what I have to do or who I have to do. These bastards are going to pay for what they did to me."
His gaze searched mine, then he sighed and took my hand from his cheek, squeezing it lightly. "You really are a stubborn bitch."
"Much like my brother," I said dryly.
Rhoan smiled, but his gaze, when it shifted to Jack, was deadly. "If she gets hurt, or killed, I'm coming after you."
"As undoubtedly will she, if you get hurt or killed." Jack hesitated again, looking around. The only other people in the arena were the four guards down near the exit, but Jack wasn't into trusting anyone lately. Especially when we had no idea who else Gautier might be working with in the Directorate. "Report to Genoveve tomorrow at nine."
Genoveve was the lab that had been a major source of clones for several years—though it wasn't the lab that Gautier had come from. It had been purchased by Talon—one of Gautier's clone brothers, and a former mate of mine—some years ago so he could continue his cloning endeavors well away from the Government's prying eyes. We'd stopped that operation, as well as a crossbreeding operation, but we'd yet to find the main lab. That lab was still little more than a name—Libraska.
And the only person who apparently knew the location of that lab was Deshon Starr. Or rather, the shape-shifter who had taken over Starr's body and lite.
"I thought Genoveve was being sold off by the Government?"
"It is, but we're still using it in the meantime."
"Then we're back into the fray as of tomorrow?"
"Yes." Jack glanced at Rhoan. "I've already called Liander. He'll be coming in with his full kit."
Given Liander was one of the top movie effects people in the country, that could only mean we'd be donning our disguises—and moving into our cover lives—from tomorrow. "Which means I'd better make the most of my time tonight." Bruises or no bruises.
"You'd better," Jack warned. "Because from tomorrow, there's to be no contact with anyone you're currently involved with."
I raised my eyebrows. Even that hurt. My sexfest wasn't looking good at all.
"Meaning Quinn's not in on this?"
"No."
Great. It meant I'd probably get harassed even more at night when he realized something was happening he wasn't involved with.
Rhoan lightly squeezed my arm. "You want an escort up to the change rooms this time?"
I nodded. No sense in chancing fate a second time.
We headed up several floors to the change rooms, where I admired the blooming, rainbow-colored range of bruises scattering my body before stepping under the shower to wash away the sweat and blood and the foul smell of Gautier from my skin and hair and mouth.
Luckily, I'd brought some extra clothes to change into after training, because the T-shirt and sweatpants weren't in a fit condition to be worn out in public.
Rhoan dropped me off at home, and I noted with some relief that Kellen's white BMW wasn't in sight. Maybe I had time yet to get myself into some semblance of working order. I climbed the stairs, but after hours of training and then fighting Gautier, the six flights just about did me in. I opened the door with a trembling hand, and discovered fate hadn't finished throwing curveballs my way yet.
Kellen stood at my door.
So did Quinn.
And neither man looked particularly happy to see the other.
Chapter Two
I blew out a breath and wished, just this once, that I could catch a break. I wanted to spend the night being wined, dined, pampered, and ravished, and not particularly in that order.
What I didn't need was having to deal with the annoyed sensibilities of two alpha males who hated each other.
Though as far as alphas went, you couldn't ask for two finer specimens. Neither man was particularly tall—Kellen was probably little more than an inch above my five seven, and Quinn maybe an inch more above that. Kellen was a lean and muscular brown wolf, though he was more chocolate in tone than the muddy coloring so often seen in the brown packs. His face was sharpish but handsome, his eyes the most delicious shade of gold-flecked green. And dressed as he was in the black tux, he looked absolutely scrumptious.
Quinn was just as athletic looking, but there was more of a sense of grace and controlled power in the way he moved. His dark blue sweater emphasized the width of his shoulders, while the tight fit of his jeans drew the eye to the long, strong length of his legs. His shoulder-length hair was night dark, and so thick, so lush, that my fingertips suddenly itched with the need to run through it. His skin was not the white of most vampires, but a soft, warm gold, simply because he could actually stand quite a lot of sunlight. His eyes were vast wells of darkness the unwary could easily get lost in, and he had the sort of looks even angels would be envious of. Not that he was in any way effeminate—just beautiful. Truly beautiful.
The stairwell door slammed shut against my back, knocking me into the half-lit hallway. It said a lot about the tension between the two of them that neither actually noticed my arrival until then.
"What the hell is he doing here?" they said in unison, each one pointing at the other.
I ignored the question and walked to the door. "Play nice, boys. I'm just not in the mood for petty fighting tonight."
"Then you should not have invited him." Kellen's voice was cold.
"I didn't. He just sort of pops in unannounced whenever he feels like it." I twisted the key in the lock and opened the door. "How do you two actually know each other?"