Dangerous Games

Doors loomed in the darkness. Four in total, two on the left, two on the right. I sniffed the air, trying to catch the direction of the jasmine scent. It seemed to be coming from the first door on the right, but it was hard to tell because that unknown scent almost overwhelmed everything else. And that scent was coming from the second door on the left.

It was, I thought, a little bit of desperation, a lot of death, and a mix of male and female. The death scent reminded me a little of Gautier, but even then, it wasn't quite the same.

And with the mix of scents came odd mewling sounds.

Another shiver crawled across my skin. I reached for the door handle to my right. There was no way in hell I was tempted to investigate that other room or the scent emanating from it, because it just felt wrong. I might be a werewolf, I might often tread where only fools usually dared, but I wasn't a complete idiot. Not when I was alone and without back up, anyway.

I carefully opened the door and peered inside. The room was in complete darkness, and the only sound to be heard was the soft panting of breath. Jan Tait—or whoever it actually was—was alone in the room.

I slipped inside and closed the door, then switched to infrared. And discovered what looked like a medieval torture room. There were racks with rough wooden wheels and thick ropes, chains attached to cuffs dangling from the ceiling, a huge wooden wheel straddling a deep water trough, and rough ropes attached to wall rings.

It was from one of these that a woman dangled. Her toes barely even touched the floor, meaning her shoulders and arms had to be taking the brunt of her weight.

The pain of it had to be killing her. But as my gaze slid down, I realized the shoulders weren't even half of it. She was naked, her light brown hair tied neatly into a ponytail and a cloth, knotted at the back of her head, covering her eyes. The loose ends of the cloth trailed down her back, touching flesh that was bloody and raw. In truth, it didn't actually resemble skin anymore, but freshly shredded meat. Her breath was shuddery gasps, and yet the cause wasn't fear or pain, despite the mess her back was in, but rather arousal. It stung the air, as thick and as heavy as the scent of her blood. This woman, whoever she was, was getting off on the mess they were making of her.

I shuddered at the thought, and walked forward. The carpet gave way to tiles that were icy against bare toes, and the sound of my steps whispered across the silence.

The woman shifted her feet, so that her weight rested more heavily on her arms. The moan that escaped was a sound filled with pleasure. 'More,' she whispered. 'I need it… '

I stopped behind her and studied the cuts. The welt marks evident through the raw mess indicated the whip I'd seen the man carrying earlier was more than likely the weapon used here. Which just might mean he was due to come back.

Meaning, if I was going to question this woman—or at least read her mind and grab the answers I wanted— I'd have to hurry. I lowered my shields, and slid swiftly into the woman's thoughts.

Bad mistake.

Her mind was all pain and thick arousal, and the moon heat surged to life in response. Sweat broke out across my skin, and for several seconds, it was all I could do not to spin around, go find the nearest male, and fuck him senseless.

I wrenched free of the woman's thoughts and took a deep, shuddery breath. Okay, so I'd have to get answers the old-fashioned way.

'Jan? Why are you doing this?'

'I need. I pay.'

I raised my eyebrows. So the Hunter's Club did provide more than just gym and massage services. Interesting. 'What do you pay, Jan?'

She twisted on the ropes, her wrists so raw blood dribbled down her left arm, heading for her shoulder. 'Gold pass. Top of the tree. Please. No more teasing. Finish it.'

There was a desperation in her voice that had the chills galloping, rather than merely stepping, across my flesh. She wanted what they were doing to her. Wanted it, needed it. I rubbed my arms, and said, 'I'm not here to finish it.'

She moaned and yet, oddly enough, her desire rose, sharp and tantalizing in the still air. I wrinkled my nose against the scent, not because it was horrible or anything, but because my blood was beginning to pound through my veins again, stirred to life by the seductive smell. I might not be attracted to the same sex, but the scent of desire was enough to set hormones raging when the moon heat was closing in.

'Tell me how people find out about the gold pass.'

'Hellion Club,' she gasped. 'They realized I needed more.'

Needed to be brutalized, obviously. Needed to be cut into pieces and left hung up to suffer. Like she was just another slab of meat fresh from the slaughterhouse.

Another shudder ran through me. I might be sexually adventurous, but even I had my limits, and this was way, way past anything I could ever imagine wanting. And I couldn't help feeling sorry for her—though I'm sure my sympathy would be the last thing she'd want.

She obviously enjoyed what they were doing to her, so who was I to turn up my nose at another's wants or needs? Hell, that was the very reaction I'd spent most of my life righting.

'Who from the Hellion Club recommended you come here, Ian?'

'Maisie, the owner. She saw my need. Said she understood it.'

'And why did she recommended this club? Aren't there others?'

'She said, her brother specializes.'

Her brother. Another link in the chain, or just a coincidence? As I opened my mouth to ask another question, footsteps echoed in the hall outside. I waited, barely daring to breathe, hoping those steps would keep going right on by.

They didn't.

As the door began to open, I sprinted across to the huge wheel and slid in behind the cover of the water trough.

The man who came in was the man I'd seen carrying the whip earlier. But behind him was Jin. He must have taken a shower since I'd last seen him, because he looked fresh, and no longer smelled of sweat and sex and jasmine. Or maybe it just seemed that way because the tall whip carrier's scent was all blood and sweat and musky man, and it was powerful enough to overwhelm any lesser scents.

The two of them stopped just behind the woman. Jin raised a hand and casually slapped the woman's beaten buttocks.

She moaned, as if in pain, and yet the scent of desire sharpened tenfold.

'What do you want, Jan?' Jin slapped her again, harder this time. As the woman whimpered, he breathed deep, as if sucking in the sound.

A chill went through me. He'd done the same thing when he'd broken the bones of the baby vamp who'd attacked us, too.

Maybe he was some sort of energy vampire, as Quinn had suggested. But if that were the case, why was I still reading him as human? He couldn't be both—it just wasn't possible. Once you'd stepped over the threshold of life to undeath, you read as a vamp, regardless of what you'd been in life.

'More,' Jan said, twisting agitatedly against the ropes holding her, unable to see but obviously trying to.

'I legally cannot give you more, Jan.'

'But I paid,' she panted. 'Please—'

'No.'

'Please.'

It was desperate, that sound, and it made me shiver. Because it was all too easy to imagine that sound coming out of my mouth. With the full moon rising, it was totally possible for me to get that desperate. I'd been there before, thanks to Talon and his insane determination to get me with child any damn way he could, and I knew from that experience I would do anything—take any amount of punishment—to get what the moon and my body demanded.

And if I kept fucking Jin, that just might be where I ended up. He liked pain—could possibly even feed on it— and a werewolf was capable of taking a whole lot more in the way of punishment than a mere human.

I bit my lip, and decided, right there and then, to get the hell out of this place as soon as possible. I might