standing.
I scrambled upright, and lunged toward him. I wasn't fast enough by half. He scooted well out of reach and shook his head. 'You're not taking this seriously, Riley.'
'Yes, I am.' Just not as seriously as he'd like me to. Not this evening, anyway.
'Are you that desperate to fight Gautier?'
'No, but I am that desperate to see Kellen.' Sexual frustration wasn't a good thing for anyone, but it was particularly bad for a werewolf. Sex was an ingrained part of our culture—we needed it as much as a vampire needed blood. And this goddamn training had been taking up so much of my free time that I hadn't even been able to get down to the Blue Moon for some action.
I blew out another breath, and tried to think calm thoughts. As much as I didn't want to hurt my brother, if that was the only way out of here, then I might have to try.
But if I did succeed in beating him, then Jack might take that as a sign I was ready for the big one. And part of me feared that—feared that no matter what Jack said, my brother was right when he said that I shouldn't be doing this. That I was never going to be ready for it, no matter how much training I got.
That I'd screw it all up, and put everyone's life in danger.
Not that Rhoan had actually said that last one. But as the time drew nearer, it was in my thoughts more and more.
'It's a stupid rule, and you know it,' I said eventually. 'Fighting Gautier doesn't prove anything.'
'He is the best at what he does. Fighting him makes guardians ready for what they may face out there.'
'Difference is, I don't want to become a full-time guardian.'
'You have no choice now, Riley.'
I knew that, but that didn't mean I still couldn't rail against the prospect, even if my protests were only empty words.
I licked my lips and tried to concentrate on Rhoan. If I had to get him down on the mat to get out of here, then I would. I wanted, needed, to grab a little bit more of a normal life before the crap set in again.
Because it was coming. I could feel it.
A shadow flickered across one of the windows lining the wall to the right of Rhoan. Given it was nearly six, it was probably just a guardian getting himself ready for the evening's hunt. This arena was on sublevel five, right next to the guardian sleeping quarters. Which, amusingly, did contain coffins. Some vamps just loved living up to human expectations, even if they weren't actually necessary.
Not that any humans ever came down here. That would be like leading a lamb into the midst of a den of hungry lions. To say it would get ugly very quickly would be an understatement. Guardians might be paid to protect humans, but they sure as hell weren't above snacking on the occasional one either.
The shadow slipped past another window, and this time, Rhoan's gaze flickered in that direction. Only briefly, but that half second gave me an idea.
I twisted, spinning and lashing out with one bare foot. My heel skimmed his stomach, forcing him backward. His baton arced around, his blow barely avoiding my shin, then he followed the impetus of the movement so that he was spinning and kicking in one smooth motion. His heel whistled mere inches from my nose, and probably would have connected if I hadn't leaned back.
He nodded approvingly. 'Now, that's a little more like it.'
I grunted, shifting my stance and throwing the baton from one hand to the other. The slap of wood against flesh echoed in the silence surrounding us, and tension ran across his shoulders. I held his gaze, then caught the baton left-handed and started to hit out. Only to pull the blow up short and let my gaze go beyond him.
'Hi, Jack.'
Rhoan turned around, and, in that moment, I dropped and kicked his legs out from underneath him. He hit the mat with a loud splat, his surprised expression dissolving quickly into a bark of laughter.
'The oldest trick in the book, and I fell for it.'
I grinned. 'Old tricks sometimes have their uses.'
'And I guess this means you're free to go.' He held up a hand. 'Help me up.'
'I'm not that stupid, brother.'
Amusement twinkled in his silvery eyes as he climbed to his feet. 'Worth a try, I guess.'
'So I can go?'
'That was the deal.' He rose and walked across to the side of the arena to grab the towel he'd draped over the railing earlier. 'But you're back here tomorrow morning at six sharp.'
I groaned. 'That's just plain mean.'
He ran the towel across his spiky red hair, and even though I couldn't see his expression, I knew he was grinning. Sometimes my brother could be a real pain in the ass.
'Maybe next time you'll reconsider the option of cheating.'
'It's not cheating if it worked.'
Though his smile still lingered, little of that amusement reached his eyes. He was worried, truly worried, about my part in the mission we'd soon embark on. He didn't want me to do this any more than I'd wanted him to become a guardian. But as he'd said to me all those years ago, some directions in life just had to be accepted.
'You're here to learn defense and offence,' he said. 'Inane tricks won't save your life.'
'If they save it only once, then they're worth trying.'
He shook his head. 'I can see I'm not going to talk any sense into you until after the sexfest.'
'Glad you finally caught the gist of my whole conversation for the last hour.' I grinned. 'And hey, look on the bright side. Liander's going to be mighty pleased to see you at a normal hour for a change.'
He nodded, tossed the towel around his bare shoulders, and headed off whistling. Obviously, I wasn't the only one anticipating a good time tonight.
Grinning slightly, I headed down the other end of the arena, where my towel and water bottle waited. I grabbed the towel and wrapped one end around my ponytail, squeezing the sweat from my hair before wiping the back of my neck and face. I might not have been fighting to full capacity tonight, but we'd still been training for a couple of hours and not only did my skin glimmer with heat but my navy T-shirt was almost black with sweat. It was just as well I could shower here—with the way my luck had been running of late, Kellen would be waiting for me by the time I got home. And as much as most wolves preferred natural scent over synthetic, right now I was just a little too overwhelmingly natural.
I reached out to collect the water bottle, then froze as awareness surged, prickling like fire across my skin. Rhoan had left, but I was no longer alone in the arena.
My earlier intuition had been right—crap had been about to step back into my life.
And it came in the form of Gautier.
Towel still in hand, I casually turned around. He stood at the window end of the arena, a long, mean stick of man and muscle who smelled as bad as he looked.
'Still haven't managed to catch that shower, I see.' It probably wasn't the wisest comment I'd ever made, but when it came to Gautier, I couldn't seem to keep my mouth shut.
It was a trait that was going to get me in trouble—if not tonight, then sometime in the future.
He crossed his arms and smiled. There was nothing nice in that smile. Nothing sane in his flat brown eyes. 'Still jumping mouth first into situations even the insane would think twice about, I see.'
'It's a common failing of mine.' I idly began twirling the towel and wondered how long it would take security to react. And if Jack would let them react.
'So I've noticed.'
He'd be hard-pressed not to when most of my mouth-first offences of late involved him in some way. 'What are you doing here, Gautier? Haven't you got bad guys to kill?'
'I have.'
'Then why aren't you outside hunting, like the good little psycho you are?'
His sharklike smile sent a chill running up my spine, and in that moment I realized he was on the hunt.
For me…
DANGEROUS GAMES
On sale April 2007
