Full Moon Rising (32 page)

"Couldn't they?"

The Irish lilt was gone, replaced by harshness. For several seconds I just stared at him. "No way. Why go to that sort of trouble when it would have been simpler to kidnap him?"

"Because this way no one went looking for him."

And in that moment, I understood the pain I'd glimpsed in his dark eyes.
He
hadn't gone looking for his friend. I reached across, placing my hand on his arm. His muscles jumped under my fingers, as if he was resisting the comfort offered. "You couldn't have known."

"But I could have
checked
."

"You would have killed yourself."

His smile was grim. "Maybe. Maybe not."

I had a feeling he wouldn't have really cared either way as long as he'd discovered the truth. "Did he tell you he was going to commit suicide?"

"No, but I've known him forever. I should have guessed what would happen."

"How could you guess that a man who had lived so many years would kill himself over a worthless werewolf?"

"Exactly," he growled, then glanced at me, his expression no softer. "Present company excluded."

Present company
not
excluded, and we both knew it. He might allow himself to want me physically, but he would never allow himself to want anything more. Because of his ex. Because of his friend's ex. Which meant no matter how hard I fought to keep exploring, in the end we would part. And that was a damn shame, because we could have been good together. More than good.

"What happened to her?"

"She's dead."

No surprise there. "She didn't tell you anything before you killed her?"

"I didn't kill her. She was dead when I found her."

"And you didn't think that a tiny bit suspicious?"

"Marnie loved fast cars and high speeds. She lost control on a wet road and slammed into a tree. There were witnesses. I thought it justice and let it go."

"Did you question the witnesses?"

His glance was dark. "No. At the time, I had no reason to believe it was anything more than an accident."

"And now that you do?"

"I cannot find the witnesses."

Surprise, surprise. "But why would they snatch someone so famous for the clones? Even if he was the best of the best, surely they must have known the emergence of the clones would eventually raise eyebrows?"

"Not really. Henri's death was widely reported and ten years is enough time to wash away the public's memory of him. Besides, the clones do not resemble him
exactly,
even if they are genetically identical."

"But if you are old friends with Director Hunter, then she would have been aware of your friendship with Henri. Why didn't she mention Gautier's resemblance to him?"

His expression darkened. "Because she was hoping Gautier would lead her to his source."

I studied him for a moment, then said, "And because she knew you'd want immediate action, therefore possibly fouling her own investigation."

"Yes. Not that her investigation has given any results so far."

That was because Gautier was a sneaky bastard. "And in the year you've been hunting these clones, you've made no inroads on where they might be coming from?"

"No. But I'm fairly certain they're not military."

"Why?"

"Because while I have no doubt the military are striving to create the ultimate soldier, I very much doubt that they would allow their creations to walk the streets and raise suspicions."

"So you think it's a private company with visions of taking over the world?"

He smiled. "Maybe just a country or two. Conglomerates these days are into power as much as money. Control the government, and you have the power."

"So bribing or blackmailing politicians has fallen out of favor?"

"Bribing and blackmailing can be traced. Clones would raise far fewer suspicions."

"Clones can be traced as easily as blackmail. The Directorate, and many other government departments, are beginning to install cell scanners and now have regular blood tests in place."

"The cell scans wouldn't pick up irregularities because there would be none. For all intents and purposes, the clone would be identical to the original. And I doubt the blood scans would pick up anything--they haven't in Gautier, have they?"

"Well, no." I frowned. "Why is that, if he is a clone?"

"I have no idea. Perhaps they wean the accelerant off and wait until the blood tests are clear before they slot in their replacements."

"But if they're cloning to grab power, why not start cloning politicians? Why a guardian?"

"Because the process is not yet perfected. While Gautier appears to be without problems, most of the other clones I have come across seem to have the sort of problems usually associated with extreme age."

"Which would surely be connected to the amount of accelerant they're using to develop these things quickly."

"Not necessarily. When cloning was first being explored back in the twentieth century--well before the growth accelerant was discovered--it was noted that cloned species seemed to have age-related problems."

"That didn't stop them."

He smiled. "It's still not stopping anyone. Science and morality are not often bedfellows."

The car crested a hill, and Melbourne lay before us, a sea of bright lights that was quickly lost to the trees again. The shrill ring of my cell phone cut through the brief silence. As I took it out of my pocket to answer it, he gave me a hard glance, and said, "I hope you were intending to turn that off before we broke into the grounds of Hoyle-Brantin."

"Nah," I bit back. "I was intending to leave it on, just so we could have the thrill of being discovered when it rang."

Though the truth was, I'd actually forgotten it was on. I pressed the receive button, expecting it to be Talon demanding to know where I was and why I wasn't panting for him.

Only it was Misha.

And he sounded no happier than Talon would have been.

Chapter 12

W
hat in hell have you done to Talon?" he said, his fury evident even down the line.

"What in hell does it matter to you?"

"He's harassing me."

That raised my eyebrows. "How can he harass you when you've gone back to your pack and neither he or I know which of the silver packs you come from?"

"I'm back because it turns out my mother was embellishing the truth. My sister had an accident but it wasn't anything major. Mother just wanted me to meet someone she considers a perfect mate."

I had a feeling he wasn't telling me the truth, though the bit about meeting a mate was typical mother behavior. I'd witnessed similar contrivances throughout my teenage years, before we'd been kicked out of our pack. At least neither Rhoan nor I had to worry about that--though part of me wished that we did.

"So what do you want me to do? You're a big boy--deal with it yourself."

"I've tried reason, but he's off the rails." Misha hesitated. "He told me you two were exclusive."

I snorted. "As you said, he's off the rails."

"So if I get rough, you have no objections?"

"Not as long as you leave me enough to kick."

Misha chuckled, and the tension I'd been hearing in his voice eased. "Sorry to get hostile on you, but the last few days have been a bitch, and Talon was the last straw."

So he had rung me to complain? Somehow, I doubted it. Misha was a nice man, yet he was also a very successful businessman, and had always handled problems quickly, often ruthlessly. If he was seriously pissed off with Talon, he'd have done something about it. That he'd called me instead suggested there was an ulterior motive behind his call.

Or was Jack's warning about Misha making me see things that weren't there? "Is that all you rang for?"

"Hell, no. I wanted to know if my car was still in one piece."

I smiled despite my reservations. "It's parked safely at the Crown Casino."

"Why is it parked there?"

"Long story. But it's in one piece."

"A miracle." He hesitated, then added, "Don't suppose you're intending to drive it home anytime soon?"

His voice had dropped several octaves, sliding across my senses like warmed chocolate. Jack might have implanted doubts about him, but that didn't stop me from wanting him.

Though given the moon heat, I'd want the devil himself if he had a nice enough bod.

"I'm on assignment at the moment, but if you can wait, I'll be there."

"I thought you said you were nothing more than a gofer?"

There was an underlying hint of steel in the warmth of his voice that made me frown. "Even gofers at the Directorate get drafted when the need arises."

"So that's what has made Talon crazy," he commented. "You're not at his beck and call."

If Talon was acting crazy, it was because I'd said no--something he was not used to hearing. I doubted he was going crazy over missing me sexually. As good as we were together, he had seven other mates to keep him satisfied.

A hand touched my thigh and warmth scooted across my flesh. My gaze jumped to Quinn's. His face was expressionless as he said, "We're here."

I glanced across the road and saw the old graveyard. "You can't park along this section of Camp Road."

"I realize that, but I don't know the area." His voice was patience itself, but something in his dark gaze hinted at annoyance. Or anger. At what, I had no idea. "You're the one that read the street directory," he added.

"There's a playground ahead on the left. You can park there."

"Who's that?" Misha said into my ear.

"No one important," I replied, and could have sworn Quinn's expression tightened a little. Which was stupid. He was getting what he wanted, and he wanted nothing more. "Look, I have to go. I'll call back."

"Riley, wait--"

I didn't wait, just hung up on him. I'd apologize later, but at present, I had work to do.

I turned off the phone, climbed out of the car, and sniffed the air. The breeze was cold and filled with the scent of rain. Overhead, dark clouds shuttered the light of the stars, and the moon was nowhere to be seen. Yet the power of it crawled under my skin, igniting the fire deep inside. The metal in the car had, to some extent, protected me, but there, out in the open, there was no escape. The fever burned and would need release soon.

But the full moon was still two nights away, and the vampire half of me was keeping the fever within control--for the time being. But while it might be contained, the wolf part still raged, and it hated the restrictions of so many clothes. If I was to remain in control, I needed to appease at least one need. I shucked off my coat and threw it back in the car. My stilettos quickly followed.

"What are you doing?" There was an edge in Quinn's voice as he walked around the back of the car.

"The moon is high and the fever burns. I need to feel the ground under my toes. The wind on my skin." Plus, I couldn't exactly creep around wearing spiked heels, which was all I had with me unless I went home.

His gaze was a caress of heat that slid down my body, lingering on the way the black cotton shirt fit across my breasts and the way the skirt clung to my hips and thighs. Not naked, but not leaving much to the imagination, either.

When his gaze rose to meet mine again, the fever that burned through my blood seemed to echo in his dark eyes. "Do you need relief?"

"Relief?" I arched an eyebrow. "That makes it sound like I've got some disease." And
that
rankled.

"You know what I mean."

"Yes, I do, and no, I don't." I hesitated, giving him my best sweet-as-pie expression--a sure sign the inner bitch was coming out. "Besides, one of the guards might be a wolf. We could celebrate the moon together."

His gaze narrowed dangerously. "The idea is to get in and get out, unobserved."

"Which you can do if I play distraction."

"We stick to the plan," he growled, and grabbed my arm, propelling me down the footpath.