Again that frisson of fear rolled through me, but I swiped it away. These men—as shifters who’d attacked another shifter with the clear intent to harm—would be lucky to last through the night once I called Uncle Rhoan. The Directorate had gotten harsher over recent years, and while death had once applied only to nonhumans who’d murdered, the increase in street violence had meant those boundaries had been eased in recent years. The trouble was, it hadn’t done a whole lot to reduce the aggressive tendencies of those on the streets.

“Thanks, but I need to question him.”

“Then permit me to at least break his leg. That way, you’ll be in no danger from him.” He hesitated, his gaze briefly sweeping me before rising to meet mine again. Amusement, and something else—something heated and primal—began to burn bright in those jade depths. The warmth of it flooded my senses, and the embers of need and desire stirred. He added, in tones that suddenly seemed a whole lot lower and sexier, “You can obviously handle yourself, but I’d hate to see you with bruises—or worse—when we go on our date.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I can’t remember hearing—or accepting—such an invitation.”

His smile grew, and mirth crinkled the corners of his bright eyes. It marred the perfection of his face, yet made him all the more appealing. “But is it not the human way to thank your savior by sharing a drink or a meal?”

“Ah, but I’m not human.”

“Neither am I,” he conceded, his warm and seductive tones nothing like I’d expected of an Aedh. At least, not a full Aedh. All the stories Uncle Quinn had told me about the full bloods had made me believe them to be cold and distant beings, but this man seemed about as far from an iceberg as you could get. “Yet it is a custom that—in this case—I’m eager to embrace.”

Something in the way he said that suggested he wanted to embrace a whole lot more than just a custom.

“You may have saved my life, but I can hardly go out with someone when I don’t even know his name.”

The shifter moaned and his fingers twitched. I stepped out of range and the stranger stepped forward, but I raised a hand to stop him. I could do my own dirty work.

Even if the thought made my stomach churn.

I raised a booted foot and—after taking a deep breath and thinking of Ilianna and what they might have done to her—stomped down on the bottom half of his leg. The force of the blow reverberated up my leg, but the snap of bone was clearly audible. The shifter twitched, but didn’t react any more than that. Hopefully, the break would keep him in the depths of unconsciousness a little bit longer.

I stepped back and met the stranger’s gaze again. Desire was sharper in his eyes, as was something else—something I couldn’t quite define. But seeing it made my nerves quiver, and I couldn’t decide whether it was a good sensation or bad.

“My name, lovely lady, is Lucian Dupont.” His gaze burned into mine, scorching every part of me. “And yours?”

“Risa.” My breath was caught somewhere deep in my throat and the word came out low and breathy. “Risa Jones.”

“Then, Risa Jones, there is a lovely little restaurant called Wintergreen in Carlton. Shall we say tonight, at eight?”

I licked my suddenly dry lips and managed to nod.

He smiled and gave me another bow. It was an oddly old-fashioned movement, and yet extremely sexy. “Until tonight then.”

He walked away. I watched him, enjoying the economical and yet oddly powerful way he moved. It was only once he’d disappeared around the corner that I remembered how to breathe properly again.

And suddenly I had to wonder how much of what I’d felt was real, and how much of it might have been enhanced by the Aedh. They might be cold and clinical beings, but I’d gotten the impression from Mom that they could—when they wanted—be as sexually alluring as any wolf.

Although from what I understood, that only happened when the Aedh was nearing the end of his long life span and needed to breed. Lucian certainly hadn’t looked ready to die. Far from it.

But I hadn’t felt anything untoward caressing my senses, and surely I would have. I had felt the sexual energy—the need and desire burning off him—but that had in no way been designed to seduce or coerce.

Besides, he’d invited me to dinner, not a roll in the sack. Although part of me was totally hoping a roll in the sack ensued at some point in the near future.

And maybe satisfying my more basic need—as Ilianna would call it—would stop my stupid hormones from hungering after the reaper the next time he showed up.

The thought of him had me looking over my shoulder, but there was nothing and no one there. Or at least visible.

Part of me wished he was.

I dug my phone out of the pocket and called Uncle Rhoan.

“Risa,” he said, his gray eyes—the image of Riley’s—showing surprise even on the phone’s small vid-screen. “What’s happened?”

“Two shifters attacked me. One’s dead and the other is—”

“I’ve got your location,” he cut in instantly. “I’m not far away. Hang tough.”

He disconnected and I had to smile. I might never have had a dad, but I had Rhoan and Liander and Quinn, and I really didn’t need any other fathers in my life. Especially not one who was planning to wreck the very fabric of life here on earth.

The shifter groaned again. I put my phone away then walked across to pick up the brick I’d dropped. As my fingers wrapped around it, the shifter jerked and tried to get to his feet. Either he hadn’t felt the break or he was still partially out of it, but the sudden movement ripped a scream from his throat.

Almost instantly his flesh began to ripple and pulsate as his body fought to heal his bones. I raised the brick and said, “Stop that now, or I’ll break more than your f**king leg.”

He stopped the shift and glared up at me balefully, anger mingling with pain in his eyes. Then he lunged sideways at me, his hand grasping for my ankle. I leapt backward, a gasp surging up my throat but not quite reaching my lips, then brought the brick down, smashing it against his hand, trapping it between the brick and the concrete. He howled a second time.

“Move again, and I’ll break every bone in your hand.”

Sweat trickled down his twisted face. “What do you want?”

“I want your name and the name of your boss. I want to know why you’re after me.” They might have said my father was the reason I was being hunted, but it never hurt to be certain.

“My name is Graham Turner.” He hesitated, and something flickered in his eyes. “I can’t tell you who my boss is.”

I pressed all my weight down onto the brick, and he screamed again. I eased up, then said, “I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true,” he all but spat. Pain and fury were etched deep into his expression. Maybe it was just as well the Directorate had a kill policy, because otherwise my life would not have been worth much. “Marcus is the only one who knows how to contact him. I’ve only ever heard his voice over the phone.”

“Marcus is the human who was with you at the parking lot?”

“Yes.”

“His last name?”

He hesitated, and I leaned a little on the brick. “For f**k’s sake,” he said, licking the sweat from his lips. “It’s Handberry. Marcus Handberry.”

I eased up again. “And where might I find this Marcus Handberry?”

“He’s at the club most nights after eleven.”

“What club?”

“The Phoenix. He owns it. Has an office out the back. Jesus, woman, let me go. I’ve given you everything you want.”

“You haven’t told me why you were assigned to me in the first place.”

“Marc had to get some information out of you, that’s all.”

“What sort of information?”

“About your father. I don’t know any more than that—honest.”

I didn’t believe him. Or maybe I didn’t want to believe him. “And then you intended to kill me afterward.”

“No—”

I didn’t let him finish the lie, just rammed the brick down a little harder. The part of me that wasn’t comfortable with violence didn’t seem to be making an appearance right now.

“Okay, okay, yes,” he yelled. “We were to determine your father’s whereabouts, then get rid of you. I don’t know why and I don’t really care. It was just part of the job.”

How come everyone seemed to be aware of what he was doing but me? And if they were so aware of his actions, why the hell where they even after me? Surely they’d know he hadn’t contacted me.

“Why go after Ilianna?”

The dog shifter stared at me with wild eyes. “Who?”

“Ilianna. The mare.”

“Oh, she was just bait. To get you, like.”

Bait they were going to shoot. Bait they were going to kill. Bastards, I thought, and resisted the urge to crush his hand once again.

“How did you know she’d be here, at this time?”

He snorted. “How do you think? Decent scanners are a dime a dozen these days.”

Great. They were monitoring our phone calls. Which meant that until we found the person behind all this, we were going to have to be very careful about what plans we made over the phone.

Footsteps echoed behind us and I glanced around sharply. Uncle Rhoan was running toward me, his red hair glowing like a fire in the wan afternoon light. When our gazes met, he slowed, obviously realizing I was in little danger.

He looked from me to the shifter then back again to me, and a slow grin stretched his lips. “It appears we’ve trained you well.”

I nodded and rose. “Have you talked to Riley yet?”

He nodded. “I was on the way to talk to the owners of the black Toyota when I got your call.” He nudged the shifter with his foot, his expression hard and cold. What Aunt Riley called his guardian face. Seeing it for the first time had chills running down my spine. “I’ll take care of these two. You get yourself home.”

I hesitated, but I knew that tone well enough to realize there was no arguing with him. “You’ll let me know if you get anything else out of him?”

He glanced at me, gray eyes hard. “Yes, but let us take care of this, Ris. This is our area of expertise, not yours. Okay?”

I nodded.

But if he thought I was about to drop it, he had another thing coming.

Chapter Five

BOTH ILIANNA AND TAO WERE WAITING FOR ME when I got home.

As the door slid open, Ilianna collapsed into my arms and hugged me fiercely. “Thank the earth,” she whispered. “You’re all right.”

I returned her hug briefly, then pulled away and held her at arm’s length. “Are you okay? The bullet didn’t get you, did it?”

She shook her head, her gaze searching my face then dropping, coming to rest on the scratches around my throat. “You need some ointment on those.”

She spun and strode toward her bathroom, a woman on a mission. I threw off my coat and bag and walked across the room. Tao handed me a coffee and a burger.

I took the coffee—my stomach still churned far too much to eat anything solid right now—and wrapped my fingers around the mug in an effort to warm the chill from them. A chill that came from shock more than the cold.

Tao leaned his jean-clad butt against the glass dining table and crossed his arms. Like most werewolves, he was slender in build, but he worked out daily and it showed in the way his T-shirt strained across his muscular shoulders and forearms.

“So,” he said, his warm brown eyes studying me intently. “What happened? Ilianna wasn’t exactly in a state to give proper explanations.”

“You wouldn’t have been, either, if you’d just been shot at.” She came out of the bathroom and strode toward us, a potion bottle and cloth in hand. “And don’t you be giving us any of that hero bullshit, either. You wouldn’t have hung about to help any more than I did.”

He glanced at her, a flicker of pain showing in his expressive eyes. “That happened a long time ago, Ilianna,” he said softly. “If you think I’d abandon either of you now, you are seriously mistaken.”

I touched his arm, squeezing gently. He glanced at me, the dimples in his cheeks barely showing thanks to the tightness of his smile. He knew that despite our closeness, despite the fact that the three of us would do anything for one another, Ilianna had never entirely forgiven him for what had happened to her sister.

And she never would.

Not when her sister still bore the scars of that night.

In truth, what had happened to Kandra wasn’t really Tao’s fault. He’d been little more than sixteen and besotted with the older shifter. She should have known better than to tease a kid five years younger, but even then he’d had that special something—the twinkle in his eyes, the promise of sensuality on his lips. A way of walking that was loose-limbed and yet seductive.

They’d gone to a bar and Kandra, being a mare in her prime, had flirted with a few too many men. Men who had followed them when they’d left. Tao had done his best to protect them both, but at that age his fire-starting skills had been raw. When his fire failed, he’d run.

But not very far, and not for very long.

Still, by the time he’d come back, the damage had been done. Kandra had fought them, forcing them to reach for weapons. The knife that gutted her had been silver, and they’d left it in her as they’d faced Tao’s onslaught. The silver had damaged several internal organs beyond repair.