"So, now that they've beaten you to a pulp, I'm gathering the training is over for the next year or so?"

"I'm afraid not." I looked up at him. "As of tomorrow, I'm on a survival retreat. I won't be able to contact anyone."

Anger, and frustration, seared the depths of his beautiful green eyes. "At all?"

"I'm afraid not."

"For how long?"

I shrugged. "It depends on how well I cope." And how fast we brought down the bad guys.

His hand slid down my side and across my rump as he pulled me closer. "I've only just found you. I'm not too happy about having to let you go again."

Neither was I. But then, if turning my life upside down for several months meant actually getting my life back on track, I wasn't about to grumble. "Look at it this way—I'm going to be one frustrated wolf when I return, so you can be sure the reunion will be a good one."

He grinned. "Now that sounds a little more like it." He shifted slightly, turning onto his side. My head slipped from his chest to his arm, but it felt just as good resting there. "I'm guessing, then, that I'd better let you get some sleep."

I slid a leg over him and adjusted my position as I pressed him close. A shiver of delight ran across my skin as he sheathed himself inside. "I guess you should."

He did. But only after several more hours of loving.

Kellen left at seven. I grabbed some clothes then walked into the bathroom for a quick shower. Once dressed, I headed toward the kitchen to make myself breakfast. Only to discover Quinn sitting cross-legged and elegant in my living room.

I stopped short. He'd changed sometime during the night, because he was now wearing black on black. More than ever he looked like a dark angel—a sinfully sexy dark angel. "I really am going to have to start locking my front door."

"It wouldn't keep me out."

True. Once I'd invited him past the threshold of my home, there wasn't one damn thing I could do to stop him entering anytime he pleased, as often as he pleased.

I crossed my arms and stared at his beautiful but emotionless face.

"What do you want?"

He studied me for a moment, then said, "Would you like to have breakfast with me?"

Surprise rippled through me. Of all the questions I'd been expecting, that wasn't one of them. "Why?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You have to eat, don't you?"

"Yeah, but that's not what I mean."

He shrugged. "You told me two months ago that I needed to pamper you, romance you, to win your heart. Perhaps I've finally realized that was good advice."

"And perhaps tomorrow pigs might fly. Why are you really here, Quinn?"

He didn't react to my barb, and that was almost scary. Perhaps he really was trying to show me a different side of himself. And yet, instinct whispered all was not as it seemed, and I was never one to ignore instinct. It had saved my ass far too many times.

"I'm merely here to see you, and to have breakfast with you. Nothing more, nothing less."

"And I'm not on your menu? A quick snack on the side?"

Amusement glimmered briefly in the dark depths of his eyes. "It would be a bonus, but no." He hesitated, and the glimmer disappeared, lost to the sudden flash of annoyance. "I have attended to my blood needs, in much the same manner as you've attended to your own needs."

"I didn't ask Kellen back. He came of his own accord, bearing roses and an apology." I paused. "Have you even noticed my bruises?"

"Only a blind man could not."

"And you didn't think to comment—not even a simple 'gee, they look bad'?"

"Would they have felt any better if I had?"

They wouldn't, but I might have. "You know, for a very old vampire, you're sometimes awfully obtuse."

He shrugged. "Will you come to breakfast?"

"No." I spun on my heel and walked into the kitchen to flick on the kettle.

"Why not?"

Though I'd heard no movement, he was suddenly standing in the doorway, his arms crossed as he leaned casually against the doorframe. His presence seemed to dominate the small kitchen in a way no bigger man could have. He was all dangerous energy and devastating masculinity, wrapped in an outer layer that was urbane and sophisticated. And I was as attracted to the power underneath as much as I was the gorgeous outer wrapping.

I just didn't quite know what to do with the package as a whole. Or that I was entirely wise being 'many sort of relationship with him. Two months ago I'd discovered that, for the first time in my life, I was fertile. Currently protected against pregnancy, but fertile all the same. The doctors were certain it wouldn't last, that my vampire genes would eventually assert themselves and I would once again become the werewolf equivalent of a mule, but it was a revelation that had changed my whole perspective when it came to Quinn. Yes, I wanted him. Fiercely. But I couldn't and wouldn't risk going exclusive with him. Not only because that might mean missing the wolf who was my destined soul mate, but for the simple fact that if the drug that had made me fertile didn't actually cause any other chemistry changes within me, then this might be my one and only chance to conceive. I'd wanted a family of my own all my life—wanted that whole white picket fence and two kids ideal—and I had no intention of missing the opportunity it it came along. And if ever there was a certainty in my life, then it was this—Quinn might be able to give me the white picket fence, but he could never give me a child. Never, ever.

Of course, he knew all this, just as I knew he wanted something more than what I was willing to offer. What that something was he wouldn't say—I wasn't even sure if he knew himself.

But why would he state that he had no intention of going anywhere until we'd explored this thing between us, then basically stay away for two months? Why show up again so suddenly? It didn't make sense—and everything this vampire did, he did with a purpose in mind.

His gaze touched mine, and those luscious dark eyes were rich with awareness and hunger. Hunger that was both sex and blood driven. Despite what he'd said about sating his needs earlier, his hunger was right here, burning between us, stronger, more alluring than ever before.

And it only intensified the feeling he was here for more than what he was saying.

"Answer the question, Riley," he said, voice soft yet holding a note that suggested it was almost a demand. "Why won't you have breakfast with me?"

"Because I have to leave for work very soon."

"Why?"

"Because I'm due to start at nine, and the goddamn train takes half an hour to get there on a Saturday."

The fact that Rhoan and Liander were picking me up here at eight-thirty was something he had no need to know. Though it did mean I'd have to get him out of my apartment before then. The minute he saw Liander, he'd know the mission to infiltrate Starr's cartel was on.

And he'd want in.

I turned away from him and grabbed a mug, then picked up the jar of instant coffee and dumped several spoonfuls into the mug. My preference ran to hazelnut espresso, but this was the best we had until payday. Rhoan had gone on one of his shopping sprees again, and left us with very little in the bank. I did have some very nice sweaters to show for it, though, which I suppose was something.

"Is Gautier the cause of those bruises?" Quinn asked.

"No."

"You lie, Riley."

I didn't say anything. There was no point.

"So you have passed the final step to become a guardian?"

I looked over my shoulder at him. "I've passed one test with him. The real fight with Gautier lays ahead."

Which was nothing but the truth, but he was staring like he knew something was up, that I wasn't telling him the entire truth.

Being a dhampire with strong psychic skills generally made me immune to the caress of a vampire's mind, but when it came to this vampire, there was no such protection. Not only had we shared blood, but we'd created a link that went far deeper than mere psychic touch. It was a link not affected by distance or the presence of psychic deadeners. A link that made him able to read my surface thoughts as easily as he drank blood.