"I remember. Now mind your own business and get moving."
He grinned, dropped another kiss on my forehead, then added, "Liander left some wigs and colored lenses if you want to play around with your look. Just promise me you'll keep out of sight when you go into that restaurant."
I grinned. Rhoan didn't need to be psychic to know what I planned—he knew, simply because it was exactly what he'd do. "That I promise."
"Good." He kissed me a third time—three times for luck, as we always said—then pushed away from the chair and left.
Which left me with the moody Quinn. Joy, oh joy.
"We have a conversation to finish," he said, the moment we were alone.
I untucked my legs and walked across to the water dispenser. "I've said all I have to say."
"Then tell me why you fucked Kellen last night. Was it just to get back at me?"
I snorted softly as I filled the little plastic cup. "Quinn, I like you and all, but you seriously need to get over this jealousy thing. Especially when you have no right to it."
"So is that a yes?"
"It's a no. I fucked him because I wanted to, because he was hot, and because I wanted him to answer some questions afterward. Which he did." I took a sip of water and turned around, meeting his stormy gaze. "Kellen was well aware that I came to the event with you, mind. I believe he took great delight in the fact that he took me from you."
"And you intend to see him again?"
"Lots of times. And if you don't like that fact, walk away now. It's not worth the angst to either of us."
Quinn didn't react. "A vampire never walks away from what he considers his." His midnight gaze burned into mine, touching something deep inside, making it quiver, dance. But whether it was joy or fear, I couldn't entirely tell. "I cannot, and will not, walk away. Nor will I let you. And if that means having to put up with you fucking a hundred different wolves, then so be it. What lies between us is worth exploring, and you will hold to the bargain we made."
I raised my eyebrows. "That almost sounded like a threat."
"Take it any damn way you please."
"Threat then. So my next question has to be, or what?"
He was still giving me his vampire look, but underneath it, I had a sense of turmoil. Frustration. "You don't want to know."
"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know."
He hesitated. "I have the power to force you to do certain things."
I stared at him, not sure I'd heard him right. Not wanting to believe I'd heard him right. "What?"
His gaze was uncompromising. "We shared blood. That gives me the power to enforce certain actions on you."
"Another thing you forgot to mention when the blood sharing happened." My voice was flat, calm, totally belying the anger that burned deep.
"You were mad with moon fever at the time. Do you really think you would have refused my blood even if I'd taken the time to explain the consequences?"
"No, but you could have warned me afterward." Forewarned is forearmed. Though in this case, I very much suspected being forearmed wouldn't matter a damn.
"Have I yet tried to curtail any of your actions?"
I gave a harsh laugh. "No. Doesn't mean you won't in the future though."
"I won't."
"And would I even know if you did?" He didn't answer and I shook my head. "You know what you've done, don't you? With that one little threat, you've put yourself into an entirely different category in my eyes."
He frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, you've just leapt into the basket that contains the men who are using me for their own ends."
"Dammit, Riley, you know—"
"What I know," I cut in harshly, "is that of the three men I'm currently dancing with, Kade is the only one who has shown me any sort of companionship and caring outside the realms of sex. Do you want to know what he did for me today? He took me to a mare's place, ran me a bath, washed my hair, then he tucked me into bed, and left me alone. He looked after me, pampered me, because he damn well knew I needed it. What have you done, except reluctantly accept the sex and blood you desperately needed? Oh, and make demands, or raid my mind?"
He raised an eyebrow. "So what is it you're telling me? That I need to pamper you, romance you, to win your heart?"
"It would certainly be a damn better place to start than calling me a whore, or using threats." I blew out a breath. "Like the song says, 'Girls Just Want to Have Fun.'"
The somewhat disdainful look he gave me suggested he wasn't a fan of old-time pop music—or maybe he'd simply cruised through that era with earmuffs on, and had no idea what I was on about. I added, "Look, I offered the agreement, and I'll stick to it if you're going to get nasty about it. But just don't go expecting anything more serious than a good time. I won't play us one on one, Quinn. I can't afford to."
"All I'm expecting is the chance."
"Then you have it. But I'm warning you now—you try and force me into anything and that will be the end of us. I'll find a way around that order of yours, and I'll walk away. I will not be abused like that. I'm a wolf, not a whore."
"It is not abuse—"
"Then what else do you call forcing someone to do something against their will?"
"In this case, common sense."
"Force is force, regardless of the reason. Don't ever try it on me, Quinn. Not ever."
He didn't answer, and I just got the hell out of the room.
Chapter Eleven
Dusk had come and gone, and the night was cold. The wind blustered around me, its touch icy, as if it had come directly from the Antarctic. Shivering, I rubbed my arms, and wished I'd put on something warmer than a long-sleeved cotton top. At least I could be thankful I'd chosen jeans and sneakers rather than the skirt and sandals I'd originally intended. But what I wasn't thankful for was the premonition that had told me I'd need something tougher—that a skirt and sandals wasn't up to what I had to do tonight.
I didn't want another psychic talent—especially one that popped in whenever it pleased. But that same intuition said my choice in this mattered as little as my choice in other areas of my life. I was becoming something more than just a dhampire. What that something was, not even a blossoming new talent could tell. One thing was certain—I wasn't about to let Jack know. Not until I was totally sure this clairvoyance thing was a developing talent, and not some weird mutation of the fear that sat like a weight in my gut.
The restaurant came into sight across the other side of the road. I paused, gaze raking the old, Victorian-style building, searching for a glimpse of my quarry in the corner windows. Only one woman sat alone, and she was positioned at the far end of the building.
After looking around to ensure no one was near or watching, I wrapped myself in shadows and moved toward the foreshore. Streetlights cast pools of yellow across the empty pavement, and the headlights of passing cars ran across the nearby darkness, threatening to tear the shadows from my side. I stashed my clothes and shifted shape, released the veil of darkness, and in wolf form wove my way through the scrubby tea trees until I was directly opposite the window in which the lone woman sat.
She was nothing special—dark hair cut into a severe bob, a roman nose that was accentuated by a gold ring, and a large, almost manly chin. Her hands, clasped in front of her on the table, also looked more male than female. The man who'd been Mrs. Hunt hadn't been the image of female perfection, either. Was that a telltale sign of shifters who could take either male or female form?
I sat on my haunches, and wondered what the time was. It had been close to eight when I'd parked the car, and it had probably taken me five minutes or so to walk here. But if the woman at that table was worried by Roberta Whitby's lateness, it wasn't showing yet.