Full Moon Rising by Keri Arthur Read Free Book Online

Was it something to do with the missing Eryn or something else entirely?
    How did he even know Rhoan if he normally lived in Sydney?
    Frowning, I did a search on his fiancee, but didn't come up with much more than the fact she worked for a well-known pharmaceutical company--one Quinn had apparently bought, then dismantled, several months after her disappearance.
    Interesting, to say the least. Though God only knew how it connected to Rhoan's current troubles.
    Jack came back in from his lunch break, and I got back to work. The afternoon crawled by, and though I kept glancing at the clock, no word came from Rhoan. Jack pretended to be totally oblivious to anything but whatever it was he was doing on his computer, yet I knew he was watching me. Knew he was waiting for me to say something. To ask about Rhoan and the possibility of a search and, of course, that pesky retesting.
    Which I wasn't going to do until I'd exhausted my own avenues--and I intended to check them out as soon as I went home and changed. Unless, of course, the feeling of trouble sharpened dramatically.
    At six, I signed off and got the hell out of there. Given it was Saturday, and late evening to boot, most of the usual pedestrian traffic had already gone home. There was even breathing room on the train.
    Night was setting in by the time the train pulled into my station. I climbed out and walked up the platform to the exit. But the sensation that I was no longer alone crawled over my skin. I looked over my shoulder.
    As usual, half the lights were out. Shadows lurked along the fence line and crept skeletal fingers across the platform itself. No one had gotten off the train but me, and no one or nothing hid in the shadows. Not that I could sense or see, anyway. I glanced across to the platform on the other side of the tracks. No one there, either.
    So why did my skin prickle with awareness? An awareness I
knew
meant there was a vamp nearby, hiding in the shadows somewhere.
    Why couldn't I pinpoint his location?
    And why did the night feel suddenly hostile?
    Frowning, I slung my bag over my shoulder and continued on up the platform. But as I neared the steps that led up to Sunshine Avenue, the sharp scent of musk, mint, and man teased my nostrils.
    Not the vampire, but a wolf. The male of our species tended to have a slightly sharper basic aroma than males of other species. Or maybe it just seemed that way because we females were naturally more attuned to them.
    I stopped abruptly. He stood to the left of the steps, hiding between the station's wall and the ramp for disabled folk. He was absolutely still, something that is extremely rare for us wolves. Unless asleep, we tend to fidget if we stay in one spot for too long. The energy of the beast, barely contained, was Rhoan's theory.
    "I know you're there," I said softly. "What the hell do you want?"
    The shadows parted, and the wolf stepped out into the light. He was rangy, mean-looking, and so much like Henri Gautier it could have been his brother. Only, as far as I knew, Gautier didn't have a brother.
    "Riley Jenson?" His voice was guttural, thick, and so cold a shiver traveled down my spine.
    "Who wants to know?"
    "Got a message for you."
    My heart leapt. While I didn't think scum like him would be a friend of my brother's, I wouldn't put it past Rhoan to use his like for a messenger.
    "What?"
    "Die, freak."
    His hand blurred, and I saw the gun.
    I moved, as fast as I could.
    Heard the booming report.
    Then there was pain.
    Nothing but pain.

Chapter 3

    R iley?"
    The voice was warm and familiar, but far away. Far, far, away.
    "Riley, tell me what's wrong."
    Despite the pain engulfing me, the soft question sent heat shimmering through every nerve cell. It had to be Quinn. No one else I knew caused that sort of reaction. But why the hell was he there, rather than haunting the halls of my apartment building?
    And what did he mean by what was wrong?
I'd been shot, for Christ's sake.
That much had to be obvious,