Undying Desire Read Online Free Page A

on track. Remember why the hell he was there in the first place. Guerin jammed his palm against the club’s front door lever and stepped into the cold night.
    Five minutes, the note had said. He reached inside his coat, pulled out his phone, and glanced at the display. Right on time: 1:15 a.m. The cell vibrated in his palm, signaling an incoming call. The screen lit with a single name: Arran. Guerin shook his head. Dammit. He didn’t have time to deal with the warrior right now. Guerin slid his index across the lower half of the screen, answering the call.
    “What?” he barked into the cell.
    “What do you mean, what?” Arran growled. “You were supposed to report two hours ago.”
    “Well, excuse the fuck out of me, Daddy.” Guerin spat the words out through clenched teeth. “I’ve been a little busy.” He sucked in a calming deep breath. He knew Arran was in an ugly situation as well, keeping their secret from Kenric. Not an easy task. Silence lingered between them for a few tense moments, each man reining in the need to lash out. Guerin was about ready to chew out an “I’m sorry” when the sound of a prolonged exhale reached through the phone, and Arran broke the ice.
    “Where are you?”
    “A club called the Rose’s Thorn on the outskirts of Nuremberg. The female Markus arranged for me to meet said this was the last place she’d seen Eve.” Guerin shoved his hand in his pocket, going for the crumpled note inside. “At least the asshole has been good for something besides a fucking knife in our back.”
    “Solid lead, then?”
    “Maybe…” He tightened his grip on the thin slip of paper. “When I know more, you’ll be the first.”
    “Guerin, how long—”
    “I can’t do this right now.” He was already late. “I gotta go.” Guerin tapped end call, not bothering to wait for a reply. There wasn’t time for an explanation. He dropped the cell back inside his pocket and flipped the collar up around his neck, eliminating some of the cold bite of air against his exposed flesh. If all went well in the next few minutes, he’d have something to call home about.
    Rolling his shoulders, Guerin attempted to loosen the knot of muscles between them and headed toward the rear of the club. His boots thumped against the damp concrete, but there was no reason to mask his presence. This particular informant had sought him out, knowing Guerin wouldn’t pass up the opportunity.
    The question was: if this meeting wasn’t with Mistress Fallon, how the hell did he or she know he’d come looking for Eve?
    No one in Germany was aware of his exact reason for being in the country except for…Ana. His mind raced back to the cinnamon-haired vampire from the previous night. But if it was Ana, why the game? The female could have told him all she’d known twenty-four hours ago.
    Except for the low-level thump of the bass vibrating off the club’s walls, the rear lot appeared quiet. A lone black Mercedes sedan sat backed into the only available parking slot, its bumper sitting inches from the rear of the building. A run-down two-story dwelling filled the other side of the lot. The bottom floor seemed deserted. The few small windows facing the club from the second level were dressed with curtains and blinds, though no light shone from the inside.
    Guerin reached beneath his coat and slid the dagger free from between the waistband of his jeans and lower back. He palmed the hilt of the blade, enjoying the warm, smooth feel of the metal against his skin. He stepped into the spill of white light illuminating the rear half of the Rose’s Thorn’s back lot—and stopped. The fine hairs at his nape lifted, sending a tingle down the center of his back. He straightened his spine, and his fingers tightened around his weapon. But his boots remained firmly planted. Guerin pulled in a lungful of air through his nostrils.
    Human.
    Interesting.
    “I’m here,” Guerin announced. “So the next move’s yours.” He rotated on