How to Live and Die in Crescent Rock (Crescent Rock Series)

by Bree Wolf

  Quinn couldn’t help but envy her friend. A part of her wished she could do that too.

  “Give me a call if you need me to pick you up, alright?” Quinn said, dropping them off.

  “We’ll be fine,” Julia said. “I’ll call my mom. Don’t worry about us.”

  Driving away, another dark cloud slowly took up residence over Quinn’s head. She couldn’t help but think that their friendship was at a crossroad. If Julia really wanted to forget, then Quinn would just be an unwelcome reminder of what had happened. She would be standing in the way and that thought scared her. What if she lost her friend over that?

  Chapter 21 – Highs and Lows, and In-Betweens

  As Quinn walked into the school building, she kept looking around, expecting to see Mr. Sanders to suddenly show up and attack her, a knife in hand. She couldn’t block the images from her mind. But Mr. Sanders wasn’t there. He wouldn’t ever be there again and she suddenly felt grateful to Arnaud, at last realizing what he had done for her.

  Carrying that elevation of feeling lucky to be alive with her, Quinn almost enjoyed her classes, although now and then she was distracted by everything that was going on. Arnaud and Tate as well as Julia and Luke, and Mr. Sanders too of course, often found their way into her thoughts. But she felt better than she thought she would under the circumstances. And so then and there in English class, Quinn decided that life simply was what it was and, if it wanted to be creepy – this creepy – then she wouldn’t be able to stop it and fighting it would just make things worse. So Quinn made up her mind to just go with it. Whatever life would throw at her she’d handle, somehow.

  With her new up-beat attitude, Quinn walked into the cafeteria, got her food and took up her regular seat among her cheerleaders.

  That was when the whispers started.

  The first time she heard Mr. Sanders’ name, it startled her and she flinched as though someone had struck her. Then the name was repeated again and again until finally Danielle came hurrying over to their table. With barely containable eagerness to please ringing in her voice, she said, “Have you heard? Mr. Sanders is missing.”

  “What do you mean missing?” Caroline asked.

  “I mean no one knows where he is,” Danielle elaborated. “He just didn’t show up for class yesterday and when he didn’t come today either, Principal Wood called him but he didn’t pick up.”

  “Maybe he is sick,” Tanya suggested reasonably.

  “How do you know this?” Linda asked.

  Danielle looked incredibly pleased. “I have my sources.”

  “That means she eavesdrops on people’s conversations,” Tanya informed the group, earning herself an annoyed look from Danielle. That however didn’t stop the latter from continuing her tale.

  “Anyway, his landlord checked on him too – he actually went into his apartment – and there was no sign of him, but there were signs of a struggle and so they called Sheriff Monroe.”

  Quinn felt a certain dizziness settling on her mind and she almost dug her fingernails into the table top. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself to behave normally. “Maybe he just has really questionable house-cleaning skills,” she suggested, amazed at how even her voice sounded. She was definitely getting better at handling the creepy.

  “Maybe,” Danielle said, obviously displeased with such a lame explanation. “But then they found his car down by the cemetery, deserted and again no sign of him.” She paused for dramatic effect. “Something awful must have happened to him. After all he couldn’t just have left town. Not without a car.”

  “What are you? A hobby detective now?” Tanya asked skeptically. “Were you eavesdropping again or is this all your own reasoning?”

  Danielle looked somewhat hurt. “A little bit of both.”

  Quinn had felt the blood drain from her face at the mentioning of the cemetery. It was only a stone’s throw from Almond Lake where they had left Mr. Sanders’ body. Quinn couldn’t believe that she hadn’t thought of the consequences of Mr. Sanders’ disappearance. Of course, no one else knew what had happened and no one knew what kind of a person he really had been. Once they found him, they’d be looking for a killer. Maybe they’d think whoever killed him was also responsible for Amanda’s death. And for the first time since the events of the previous night had engulfed her, Quinn thought that it might have been Mr. Sanders who had killed Amanda. Or was it possible that there were two killers at the same time loose in their usually peaceful small town?

  So after the morning high came an afternoon low and Quinn struggled to stay even a little bit focused. She left school grounds the moment her last class was over, heading straight for Arnaud’s place.

  Busting in without knocking, she found Tate, still in wolf form, curled up on the chaise in the living room. He raised his head as she stormed in but paid her no further attention. From the upper floor, footsteps could be heard heading her way. Turning around, Quinn reached the foyer just as Arnaud came down the stairs.

  “Something wrong?” he asked at seeing her pale-faced expression.

  “You could say so,” Quinn blurted out. “We are in serious trouble.”

  “Okay, calm down. Tell me what’s going on,” he said, taking her by the arm and steered her past the sitting room and into the kitchen. There, he pushed her down on a chair, putting a glass of water in front of her.

  She gulped it down, trying to calm herself. “They know that Mr. Sanders is missing.”

  “They?”

  “Everyone,” Quinn almost shrieked. “They called the sheriff. What shall we do? When they find him by the lake, they will be asking questions and … and they’ll find out that we did it.” Leisurely leaning against the kitchen counter, Arnaud looked smug. “What are you smiling about? This is serious!”

  “Well, I’ve learned not to take things too seriously. Sometimes you just gotta let the little things go. They’re not worth getting all worked up over,” he said evenly. “You should try it sometime. Less stress, it’ll be better for you.”

  “What do you mean little things?” Quinn asked, staring at him open-mouthed. “We killed someone. That’s not little things. That’s big. Huge even. Huge things. You can’t just ignore something like that.”

  Shaking her head, Quinn couldn’t believe the world she was suddenly living in. Not too long ago, her life had been normal. Boring even. And now? Now, she was worried about getting arrested for murder. How the hell had that happened?

  Calmly Arnaud sat down across from her. “First, we didn’t do anything. I did,” he clarified. “I killed Mr. Sanders. So you don’t have to worry about getting in trouble, alright?” Still staring at him, Quinn nodded. “Good. And second, I already took care of it.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Looking her over for a moment, he said, “Forget it, I won’t give you any details. You’ll be more convincing if you really don’t know. Let’s just say, once they find Mr. Sanders, they won’t be looking for a killer, alright? Feeling better now?”

  “I’m not sure if better is the right word,” Quinn said, but she exhaled deeply, feeling her body relax.

  “Alright,” Arnaud said. “Since we got that out of the way, there is something else we need to talk about.”

  There was a strange tone in his voice and Quinn’s eyes narrowed.

  “Look, at the moment it’s a bit dangerous for you out there which is why—”

  “As opposed to in here?” she cut in, uncontrollable anger suddenly flaring up in her voice.

  Arnaud’s brows knitted together. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about last night. In the laundry room.” His eyes opened at that and a corner of his mouth curled up. It unnerved her and so she hurried on. “And before that. You drank my blood, and Amanda’s too. How is that not dangerous? For us, I mean. Me. You are the one who is dangerous!” By now she was yelling. “Drinking people’s blood without … asking their permission or …!”

  He leaned forwa
rd on the table. “Says the woman who drove a stake through my heart.”

  For a moment Quinn just stared at him. She hadn’t expected him to attack her with moral accusations, and unfortunately she had to admit that he did have a point. But instead she said, “That was different.”

  “Really? How so?” he asked, again leaning back, looking completely at ease. “Was that supposed to be a practical joke or what? I gotta tell you it’s a bit difficult to take you seriously.”

  “That was … that was,” she stammered. “You really creep me out!”

  He laughed at that. “Listen, I’m really sorry about that. I promise it was not my intention.” He grinned. “Just an amusing side effect.”

  “See? You’re doing it again!” she accused. “I really don’t know if you’re just awfully mean or if there is some evil master plan behind all that.”

  “That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?” he said, shaking his head in disapproval. “Let me put it this way,” he continued, again leaning forward and meeting her eyes. “I save your life, then you come into my home, poison me and drive a stake through my heart. Then I save your life again, help you find your friend’s baby and somehow I end up the bad guy. Do you see where I’m having trouble with this?”

  Quinn glared at him but before she could say anything, he lifted a hand to stop her. “And don’t give me this crap about me being pure evil or something similarly flat because I’m a vampire. Believe me, it’s been done before and it’s getting old. I’d really appreciate a new comment. So if you got one, let’s hear it.”

  Since she didn’t have one, Quinn remained quiet.

  “I take that as a no,” he said, reading her silence correctly. His voice sounded serious but there was an amused expression on his face.

  All of a sudden her anger evaporated and Quinn smiled, unable to stop herself. “Alright, you have a point,” she admitted feebly.

  “Thank you,” Arnaud said triumphantly, leaning back.

  “But you still drank my blood,” Quinn insisted, unable to let it go. Absent-mindedly, she touched her hand to the spot on her neck where he had bitten her.

  He shrugged. “You weakened me so I thought it only fair to take from you to restore myself.” He grinned at her. “Shall we call it even?”

  Again touching her neck, Quinn asked, “How much?”

  “Not much. Less than they’d take from you if you were donating blood,” he explained. “Usually a few drops is enough, and it works the same the other way around,” he added casually.

  Suddenly uncomfortable with the direction their conversation was taking, Quinn said, “So, … eh … you got new windows installed?”

  Arnaud grinned, clearly amused. “I did, yes.”

  Honestly curious now, she asked, “So then can you or can you not? Go in the sun, I mean.”

  “Yes and no,” he said. “It’s a bit complicated.”

  Quinn leaned back, openly looking at him.

  “Alright,” Arnaud said. “It’s true, the sun is not really a friend of my kind. It raises our body temperature until we go into shock or heat delirium and eventually die. But we don’t burst into flames and burn down to a pile of ashes, if that’s what you’re thinking. We succumb slowly, painfully. I’ve seen it happen once and it is not pretty.”

  “That does sound awful,” Quinn said, nevertheless intrigued.

  “I’m glad it amuses you.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” she assured him, but he waved it away. “So,” she continued, “then how were you able to go to Amanda’s funeral? It was before noon and burning hot.”

  “That’s where it gets complicated,” Arnaud said. For a moment he remained silent, clearly searching for an easy way to explain this to her. “You see, just as much as the sun hurts us, the moon protects us.”

  “The moon?” Quinn asked frowning, her eyes darting to the sitting room where Tate was sleeping on the chaise.

  Arnaud shook his head. “It’s different with werewolves. There is no connection – at least none that I know of – but it affects both of us.”

  “Okay, how does it affect you?”

  “I’m no expert and can’t give you any scientific details,” he apologized. “But the gist is that like the rays of the sun damage our cells when they are absorbed, the rays of the moon create some kind of resistance. In some way they strengthen our cells so that they can withstand the heat better and longer. Think of it as a protective layer.”

  Quinn frowned. “Like sun screen?”

  “Overly simplified, yes,” Arnaud said, smiling. “So whenever the moon shows in the sky, it is important for us to be outside and absorb its rays.”

  Quinn couldn’t help but laugh. “What, like sunbathing?” she asked. “Or rather moonbathing?”

  “Haven’t heard that one before,” Arnaud laughed. “Like it. Quite innovative.”

  “And how often do you have to …moonbath?” Quinn asked.

  “As often as possible,” Arnaud explained. “The thing is that our cells grow more effective with age, meaning that the older we get the more of the moon’s rays we can absorb and the longer we can stay in the sun without having to … recharge, if you will.”

  “Like a battery?”

  “Sounds ridiculous, but yeah, kind of like a battery.”

  Eyeing him curiously, a new thought entered her mind. “So then, how come you’re not all pale-faced like the vampires you see on TV?”

  Arnaud laughed, looking a bit self-conscious. “Self tanning lotion,” was his simple answer.

  Quinn gawked at him. “Seriously?”

  “Yep, it’s the twenty-first century,” he said, a more or less earnest expression on his face. “There is no excuse to still run around looking like a dead person. Plus, it scares off the prey.”

  That shocked her and it showed on her face.

  “Oh, c’mon. That was a joke,” he said, looking displeased. “Would you loosen up?”

  “Why do you always have to tease me?” Quinn asked. “You know I don’t like it. It makes me very uncomfortable.”

  Arnaud grinned at her. “And that is exactly why. Don’t tell me that’s not the very reason why you torture the people around you. It’s fun, entertaining and gives you something to do.”

  “If you say it like that, it sounds really awful,” Quinn objected. “I don’t torture people. I’m just … honest.” He laughed. “Okay, brutally honest.”

  “Sorry, but that doesn’t even begin to cover it!” he disagreed. “C’mon, tell me. What is the real reason why you mind it so much when I tease you?”

  Quinn hesitated. “I don’t know,” she mumbled after a moment.

  “Now, that’s not true,” Arnaud objected. “What’s the real reason? Don’t tell me you’re still scared of me! Not after everything that’s happened.”

  Quinn leaned back, just looking at him, not knowing what to say.

  “Why?” he just asked, all amusement gone from his face.

  “I’m not sure,” Quinn said, disliking the seriousness of their conversation. “You’re scary … sometimes.”

  “When sometimes?”

  She stared at him, feeling uncomfortable. “Like when you go around killing people, for example.”

  “I had a very good reason for that,” Arnaud said, his voice serious. “Or would you rather I’d let him kill you?”

  “No, of course not, but …it’s just that …how do I know that one of these days you don’t think of a very good reason to kill me? Or someone I care about? It’s just always a possibility.”

  Arnaud nodded, not offended in the least. “Okay, then let me ask you this. Don’t you think you’ve already given me many very good reasons to kill you if I really wanted to?” There was a faint grin on his face. “Since I haven’t so far, do you really think there is anything you could do to push me over the edge?”

  His words made sense and Quinn started to relax. With Arnaud it was a constant up and down, like on a rollercoaster. Sometimes she felt saf
e with him and sometimes he terrified her. More than anything she wanted to feel comfortable in his presence and not worry any more.

  “Look, I’m not a violent person,” Arnaud continued, smiling a little at her disbelieving face. “I’m not a saint, either, but I only resort to … let’s say drastic measures if there is no other way. But if you are honest, then you have to admit that I’m not so different from other people. Don’t you think Julia would kill to protect Luke? Would you not fight to defend yourself? I admit that my existence is pushing the limits a little, but I’ve made my peace with that. And if you can find a way to accept that, then I think we’ll be getting along just fine.”

  Taking a deep breath, Quinn nodded. “Alright, I’ll try. But in turn could you at least try to tone down the teasing? I mean, no joking about killing people and that sort. At least for a while?”

  “I’ll do my best,” Arnaud said, slightly bowing his head to her.

  Shaking her head at him, Quinn said, “Gee, thanks. I—”

  Her cell phone rang. Picking up, she asked, “What is it, mom?”

  “Where are you?” Her mother’s voice sounded agitated. It reminded her of the night they had found Amanda’s body.

  “I’m …eh … on my way home,” she stammered, grabbing her purse and heading for the door. “We got to talking and … you know, how it goes. Some of the girls just won’t shut up once they got hooked on a new gossip. Everything alright with you?”

  “Yes, just make sure you’re home for dinner,” her mother said and hung up.

  Opening the door, Quinn turned to Arnaud. “I really need to go. Since that … thing with Amanda, she worries a lot more.”

  Before she could leave though, he caught her arm. “Listen, we really need to talk about something.”

  “Now?”

  “Okay, tomorrow then,” he said, eyes on hers, a serious expression in them. “But you will go straight home and come here tomorrow, right after school.”

  Quinn nodded, a frown on her face. “Alright, if it’s that important. See you tomorrow.”

  At home, her mother made them all sit down for dinner, asking about their day. For some reason, she didn’t elaborate on, her mother seemed more homey. Quinn guessed that it had something to do with all the scary stuff that had been going on lately. If she only knew the whole truth, Quinn thought. But then again, neither did she herself.