by Bree Wolf
Tate shrugged. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure. All I know is that, what happens to one body, does not affect the other.” He lifted his left sleeve, showing her the unscathed skin on his upper arm.
Quinn’s eyes opened in surprised. “Are you saying your human form didn’t get hurt? At all?”
He nodded his head.
“Then why didn’t you change back before?”
“If I had, the wolf wouldn’t have been able to heal,” he continued. “That’s what I meant. The body that is not used stays the same, it doesn’t change. Plus, the shift is not effortless. It takes some energy to shift. Energy that I just didn’t have at the time.”
Driving down de la Roche Avenue, past the cemetery, Quinn asked, “So, does that mean that you’re wearing what you were wearing before you shifted into your wolf form?”
Again he nodded his head. “Complicated stuff, isn’t it?”
“You don’t say.”
Without thinking about it, Quinn had driven to Arnaud’s place, now parking the jeep by the grove of sycamores. The house looked as before, quiet and peaceful, but Quinn couldn’t help but wonder what awaited them inside. She suddenly remembered Arnaud’s call the night before. For some reason, he seemed to be mad at her.
“Oops,” Tate said when they got out of the car.
“What?” she asked, seeing his face looking contrite. “Something wrong?”
He pointed at the jeep’s roof. “I’m afraid that was me.”
Turning to look, Quinn saw that the roof was dented in. “How did that happen? When were you on the roof?” But even before she finished the question, she remembered hearing a metallic thud before the wolf came flying through the air, flinging himself at the vampire and saving her life.
“Don’t worry,” she said, waving his concerns away. “I’m sure Mr. Blake will have that fixed in no time.”
Mr. Blake was Andrew’s father. He and his two eldest sons owned an auto shop near town square, where Andrew had helped out over the summer. It made her think of their date three weeks ago. Ever since then, there had been nothing but a little bit of small talk between them when they ran into each other at school. Apart from that it had been out of sight, out of mind.
As they walked to the front door, Quinn put a hand on Tate’s arm, stopping him. He turned to look at her, his warm eyes searching her face. “Something wrong?” he asked.
“I just ...,” she started, trying to find the right words. “I just wanted to thank you … for what you did. You saved my life. If you hadn’t shown up …”
“You’re welcome,” he said, his voice serious. “And besides you did just as much for me. Looks like we make a good team.”
“We sure do,” she said, feeling a burden lifted off her shoulders.
“You know, I heard what you said to him, and he was right, you are quite ballsy.” He smiled at her. “You sure you don’t want to join the ranks of the supernatural?”
Quinn laughed. “Absolutely sure.”
He grinned at her. “Just so you know, I’d bite you any day.”
She stared at him, the smile still on her face. “Gee, thanks. I’ll remember that for when I get bored with my measly human life.”
“You do that,” he said, walking up the front steps.
Chapter 25 – Referee Guy
They found Arnaud in the sitting room, lounging on an armchair, eyes focused on the book in his hands. As they entered, he lifted his head, looking from one to the other, the expression on his face speaking of sheer boredom.
Then his eyes narrowed. “You got hurt,” he said somewhat reproachfully, not asking but stating a fact. “Both of you.” He rose from the chair, put down the book and walked over.
“How do you know?” Quinn asked, already a little annoyed with his condescending attitude.
“He can smell the blood,” Tate answered for his friend. “Listen, can we talk later and eat first,” he asked, looking from Quinn to Arnaud and back again, before heading to the kitchen without waiting for an answer.
Following him, Quinn looked at Arnaud. “I thought your nose wasn’t all that good.”
“It is when it comes to blood,” he said, winking at her.
Shaking her head, Quinn wondered, “Gosh, why am I even surprised?”
“Don’t know,” Arnaud said, taking the food Tate handed him and put it on the table. “Slow learner?”
Quinn’s eyes narrowed. “Better a slow learner than a first-rate jack-ass!”
“Children,” Tate said, helping himself to a sandwich stacked a mile high. “Could we postpone the fighting?” He looked from one to the other. “I know you guys almost live off that stuff, but I’m a peace-loving person and I could really do with a little bit of harmony, even if it’s just the pretend kind. So, do you think we can all sit at one table without bashing in each other’s heads? Or do I need to put on my referee shirt?”
“Fine,” Quinn said, sitting down to the left of Tate, whereas Arnaud took a chair to his right. She had to admit it did look like a match was about to start.
“I’m glad,” Tate said, cutting his sandwich in half and handing one half to Quinn and the other to Arnaud. “There, a peace offering,” he said, grabbing another baguette for a new sandwich. “Now, Arnaud, you said you needed to talk to Quinn. Here’s your chance.”
From across the table, Arnaud looked at her reproachfully. “You gave me your word that you would come over Friday after school.”
Quinn shook her head. “What? You’re mad about me not keeping my word? By the way, when did I promise I would?” When he opened his mouth to speak, she continued, “Okay, maybe I did. But how was I supposed to know my parents would pull such a stunt? It’s not my fault. I can’t believe you’re mad about something as petty as this.”
“Well—” Arnaud started but was cut off by Tate.
“He is not,” his friend said, his words a bit muffled as he chewed. Quinn looked at him questioningly. “He was worried,” Tate said, a bit easier to understand after he’d swallowed the bite. “That’s why he is mad.”
“Tate!” Arnaud hissed, an angry expression on his face.
Quinn was surprised to see him like that. “But why were you worried? You couldn’t have known what would happen.”
Arnaud’s eyes turned to her. “It’s not like I do now. No one’s told me anything yet. But if you had come over or called at the very least, I could have told you that there was a possibility.”
“A possibility that a vampire would try to kill me?” Quinn asked, dumbfounded.
At her words, his face froze. “A vampire?”
Tate nodded. “Do you think I would’ve gotten hurt otherwise?”
“Merde!” Arnaud cursed in French. “Tell me what happened! Everything!”
And so Quinn told him how she had come upon the man lying in the middle of the road, how she’d thought that he was dead after checking his pulse and how he had then attacked her. Tate added a few bits and pieces here and there, including how they had eventually taken down the vampire.
“I have to admit the head-coming-off thing was really gross,” Quinn said, a shiver running over her at the memory. “I’m really hoping I will never have to see anything like that ever again.”
“And he said he had been given orders?” Arnaud asked, eyes distant as his mind worked.
Quinn nodded. “But why would anyone want to kill me? I mean, c’mon, what’s the point?”
Arnaud shook his head. “I don’t know, neither did Mr. Sanders. Believe me, I asked. But something’s going on. Or why else would it suddenly be open season on you?” He grinned at her then. “Tried to kill anyone else lately?”
Quinn frowned. “What do you mean anyone—?” She stopped in mid-sentence as she realized what he meant. “Funny! How much longer will I have to expect comments like this?”
“Hmm,” he said, rubbing his chin. “Let’s see, I think now and forever. How’s that?”
“Great! Just great,” Quinn mumbled, fin
ally taking a bite from her sandwich. She hadn’t eaten anything all day, not since the hasty breakfast that morning.
“So then, what do we do?” Tate asked, sitting back, his sandwich already gone.
“Do you really think that whoever it is will try again?” Quinn asked frowning, hoping the answer would be no.
Arnaud looked at her for a moment. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I think so, yes. Someone who hires a hitman won’t just let it go. Whatever the reason, it must be important. Take Mr. Sanders for instance, how long has he been in town?”
Quinn shrugged. “A year maybe.”
“So, whoever wants you dead, didn’t start planning this only yesterday,” Arnaud said emphatically. “Plus, after Mr. Sanders failed, he hired someone else. And not a human. A vampire. So, what makes you think he will stop now?”
Again Quinn shrugged, starting to feel depressed. “Wishful thinking, I guess.”
Arnaud smiled at her compassionately. “Believe me, if someone wants you dead, he will stop at nothing. He will find another way, meaning…”
“… he will hire someone else,” Quinn finished his sentence.
“Exactly,” Arnaud nodded. “So the only way to see you safe permanently is to find out who is behind this – ‘why’ would be good too – and to eliminate that threat.”
“When you say eliminate,” Quinn asked, starting to feel uneasy. “You mean …?”
Not saying anything, Arnaud just looked at her, raising his eyebrows.
“Oh perfect!” Quinn moaned. “More killing. You know, this year really is a record for this town.” She looked at him. “You realize I’m very uncomfortable with this?”
“Then you better get comfortable,” Arnaud said. “Because it’s the only way.”
Tate put a hand on her arm, trying to comfort her. “And you really have no idea why you could be a target?”
Quinn only shook her head, but Arnaud said, “Actually, Mr. Sanders left us a clue. It’s not much. He had no idea why he was hired, which obviously didn’t hinder his commitment to the job, but apparently there was some talk he picked up on.”
Both Tate and Quinn looked at him curiously.
“Apparently,” Arnaud started. “It’s got something to do with your family. He said something about your family always having been a target. Why, he didn’t know. But that suggests that it isn’t just you. There possibly have been attacks on your family before. Probably for the same reason. If we figure out the why, it may lead us to the who.”
Quinn frowned. “Then how come I don’t know about it? Don’t you think I’d know if relatives of mine had been murdered?”
“Maybe it didn’t look like murder,” Arnaud suggested. “Just think of the first time Mr. Sanders tried to kill you.”
“The first time?” Quinn asked, looking at him disbelievingly.
“Right,” he said as though to himself while putting on an I-told-you-so face. “Since you didn’t show up on Friday, you don’t know about that yet.”
Tate looked at him reproachfully. “Would you let it go?”
“Fine,” Arnaud relented. “The night of your accident, that was him too.”
Her eyes widening, Quinn stared at him. “What? That was him?”
Arnaud nodded. “He wanted to make it look like an accident. Apparently, his employer prefers that. He didn’t want the killing to make the front page.” He looked at her then, no anger on his face any more. “But when that didn’t work, Mr. Sanders decided on a more direct approach.”
Quinn nodded, eyes cast down. “He kidnapped Julia and Luke.”
“No,” Arnaud said. “That wasn’t his next try.”
Brows knitting together, Quinn stared at him. For a moment she didn’t understand, but then there was something in his eyes that suddenly let her put the pieces together. “Amanda,” she whispered.
Arnaud nodded. “He thought she was you.”
“Who’s Amanda?” Tate asked.
“Quinn’s …friend,” Arnaud explained. “She was a cheerleader, too, and looked a lot like her. I guess that’s where it got confusing for him. It was dark in the alley. She was driving her car. Under these circumstances, I guess she had an uncanny resemblance to her.”
“She is dead because of me,” Quinn mumbled, staring at the crumbs on her plate. “It’s my fault.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Arnaud objected, his voice almost harsh.
“It’s not,” came Tate’s voice, sounding much softer. “She is dead because of him and because of whoever wants you dead. Don’t allow them to put that on your shoulders.”
Giving him a weak smile, Quinn nodded. “You’re right.” Pushing the plate away, she sat back, crossing her arms. “You’re right. I just feel so awful.”
For a moment they sat there in silence, Quinn staring into the distance and Tate and Arnaud occasionally casting glances at her, waiting.
After a while she blinked, her eyes focusing on the here and now again, and she looked from Tate to Arnaud. “I just …I never thanked you, both of you, for looking out for me.” Tate smiled at her, putting a hand over hers. “If it weren’t for you, I’d be dead already. Many times over as it seems.” A nervous laugh escaped her, but as she looked at Arnaud, his face was serious. “Until now, I …I guess I didn’t quite understand. I mean, why would anyone want to kill me? I’m no one. I’m not important in any way. Why should anyone take the trouble? Accidents happen, yes. But…? I just have trouble wrapping my mind around that. In a way it’s more difficult than accepting that you two aren’t human.” She looked from Arnaud to Tate. “As freaky as that may sound.”
“We’ll find a way,” Tate said, gently squeezing her hand.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m really sorry for putting all this on you.”
Arnaud waved her concerns away, a smile back on his face. “Don’t worry, it’s been getting a little dull around here any way.”
Quinn smiled, for the first time grateful for his stupidly annoying jokes. Right then and there, they lifted her up a little.
“Okay,” Tate started. “So, what do we do? Where do we start?”
Arnaud nodded at her. “With your family. We need to find out if anything like this has ever happened before. I’ll try to dig a little into your family history and you should talk to your parents.”
“What? You want me to tell them about all this? That would kill them,” she said, shocked at his suggestion. “And ground me forever.”
Arnaud smiled at her remark. “You don’t need to give them all the details. Just talk to them, try to find out if any relatives have ever died under more unusual circumstances. I mean, maybe they don’t know anything. It’s just a try. But maybe they’ll remember something.” Suddenly he sat up in his seat. “Wait! What about your mom’s brother? At dinner, I think she mentioned something about him dying in a car accident.”
Quinn nodded. “Yes, he was very young. That’s why she was so terrified when I had …the accident. He was just about my age when it happened.” Her eyes grew big as she finished the sentence. “You don’t think there is a connection, do you?”
“I don’t know,” Arnaud said. “There might be. That’s why you should talk to them. Find out what exactly happened and if there were others. Should there be a pattern, they might help discover it.”
Just nodding, Quinn was too stunned to speak.
“And don’t stay by yourself,” Tate warned. “Always surround yourself with as many people as possible. I guess, she should be fine at school,” he said to Arnaud, who nodded.
“Your family didn’t come back with you?” Arnaud asked.
Quinn shook her head. “No, I came back early. I didn’t want to stay the whole weekend.”
“Why?” Tate asked.
“’Cause my relatives are obnoxious idiots,” she said, a little too harsh. “Especially my aunt, and my cousin who – come to think of it – is like a mini version of her.”
“That bad?” Arnaud asked, grinnin
g.
“She’s a deceitful little brat.”
He nodded, a smirk on his face. “I see you two really hit it off.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Arnaud shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Don’t give me this crap,” Quinn snapped, feeling her anger rise and welcoming it. Anger was better than fear.
“Alright, that’s my cue,” Tate said, rising from the table. “I’ll be in the woods, in case you need me.” And putting his plate in the dishwasher, he shifted into his wolf form as though it was the most normal thing in the world and was gone.
“So?” Quinn said, a clear challenge in her voice.
Chapter 26 – A Debt Repaid
Gathering their plates, Arnaud walked over to the sink. “Well, if you must know. I was just thinking how it’s obviously true what they say. You know, about how two divas can’t share a cage.” He turned around then, looking at her, a smug smile on his face.
Rising to her feet, Quinn crossed her arms. “What? Are you comparing me to her? You have never even met her. How would you know?”
He shrugged. “Well, what can I say? Your description of her was uncanny.”
“You’re doing this on purpose,” Quinn accused. “You’re provoking me.”
Arnaud walked over to her then, his eyes meeting hers, a gleam of mischief in them. “If you know that, then why are you taking the bait?”
Unable to control her anger any longer, Quinn gave him a shove and felt frustrated when he just laughed at her, not even swaying in the least. It was like trying to move a boulder of solid rock, which reminded her of the night in the laundry room, when he had healed her with his blood. That had only been three days ago but it seemed like a long time.
“Wow, resorting to physical attacks now,” Arnaud said, quite obviously pleased with her reaction. “I must really have pissed you off.”
“Keep dreaming,” she hissed. “You’re just a jerk like at least half the people on this planet and not worth my time.”
“I gotta say, you really have a high opinion of your kind,” Arnaud said. “And when you say people, does that include me?”