by Bree Wolf
“In this case? Definitely.”
“Well, then let me ask you something,” he said, leaning closer. “Is your opinion of me the reason why I don’t get a personal thank you?”
Quinn’s forehead furrowed in confusion, but then it dawned on her and her eyes narrowed. “You were eavesdropping?”
“Eavesdropping is such an ugly word,” Arnaud said. “But yes, I heard you. It was quite touching.”
Why, she didn’t know, but right then and there her anger boiled over and she slapped him. Or at least tried to. Her hand never touched his face because his hand wrapped itself around her wrist, stopping her.
“My, my, taking the bait again,” he taunted.
“You’re a jerk,” she hissed, trying to free her arm.
Arnaud grinned at her. “Is that the best you can do?”
“Drop dead!” Again she pulled on her arm, but his hold didn’t loosen.
As her eyes shifted to her trapped arm though, they saw a silver chain slung around his wrist a couple of times, and at the end of the chain dangled a small silver amulet with a green emerald in its center.
Quinn just stared at it, her trapped arm forgotten. “Where did you get this? Why do you have that?”
Arnaud let go of her arm as he realized the new focus of her attention. His face held something like guilt, as though she had just caught him in a lie.
Looking up at him, she asked again, “Why do you have that? It’s just like mine. Why is that?”
“Alright,” he said, relenting. Touching the amulet on his wrist, he said, “This is why I’m here.”
“What do you mean here?”
“In town,” he clarified. “This is how I knew you were in danger.”
Quinn shook her head. “I’m sorry, are you saying your amulet told you that I was in danger? That sounds ridiculous.”
“Do you really have trouble believing that?” Arnaud asked, eyeing her curiously. “After everything you’ve seen?”
Taking a deep breath, she looked at him, trying to be as open-minded as possible. “Alright, I’m listening.”
“The amulets are a set,” Arnaud explained. “They link those wearing them.”
Looking at the amulet around her neck, she asked, “Where did you get them?”
For a moment, Arnaud hesitated, clearly pondering whether or not to tell her. “From my mother,” he said eventually.
“Your mother?” Quinn repeated, not expecting that.
“Yes, she … she was a bit more than human herself,” he said, his face serious and for a second Quinn detected a hint of sadness in his eyes. “I mean, she was human, but she had an ability. She knew when bad things would happen before they did. It wasn’t like visions or some kind of premonition. It was more like she could sense them.”
Before her inner eye, Quinn suddenly saw the red, pulsating glow of the amulet when the stone changed from emerald green to ruby red. And whenever she’d seen it, something bad had followed. Someone had tried to kill her only moments later.
“That sounds like a handy skill,” Quinn said, her voice softer now.
Arnaud nodded. “It was, especially when we were young. But then she got sick. She knew she was going to die and wouldn’t be able to watch over us any more.”
Quinn was about to ask, when she remembered what he had told her family at dinner. He’d had a sister, a younger sister like she did herself. But his sister had been murdered. That’s why he had told her not to tease her own.
“And so my mother found a way to transfer her gift to the amulets,” Arnaud went on. “She gave them to us, making us promise to always look out for each other.” A deep pain crossed his face. “But I failed her. I let her die.”
Shocked, Quinn stared at him. “I’m sure it wasn’t—”
He lifted a hand to stop her. “Could we not talk about this?”
She nodded. “Alright. Then …tell me, why did you send the other half to me?”
Looking up, Quinn found Arnaud staring at her. “Sent it to you? What are you talking about?”
A little confused, she said, “The amulet, I got it a few weeks ago. Shortly before you came to town. Someone sent it to me. There was no return address, and inside was a note but no name.” Arnaud was still staring at her, still looking shocked. “Wait, you didn’t send it to me?”
He shook his head.
“Then why do I have it?” Quinn asked, again looking at the amulet around her neck as though it would suddenly present the answers. “And why would you think I had it?” Her mind was racing. “Yes, you’re not surprised that I have it. You’re surprised that … How did you think I got it?”
“I …eh …I thought it had been passed down to you,” he said. “I thought that it had been in your family ever since—”
“Ever since when?”
“Ever since I gave it to my friend,” Arnaud said, his eyes still moving as his mind worked, trying to make sense of everything.
“Your friend?” Quinn asked. “But then why would I have it?”
Arnaud looked at her. “Because he was your ancestor.”
Her eyes opened wide. “My ancestor?” He nodded. “But when did you give it to him? I mean, when …How old are you?”
He gave a short laugh. “I’m surprised you didn’t ask me this before.” He took a deep breath. “I was born twenty-two years before the colonies declared their independence from England. You do the Math.”
Her jaw dropped and once again she stared at him. “Wow, that’s old.” He frowned at her words. “Sorry, I mean, you look really good for your age.”
“Better,” he said lightly, but his forehead was still in furrows. “I don’t understand this at all. I gave it to Martin and …How did this happen? And what exactly did happen?” He shook his head.
“Martin?”
Arnaud nodded. “Yeah, Martin McPherson. We were best friends back then, did everything together. We were like brothers. His family and mine were pretty close. He was even engaged to my sister. And then the war came and … everything changed.” Again he snorted. “I changed.”
“You became a vampire?” Quinn asked carefully, sensing that this was not a topic he wanted to discuss.
But he nodded. “I did. And …something happened.” He didn’t go into detail and Quinn didn’t press. “I wanted to make it up to him and before I left, I gave him the amulet. I told him that should he or his ever need me, I would be there. I gave him my word. It was all I had to give back then. But nothing ever happened. I’ve worn this amulet all my life, but it never activated until a few weeks ago.” He looked up at her. “I guess that’s when you got it.”
“And that’s why you came to town?” Quinn asked somewhat astonished. “For me?”
Arnaud nodded. “I’d given him my word, and so I came. I found you, I watched you and when the accident happened, I was able to repay my debt.” He shrugged. “I thought that was it. I never imagined there could be more to it.”
“So that’s not why you stayed,” she said, surprised to feel a hint of disappointment.
He smiled ruefully. “I guess this town got to me. There are so many memories here. Of course, everything is different and yet … this house is the same. Others are too. And the families that lived here back then, still do … in a way. I just couldn’t leave.” Again he looked at her. “Good thing that was because when the amulet activated again, I wasn’t too far away.”
Quinn nodded, remembering the night by the lake. “Thank you,” she said out of the blue, surprising even herself.
Although his eyes narrowed, there was a smile on his face as he came over to her. “Was that for real? Or are you just feeling obligated?” he asked, searching her face.
Looking up into Arnaud’s eyes, she said, “It was for real. I really am grateful.”
“Well, then, you’re welcome,” he said, just as Tate had. “I’m glad you’re alright.”
When the old grandfather clock in the sitting room chimed, Quinn glanced at her watch. “Cra
p, I promised my mother I’d call her.” Remembering that her cell phone was dead, she said, “I need to get home.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Arnaud said, stopping her with a hand on her arm. “You’re staying here for the night.”
“What? But—”
“No buts,” he insisted, still not letting go of her arm. “Call your mom, but you’re not spending the night in your house all by yourself.”
Realizing what he was saying, Quinn frowned. “But they wouldn’t …, would they?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Arnaud said, and to emphasize his words, he pulled her closer, making her look up at him. “You’re staying here and that’s that. The only choice you have now is whether you spend the night in your room,” suddenly there was a devilish grin on his face, “or in mine.”
Although startled and a bit shocked at his bluntness, Quinn couldn’t help but laugh. “Gosh, aren’t we cocky?”
He grinned. “I’ve always wanted to say something like that.”
“Really?” she said, playing along. “Was it as good as you thought it would be?”
Again there was that devilish grin on his face. “Well, I guess that depends on your answer.”
“Are you hitting on me?” Quinn asked, frowning at him.
Arnaud laughed. “Wouldn’t you like that?”
“You’re severely overestimating yourself,” she told him, shaking her head, but couldn’t quite suppress an amused smile playing on her lips.
“Maybe you can’t tell, but your heart just skipped a beat.” A big grin still on his face, Arnaud turned around and grabbed his cell phone from the counter by the fridge. “Here,” he said, holding it out to her. “Call your mom, but you might want to omit the sleeping arrangements.”
Chapter 27 – Fine Print
With the extra clothes her parents had packed for their weekend trip, there really was no need for Quinn to go home. Grabbing the bag still in the trunk of her jeep, she once more settled into the guest room she had already slept in the night they had gone after Luke. This time with no exhaustion hanging over her head, she took a look around.
The canopy bed framed by an antique, mahogany nightstand on each side stood in the center of the room opposite double windows facing west. The lower half of the walls was paneled in wood of nearly the same dark color, blending well with the faint yellow wallpaper, which had thin threads of gold running in various patterns over it. A matching dresser and wardrobe stood in the corner by the door, leaving plenty of room to move around freely, not crowding it. The dark hardwood floor around the bed was covered with rectangular carpets placed around it in an angular semi-circle.
All in all, it was a comfortable, homey looking bedroom and with everything that had happened, Quinn didn’t feel like a guest at all. She had only stayed in this room once before and yet it seemed familiar, welcoming her back as she entered.
Placing her bag on the dresser, not bothering to fill any of the drawers, she followed a childish impulse and spreading her arms jumped onto the bed. Landing on her belly, she enjoyed the feeling of sinking into the soft pillows, suddenly realizing that she was tired after all. It had been a long and most of all hard, truly troubling day.
Quinn changed into her pajama and with the sun long lost behind the horizon, the feeling of nighttime came over her quickly and she settled into bed. Hugging a pillow to her body, she felt herself relax and let go of the nightmare that had become her life. In moments like these, when everything was quiet and peaceful, the reality of it still felt surreal and unbelievable.
As she closed her eyes, a part of her conjured up Arnaud’s image, looking at her with troubled eyes. Remembering how mad he had been, when Tate had revealed to her that he had been worried, Quinn couldn’t help but smile. Arnaud truly seemed to care about her. Why else would he stay in Crescent Rock and look after her as he did? Could it really just be memories keeping him there?
Thinking about it now, Quinn realized that something had been going on between them for a while. Again she remembered the night in the laundry room only three days ago when he had healed her. Reliving the moment, Quinn felt certain he could have given her his blood a different way. But he had chosen to kiss her.
She was sure it had been deliberate. With Arnaud, everything was. He wasn’t the kind of person who did something without intention. And so Quinn couldn’t help but wonder what his intentions were towards her.
***
When she woke up, it was still dark. There was no sunshine trying to reach inside her room. Everything was pitch black. It was still night.
As sleep fell from her, Quinn’s ears detected sounds that hadn’t been there when she had gone to bed. It sounded like there was a battle going on outside her window. Her heart stopped at the thought of another attack, and for a moment she wished she had taken Arnaud up on his offer to spend the night in his room. With him around, she would at least have felt safe.
But then the rational part of her mind, that wasn’t hindered by fear, kicked in and she realized that the sounds she was hearing were the pattering of rain and howling of wind.
Strong wind though.
Walking over to the windows and pulling back the curtains, she saw leaves and twigs dance in the air. They were carried here and there, now and then dropping to the ground, only to be picked up again moments later. Some clattered against the house, making loud banging noises.
Suddenly there was a blinding light, followed by a loud crack, and a thick branch broke off one of the sycamore trees and crashed down onto her jeep. Luckily, it landed squarely on the roof. From where she was, it looked like the windshield was unharmed.
All of a sudden feeling uneasy in the room all by herself, Quinn carefully opened the door and peeked into the hallway. There was no one there and she breathed in deeply, unaware before that she’d held her breath.
Tiptoeing down the hallway, she came to the open rail and peered down into the sitting room to one side and the foyer to the other. Everything was quiet there too. But in the next moment, the dark turned bright, as lightning flashed across the sky. Its light fell into the house through the two-storey windows to each side of the fireplace. Following on its heels came rolling thunder.
Careful not to trip over her own feet, Quinn ventured downstairs, not knowing what she was hoping to find there. She shot a quick glance at the closed door between staircase and sitting area, where Arnaud had his bedroom, and then headed into the kitchen. Getting a bottle of apple juice from the fridge and a glass from the cabinet, she realized that the kitchen like her room upstairs was one of the loudest rooms in the house. The storm came rolling in from the west, gaining height over the hills, and then, dropping down, crashed into the lower lands.
The glass in her hand, Quinn stared out the window at the dark chaos outside, engulfing the house. She had never been afraid of the night, and thunder had always made the inside feel more snugly. But right then and there, Quinn just wanted it to stop. She wanted the day to come and brighten everything, make it look less threatening.
With her back to the room, Quinn let out a slightly hysterical shriek, as a hand suddenly settled on her shoulder from behind.
Spinning around, her eyes closed in relief as she found Arnaud standing there, looking her up and down.
“Cute jammies,” he said, lifting an eyebrow at her. Since nights were still kind of balmy, she was wearing a pastel pink tank top with pajama shorts in the same color, but with white bunnies on them.
Still catching her breath, she hissed, “Don’t do that! You almost gave me a heart attack! Again, I might add.”
Arnaud just shrugged. “Is it my fault that you scare easily?”
Quinn just looked at him reproachfully, too annoyed to dignify that with an answer.
“What are you doing up?” he asked.
She held up the glass in her hand which by some miracle she hadn’t dropped.
“That the only reason?” he asked, his voice for once not mocking. “You look a little
spooked and I doubt that’s all due to me.”
Again looking outside, Quinn shrugged. “The storm woke me up. Usually it doesn’t scare me.” She turned to look at him. “It’s just … suddenly everything looks different, you know?”
He nodded and, putting a hand under her chin, made her look up at him. “You’re safe in this house,” he said, his eyes not moving from hers.
“I know,” she whispered, unable to look away.
They stood like that for a while, his hand under her chin, their eyes locked. Then his hand suddenly moved. His fingertips traced the line of her jaw and ran down the side of her neck to her shoulder, sending shivers down her back. Her arm tingled as his hand brushed over it, finally reaching hers.
“There is something I wanted to give you,” he said, leading her back to the sitting room.
Letting go of her hand, Arnaud walked over to the old armoire standing by the east wall to the right of the fireplace. On it, there was a small wooden box with artful carvings decorating its lid. He opened it and reached inside.
As he came back over to her, Quinn’s eyes couldn’t quite make out what he was holding. Only when he held it up to her face did the faint light of the moon illuminate it enough for her to be surprised.
“A stake?” she asked, looking at him questioningly. “I don’t understand.”
“I thought it might make you feel safer,” he said, shrugging a little uncertainly. “Sometimes it feels good to have something to hold on to.”
Quinn smiled. “You mean like a security blanket?”
Laughing, he said, “Kind of. But this will actually come in handy if you ever run into another blood-sucker.” His brows lifted teasingly as he said the word blood-sucker.
Still looking a little confused, Quinn said, “But I thought stakes didn’t kill vampires. I mean, see evidence A.” She pointed at him.
“That’s not entirely true,” he admitted contritely. “The stake you had didn’t.”
“Aha,” she said. “I’m sensing some fine print coming up. So, then tell me, how is this one different?”
Handing the stake to her, Arnaud said, “It’s made of a certain kind of wood, from a tree that has seen the beginnings of time, as they say. Only stakes made of that kind of wood kill us.”