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

by Bree Wolf

  “Hey!” Soo-Ji called, eyes narrowing. “Just because I’m small doesn’t mean I can’t eat.”

  Trying to hide a smile, Arnaud said, “Now, would you consider that a talent?”

  “Oh, leave her alone,” Quinn said, elbowing him in the ribs. “What do you got there?” she asked, sitting down and scanning the different kinds of food. The lunch menu in the school cafeteria had been less than edible today and she was famished.

  “Try the cinnamon rolls,” Soo-Ji suggested, handing her a plate.

  Slightly gawking at them, Arnaud complained, “With her you share?”

  Soo-Ji grinned at him. “She’s a nice person—”

  “Thank you,” Quinn threw in.

  “You’re welcome,” Soo-Ji said, turning her eyes back to Arnaud. “You, on the other hand, can be quite irritating which makes me want to … what’s the word,” she mused. “Oh yeah, hurt you. And I’m not a violent person.” She shook her head for emphasis. “Do you see how upsetting this is for me?”

  As Arnaud opened his mouth to answer, a short ring came from Quinn’s purse, hanging over the back of the chair.

  “Sorry.” She fished for her cell phone. “Crap, it’s my sister,” Quinn said, reading the text message. “She wants me to pick her up at a friend’s house. 156 Willow Road. That’s down by the high school, isn’t it? I didn’t know she had a friend there.” She shrugged. “I didn’t know she had a friend, besides that way-too-much-attitude-than-is-good-for-her Jo.” Reading on, she stopped. “Oops, I completely forgot.”

  “What?” Arnaud asked.

  “The carnival,” Quinn said, again looking annoyed. “It’s this weekend, on the fields down by the high school. Some of us got roped into helping out. You know, setting up booths, decorating and the like. I just didn’t know my sister was one of the unfortunate creatures who had been caught in the net. On the other hand, it makes sense. She just can’t say no.”

  “And as dedicated as you are, you don’t help?” Arnaud asked, a clear challenge in his voice.

  Smiling at him sweetly, Quinn shook her head. “Why would I?”

  He shrugged. “So, Miss High School doesn’t help out?”

  “Miss High School doesn’t have to,” Quinn said a bit snippy. “She has minions who do it for her.”

  Soo-Ji had observed their exchange with curious eyes. With a grin on her face, she shook her head. “Listening to you two, someone who didn’t know you would think you didn’t like each other, are you aware of that?”

  “Who says we like each other?” Quinn asked, eyes narrowed, taking another bite from her cinnamon roll. “He is so obnoxious,” she added, chewing.

  “Look who’s talking,” Arnaud countered, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

  Shrugging her shoulders, Soo-Ji raised her hands. “Okay, I rest my case.” She turned to Quinn. “What about your sister? Don’t you need to go pick her up?”

  “She can wait. Food first.” The rest of her cinnamon roll disappeared in her mouth. “Gosh, I’m famished.”

  “I can see that,” Arnaud said, flicking a loose grape across the table.

  “Don’t you ever get hungry?” Quinn asked, reaching for an apple. Not too many carbs, her mind cautioned.

  “Not for food,” Arnaud said. “That’s just for fun, but it doesn’t sustain me. Blood, on the other hand, …I have to say both of you smell really tasty.”

  “Ugh!” Quinn held up a hand. “Do you mind? We’re eating.”

  “Fine,” Arnaud said, leaning back.

  “By the way,” Quinn started, turning to Soo-Ji. “Any news from Martin’s dad? Please tell me, he popped by this morning with the ultimate answer to the question of why my head is such a popular target lately!”

  “Sorry, haven’t seen him yet,” Soo-Ji said. “But I promise I’ll let you know as soon as I do. Even if it’s the middle of the night. Sound good?”

  Quinn nodded, feeling disappointed. “Yeah, thanks.”

  Again there came a faint ring from her purse.

  “Alright, alright,” Quinn said, getting up. “I’m on my way.” She grabbed another handful of grapes before heading out. “See you guys tomorrow,” she called over her shoulder.

  Almost out the door, Arnaud was suddenly beside her. “Care for some company tonight?” he asked, one of those strange twinkles in his eyes.

  “To tell you the truth, all I’m gonna care for tonight is sleep,” Quinn said, an apologetic smile on her face. “I can barely keep my eyes open as it is.”

  “That’s probably a good idea,” he said. “And drive carefully, you hear?”

  “I promise. I have no intention of helping whoever is after my head in their quest.”

  As she drove down the driveway, Quinn could still see Arnaud standing in the doorframe, watching her leave.

  A couple of minutes later, de la Roche Avenue crossed Willow Road and Quinn turned left, driving south, away from the town center. Keeping an eye out for the correct house number, it took her another five minutes and she found herself all the way at the end of the street, before the house came in sight.

  It was a small, well-tended house and front yard at the end of a quiet street. There were no children playing or dogs barking. Here, the houses were farther apart than those closer to the town center. Thick clusters of trees and bushes grew in-between, almost cutting them off from the world around.

  Parking the car by the curb and walking up the front steps, Quinn wondered which of her sister’s friends lived there. Probably another wallflower, she concluded. Otherwise she’d have noticed her before.

  There was no door bell and so Quinn knocked. Only ajar, the door slowly glided open, exposing a just as tidy interior. Flowery wallpapers covered every wall and painted pots and vases garnished every surface. It looked like her grandmother’s house before she had moved into a home.

  “Hello?” Quinn called, taking a step inside. “Anyone home? Cora?”

  Again checking her cell phone to make sure she was in the right house, Quinn walked into the parlor. The flower motif extended to couch and cushions, decorated picture frames and wall hangings.

  “This is creepy,” she whispered and louder, “Cora? Hello?”

  For a moment she thought she heard footsteps on the stairs and was about to turn back to the entrance hall, when suddenly a red glow rose from around her neck and met her eyes.

  Instantly, cold shivers ran over her body and the breath caught in her throat.

  With a level-headedness that surprised her, Quinn knew that once again her life was in danger. The stone had never been wrong. Not once.

  The front door was just a few long strides behind her. She could make it if she left now, but something held her back.

  Once before when Mr. Sanders had been after her, the assassin had gone through someone she cared for to lure her to a specific spot. Back then it had been Julia.

  Now it was her sister.

  Fighting down rising panic, Quinn hoped that Arnaud would know that she was in danger and come.

  Constantly looking around herself, she crossed the parlor and then pushed open the door to the kitchen. At first she saw nothing unusual, but a moment later her eyes fell on a hand on the kitchen floor protruding from around a corner. The rest of the body was still hidden from her sight.

  “Cora?” she whispered, taking a careful step forward. And then another, still not breathing. As her eyes finally fell on the body, relief and horror washed over her simultaneously.

  It wasn’t Cora.

  The old woman, her gray hair in grandmotherly curls, wore an apron over her dress that again held a floral pattern. Eyes open in shock, she lay in a small pool of blood, two puncture marks on her neck.

  Unable to look away, Quinn walked closer. Kneeling down, she reached for the old woman’s wrist, but there was no pulse. Instead she found another set of puncture marks.

  “It’s more than one,” Quinn whispered, slowly rising to her feet, eyes cast in all directions. Her right hand di
sappeared in her baggy purse and she felt a small hint of relief as it curled around the by now familiar texture of the stake Arnaud had given her.

  Again she thought she heard footsteps on the stairs, but the sound was faint and disappeared as soon as it had reached her ears.

  Moving on through the dining room, Quinn peered around the corner, her eyes scanning the entrance hall. There was no one there, not on the stairs leading to the second floor nor anywhere else she saw. The door was still open. Again Quinn felt compelled to rush out and just leave, and again she fought down the impulse and instead approached the stairs.

  Carefully placing one step after the other on the old stairs, making loud creaking noises she was sure even the neighbors must have heard, Quinn suddenly shook her head. From experience she knew how well vampires heard. Plus, whoever it was was expecting her. If they were still here, they knew exactly where she was. There was no point in treading lightly. And Quinn bet her life that they were just lying in wait, enjoying the chase.

  Trying to calculate how much time had passed since her necklace had come alive – it couldn’t have been more than a minute or two – Quinn stopped at the landing, seeing two doors go off to each side. She took a deep breath and opened the first, her hand still wrapped around the stake in her purse.

  It was the old lady’s bedroom, but it was empty. No Cora. No vampires. The other two rooms held old toys and were probably her children’s rooms from when they had been young.

  Back in the hall, Quinn started to feel annoyed, and welcoming the feeling, she let it rise. “Where the hell are you?” she called, her voice angry. She was tired of this cat-and-mouse game.

  But there was no answer.

  Heading downstairs again, she called out once more. “Show yourself!”

  At first there was nothing. Then halfway down the stairs she stopped, as a blonde man appeared from the parlor, his eyes cold as they glided over her.

  As she saw him, she fought to keep her hands from shaking. Feeding off her anger, Quinn lifted her chin and looked down at him with as much disdain and disregard as she could muster.

  “Where is my sister?” she demanded, while trying to listen for sounds that would tell her of the whereabouts of the second vampire.

  Slowly a smug grin spread over his face as he lifted his right hand, holding something up for her to see. It was her sister’s cell phone.

  Realizing that Cora was nowhere in this house and not in any danger at all, Quinn was surprised at how relieved she suddenly felt. Now she had only her own life to worry about. It was less of a burden, and as strange as it was she felt herself relax.

  An easy smile on her face, she nodded. “Well played,” she said, leisurely leaning against the wall. “So? You sure you want to do this? Coming after me is not wise, ask the others. Oh wait! You can’t. They’re dead.”

  Mimicking her, the blonde man rested his shoulder against the wall of the entrance hall. “Oh, we made sure your pet vampire won’t get in our way, and last we heard, the werewolf has left town.”

  Keeping her cool, Quinn’s eyebrows rose. “Your point?”

  “Without them you are defenseless,” he sneered. “You know that.”

  Quinn smiled. “Just you believe that.”

  Unsure only for a second, Quinn suddenly knew that the other vampire was on the upper floor, hiding around the corner to the old lady’s bedroom. Maybe there had been a draft in the air. Or the light had cast a shadow. Or he had made a noise that had caught her ear. She couldn’t tell, but there had been something.

  Not changing her posture, her eyes wandered up. “Why don’t you come down? I know you’re there.” Her gaze returned to the blonde one, looking him square in the eyes. “Didn’t anyone teach you manners?” she still spoke to the one upstairs, smiling faintly as she realized she was channeling her mother.

  With her attention to detail, Quinn could see that she had chipped off a bit of the blonde one’s self-confidence. For a second there was a hint of doubt in his eyes and her own eyebrows rose in response, telling him that she’d seen it.

  As again sounds reached her ears from upstairs, she shifted her eyes to see the other vampire, looking nothing like the blonde one, stop at the upper step. For one, he was rather short and stocky, with muddy-brown hair and jug ears. But what really set them apart was the lack of experience, clearly visible in his eyes. He didn’t seem confident like the blonde one, but cocky. Impulsive. Hasty.

  “How nice of you to join us,” Quinn chirped, carefully watching them without being obvious. She knew she was trapped on the stairs. There was no way out. And she knew she wouldn’t be able to take them both, had doubts whether she could manage one, but what she really needed were just a few more minutes. She needed to stall them and give Arnaud time to get there. Obviously, Blondie and Muddy didn’t know about the amulet.

  “Why don’t you finish her?” Muddy snarled, advancing a step.

  “Shut up!” Blondie replied, his eyes narrowing as his mind worked.

  Again tapping into her anger, Quinn’s eyebrows rose in challenge. “Yeah, why don’t you?” Her voice sounded almost bored.

  “Let me do it,” Muddy demanded, his eyes fiery like a predator spying easy prey.

  A self-confident smile on her face, Quinn’s hand wrapped itself tighter around the stake still hidden in her purse. It was only a matter of time before Muddy would make a move, and when he did, she would make him regret it.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Quinn kept watching him. Her eyes however were directed at Blondie, who stood eyeing her curiously. Obviously she had raised doubt in him, about what he thought he knew about her and who she was, what she was capable of. He was thinking things through, she could see it in his eyes. And while caution was usually a good thing, his hesitation would only get him closer to his own death. She had no doubt that Arnaud would be there soon.

  And then without so much as a smart-ass remark, Muddy flung himself forward, teeth bared, aiming for her throat.

  Chapter 36 – Killed By Attitude

  For some reason, Quinn’s eyes detected the movement in time for her hand to move into position. Maybe they had adapted, by now used to the quick flashes with which Arnaud moved. Whatever it was, it was enough.

  Her hand, still wrapped tightly around the stake, shot out of her purse and the moment Muddy’s fangs almost reached her throat, the stake pierced his heart. It took no effort on her part. The force, with which he had lunged at her, was more than enough to impale himself on the stake, almost slamming her into the wall, but essentially leaving her unhurt.

  Muddy’s eyes bulged and his face froze, all life leaving his body.

  In a dramatic gesture, he clutched his hands to his chest and then dropped to the ground, tumbling down the stairs. By the time he hit the floorboards, his body was drained, looking dry and brittle. Upon contact with the hard ground below, it burst into dust, sprinkling the floor with a fine layer of tiny particles, all that remained of him.

  Forcing her face back under her mind’s control, Quinn leisurely leaned back against the wall, turning the stake in her hands, a self-assured smile on her face. “I gotta say, this is a handy little gadget,” she said, eyes shifting to Blondie, who stood staring at her, shock clear on his face. “And what I really appreciate is that you guys clean up after yourselves. Just look at it.” She pointed at the floor covered in a thin layer of dust. “All you need is a good sweep and everything is back to normal.”

  Still staring at her, Blondie hissed, “Who are you? What are you?”

  “I have to admit sometimes I wonder about that myself,” suddenly came Arnaud’s voice from the front door. Hearing it, Blondie spun around, eyes even bigger with shock.

  Seeing him standing there, the usual smile on his face, Quinn relaxed, almost dropping the stake as her fingers unclamped. The nerves she had so painfully kept in check relaxed.

  As Arnaud approached him, Blondie’s face fell, doubt and uncertainty showing clearly in his eyes. In the next
moment he turned and bolted for the back door.

  But Arnaud was faster, grasping him by the throat, not unlike he’d held Mr. Sanders that night by Almond Lake.

  Turning his eyes back to her, Arnaud said, “I thought I’d give you a hand, but it looks like you got everything under control. Quite nice for a meekly human.” He smiled at her appreciatively. “You want to off him too?” he asked, his head nodding at Blondie.

  Shrugging, Quinn descended the stairs. “I already got one. That one’s yours.”

  Arnaud grinned.

  As his eyes shifted to Blondie, they turned cold. “I will kill you,” he said matter-of-factly. “But I’m willing to temper justice with mercy if you can tell me who hired you.”

  There was a hint of fear on Blondie’s face at Arnaud’s words, but he mostly managed not to let it show. “Kill me then,” he said, lips pressed into a thin line.

  “You sure you don’t know anything?” Arnaud asked as though making polite conversation. “You know there’s no going back.”

  “I can’t give you what I don’t have,” Blondie said, still casting a wondering look at Quinn as she came to stand beside Arnaud.

  With more nonchalance than she felt, Quinn shrugged. “If he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know.”

  “Fine,” Arnaud said, taking the stake from her with his free hand. “Mind if I borrow this?”

  Before she could answer, he plunged it into Blondie’s heart, who immediately mimicked Muddy’s death dance. When Arnaud dropped him to the ground, he burst into a million tiny particles.

  “Are you alright?” Arnaud asked, suddenly there was concern in his eyes.

  Quinn shrugged, feeling exhausted. “I’m getting tired of this.”

  “As am I,” he said, pulling her to him. “Believe me.”

  She rested her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes. “I just want to sleep.”

  “I’ll take you home,” he whispered, picking her up.

  Not arguing, she almost fell asleep right there, before another thought entered her mind and jerked her back into gear. “Wait! My sister. He had her cell phone. I should … I should call and see if she’s alright. Maybe he was lying and he took her after all.”