Stunned. She couldn’t form a comeback for that. Instead, she allowed him to walk her into a massive bathroom, where he deposited her onto the tiled floor.
“Thank you,” she managed to get out. “Is this yours?” In a shaving kit next to the sink was a comb.
“You’re welcome to use anything in here you can find. There might be some hair gel underneath the sink in that cabinet too.”
“Hah—gel. That’s… ooh, so precious. Like that and this flimsy comb could do anything. She’d give it her best and pray. Okay, get out and let me work some magic on this head.”
He left and closed the door behind him. That was thoughtful. When she turned back around to see her reflection in the mirror, a yelp of shock and embarrassment sprang up and out. Not only was Quinn’s hair standing up on end, but she also had crust around her eyes and a wee bit of drool on the side of her mouth. She was going to kill him. Lucien had to be playing a game. There was no way he was that into her, not looking like this. This was a game she’d figure out. Then she’d make him rue the day he decided to mess with her heart right after she got a shower and her dignity back.
17
Quinn…
“Please pass the butter?” Wren asked, eyeing Quinn with extreme curiosity.
The two women sat at opposite ends of the smaller set of connected tables. Lucien informed her that an earlier crew of the men, Jax, and Hildy had already eaten, done some morning sparring and were out running errands. That left Matt, Wren, Greg, Lucien and Quinn at the breakfast gathering.
A trickle of water rolled down from her wet hair onto the side of her face. Quinn attempted to broadcast composure and innocence. Her hair was still wet from an unsuccessful attempt at taming it during a quick shower in Lucien’s bathroom.
Unlike Wren, who had beautiful soft spirals of obedient curls, Quinn’s hair was as wild and adventurous as her. Today, her hair was hell-bent and determined to escape the confines of a pitiful scrunchie she’d gotten from the gym bag yesterday. It had been flimsy at best when she’d used it to pile her thick mass on the top of her head during their self-defense class. Today, the scrunchie was on the verge of giving up the ghost with the amount of strain Quinn had used to get it to hold her hair as tight as possible.
She’d sat away from the others. Her hair could break free at any moment and poke someone’s eye out with the scrunchie flying projectile. Lucien sat next to her—close—taking the prolonged health of his eyes into his cocky hands. He was working that whole smitten angle for dear life. Quinn wasn’t buying it completely. No way was a man as fine and powerful as Lucien going to fall this fast for her. He didn’t know anything about her. But, if he wanted to take wellbeing of his eyes into his hands like this, so be it. She’d pointed to the still dripping mane with a warning look.
“The struggle is real, all day every day. You may want to back up,” she said, noting how his heat continued to envelop her with his closeness.
His response had been to laugh it off. “I’ve bested better than that piece of material you call a scrunchie.”
“When you end up in an emergency room, it would be all on you. Lucien, you’ve got high odds of becoming a video meme for the attack of the scrunchie.”
His laugh was low, sensuous, and meant for her ears only. Laughter at the other end of the table had her straining to hear what the group talked about. Matt, with his life-of-the-party ass, was entertaining them. It was some story about whipping Lucien’s brother, named Nolan’s, ass at something. Ajax’s hearty laugh filled the area much like his older brother, Lucien’s when he spoke.
The family resemblance was strong amongst all the brothers. Lucien’s brothers favored his dark, mysterious looks. In contrast, Matt and his brothers all looked like rugged Vikings. She could see why Wren might be into Matt. He was a dirty blond stunner when he wasn’t rubbing Quinn the wrong way. Matt seemed like he was always trying to handle people with some snake charm of his. She wasn’t fooled and wouldn’t fall for it like her friend most likely had.
Spidey senses hadn’t picked up any major change in Wren’s demeanor. She was still a bit green and fawning over Matt. This morning it was sort of cute, instead of irritating. Quinn had ignored Wren’s questioning looks a few times, opting to be quiet and eat.
She didn’t show any affection toward Lucien and he didn’t push the issue. Good thing too, because Quinn wasn’t sure she could handle anymore scrutiny from the others. Every move she made, they watched. Biting into a buttered english muffin and closing her eyes in pleasure was meant to be that—enjoying her food. What it turned out to be was four sets of eyes staring at her as if she was making love to it on the table for all to see.
“I’m happy you’re enjoying the breakfast. Miss Connie’s cooking is what fuels us most of the time,” the one named Greg said.
She liked this one. He wasn’t too much of a talker and didn’t have that meddlesome vibe like his brother, Matt. That meant Greg rocked in her book. That didn’t translate into her wanting to have a long conversation with him, though. Quinn nodded, gave her best isn’t-it-lovely-weather-we’re-having? smile and stuck a big piece of the buttered morsel of perfection into her mouth. Instead of turning his attention elsewhere, the guy continued to watch. Quinn tried to gracefully maneuver around the big piece of bread without chewing with her mouth open.
“All right Greg, you’re staring at her,” Lucien said, placing a huge hand on her thigh under the table again.
Weird mixtures of enjoyment, embarrassment, and exasperation flooded her wherever they touched. Quinn didn’t know whether to punch or jump him for being so freaking enthralled by him. His continual obsession with touching drove her nuts—if only she’d gotten a chance to get him out of her system last night. Torture was a petty bitch. She loved to drag shit out. That was Quinn’s current situation—torture. Instead of cooling down, her entire body throbbed with want. No, scratch that, it was needed for Lucien to end her ache of longing.
Was this some Love Jones spell? What was going on here? Had she been cast in some urban legend, told as a cautionary tale? Quinn didn’t want to star as the stupid girl falling for the no-good guy. Try as she might, Quinn had a hard time casting Lucien as the jerk she desperately needed him to be. The longer they sat here, the harder it was for her to get her things and walk out that front door.
Something about Lucien was still an enigma to her. He might not be the jerk she wanted, but there was a part of him that hid from her. Bits and pieces of her dreams from last night flittered in and out of her consciousness. Lucien was more than he projected. That was the part that made her have the real issue with his interest in her. Quinn didn’t want the other shoe to drop and devastate her. Lucien was too much of everything. Any more time with him would only lead her down another road to ruin. He might be more dangerous than Craig ever could imagine being.
There was no time for fuzzy thinking. Quinn had to get her ass in gear. Today wasn’t going to get any younger. Her bank account wasn’t going to climb back from the land of negatives sitting here lusting over Lucien. No sooner had her thought dissipated than two of the guys from last night came in. They motioned for Lucien to come over. Quinn fought the urge to meow and purr when he looked at her. Did he know how wet that made her? Him with that questioning eye on if she’d be okay while he went with the men.
“Go, I’ll be fine.” A bit of relief came over her at his departure. His time away from her side would give Quinn the chance to finish up. She’d leave before getting lost in the magnetic pull that was Lucien.
She watched his muscles ripple with a grace unusual for his size as he got up to join the others. As if picking up on her thoughts, he said, “Don’t try to leave. I’ll be right over there.”
It was past time to shut this down. “Lucien, I have things to do. I can’t stick around here up under you all day.”
“And why not? What if I want to be ‘up under you,’ as you say it?”
Quinn wouldn’t give up. Visions of missed
money opportunities were starting to dance in her head. Pointing to where the other guys stood, she gave him a push on one of his muscular thighs. Quinn said, “Stop making fun of my expressions and go see what they want.”
He smiled making her question the sanity of leaving him so soon. But, she knew the haze of Lucien would break as soon as she got a chance to distance herself from him. With him a good ten feet away, she popped the last bite of buttered perfection into her mouth. Quinn was about to stand up to leave when a sight outside the large windows made her choke.
Blinking and rubbing her eyes to clear whatever it was playing tricks on her, Quinn sQuinnted, looking at an impossible scene. She heard more than felt the chair crash as she bolted up from it.
“What the hell! Is that Hildy and Ajax?” She pointed at what looked like an angel version of Hildy with large wings and long talons for hands and feet. If that wasn’t enough, the creature held Ajax in her grasp, lifting him up in the air. Based on their height, it had to be more than fifteen feet in the air.
Quinn pointed a shaky finger and said, “Somebody help him. That creature has him and is escaping. Somebody, please—we’ve got to save Ajax from that—is it Hildy?”
The rest of the room seemed more concerned with her reaction than the spectacle happening outside. When her eyes locked on Wren’s, her friend wore a look that said she was tripping.
Wren rose slowly, with a hand up toward Quinn, as if to calm her down from a bad dream. “Honey, look at me.” Wren’s voice was soft and the one she used when Quinn was getting high strung over something. “Quinny, you want to look over here, at me.”
Quinn wanted to make her see. This was happening. She wasn’t hallucinating. There was a bird creature flying outside with Ajax in it’s clutches. “Wren, please tell me you see that,” she said, pointing again to the huge windows that took up a great amount of two stories of the building.
Wren looked out the window, but there was nothing there now. “Quinny, I’m going to take a few steps toward you. I want you to look at me. I can explain what you think you saw.”
“Think I saw?” Quinn’s entire body hummed with fight receptors. They were in danger and Wren was losing her damn mind. Before she could say anything else, Lucien was back at her side, folding her into his massive chest. “Let go of me! I’ve got to get out of here. This isn’t right, and you’ve done something to Wren’s mind.” Quinn pushed hard, freeing herself from the grip Lucien had on her.
Turning to see how hard it would be to fight her way out of here, Quinn took a few steps back to put her back close to the wall.
Lucien took a step forward.
“Don’t do it. I’m going to leave. If anyone tries to stop me, I’ll—I’ll do something none of you will like,” she said, eyeing the table for sharp objects and only finding plastic utensils.
Greg spoke up, “Quinn, please come back to the table and sit down. Lucien and I can and will answer any questions you have about what you just saw.”
“So you believe me?” she asked, as her back collided with the brick wall.
“Of course we do. We all do,” Lucien said, taking another step toward her.
“Stay back! I’m not staying here any longer. Something’s not right, and I’m not going to stick around to find out what. Never was into those twisted psychological thriller movies. I’m not trying to become a cast member of a real life one either. Lucien, if you don’t want that gorgeous face of yours clawed out, you’ll move.”
Sounds coming from the door interrupted her next words of a threat as Hildy and Ajax rushed in.
“What’s going on?” they said in unison, running over to see Quinn posted up against the wall.
“Wait, what happened to your wings and those claw talon things you had. I saw you. You were a beast trying to kill Ajax.” Nothing made sense. The pressure and tension of trying to make it palatable threatened to make her head spin. Looking around to everyone she attempted to convince them. “You have to believe me.” Quinn pointed to Hildy, finger shaky. “She’s a beast with wings and these huge talons on her hands and feet. She’s dangerous. Please tell me you believe me, please?”
Hildy took a step forward, and Quinn threw up the sign of the cross. Wren inched closer as Quinn shot her a warning look.
“Everyone stand down. Please Quinn, take a few breaths in and out. You can see that Ajax is right here. No blood and he’s fine. See…” Matt said, pointing to Ajax.
Ajax turned around in a circle and motioned to his body, noting that he was fine. Everything was wrong. No one believed her.
“Quinn… Quinny, trust me we can explain what you saw. Why don’t you come back and sit so we can talk?” Matt said. Quinn felt a strange desire to obey him for a split second until she remembered who was speaking.
“Look you silver tongued devil or whatever you are, don’t call me that. You know what? How ‘bout you shut the hell up, Matt. Unlike Wren, your verbal voodoo ain’t gonna work on me. Not today son,” she said, liking the chance to tell Matt off.
“Hey, not cool, Quinny,” she heard Wren say. “But seriously please listen to him. Ajax is fine, and Hildy is right here.”
“I don’t know what they managed to do to you last night, Wren, but you’ve clearly drunk their brand of Kool-aid. I’m out of here. Don’t anyone try to stop me.”
Her body took over from there, propelling her toward the door. Fuck it all. She had to get out of here. If they wanted someone to screw around with, they could have Wren. Surprisingly, no one tried to stop her. Once she swung one of the large doors open, a gush of cold air slapped the shit out of her. Quinn didn’t miss a beat though. The cold was better than being in that fun house of crazy.
She made it out to where she’d parked her car last night. Quinn prayed there was enough of an electrical charge to get on the highway and get out of the city. At the edge of the property, next to the street, were the SUV Hildy drove last night and a few other trucks off in the distance. Making a 360 degrees turn, she looked for her baby, her car.
Nothing.
Prickles of dread inched up the back of her neck causing the hair to stand on end. Where was her car? Quinn eyed the Diner across the street to see nothing out of the ordinary. She wanted to run for it, but heard the commotion of the others coming up behind her. It was Wren who reached her and grabbed her from behind to spin her around.
“Quinny, look at me. You need to come back inside. You aren’t dressed to be out here in the cold like this.”
It took a moment for her meaning to sink in. When the wind licked at the still dripping wetness of her hair and punctured the opening of the sweater she wore, Quinn’s mental sharpness came back with a vengeance.
“It’s gone, Wren. They caught up with me and now my car’s gone.”
Wren enveloped her in a sisterly hug. As they swayed back and forth in mutual loss over the car and freedom to move about, Quinn caught Lucien’s eyes on her. The weight of embarrassment, shame and vulnerable exposure overtook her. Burying her head into Wren’s shoulder, she sobbed and clung tight.
Would he think of her as some wanna be hood rat trying to pose and posture? Her car had been repossessed out of his front yard, and she had nothing to fall back on. There was seventy dollars to her name and currently snuggled deep down in a hidden pocket of her purse. That wouldn’t be enough to get a one-way bus ticket out of town.
Too many questions and thoughts of what to do crashed down at once. What to do about her things that were in the car? How would she pay her cell phone bill to stay in touch with potential clients? How was she going to break the news to her sister? Could she move back in with her? If so, how would she get a way to her sister’s? What were these people? Was she in danger? Would they try to brainwash her, like Wren? And on and on; the thoughts came rushing in all at once.
It took a moment for it to register that she’d been lifted off her feet and was being carried back into the gym. Looking up, it was the chest that met her eyes first. Lucien carried her wit
h the ease of a Sunday stroll. Too overwhelmed and ashamed to protest, she sunk her head down into the crook of his arm, as he made it back into the building. All sense of orientation about her life was gone. She was stranded. If they meant her harm, then so be it. They could have at it. Quinn had no oomph left in her to reason a way out of this. She was broke, at the mercy of strangers, and being carried back into a place that wasn’t her home. On top of all this, there was no telling who or what these people were.
18
Lucien…
Lucien kicked one of the doors to the Lair open wider. He made it back inside with a stone stiff Quinn cradled in his arms. Back in the large main room, the change in the atmosphere was immediate. Its acrid bitterness hit him and his Dragon square in the gut.
Unbelievable.
Looking past the mats and table towards the Octagon, his senses locked in on the problem. Years of battle strategy and Dragon wisdom rushed to the forefront of his mind. Lowering the intensity of the wards, Lucien would implore patience for that little problem to rectify itself. Better yet, instead of dealing with it, he’d defer to his second. As usual Greg was in sync with his assessment and took the lead. Greg sent him mental reassurance that the situation would be monitored and handled.
Thanking the Goddess yet again for his cousin and friend, Greg, he was free to devote his attention to his mate. She was in shock. Unable to find another way to channel his frustration at seeing her like this, Lucien roared more than spoke as he barked the words out.
“Everyone, meet upstairs in the meeting area in an hour. Be prepared to answer for how this happened. Look at her. She’s in shock.”
Wren jumped at the volume and intensity of his command, but it would be Matt’s job to console her if she needed that sort of thing. Quinn’s well-being was his focus and primary concern.
Lucien: Dragofin Mated: Book 2 (Dragonfin Clan Mated) Page 14