Quinn

by D. B. Reynolds

He turned his attention back to the current criminal endeavor. He had an excellent view, since the boat had come into dock just slightly left of the café. Shifting his chair back from the window a bit, he put himself into a deeper shadow, lest one of the smugglers happen to look the wrong way. The two male vamps exchanged a few words with the human running the boat. A bulging envelope of cash traded hands, the captain called down below decks, and then another human emerged to begin passing sealed cases up to the two local vamps. The unloading went quickly. There were only five of the medium-sized cases, and once they were all sitting on the floating dock, the boat quickly maneuvered out of the slip and back into the harbor. Quinn wasn’t at the right angle to see where it went next, whether to some other slip within the harbor, or out beyond the breakwater, but that wasn’t his concern. The cases had been too small to carry enough guns to make the trip worthwhile, which meant the shipment was probably drugs. Most likely meth­amphetamine, since that was where the greatest profits lay. Quinn wanted to know where the smuggled goods went next. Did Sorley’s people drive the delivery directly to Dublin, to be cut and distributed? Or was there a local distributor who dealt with Dublin’s many suburbs? For that matter, was it raw product? Or already cut and packed for sale?

  And when the fuck had he become an expert on the illegal drug trade? The answer to that was simple. He wasn’t. Which was why he was in Howth. How to be a drug lord in three simple steps. Frankly, he had no interest in becoming a drug kingpin, but change took time. If his plan for the Irish vampire community worked out, he hoped to eliminate drug smuggling as a vamp enterprise within a decade—an instant in time for a vampire. But for now, it was an important part of the vampire economy, so he needed to know how it worked. Because the first step on his road to becoming Lord of Ireland was to insinuate himself into Sorley’s inner circle by taking over what was an important part of the vampire lord’s business—the Howth smuggling operation.

  The sound of raised voices drew his attention outside the window, where there seemed to be trouble in paradise. The two vampires, who’d been so chatty before, now appeared to be having a difference of opinion about how best to move the newly arrived goods off the dock. The bigger of the two vamps lifted a single case, as if weighing it. And from the ease of his lift, Quinn would guess it didn’t weigh much. Not for a vampire, anyway. But the vamp’s buddy seemed to disagree. He clearly wanted to fetch a dolly or some other wheeled conveyance and move all five cases at once.

  Quinn sided with the big guy. They were vampires, for fuck’s sake. They could carry all of that in a single trip. They didn’t need a fucking dolly. Maybe the question had to do with leaving one vamp alone with the drugs, while the other brought the cart. Maybe they didn’t trust each other. Or were they concerned about a competitor’s attack? After all, the reason they were doing this in Howth was to circumvent the gangs who controlled the drug trade in Dublin.

  An unhappy thought suddenly occurred to him. Did they know, or suspect, that he was hanging around? Was that why they were reluctant to split up? He frowned. He was confident no one knew he was in the country, other than the people who’d helped him get there. But it never paid to be overconfident. He didn’t know everyone who’d helped him, or who’d helped them. There could easily be an informant at work.

  The two vamps were still arguing, and Quinn was contemplating going out there and killing them both, just to get the night over with, when they abruptly stopped arguing and turned to grin at something out of his line of sight. Quinn changed position within the dark café just in time to catch the completely unexpected arrival of a sexy redheaded female. Human, no doubt about it. And what the hell was she doing out there alone at this time of night, and dressed the way she was?

  From the top of her red head to the tips of her shiny leather boots, and everything in between, she practically screamed vampire bait. The theme of the night was black leather, with a faux fur collar on her black leather jacket adding a flirtatious note to the outfit. And that’s exactly what she was doing, flirting with the two hulking vampires. The woman clearly had seduction in mind, and Quinn couldn’t help wondering what the fuck she was thinking. But, his two vampire thugs seemed more than willing to be seduced.

  Placing a coy hand on one thuggish chest, the woman said something short and to the point, then smiled and walked away. Two hard gazes swiveled to watch the sway of her hips until she disappeared into a narrow alleyway where it headed up the hill to intersect with Howth’s main street—where all the storefronts were closed and shut­tered for the night. There would be no one around. No witnesses.

  The two vampires clearly came to the same conclusion. Drugs forgotten, they exchanged quick grins and, all but flashing fang in their eagerness, took off after her. Oddly enough, the ease with which the two vamps had left the smuggled goods sitting on the dock reassured Quinn that Sorley’s people didn’t know he was in Howth and watching their every move. But his biggest concern right now was the woman being pursued by the two very large vampires. If she was lucky, they’d feed while fucking her senseless, and maybe leave some money on the dresser. If she was unlucky, they’d still fuck her, but her body would be found bloodless and floating in the harbor.

  Quinn told himself it was none of his business. The woman had invited the pursuit, and even if she hadn’t known the two males were vampires, they were still obviously bad news. But a moment later, he was pushing his chair back. His mother hadn’t raised him to leave even clueless women to their fates. Abandoning his fresh pot of tea, and cursing himself for a fool with every step, he took off after them.

  He slowed when he neared the alley. He had enough functioning brain cells for that. What he was calling an “alley” was simply a very narrow passage that climbed the steep hill between one street and the next. Stuck between two very old buildings, it was too narrow for any kind of vehicle, barely wide enough for walking, and too dark for most humans to feel safe at night. There was no light of any kind in there, no lit windows, no public lamps, just old brick walls, lots of dirt, and an overflowing garbage bin or two thrown in for good measure. He frowned. Why the hell would a woman alone walk this way? And where the hell was she?

  A familiar scent abruptly wafted through the air. Blood. And something else that had his fangs trying to slide over his lower lip, uncaring of who saw. Forcing his fangs under control and out of sight, he drew a deeper breath and scowled, just as the young woman tripped into sight from the deepest, darkest part of the alley, the spiked heels of her leather boots—so impractical on the uneven streets and wooden docks—making it difficult for her to gain a firm foothold as she hurried back down the steep incline. Her gaze was focused on the rough surface beneath her feet and the shadows all around, so she didn’t notice him at first. But then her survival instincts finally kicked in, and she looked up sharply, realizing that she wasn’t alone. She raised a hand, and his vampire sight caught the gleam of a blade covered in blood. And not just any blood, but vampire blood, which would dust tomorrow morning in the sunlight, but for now remained very much red and wet. It wasn’t the blood that drew his attention, however. It was that other scent, the one that had brought every one of his defensive instincts to high alert.

  The woman was covered in dust. Dust that had been two vampires before they’d followed her into that alley.

  Quinn stared. What the fuck?

  Chapter Three

  “OH! YOU STARTLED ME.” Eve took a step back, covering her gasp with a trembling hand, as if the man’s sudden appearance had truly startled her. As if. She’d just dispatched two burly vampire thugs. Her first double kill. A lone human male wasn’t even a blip in her pulse rate. Still, she eyed him carefully, searching for any sign that he was other than he appeared. But there was no trace of fang, and none of the predatory arrogance that she associated with vampires. Plus, she’d never seen him before, and she knew every vampire in Howth, at least by sight. Especially the ones who hung aroun
d the docks late at night in order to greet certain sneaky boat captains.

  “Sorry,” the man said, stepping back politely, to give her more room. “I thought I heard a ruckus and wanted to help.”

  “A ruckus, was it?” Eve wanted to laugh at the word choice, but he seemed so very sincere that she didn’t want to hurt his tender, knight-to-the-rescue feelings. “You’re American,” she said, looking up, way up, to meet a pair of remarkably blue eyes. Crystal blue, and gleaming like fine glass in the dim light from the dock. He smiled—a perfectly white, very American smile—and she felt her heart flutter. It was embarrassing, but there was no other word for what her heart was doing. He was more than handsome. He had . . . She didn’t have a word for it. Some people would call it “charisma” or “sex appeal.” She only knew it made her want to get closer to him. A lot closer. And maybe naked.

  “Guilty as charged,” he admitted. “But born in Ireland, I’ll have you know.”

  His voice was as striking as his looks, a smooth growl that made her nipples hard. Eve stared wordlessly, trying to deal with her reaction. It had been months since she’d had anything to do with a man, other than the vampires she’d killed. And they weren’t really men. She hadn’t had sex with anyone in . . . fuck, it had been years not months. So, why her reaction to this guy? Sure, he was good-looking. More than that, if she was honest. His hair was styled in a longish razor cut, trimmed on the sides, longer on top, and it was the color of dark honey. The kind of blond that had probably been paler when he was young. And those remarkable eyes. His looks alone would have drawn attention, but it didn’t hurt that he was such a big man. Not just tall, but broad-shoul­dered and firmly muscled. A man who looked like he could handle himself in a fight. A man who’d stepped up in the middle of the night to defend a woman he didn’t know. She hadn’t needed his help, but he didn’t know that.

  “You’ve come back to our fair country to claim your heritage, then?” She heard the flirty lilt in her voice and wondered where the hell that had come from.

  “I don’t have a heritage to speak of. No lords in my family history,” he said, still smiling. He glanced over her shoulder into the shadows of the narrow passageway, but she wasn’t worried. There was nothing left of the two vamps, but dust. “You’re all right, then?” he asked, looking concerned. “I thought I saw two very dangerous-looking guys following you.”

  “Oh, them. Just a couple of lads I know. Friends of my brother, actually. They’ve just come in from a long run at sea and are blowing off steam. They like to talk but they’re harmless.”

  He studied her a moment, and she wondered what he saw. Eve had a mirror. Her looks were still there, still enough to attract men, but she’d changed. The last five years had hardened her. Gone were the soft cheeks and innocent gaze of the university student she’d been before her brother died. Grief lived in her eyes now. And death. She didn’t fool herself into thinking the killing she’d done was anything but murder. Sure, they were vampires, monsters. But the law recognized them as people. If she were ever caught, she’d be imprisoned for life. Assuming the vampires permitted it to get that far. More likely, the local vampire lord would lock her up in a dark room and torture her for a very long time. The possibility should have worried her, but that would mean feeling something. And she hadn’t done that since her brother’s funeral.

  Which was why her reaction to the handsome American was so unsettling.

  “Well, nice meeting you—”

  “But we didn’t,” he interrupted quickly. “Meet, that is. I’m Quinn Kavanagh.” He held out a hand.

  Eve looked at his proffered hand. She didn’t meet many Americans in her regular life. Her side job of doing research for grad students who had the money, or the parents, to pay others to do their work for them, sometimes included non-Irish clients, including Americans. But since her work was almost exclusively online, she rarely met any of them in person, either.

  So, she didn’t know quite what to think of Quinn Kavanagh. A fine Irish name, if it was real. And why wouldn’t it be? Just because she was a criminal, that didn’t mean everyone else was. She slipped her hand into his, feeling the rough skin of his palm and fingers as they closed around her much smaller, but equally calloused, digits. She practiced a lot with her knife, and it showed. She waited for the crushing handshake. So many men tended to do that, as if wanting, or needing, to establish dominance from the very beginning. As if she wasn’t already aware of their greater size and strength. But Kavanagh’s shake was carefully calibrated to be firm, but not crushing. It was a warm, enveloping exchange of pressure that somehow managed to be reassuring instead of overwhelming. Her heart did that damn fluttering again.

  “Eve,” she said simply, not offering her last name. Her heart might be smitten with this handsome American, but he was still a stranger, probably just come from the pub, and she was still engaged in some questionable behavior in her off hours.

  “Can I walk you home, Eve? I wouldn’t want you to run into any more of those overfriendly lads.”

  “Not necessary,” she said instantly. “It’s not far, and I can—”

  “I’m not trying to insult you. I’m sure you can handle yourself just fine. But my parents raised me the old-fashioned way, and that means a gentleman never leaves a lady to walk alone on a dark street.”

  That sparked a real smile from Eve. “What makes you think I’m a lady?”

  His remarkable eyes gleamed in a newfound shaft of moonlight. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  Eve blinked. There was private knowledge in those eyes. Did he know about her vampire hunts? Was he Garda, the Republic’s national police force, after all? She frowned. Impossible. He was definitely American, with that accent, the perfect teeth and hair. Even his clothes were finely made, for all they were casual. Why not let him walk her home? There had to be more to life than stab, stab, stab, right? She grinned at her own tasteless joke.

  He caught the grin and gestured toward the street behind him. “Which way, my lady?”

  QUINN STUDIED THE woman as they walked slowly down the deserted streets. Howth rolled up the sidewalks early on weeknights. He could still hear faint sounds from the local pub, but these were the suburbs. Families lived here, wanting away from the hubbub of the city, while still being close enough to commute to work. Not exactly Quinn’s scene, but he could be anyone he needed to be. Even before he’d been turned, he’d been good at that, at showing people what they wanted to see. Lovers and girlfriends in the past had criticized him, saying he was emotionally unavailable, whatever the fuck that meant. And now? Well, hell, he was a vampire lord. He could wrap himself in power and make people see whatever he wanted them to. He wasn’t putting that much effort into it tonight, however. He was simply making sure that the lovely Miss Eve of the unknown last name didn’t realize she was walking home with a vampire.

  She’d done him an unwitting favor by killing the two thugs, but that didn’t make her innocent. Why had she done it, and how? She was an unknown. A random factor he hadn’t counted on, and Quinn didn’t like random. He could make her talk, of course. He could seduce her, fuck her. Hell, he’d do whatever it took to become the next Lord of Ireland.

  Not that seducing Eve would be a burden. She was a beautiful woman, with moody dark eyes and long, red hair that caressed the pale curve of full breasts beneath her black leather top. Her short, tight skirt showed off legs that were slender and well-toned, and even those spike-heeled boots could only make her tall enough that her head hit his chest. Sexy as hell. Certainly the sexiest woman he’d met since arriving here. But it was more than her looks. An indefinable ping against his vampire senses was telling him something that told him that Eve was more than she appeared.

  Oh, yeah, we can’t forget that part, he reminded himself with an inward grin. This eminently fuckable woman had just killed two vampires and had nothing but a slightly elevated heart rate t
o show for it. He’d intended to kill those two himself as he moved up the chain of Sorley’s command. But he couldn’t ignore the fact that she’d killed them, instead. What was her role in all of this? Whom did she work for? Because Buffy didn’t exist in real life. There was no organization of watchers who kept track of vampires and sent out killer cheerleaders. If Eve was hunting vampires on behalf of some shadowy organization, he needed to find out what it was and shut them down. And if she was doing it on her own, then the shutting down might very well include Eve herself.

  Though, he’d really like to fuck her first.

  “You live alone then?” he asked, as they turned to climb another hill. Howth was a city of hillside streets, many of them old and narrow.

  “Who says I live alone?”

  Quinn rolled his eyes inwardly. She was a combative little thing. “No one. That’s why I asked the question,” he said smoothly.

  She gave a breathy laugh. “My mam lives down the way, but you’re right, I live alone. It’s a small place, but at least it’s quiet.”

  Quinn smiled to himself. He could understand that. He’d loved his folks, but he hadn’t lived with them since his first year of college.

  “Is it safe for you to live alone here? I’m still learning this area.”

  “Safe enough. You’re thinking about those two earlier. I told you. They’re harmless.”

  Quinn was a damn powerful vampire. He could spot a lie as easily as breathing, and even if he hadn’t already known the particulars, he’d have known Eve was lying through her pretty little teeth. He could push her to tell him what he wanted to know. Telepathy came with being a vampire. The stronger the vampire, the stronger the telepathy, and the greater the ability to use it. But he didn’t want to use it on Eve. There was no urgency yet. It wasn’t as if she was going to take on the entire vampire establishment of Dublin all on her own. Hell, if she tried to force her way into Sorley’s Dublin headquarters, she’d be dead before she cleared the first gate, no matter how sharp her knife was. Oh, yeah, he hadn’t forgotten the shiny blade she’d slipped into the sheath on her firm thigh, barely hidden beneath that tiny skirt. Nor the calluses he’d felt on her fingers when they’d shaken hands. But there wasn’t a knife in the world that could stand up to a machine-gun toting vampire or two.