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Soul to Shepherd

Page 12

by Linda Lamberson


  After explaining what had happened, Dylan confirmed he’d taken Quinn to find me at Holden Beach. We must’ve just missed each other.

  “Look, I was here,” Dylan began. “I can promise you Quinn didn’t write a note.”

  “But it was here. I wrote on the back of it,” I protested.

  “Maybe you just thought you saw a note,” Minerva offered.

  “I’m not crazy,” I snapped. “I know what I saw—what I held in my hand. There was definitely a note here, and it was definitely in Quinn’s handwriting. So either one of you is playing a trick on me, which I don’t find very amusing,” I said, glancing back and forth between Quinn and Dylan. “Or something else is really off here,” I said, unabashedly glaring at Minerva. Girl code, my ass—this chick was trouble with a capital ‘T,’ I thought to myself.

  “Let’s just take a deep breath for a moment and be glad you’re back safe and sound,” Dylan said, wrapping his arm protectively around Minerva and acting as if I didn’t just accuse his girlfriend of trying to sabotage me.

  “Aren’t you at all concerned about this mysterious note?” I asked him, annoyed. “Whoever wrote it forged Quinn’s handwriting perfectly, knew where he’d been just days ago and apparently knows where he is now.”

  “I can’t sense any demon trace, can you?” Dylan asked.

  I took a moment to survey our surroundings. “Well, no.”

  “And you’re sure those two Moon Mercenaries you met with didn’t follow you up here?” Dylan asked. I closed my eyes and shook my head, exhaling slowly in frustration. I should’ve known Quinn wouldn’t have kept the identity of Jaegar and Chase under wraps until I could tell Dylan about it.

  “Hypothetically speaking, even if they did,” I replied, “which they didn’t, how would they have had time to plant the note, much less copy Quinn’s handwriting and know any details about him? I just met them!”

  “Evie’s right,” Minerva stated. “This note is a problem. It means the Falls may have been compromised. We’re going to have to be more careful.”

  “Can we secure the entrance at all? Rig an alarm of some sort?” Quinn asked.

  “You mean like a booby trap?” Dylan smiled impishly.

  “You just love saying that word, don’t you?” Minerva chuckled.

  “Which word—you mean, ‘booby’?” Dylan chuckled alongside her. I looked at Quinn for any explanation, at all, as to why I was trapped in some screwed up version of an adolescent male Twilight Zone, but he just shrugged and shook his head.

  “What are you, like twelve?” I chided Dylan. “Can you do it?”

  “It’s possible,” Dylan replied, clearly still thinking about a certain part of the female anatomy. “I mean, we don’t really need one for demons ‘cause they stink like hell. But for anyone else? Probably. Everyone’s got to enter and leave through the same door. If we could get our hands on a barrier or a trip wire of some sort …”

  “Or a neutralizer,” I suggested.

  “A what?” Quinn asked.

  “While I was detained by the Council Tribunal, I was trapped in some sort of holding cell where I couldn’t use any of my powers. I couldn’t escape. If we could figure out how that works, if we can get our hands on whatever it is, we can use it to keep others out—or in—if they happen to wind up on the inside.”

  “Awesome idea! I’m on it!” Dylan offered.

  “Good.” I sighed, finally feeling a bit more relaxed. If we installed some sort of security system and weird stuff still kept happening, then there was only one culprit left to blame: Minerva.

  I glanced over at Minerva snuggling up to Dylan. They looked so happy together. He looked so happy. I really hoped I was wrong about her.

  “So, where’d you run off to in the Archives?” Dylan asked. “I looked for you up there, too, but couldn’t find you.”

  “I was looking for Tartuf, but I couldn’t find him. I ran into Tara though, and we talked for a while.”

  “I was really worried about you,” Quinn said, unmistakably concerned. “I thought those guys might have—” He pulled me into his arms and buried his face in my hair. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

  “Don’t ever do that to any of us,” Dylan added.

  “I won’t. I promise. I’m sorry I worried you,” I said, feeling guilty. “I really thought you knew where I was.”

  Quinn pulled back, cupped my face with his hands, and stared into my eyes. They were consumed with the fear and torment he’d been feeling. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, got it?” he whispered.

  “Back at you,” I whispered back. With his hands still on my cheeks, he kissed me so lovingly the world around us just seemed to melt away.

  Dylan cleared his throat, interrupting our moment. “So, do you have anything new to report?”

  “Yes,” I replied, looking directly in Quinn’s eyes. “Jaegar and Chase think they can help us. And,” I continued, smiling, “Tara told me the Council will no longer be interfering in our relationship. It seems they have a vested interest in our connection as true soul mates. So as long as no one finds out who or what I really am, they’ll leave us alone.”

  “Really?” Quinn’s eyes sparked with hope.

  “Yes, really.” I smiled even wider, my eyes never leaving his. “They feel they’re partly to blame for our not having already realized the full potential of our bond. And, as it’s also in their best interest for us to figure that out, they’re going to stand back and let us be together. Without the fear of reprisal hanging over our heads, they hope we’ll become closer.”

  “I have to say, I like the sound of that.” Quinn grinned devilishly.

  “So do I!” Dylan threw in. “Hey man, I see a lot of double dates in the near future!”

  Quinn rolled his eyes at Dylan, but I could see hope brimming in them. I knew Quinn wanted nothing more than for us to be like any other “normal” couple. It had been a long-standing issue between us, but it didn’t have to be anymore.

  “Dylan, do me a favor and don’t encourage him too much, okay?” I said telepathically, stealing a glance at Quinn. “Being out in the open with our relationship is one thing, but flaunting it in the faces of those who will be watching—and judging—me is another. Quinn and I still have to be careful.”

  “Careful, my ass! You two deserve this!” Dylan practically shouted the words inside my head.

  “Dylan!”

  “Okay, okay,” he agreed aloud as he cracked up.

  “What’s okay?” Minerva asked.

  I glared at Dylan to convey how serious I was about my request.

  “M, see that look in K.C.’s eyes?” Dylan chuckled. “That’s her classic ‘Don’t you dare push the limits on this one or I’m going to kick your ass’ look.”

  Minerva chuckled. When Quinn joined in on the laughter, I shot him a dirty look.

  “What?” he asked in his defense. “He totally nailed you.”

  “Okay,” I began, trying to change the subject. “So Dylan and Minerva are going to take off for awhile and meet us at your parents’ house later.”

  “We are?” Dylan asked.

  “Yes, you are,” I replied, smiling. “Quinn, what time should they get there?”

  “Five should work.” He glanced at me, then at Dylan, and then back at me again, trying to figure out what was going on. “I spoke with my parents. They’re going to head to the airport this afternoon.”

  “Cool,” Dylan replied. “Five it is.”

  “Five,” I repeated, mentally keeping track of my meeting with Jaegar and Chase a little later this evening.

  “Um, I should probably mention that my mom expects me to stay for a few days after they return,” Quinn added.

  “And when’s that?” I asked.

  “July tenth.”

  “That should be fine,” I said, glancing at Dylan and Minerva. “Don’t mention the eighteenth,” I said telepathically to both of them. “He doesn’t know yet.”

  “Y
eah, that should work,” Dylan said a little awkwardly, looking as though he was fighting a frown. Minerva also seemed to be masking her concern with a smile and a quick nod of her head.

  “Okay, so we’ll see you two later,” I said.

  “Sure thing. Hey, have fun you two.” Dylan winked. “Quinn, just holler out the portal door if you need anything.”

  “Hey, Dylan?” I called out telepathically. I looked down at Quinn’s and my intertwined fingers. I didn’t want to draw any additional attention to the telepathic conversation we were having.

  “Yeah?”

  “I want you to find a new portal for Quinn to stay in the week before the attack. And I don’t want you to tell anyone about it—not me, not Quinn, not anyone.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if this portal has been discovered by someone other than us, then Quinn’s more vulnerable to an attack—all of us are, really.”

  “I got that. What I don’t understand is why you don’t want to know the location of the new portal?”

  “If the Servants get to me beforehand, you know they’ll try to force the information out of me. And I doubt Quinn will keep the location a secret from me.”

  “And Minerva?” he asked cautiously.

  “I know you trust her, but just give me a chance to get to know her so I can trust her too. Until then, I don’t want her to know either.”

  “Evie—”

  “Please, Dylan, just do this for me.”

  “I’m only agreeing to this because I know you’ll come to trust her as much as I do.”

  “Thanks.” I looked up and smiled at him.

  “C’mon, M. Let’s get stealthy.” He winked. Taking her by the hand, Dylan and Minerva were gone before either Quinn or I could say goodbye.

  *

  Shortly after Dylan and Minerva left, I teleported Quinn to the campsite just outside of Jackson Hole to pick up his truck. But first, he insisted we walk around the city together. I was dressed the part with cowboy boots, sunglasses, and my hair in two braids peeking out from under a cowboy hat. I was certain my telling him we could finally act like a couple in public was a huge factor in his much-improved mood.

  We drove the Defender out of town and onto some gravel road that led to who knows where. Scenes from about twenty different horror movies were streaming through my mind as we made our way down the desolate stretch, and I was all too relieved to know I could get us out of there in the blink of an eye if necessary. Once we were sure there were no prying eyes, we pulled over and I teleported the truck onto an equally deserted rural road fifty miles outside Chicago so we could make the rest of the drive to Quinn’s hometown.

  It was three in the afternoon by the time we arrived at his parents’ house. I was happy to be able to relax and steal a couple of hours alone with Quinn before Dylan and Minerva showed up.

  Quinn dropped his bag down in the entryway and headed straight for the kitchen to make one of his “all-time greatest” sandwiches, devouring it while standing at the kitchen counter. He wanted to go for a quick dip in the pool and chased me around the backyard as we made our way to the pool house. I felt like a little kid. Every time he got within a few inches of me, I squealed excitedly and picked up my pace so he couldn’t catch me. When we reached the pool house, I ran to the side of it, out of view of any curious neighbors, and teleported myself inside. I heard Quinn hastily fumble with the key, but by the time he opened the door, I was already in the water.

  “There’s no escaping me now! Cannonball!” he roared as he ran towards the pool and jumped in, fully clothed. He plunged into the water, splashing everything around him. He swam underwater, surfacing mere inches from me before pulling me under with him and kissing me. He removed his t-shirt when we resurfaced, balling it up and lofting it onto a lounge chair by the side of the pool. He grabbed me and kissed me again.

  “What time is it?” he asked in between kisses.

  “Do you really care?” I grinned, wrapping my arms around his waist.

  “No.” He smiled back.

  Technically, Tara had given Quinn and me the freedom to explore the depths of our “emotional” relationship. And while an argument could be made that our physical intimacy was very much tied to our emotional growth, Tara’s earlier warnings about flaunting the “friendlier” aspects of my relationship with Quinn still rang loud and clear. Moreover, between the countless pairs of prying eyes I knew were watching us down here on the surface and the possibility of someone watching us in the Falls, I’d pick the portal over the pool house any day.

  *

  Dylan and Minerva showed up at Quinn’s parents’ house at five o’clock sharp. They rang the doorbell, which I could only assume was Minerva’s idea seeing as Dylan never announced his arrival.

  “Welcome to my humble abode,” Quinn greeted the two cheerfully.

  “Nice digs,” Dylan said with approval. “What’s your dad do again?”

  “He’s retired, but he was an investment banker.”

  “Well, he must’ve been a pretty damn good one! I mean look at this place!” Dylan remarked in awe.

  “Thanks for inviting us,” Minerva chimed in before Dylan could continue.

  “Hey, the way I see it, you’re doing us the favor by staying,” Quinn remarked.

  “Hello, Evie,” Minerva greeted me when she saw me standing on the staircase in the front entryway. Her makeup was flawless—not too much, just right for a breezy summer evening, right down to the powder-pink polish on her manicured fingers and pedicured toes. She was wearing a black strapless sundress that hugged every curve of her body down to her ankles.

  Unbelievable, I thought. A twinge of jealousy pricked me as I pictured what I must look like next to her. I was wearing a fitted, navy and white striped cotton sweater, white shorts and wedge sandals—something I’d copied straight from the pages of a magazine—and I still couldn’t compete in the fashion department.

  “Hello, Minerva. Thanks for coming,” I said politely.

  “Happy to be here.” She smiled radiantly.

  Admittedly, Minerva seemed genuine enough, but I still didn’t trust her. There were too many red flags. There was the recent issue with the mysterious, disappearing note. And then there was the question of how she’d managed to get Dylan, a devoted lover of all females, to fall so quickly and hopelessly for her. For that matter, of all the Watchers out there, why was she the one assigned to Quinn? Was it to make Dylan fall for her?

  How could she even be all that interested in Dylan? Other than their obvious good looks, I couldn’t see anything they had in common. She looked like a fashionista who belonged in London or Paris. And Dylan? Dylan was … Dylan. He was almost ten years her junior. A surfer who loved animals and the outdoors. Material possessions meant nothing to him. He couldn’t care less if his clothes came from the Salvation Army. In fact, he’d probably prefer to walk around naked. Plus, he was a big-time player whose “little black book” was probably the size of the Manhattan phone book! So what in the world made her ever suspect he was boyfriend material in the first place?

  “Why don’t I show you around?” I offered her, trying to mask my mistrust with etiquette.

  “That’d be great,” Minerva replied enthusiastically.

  “I want to see this pool house Quinn keeps bragging about,” Dylan teased.

  “Ladies, I’ll take Dylan on the abbreviated tour.” Quinn smiled at me. Immediately, I felt the heat swell in my belly as I flashed back to the last couple of hours we’d spent in the portal. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly to calm myself.

  “Go for it,” I smiled.

  “Meet you out there?” Quinn asked.

  I nodded and turned to Minerva. “Ready for the grand tour?”

  “Lead the way.”

  *

  Twenty minutes later, Minerva and I found Quinn and Dylan playing a game of one-on-one volleyball in the pool—only they seemed to have added a water polo component.

  “Care to jo
in us?” Dylan asked.

  “And interrupt your fun?” Minerva responded playfully.

  “Yeah, I think we’ll pass,” I chimed in.

  “Why don’t Evie and I meet you two out on the patio when you’re ready for a break?” Minerva offered.

  The guys didn’t even respond. They were too busy trying to grab possession of the volleyball, which had escaped their clutches and floated away while they were trying to dunk each other. I was happy to see Dylan exercising self-control during this alpha-male display of strength and skill. He could’ve easily overpowered Quinn, but he was restraining himself, making it a fair fight—well, relatively fair.

  Minerva and I walked over to the flagstone patio off of the kitchen. I followed her to one of the two small groupings of lounge chairs and sat down next to her. As much as we both pretended to relax and enjoy nature’s serenade of crickets that welcomed the evening’s arrival, there was an awkward silence filling the air between us.

  “I know what you must be thinking,” Minerva said, finally breaking the tension.

  “And what’s that?”

  “You’re wondering why I’m here.”

  “Yes, I am,” I replied frankly.

  “I’m here because I want to help. You and Quinn are Dylan’s friends. He cares about the two of you, and I care about him. I don’t want to see him get hurt if anything should happen to either of you.”

  Too smooth, I said to myself. Too rehearsed. There has to be more to it than that.

  “I know you’re sitting there, dissecting my answer. You’re questioning whether you should trust me. I would, too, if I were in your shoes. There’s too much at stake not to.”

  “So, then, what would you do if you were in my position?” I asked curiously.

  “I would ask myself, ‘Why now?’ Why did this girl show up in Dylan’s life at the exact moment all hell is about to break loose? What’s her agenda? What is she after? Is she a friend or foe?” She paused and looked at me. “Am I close?”

  “Spot on, actually.”

  “Well, in response to why I showed up when I did, all I can tell you is it was the luck of the draw. I was assigned to Quinn’s case as his Watcher—plain and simple. Dylan’s and my relationship was just a byproduct of wheels already set in motion.”

 

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