Soul to Shepherd

by Linda Lamberson

  “Okay, so you were right. But I want to try something. C’mon.” Quinn grabbed my hand and entered the store, heading straight for the cashier with me tagging along beside him.

  “Hey there,” Quinn greeted the cashier, who nodded disinterestedly in return. “I was wondering if you could help me out. You know that guy who sits outside the store and peddles the local homeless paper out there?”

  “Who, Ronald?” the middle-aged man asked.

  “Yeah, that’s him.”

  “Yeah, I see him from time to time.”

  “You do? Excellent,” Quinn replied enthusiastically. “Could you do me a favor?” Quinn pulled out a ten-dollar bill, grabbed the pen sitting on the counter and wrote something on the bill. Then he folded it up and proceeded to pull out a twenty. “I owe him some money for a few papers, and I feel really bad about it. Could you give him this ten the next time you see him?” Quinn handed him the bill. “And here’s a twenty for your trouble,” he added, handing the cashier the other bill.

  “Yeah, sure,” the cashier said a little more eagerly. “That’s real decent of you.”

  “Thanks, I really appreciate it. Have a good night,” Quinn said as he took my hand and led me out the door.

  “You too!” the cashier called out as we opened the umbrella and ran down to the street corner.

  “What did you write on the ten for Ronald?” I asked Quinn when we returned to his bedroom. I carried the dripping umbrella into his bathroom and dumped it into the bathtub.

  “Long time, no see—Q and E.”

  “That’s it?” I asked, walking over to him.

  “What was I supposed to write? ‘SOS—we’re screwed’?” Quinn joked. “You know that cashier is going to read it, and I didn’t want him thinking we’re nuts or that this is some kind of joke. Besides, it’s not the message that matters, it’s who the message is from that counts. Ronald will know we’re looking for him—that is, if he gets the money.”

  “I saw the cashier’s aura. I think he’s honest enough to give the money to him—that is, if Ronald shows up.”

  “Good.” Quinn pulled me in a little closer. “Now, what was it that you wanted to do before we went out in the rain?” he asked, narrowing his eyes as if struggling to remember.

  I gave him a friendly little slap on the tush. “As if you’d forget.”

  *

  “You guys missed a great movie,” Dylan said when we returned from the Falls just as the movie credits were rolling.

  “Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure I already know it by heart,” I noted. “It was a Sanders family holiday favorite.”

  “You two find Ronald?” Minerva asked as Dylan popped Casablanca into the DVD player.

  “No such luck.”

  “Yeah, well, next time you fall off the grid, would you mind telling me first?” Dylan asked. “You freaked me out there for a second when Quinn’s heartbeat just disappeared.”

  “Will do. Sorry.” I smiled in appreciation of how protective Dylan had become of Quinn. I was glad to see him settling into his role as a Shepherd.

  Dylan froze momentarily and closed his eyes. “Got to go,” he said when he opened them up again. “My mentor wants to talk to me.” He walked across the room, kissed Minerva on the cheek, and then stood up and looked at me. “Watch over our boy.”

  “Debrief in the Falls?” I asked.

  “You bet.”

  *

  Quinn decided he wasn’t going to wait any longer than necessary to hear what happened at Dylan’s meeting, so we left for the Falls almost immediately. He planned on staying awake until Dylan returned, wanting to hear everything firsthand, and I couldn’t really blame him.

  Minerva decided to stay back at the house and watch Casablanca. We agreed I’d come get her if it was important; otherwise, she’d wait to hear the details of Dylan’s meeting when they saw each other later.

  “That was quick,” I noted when Dylan reappeared in the portal a handful of hours later. “What time is it in Chicago?”

  “Nearly midnight,” Dylan replied.

  “So how’d it go?” Quinn asked.

  “The meeting was … interesting. Unexpected. All in all, pretty good.”

  “Can you elaborate?” I asked.

  “Why, yes, I can.” He winked and smiled. “Teddy told me—”

  “Wait a minute, Teddy?” I asked. “I thought you were meeting with your mentor?”

  “Oh, yeah, Teddy’s my new mentor,” Dylan remarked as if it were yesterday’s news.

  “Since when?” I asked in surprise.

  “Since I became Quinn’s Shepherd. And let me tell you, Teddy is a million times better than Geezer Abe. Teddy’s all like—‘Under no uncertain terms can you let anything bad happen to Bo Peep’s sheep, got it Bumper Car? If that means you two have to walk around with that boy stuck to you like crazy glue all damn day, then that’s what you’d better damn do.’” Dylan’s imitation of Teddy was spot on, and it made me laugh. “Geezer Abe would’ve just been like—‘Bo Peep who?’” Dylan grinned. “We’re seriously covered now, you know?”

  I nodded.

  “‘We’re seriously covered now’? What does that mean?” Quinn asked.

  “It means our new support team is made up of those of us who totally dig K.C. and actually give a rat’s ass about this little mess the Servants have created rather than just a few ancients who could give two beans about what happens to her, to you—to them.” Dylan turned to me. “And that’s not even the half of it. The powers that be are bending the Rules like crazy for both of us, K.C. They want us to be seen out together with Quinn—not as immortals, of course, but as humans.”

  “Whose idea was it to bend the Rules for us?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine Tara or the rest of the Council Tribunal being too thrilled with that arrangement. The more exposure we had, the more likely we’d slip up and be discovered or recognized.

  “The Council, the Order—who cares?” Dylan exclaimed excitedly. “The point is they want us to walk around in public together. Can you believe it?” he asked in bemused amazement.

  “No, not really.”I flashed back to my last conversation with Tara. She’d told me Quinn and I could pursue our relationship, but she didn’t exactly encourage me to go public with it. In fact, she’d repeatedly cautioned me not to do anything that would draw too much attention to us.

  “What does this mean?” Quinn asked.

  “Shepherds gone wild, man!” Dylan exclaimed excitedly. “We’ve basically been ordered to pretend to be normal, regular people who go out and do whatever normal people our age do.”

  “Why would they want us do that?” Quinn asked.

  “It’s like I said—strength in numbers,” Dylan replied. “The more visible the two of us are—three of us, if you count M—the more serious the message we send to the Servants that you’re protected.”

  I wasn’t feeling quite as positive about this new development. Something must be seriously off to warrant such a radical change in attitude by the Council. “The Order must’ve realized we’re running out of time,” I said. “They probably want Quinn and me to focus our energy on our bond and do whatever we can to strengthen it. It also means we can’t be spending every minute looking over our shoulders for Servants. They must want the Servants to know we have an extra set of eyes and hands to catch everything Quinn and I might miss.”

  “And if someone recognizes you while we’re out?” Quinn asked.

  “Teddy told me not to worry about that,” Dylan replied. “He said the chances of it happening are infinitely small. And on the off-chance it did happen, they’d deal with it.”

  “Let me guess, they’ll erase the memory of anyone who recognizes either of you,” Quinn said dismally. “Does the same thing go for M?”

  “She’s been a Watcher for four decades,” I said. “She’d be receiving Medicare by now if she were still alive.” I couldn’t help but grin at little at my dig.

  “Claws, Kitty Cat,” Dylan war
ned, not amused.

  “My point is that even if she ran into someone who knew her way back when, no one would believe she’s the same person—a younger relative of someone they used to know maybe, but not her. Still, you might want to talk to her. I’m not sure how her Council would feel if they found out she’s spending her free time walking around in broad daylight with a couple of Shepherds and her former charge.”

  “Good point.” Dylan suddenly looked worried.

  “And we still need to be careful and take certain precautions. We don’t need anyone poking around, asking too many questions.”

  “Fine, but that doesn’t mean we’re going to be stuck inside the house most of the time,” Dylan cautioned. “We’re supposed to be out there. We’re supposed to be seen with Quinn.”

  I could already tell Dylan was planning to get maximum mileage out of this one. And then there was Quinn. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye only to discover he was beaming. I took a deep breath and exhaled heavily.

  “Don’t look so worried, K.C. This is not a bad thing,” Dylan added. “Hard as it is for you, you’re just going to have to trust Quinn and me on this one. Going out is good for the soul.” He flashed me a huge smile, and I could hear Quinn chuckling.

  “Fine. Let’s just try not to make friends with everyone in town, okay? And no getting friendly with any bouncers.”

  “Deal,” Dylan and Quinn said in unison, grinning from ear to ear.

  “It’s good to have you back, K.C. Feels just like old times,” Dylan quipped.

  “Yes, it does,” Quinn agreed.

  “So the real question is, how do we get you two to bond already?” Dylan continued.

  “I have a few ideas.” Quinn winked at me.

  “I’m sure you do,” I replied, sounding more playful than I felt. I’d been through this over and over in my head. I didn’t know what else we could do to get closer in such a short period of time. And lingering in the back of my mind was the fear that we might’ve already reached our peak potential as true soul mates and it just wasn’t good enough—that we just weren’t strong enough to save the world.

  *

  With our new directive in place, Dylan, Minerva, Quinn and I made sure the four of us were seen out in public together a lot over the next week. After our morning strategy and training session in the Falls, we’d head out for the day.

  Being out in public with Quinn was certainly easier now that I didn’t have to worry about the penalties for spending time with him. Of course, it also helped having two partners in crime. Quinn gave Dylan, Minerva, and me the grand tour of his hometown—where he’d gone to school, where he’d learned to swim, where his friends had grown up, where he used to hang out, and everything in between. I loved hearing stories about when he was younger.

  Unfortunately, my hopes to keep a low profile and blend in were quickly dashed whenever we’d run into one of Quinn’s neighbors—or even worse, friends of Quinn’s parents. They’d eye me up and down, committing every one of my features, comments, and mannerisms to memory, no doubt to gossip about me later. Thankfully, any self-conscious fears I might’ve had were allayed each night when Quinn would seduce me before falling asleep. And each night, I’d watch this beautiful man get lost in his dreams.

  Because Chicago was new to Dylan and Minerva, we went on the Chicago River Boat tour, walked the Magnificent Mile, and hit the stores. I took note of what Quinn eyed on the mannequins—and, even more so, what Minerva liked. By week’s end, my wardrobe had vastly improved.

  And each time we were in the city, we made it a point to drive through the West Loop and look for Ronald, but he was never around. Quinn even stopped in the convenience mart one afternoon to ask the same cashier we’d spoken to days before if he’d seen Ronald, but the cashier just apologized and ended up giving Quinn his thirty dollars back.

  We also quickly got into the habit of avoiding places that were too remote and unpopulated for fear that our isolation would invite an attack by the Servants. The more public and crowded the area, the safer we felt.

  And just when I felt like we’d pushed the limits of “going public,” Quinn thought it’d be a good idea to meet up with a bunch of his high school friends at a house party. Dylan, of course, agreed with Quinn immediately. Leave it to the two of them to bust the can of worms wide open.

  Minerva helped me choose my outfit for the evening—nothing too over the top, but something that amped up my “wow” factor just a bit. We settled on a sleeveless cranberry-colored wraparound mini-dress with a plunging neckline. The dress accentuated all the right parts of my body but still hid the scars on my back. I wore nude wedges to add a few inches to my five-foot-seven frame.

  I kept my make-up fresh and clean—light shadow on my eyes with more attention on my lashes to create a dramatic effect, and lip gloss that was just a shade lighter than the color of my dress. I wore my long, dark hair down in soft, full curls.

  Minerva draped a thin silver chain around my waist, and I wrapped a similar chain around my wrist. She also gave me a teardrop garnet pendant necklace and matching earrings, both absolutely stunning. I had never paid much attention to accessorizing, but I would from now on. And, of course, there was my engagement ring, which I now made a habit of wearing on the ring finger of my right hand.

  I felt like a million bucks—and then a billion when I saw Quinn’s face as I descended the stairs. Even Dylan’s mouth dropped open. I couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear.

  “Wow,” Quinn uttered when I reached his side. He swept my hair over my left shoulder and smiled. “Every one of my friends is going to try to steal you away from me.”

  “Well then you better stay by my side all night and fend them off,” I flirted.

  “You couldn’t beat me away with a stick.” He kissed me softly and I felt my insides stir.

  Dylan cleared his throat, interrupting the moment. “Later, you two. We’ve got a party to attend.”

  *

  I couldn’t believe how nervous I felt when we arrived at the party. Quinn had wanted to introduce me to his friends for the longest time, and now he finally could. And these weren’t just any friends—he grew up with these people. I wanted his friends to like me. I wanted him to be proud of me. Quinn squeezed my hand reassuringly as we walked through the front door.

  There were about a dozen people scattered throughout the first floor of the house and another twenty or so out in the large backyard. It was a beautiful house, even larger than Quinn’s parents’ house, and was home to a guy name Jack Sellers—well, to his parents, anyway. Jack had been one of Quinn’s best friends growing up.

  “There’s Jack,” Quinn said, smiling. Still holding my hand, he led me through the crowd towards a keg on the outdoor back patio. “Jack!” Quinn called out.

  “There’s the man of the hour!” the tall, slender blond guy called back.

  “It’s good to see you.” Quinn handed Jack the case of beer he’d brought.

  “Good to see you too, man. And thanks for supporting the cause,” he said, setting the case on top of a nearby the cooler. “I wasn’t sure you’d make it. Last I heard you were roughing it out west somewhere.”

  “Yeah, well, I decided I’d had enough living out of a tent with me, myself, and I.”

  “I would, too, if I had this waiting for me at home,” Jack said, eyeing me. Quinn glanced at me and smiled, squeezing my hand again.

  “Yeah, I hope you don’t mind, but I brought a few friends. Jack, this is Evie. Evie, this is one of my oldest friends, Jack Sellers.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I said.

  “Nice to meet you, too.” Jack flashed Quinn a little look that obviously meant something because it made Quinn grin even wider and wrap his arm around my waist.

  “And this is Dylan and Minerva,” Quinn continued.

  “Welcome,” Jack said smiling. “I’m glad you guys could come. Make yourselves at home. The keg is tapped and there’s more cold beer in the cooler.�
��

  “Thanks,” Dylan replied.

  Dylan and Minerva hung back while Quinn and I made the rounds, but they never strayed too far. They were ready to come to our aid should we need it.

  Quinn was more than happy to introduce me as his girlfriend from college. There were too many people for me to remember everyone’s name, but one name definitely stood out—Zoe. She was Quinn’s high school girlfriend, and she didn’t seem all too happy to meet me.

  Zoe was very cute. She had pixie-like black hair, a round face and bright blue eyes. She was petite—a good three inches shorter than me without my shoes. She had fairly broad shoulders for her slight frame. I soon learned she’d been on the swim team of a rival high school, which was how Quinn and she had originally met. They’d dated on and off for two years. She attended college out east and was home working for her father this summer.

  Towards the end of the evening, I sat down with Dylan and Minerva while Quinn caught up with his friends. Maybe it was because I was out of practice, but I’d forgotten how exhausting it was to be socially “on” for hours on end—the smiling, the laughing, the small talk. I was glad to take a break from it all.

  Besides, I liked watching Quinn interact with his friends. During the past year at IU, he’d been more distant and aloof. Then again, I’d left him and then erased his memory. And when he’d finally remembered what I’d stolen from him, he couldn’t tell anyone about me—about us, which would be enough to throw anyone off their game. But all traces of that closed-off version of Quinn were gone. Tonight, he was in his element—he was comfortable, happy, and relaxed. Periodically, he’d look over at me and wink or smile, and I’d gladly return the gesture.

  At one point, I became particularly curious to know what Quinn and Jack were talking about, given Jack’s strange facial expressions and his gaze wandering in my direction, but the music and the other conversations nearby made it difficult for me to hear them. And honestly, I wanted to give them their privacy and not eavesdrop. Quinn would fill my in later if he wanted.

  We didn’t get home until after two in the morning. Dylan and Minerva headed straight to the family room to watch an old James Bond movie they’d been talking about all night. I was headed towards the stairs when, without warning, Quinn grabbed me by the hand and pulled me into his father’s office. Once inside, he pulled me into him and kissed me longingly.