“And I also assume Jaegar and Chase struck a bargain with you, telling you they could get Mr. Harrison’s contaminated blood back in exchange for something of equal value to them,” Peter continued telepathically. I couldn’t believe he knew all of this and had never confronted me before.
“They did get his blood back.”
Peter looked genuinely surprised. “Are you sure it was his?”
“They tested it in front of me.”
He nodded slightly as if to consider what I’d just revealed. “And how much did they charge for their retrieval services?” He glanced pointedly at the inside of my arms.
Crap, I bet he knew exactly what it’d cost me. “Plenty.”
“I warned you about dealing with the likes of them.” He shook his head in disapproval.
“That, you did.”
Peter examined me more closely, narrowing his eyes and cocking his head. He opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it.
“Quinn and I bonded as true soul mates. Our souls fused,” I offered.
“I thought I noticed something slightly different about your aura. Well,” he said, sighing, “I suppose I should congratulate you.”
“Thanks … I guess,” I replied awkwardly, realizing he’d yet to actually congratulate me. I looked into his eyes and saw them flicker with sadness, anger, and envy. Peter still had feelings for me—feelings he knew I’d never reciprocate.
“Did you know Tartuf has books on demons?” I asked telepathically, redirecting the conversation in an effort to break the tension looming between us.
“Of course. He has the most extensive collection of literature on creatures of the Underworld. I go to his office from time to time to do some research.”
“So, you know about his office?”
“Of course. Most of us do.”
“Did you ever see or read anything about the Servants?” I asked, trying to determine whether Peter was aware of Tartuf’s Journal.
“Yes,” Peter replied.
“And?”
“And it was the same Journal Tartuf showed you.”
“You—you know about the Journal?” I asked in shock.
“Yes.”
“You never said anything about it to me before.”
“As it was not mine, it was not really my place to disclose its existence.”
“But why didn’t you say anything once you realized Tartuf had shown the Journal to me? I mean, with him gone and all, it might’ve been nice to talk about it with a familiar face.”
“It didn’t occur to me. Besides, we’re not the only ones who know about the Journal, Eve. Many Shepherds have compiled centuries of our history and experience into that Journal over time, so its existence is not a great secret. I suppose I figured Tara might’ve mentioned it to you seeing as she replaced me as your mentor and arranged for your meeting with Tartuf.”
“Yeah, well, she didn’t.” I paused for a moment, my nerves tightening as I wondered whether I should take the next leap of faith. I inhaled deeply and decided to take the plunge.
“I also wasn’t aware that it was such a hot commodity,” I continued, preparing myself for the lecture of a lifetime.
“What makes you say that?”
“Because it was stolen from inside a portal just over a week ago.”
“So, you took the Journal from Tartuf’s office and then someone took if from you?” It was not a question so much as a mild accusation.
I nodded.
“Hmm, that is truly unfortunate,” Peter said more calmly than I’d anticipated. “Tell me, does Tartuf know?”
I shook my head.
“Well, I would hate to be the bearer of that news,” he tried to joke.
“Believe me, I’m not looking forward to it.” I shuddered involuntarily at the thought.
“So, what happened? How did it end up in a portal?”
I explained the entire story to Peter, who sat there and listened patiently to my every telepathic word.
“Do you have any idea who would take it?” I asked. “I mean, who else would know about the Journal and portals, much less the portal we’d been using?”
“Good question. Somehow, we all manage to have our secrets, don’t we?” He nudged my shoulder with his own. “Teleportation with a human always leaves a unique heat signature, so you likely left some breadcrumbs for others to follow unless you hopped around a bit first to confuse anyone or anything that might be tracking you.”
“I never knew about the heat signatures.” I sighed heavily, shaking my head. “And, to tell you the truth, we were never all that careful when we traveled to and from the portal with Quinn—but we are now. We learned our lesson after the breakin occurred. Believe me, we will not be leaving anymore breadcrumbs behind.”
“New portal?”
“Yeah, thanks to Dylan.”
“He possesses quite a gift,” Peter marveled aloud. “I must have Teddy talk to him about it,” he mumbled aloud, unaware he’d just revealed Teddy’s knowledge about portals to me, which basically reaffirmed my suspicions that Agnes knew about them as well.
“Tell me, did you have a chance to read the Journal before it was taken?” Peter asked.
“Not entirely. I only got through some of the history on the Servants and the actual ritual itself.”
“I see.” He said the words in a way that made me wonder if I’d missed reading a crucial part of the Journal.
“Did I miss anything important?”
“One could argue that everything contained in those pages is important. But at least you now realize what you’re up against in trying to defend Mr. Harrison.” He exhaled loudly. “It’s not for the faint of heart.”
“Well, thankfully, I no longer have one,” I mused, smirking crookedly.
Peter offered me a halfhearted grin in return. “Eve, my only wish is for you to be safe and happy.”
“Thank you. That’s all I want for you too.” I placed my hand on top of his. “So, are you? Happy, I mean?”
Peter sat there for a moment, considering my question. “In the grand scheme of things, yes, I suppose I’m happy. I’ve been working on an important project for some time now, one I am not at liberty to discuss, but it’s finally coming to a head and its potential impact could be quite significant for all of us—that makes me happy.”
“That’s great,” I said enthusiastically.
“Yes, it’s quite something.” He grinned in satisfaction. “It feels good to be sitting here together like this, doesn’t it? Kind of like old times.”
“It does,” I conceded.
“Eve, I am truly sorry for anything I might’ve done to jeopardize our friendship in your eyes.”
“Spilled milk. Apology accepted.” I couldn’t explain it, but so much of the tension between us I’d been clutching with iron fists seemed to have faded away during our conversation. It was like my mind was telling me to let go of the past. I wanted to learn to trust Peter again. I wanted to believe he was good. I wanted to give him another chance.
“So, are we okay?” he asked hesitantly.
“We’re okay.” I smiled.
“Good.” He squeezed my hand.
I looked at my watch. I’d already been gone for an entire day on Earth—no telling how many sun cycles had passed in the new portal. “I wish I could stay longer, but time’s a wasting.”
“I should be getting back to what I was doing as well.”
He stood up and offered me his hand, which I turned into a hug once we were both on our feet.
“Don’t be such a stranger,” I said.
“Not to worry, I won’t.”
*
When I arrived at La Casa, Quinn was in the kitchen, making himself a sandwich. Dylan and Minerva were out by the pool.
“Have you been in the Archives this whole time?” Quinn asked.
“Yes, but remember when you say ‘whole time,’ it was only about an hour for me.” I leaned on the counter, exhausted. All the telepo
rting drained my strength.
“You okay?” Quinn asked, concerned. “You look tired.” He walked over to me.
“I’ve felt better.”
“Me too.” He leaned over and kissed me. Immediately, I felt a little rejuvenated, and we both smiled.
I sighed. “Much better.”
“Well, I feel better just knowing you’re back here safe and sound.” He kissed me again. Another surge of strength passed through me—through us. It was like taking a huge breath of fresh air after holding your breath under water for too long.
“Hi.” He smiled.
“Hi,” I replied, smiling back. I kissed him once more before taking his hand and leading him down the hallway to our bedroom.
“Where are we going?” he asked innocently, despite the mischievous sparkle in his eyes.
“I need you.” I winked. When we got to our room, I closed the door behind us and locked it. “Dylan’s about to get a huge dose of T.M.I. when he feels your heart pounding.” I smirked and raised my eyebrows.
“Serves him right—what was that he shouted out in the penthouse?” Quinn asked.
“Don’t remind me.” I rolled my eyes and pushed Quinn down on the bed, falling on top of him.
“Yee-haw,” he whispered in my ear with a thick Southern drawl.
“You just had to go there, didn’t you?” I laughed.
*
“Well, don’t you two look re-energized,” Dylan noted when we joined him and Minerva at the pool.
“Nice to see you, too,” I replied.
“So, how did your meeting go?” Minerva asked, also ignoring Dylan’s unsolicited comment.
“It was an interesting visit upstairs. I stopped by Tartuf’s office, but he wasn’t there—no surprise. Then I stopped in the library and ran into Agnes.”
“How’s she doing?” Dylan asked.
“Apparently, pretty well—she’s getting it on with your mentor.”
“What? No way!” he exclaimed, bursting with laughter. “Teddy and Mother Nature? Good for them!”
Quinn and Minerva just stared at us, not knowing what we were talking about.
“She’s not really Mother Nature,” I assured them.
“You can’t prove that,” Dylan added with a straight face.
“On a more serious note, I found out something about the Journal thief,” I stated.
“What?” Dylan asked.
“Basically, it could be any number of immortals.”
“Huh?” Dylan asked.
“How does that help us?” Quinn asked in confusion.
“It doesn’t, but at least I have an idea of how the thief discovered the portal.” I went on to explain my conversation with Peter and how the Journal wasn’t exactly a best-kept secret—and, apparently, neither was the Falls with the breadcrumbs we’d been leaving behind.
“Well, if it could’ve been anyone, why don’t we start with the obvious?” Quinn suggested.
“Jaegar and Chase,” Dylan chimed in. “I’m sure they’d love to get their hands on the Journal and sell it to the highest bidder.”
“While you might be right, I doubt it was them,” I replied. “I’m not sure they know about the Journal—or portals for that matter. Plus, I’m not even sure they can teleport.”
“To the best of my knowledge, they can’t. Besides, they’re hired guns,” Minerva added. “They’d already have a buyer lined up before they acted. So even if they found a way to take the Journal, they wouldn’t have initiated the deal, which leads us back to square one—who’s the real thief? Who wanted the Journal?”
“Peter,” Quinn suggested.
“What?” I asked in surprise. “Quinn, just because you don’t like him, doesn’t mean he’s a thief.”
“It’s not such a far-fetched theory,” Dylan said, backing Quinn up. “Peter knows about portals—he’s the one who introduced them to you, right? And we can assume he knows about the Falls. I mean, he all but admitted it when he told you about the breadcrumbs we’ve been leaving behind—so why not him?”
“I think he would’ve told me if he’d been there.”
“Not if he’s the one who stole the Journal,” Quinn threw in.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” I argued. “Why would he take the Journal when he had access to it all along? With the way he tears through books, he’s probably read it a thousand times. He probably knows it forwards and backwards. So why steal it?”
“To make sure we don’t have it,” Quinn replied. “To make it more difficult for you to save me.”
“Quinn, he knows there’s a lot more at stake here than his feelings for me.”
“I don’t know, K.C.,” Dylan replied. “He’s lied before. Not to mention, he sacrificed a piece of his soul for you—who knows what effect that has on someone like us? Plus, there’s a creepiness factor about him—and I know you know what I’m talking about, K.C.”
“What does that mean?” Quinn asked protectively.
“Let’s just say Peter made his intentions towards me pretty clear one night,” I replied, not wanting to get into too much detail about my unnerving encounter with him in the woods.
“Did he hurt you?” Anger sparked in Quinn’s eyes.
“No,” I reassured him. “He just caught me off guard is all.”
“I’m going to kill him.” Quinn’s narrowed his eyes.
“Quinn, it’s okay, really. It was a while ago—before he saved me last April. And he knows I’m with you. In fact, I just told him our souls fused, and he seemed fine about it.”
Quinn just grunted in disbelief. “I think Peter’s our guy.” He sounded even more convinced now. “I think he followed us one night, figured out how to get in and out of the Falls, and then he waited until we weren’t there to snoop around. When he found the Journal, he took it.”
“Guys, this is Peter we’re talking about. He’s a well-respected Shepherd. He’s head of the mentor program—he was my mentor. Why would he want to do anything to jeopardize Quinn’s safety—or mine for that matter? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“I think Peter is more twisted than you think,” Dylan replied. “I’m betting he’s still pretty hung up on you. This could all be a game to him.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I knew that Quinn disliked Peter, but Dylan too? I looked to Minerva to add some reason back into the conversation.
“I don’t know,” Minerva began. “Granted, I don’t know Peter, but it doesn’t seem to make sense for him to have taken the Journal. Even someone that twisted would be smart enough to realize there’s just too much at stake here if the Servants get Quinn. And Peter sounds smart enough to be able to figure out how to work his way into Evie’s head without sabotaging our efforts to protect Quinn.”
“Just for argument’s sake, if Peter did take the Journal, where do you think he’s keeping it?” Quinn asked.
“Quinn—” I started in protest.
“Hey,” he quickly cut me off, “if you want to rule him out, fine—but we shouldn’t do it just because you want to give him the benefit of the doubt.”
“Fine,” I grumbled. “He’d probably keep it in his portal—unless he has a private office up in the Archives like Tartuf. I can try to find out from Tara if he does.”
“And I’ll try to find Peter’s portal and search for the Journal,” Dylan offered.
“Oh, you’re going to love doing that,” I announced sarcastically.
“Why?” Dylan asked cautiously.
“Because it’s at the summit of K-2 or Denali or some other high-altitude equivalent.”
“Awesome.” Dylan’s mocking enthusiasm couldn’t mask his apparent uneasiness. His entire posture shifted nervously, and I could hear the phobic thoughts running through his head. Minerva, no doubt, could hear him loud and clear as well.
“C’mon, we’ll search for it together,” Minerva offered as she squeezed his hand reassuringly.
*
“What’s the big deal with
the location of Peter’s portal?” Quinn asked me once they’d left.
“Dylan is afraid of heights.”
“Excuse me?” Quinn asked, somewhat amused.
“Some human phobias hitch a ride with us into immortality,” I explained.
“And how about you? I know there’s a phobia somewhere in you,” he teased.
“Bugs. Big, creepy bugs. Especially the ones that fly.” I shivered at the thought.
“You mean like the one that’s crawling on the back of your chair right now?”
“Get it off!” I shrieked, jumping straight out of my chair. Quinn busted out laughing and fell back into his lounge chair.
“That’s not funny!” I half-seethed, half-sighed in relief.
“It was kind of funny,” Quinn managed just before he roared with laughter once again.
“You are so going to pay for that,” I threatened.
“Give it your best shot.” He smiled.
17. back home
We packed up and left Casa del Alma the following day—the twenty-first of July. I was sad to leave, but I knew we’d return soon.
Thanks to Minerva, Quinn’s Defender was back in the same parking garage where he’d left it nearly two weeks ago. She’d retrieved it once the full moon had passed.
“So, you ready to go back home?” I asked Quinn as we both climbed into the car.
“For more of my mom’s twenty questions about us? And to tell my dad about our being engaged?” He took a deep breath. “Oh yeah, I see good times ahead—real good times.” The edge in his voice was unmistakable. “You sure you don’t want to come back with me?” he asked, smirking.
“I think I’ve had enough of the ‘meet the parents’ experience for a while.”
“You can always change your mind, you know.”
“You know I’ll be there with you—just not with you. But I promise I’ll stop in every night. And maybe we can even slip away.” I smiled playfully.
“Maybe?” He leaned over. I could feel the current pass through us before his lips touched mine. “I don’t think I’ll survive the next few days with my parents’ third degree if you don’t rescue me as many times as possible.” He kissed me. “Besides, it’s bad for your health if I don’t touch you.” He chuckled.
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