“Quinn.”
Marley’s soft entreaty stopped Quinn inside the doors to the marbled lobby. Nick shot her an inscrutable look, then a commanding one at Sam before heading to the check-in desk. Sam took up a stance a few feet away, facing the doors.
“I’m sorry,” Marley said.
Quinn sighed. “I know you are.”
Marley shook her head. “I know you don’t understand. Why I did this. How someone could fool me so easily.” She stared out the etched glass doors, blinking fast. “Not all of us are as confident as you are. Or lucky enough to have two guys who love you and would do anything for you.” Bitterness colored her tone now, jealousy that might have been a driving force in her bad decisions. Not necessarily jealousy of Quinn, but of anyone who had what she didn’t.
But she was right. Quinn didn’t understand. “You have Tim and Bobby and Fran and a whole compound full of people.”
“Pfft. They don’t care about me. You know how many people come to my place because they hear I can help them get back on their feet, and then leave and never contact me again? No one stays. Fran, yes, but…” Her eyes filled with tears and she shook her head again. “Sam would do anything for you. That’s clear after talking to him for five minutes.”
Quinn watched Sam’s shoulders tighten and knew he was listening.
“I thought I had that with Anson,” Marley lamented. “I just wanted—”
“You wanted to keep him,” Quinn interrupted. “You got desperate and let him talk you into something you knew was wrong. We all do that.” Her circumstances had been different, but how could she condemn Marley when Quinn had held on to Sam just as tightly? “But we can’t control other people’s feelings.”
Marley nodded and walked to the counter where Nick still stood.
“You let me go.”
Quinn turned to Sam, who watched her sadly. “What?”
“You’re not like her. You let me go.”
It was Quinn’s turn to blink back stinging tears as Sam, too, walked away. She had a new empathy for her sister. Of course people would do anything to avoid being alone. The crushing loneliness her relationship with Sam had held at bay threatened to descend on her, and now was the worst possible time to let it. She had to be strong. There was work to do.
Chapter Fifteen
The goddess visited the dungeon after her love had been sealed away, where he could steal no more power from other, innocent goddesses. “If you leave me here, I’ll die,” he pleaded with her through the iron bars in his door. “I can no longer survive without access to the energy of life.” Tears dripped down the goddess’s face, for she knew the truth of his words, and it was her fault. She knew it was wrong, but there was no way to fix all the damage she had done, and she deserved no mercy. She laid her fingers on his. “Take mine.”
—“The Goddess and the Leech,” from Tales of the Descendants of Asgard
…
Nick had obtained a two-bedroom suite, by far the nicest accom-modations they’d shared this month. Quinn’s shoes sank into the plush ivory carpeting when they entered. The center room held dark, fancy antique tables flanking a beautiful but hard-looking love seat and two chairs in earth tones. Doors on either side of the room led to bedrooms with double beds visible. Nick went to the bay window to check the latch and peer out. “Fire escape here. No bedroom access, though.”
“Duly noted.” Quinn went to the French-style phone to order room service.
Sam had his laptop open already and scribbled down the research Quinn wanted him to do. Once that was all done, she grabbed her bag and headed to a bathroom to shower. The bedroom was small, with only a few inches between the gold-comforter-covered double beds, a walnut armoire against one wall instead of a closet. The marble bathroom was tiny, too, but luxurious, with a plush rug and thick white towels. The hotel’s gold logo filled the center of the white shower curtain—a real curtain, not an industrial-strength, mildew-resistant plastic liner like in most hotel bathrooms.
She lingered under the water, letting the soft spray wash away tears she couldn’t attach to anything in particular. Fatigue, fear, the burden Barbara had placed on her, which was no more than she’d taken on herself but which weighed more heavily now, regardless. She pretended none of the tears were related to the loneliness Marley had reminded her of and that she could now feel looming at the other side of this.
When she came out of the steamy bathroom, Sam sat on the end of her bed. He looked fine, with no residual effects from his injuries, but guilt twisted her heart anyway. He’d endured so much for her. From her. She couldn’t look at him as she reached for the plush robe on the bed.
“Is the food here yet?” She turned her back to pull the robe over her towel, then let the towel fall to the floor.
“No.”
After belting the robe, she drew the other towel off her head and squeezed it around her hair. “I’m so sorry I let you get hurt.”
He rolled his eyes. “That wasn’t your fault.” He shifted away when Quinn sat on the bed next to him. It was a small movement that likely meant nothing, but it felt much bigger. His demeanor had changed. Somehow, in the short time they were separated, he’d made a decision.
Afraid of the inevitable, she started talking. “Anson’s completely on our shoulders now. Even if I was his big goal all along, what he did here while we were in Maine shows he’s not likely to be satisfied with leeching me. If he gets that much power, he could be unstoppable.” The magnitude of it hit her anew. Failure just wasn’t possible now.
Sam put his arm around her shoulders. “We can do this. We won’t let him get to anyone else.”
He’d barely finished the sentence when Quinn heard the hall door opening. “That can’t be room service. I didn’t hear a knock.” She pushed to her feet and reached for the bedroom door. She’d almost reached it when it blew inward, knocking her off her feet. A white flash blinded her, mixing with stars from smacking her head on the floor.
“Quinn!” Sam bent, his hand going behind her head, but she shoved him away and launched herself up and into the main room. She instinctively knew what that flash was. What it had to be. She threw up her hands against another flash of light, glimpsing her sister in a heap on the floor, a dark figure looming over her with a hand on her chest.
She didn’t have time to think. She opened herself wide to the moon and shoved at the figure, trying to get him off Marley. The photonegative effect of the light faded, but a hum rose around them. Glasses on the bar and vases on tables rattled, as did the door of the other bedroom. Nick shouted her name and banged on the door, trapped inside.
“NooooooooOOOOO!” She pushed harder, desperate to free her sister. The figure—it had to be Anson—didn’t budge, despite Quinn’s efforts. Sam shouted behind her, and Anson lifted his head. There was a loud thud, and Quinn whipped around to see Sam sliding down the wall, unconscious. Fury took over. She scanned the room for weapons and used telekinesis to fling a heavy vase, books, and decorative bowls through the air at the leech. Marley shuddered and jerked under his hand, while he had taken on a faint amethyst glow. Everything Quinn threw bounced harmlessly to the carpet. He was powerful enough to deflect the missiles even while leeching her sister. She tried to render him unconscious like she had his people at the inn, but nothing happened.
Pressure built into a bloodcurdling scream of rage. She ran across the room, her hands in front of her, sending energy in waves, trying to knock him off or interrupt his pull of Marley’s power. In slow motion Anson raised his free hand. Quinn slammed full-speed into an invisible wall and fell to the floor again. Her vision erupted in cracked lines of pain and her nose gushed warm blood.
She touched her face to heal the injury. Haphazardly, but well enough for the pain to fade and her vision to clear. But it was too late. Anson now loomed over Quinn.
She couldn’t defend herself, couldn’t affect him. Fear flooded her, but she wasn’t helpless. Or alone. She unlocked Nick’s door with a thought.
It flew open so hard it cracked the drywall behind it. Nick charged out, his pistol leading, and fired three times. The first bullet soared off course. The second stopped before it got to Anson. But the third hit him in the hand. He yelped and stared at it, going white with shock. Then, fury contorting his face, he stretched a hand toward Nick. Nick’s gun flew out of his hand and crashed through the window.
Nick didn’t hesitate. He pulled another weapon from his rear waistband and kept firing, hitting Anson twice before the leech threw a chair at Nick, knocking him to the floor.
Quinn lashed out with her feet as Anson stepped closer to her, still distracted by her protector. She slammed her heel into his knee, then scissored her legs around his. He landed on his back hard enough to shake the floor but was on his feet as quickly as she was.
Sirens outside stopped everything. Quinn recovered first and lunged, but she managed only to catch Anson’s long coat, which he slipped out of and ran through the doorway. By the time she reached the hall, he’d disappeared.
She hesitated, not wanting to let him go, but also afraid to leave the others here alone to face the police and the management. She wasn’t ready for another fight, not when he was so damned strong. Plus, racing through the streets of Boston in a bathrobe, trying to engage an enemy she was not at all sure she could conquer…well, that would be stupid.
She cursed and went back inside. Marley and Sam lay on the floor, both unconscious. Nick stumbled across the room, bleeding from a gash on his temple and another on his upper arm, right below the sleeve of his T-shirt. But Quinn looked at the coat in her hand and smiled.
Anson didn’t know it, but he’d just handed her victory.
…
The rush didn’t last long. Keeping Anson’s coat over her arm, Quinn closed the door and fastened the chain and privacy lock. Nick reached her and propped himself against the wall, leaning to peer through the peephole.
“He’s gone?”
“Yeah. You okay?” She touched the gash on his head, wincing at the rawness. The injuries were getting worse every time—but no more.
“Sonofabitch.” He jerked away. “I’m fine. Get your sister.” He wove his way back into the sitting room and over to Sam, still crumpled in a heap on the floor. Quinn saw he was covered in glass from a shattered picture frame. She told herself he’d be okay, that they’d all be okay, but even with the advantage Anson had unknowingly given her, victory wasn’t at hand yet. It wouldn’t be if she didn’t have her team intact.
Later. Deal with this now, that later.
“Don’t move him,” she told Nick. “I’ll be right there.” She knelt next to Marley, who was as still and pale as a wax figure. Quinn skimmed her hands over her sister, checking for injury, but there wasn’t one.
There was, however, a definite lack of power.
“Oh, no.” A sob escaped her. “I’m so sorry, Marley. It’s my fault,” she whispered, stroking her sister’s dark hair off her forehead. “Come on, sweetie,” she said louder. “Wake up.”
Marley’s eyelids fluttered. Her eyes, pale lavender before from the initial bestowment, were now almost white, the darker purple flecks in the irises reminding Quinn of Easter eggs. She groaned and rolled to her side. “Oh, Quinn, I’m such an idiot.”
“Take it easy.”
“I’m okay. Just weak.” She let Quinn help her to her feet. “I didn’t let him in, I swear.”
Quinn wondered why Marley would assume that was what she thought. “What happened?”
“I heard the elevator and was going to check through the peephole to see if it was room service. But the door opened by itself.” She stared at Quinn, eyes wide, disconcerting in their lack of color combined with fear and anxiety. “I didn’t let him in,” she repeated. “I didn’t tell him where we are.”
The elevator dinged, and adrenaline rushed through Quinn. “We don’t have time to be sorry. Go get our stuff. Get to the window with the fire escape.” She watched through the peephole as police officers and what looked like the hotel manager dashed past. They hadn’t pinpointed the gunshots yet.
“We’ve got to get out of here.” Hurrying across the room, she swept her hand over Sam to remove all the glass covering him, then checked his spine first. Nothing was broken, so she nodded to Nick to pick him up.
“Are you shittin’ me? The guy weighs more than I do. He’s four inches taller.” He shut up when Quinn dropped her bathrobe and pulled on Anson’s coat, buttoning it and tightening the belt.
“Just go, Nick.”
Without another word he bent and lifted Sam in a fireman’s carry. Marley beckoned from the open window, and he staggered over. Quinn grabbed Sam’s computer bag and Nick’s weapon-filled duffel from the love seat on her way to the fire escape. They were heavy enough that she had to drag them across the floor. She bent to crisscross the straps across her body. That balanced the weight, but only if she stood upright.
Voices in the hall grew louder. The police were coming. Too quickly, someone pounded on their door. She gripped the sides of the window and pushed one leg through—careful to keep the coat between her naked body and the cold, hard-edged windowsill—then heaved herself onto the fire escape to follow the others to the alley below. She cursed as the bags kept catching between the rails, but she didn’t have time to stop and levitate the bags to the ground. By the time she reached the bottom of the ladder, she was sweating.
“Any clue where valet parking is in this place?” Nick asked her. He’d let Sam down onto his feet but supported his full weight with Sam’s arm across his shoulder and his own arm around Sam’s waist. They’d never be able to drag him into the underground parking area unseen, even if she cloaked them.
She dropped the bags to the ground. “Give me the keys. You wait here.”
Nick scowled but complied. Marley made to follow Quinn, who put up her hand to stop her.
“No,” Quinn said. “Stay here. Help Nick support Sam and make it look like he’s drunk if anyone shows up.”
“You doing okay?” Nick asked her.
She’d used a lot of power, but adrenaline seemed to be making up for it. She had energy, even if she couldn’t draw as easily as she had in the apartment. As for the rest—well, if she kept them moving, she could keep from wallowing in guilt long enough to rectify everything.
“Yep,” she told Nick.
“You got a plan?”
“Nick, let me go! But yes, I have a plan.” She hurried down the alley to the rear of the building. The dim, dingy entrance to the concrete garage was a far cry from the elegant front entryway. Quinn kept to the shadows on the far side of the entrance from the booth, where two attendants bent over something below the Plexiglas windows. A valet walking up the incline toward the front of the building bounced in time to the music on his headphones and never turned her way.
Quinn circled three levels, cursing the whole time, until she found Nick’s car. She didn’t bother trying to mask the growl of the engine, hoping the booth attendants would think a valet was retrieving it.
The back exit had a gate, and she didn’t want to damage it or the car, nor did she have ID on her or any proof that she owned the vehicle, since she didn’t. So she zoomed out the open front entrance and turned right into traffic, then right again, the wrong way down the alley, before anyone could approach or stop her. Nick stood as she’d left him, Sam slung across his shoulders—except he was on his other side. Marley stood looking down at a prone figure, rolling something in her hand. A crystal?
Quinn stopped with a screech next to them and jumped out.
“What happened?”
“He came out of nowhere.” Nick dragged Sam toward the passenger side. Quinn hurried around to open the door and pull the seat forward. While Nick shoved Sam into the back, she dashed around again and got back behind the wheel. Marley crawled in after Sam and tried to straighten out his legs. Her movements were jerky, and Quinn saw tear tracks on her face. The crystal, or whatever had been in her hand, was gone.
>
“Who is he? The guy on the ground?”
“Anson’s friend,” Marley answered without looking up at her. “He came to the inn a few times. He ran down the alley with a gun. I tried…I tried…”
Nick slammed the door and Quinn took off. He gave her a significant look and said, “I saw him coming, dropped Sam, and popped him before he could get a shot off.”
Marley whimpered. “He leeched me. I couldn’t stop the guy in the alley. Oh, Quinn.” She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.
Quinn didn’t know what to do. She hadn’t realized Marley wasn’t aware of what Anson had done to her. They were in the middle of heavy downtown traffic now and she couldn’t stop, especially when Anson was still sending people after them. Not to mention the police, who’d find the aftermath of their fight and maybe even the slugs Nick had shot at Anson. Even if Quinn was in a position to comfort her sister right now, there was nothing to say that would help.
Still, she had to try. “I’m sorry, Marley. It’s my fault. I should have anticipated he’d be able to track us that easily.”
“No.” Marley straightened. “I’m the one who gave him the ability to do this. I’ve been afraid it would happen. But it’s my punishment. I’ll accept it. Eventually,” she added in a whisper. “Now tell us your plan.”
Quinn gained more respect for Marley. Finally, she was accepting the truth and acting like more than a victim—ironically just as she had become a real one.
“Okay, first we need an empty building. Something in a deserted area, if we can find one.”
Sam groaned and shifted in the backseat. “Oh, man. I’m sick of being knocked unconscious.”
Nick twisted in his seat. “Double vision, headache, nausea?”
“No. I don’t know. Give me a minute.”
Stopped at a light, Quinn watched in the rearview mirror as Sam squeezed his eyes closed, then opened them wide. But when those eyes met hers in the mirror, they were clear and even. He winced, stretching his neck and shoulders, but his movements became more limber and controlled.
Under the Moon (Goddesses Rising) Page 27