Lenora frowned.
“Drake,” she cautioned, her husky voice dropping even lower. “This sounds like Quest business.” Lenora was the only other vampire Drake knew who detested the Quest. She preferred to indulge in life’s simple pleasures, although with her power and influence, she would have made a great asset to the search. Lenora had been around a very, very long time and even Drake, who knew her better than most, did not know why she was so against it.
“It’s not; not really,” he replied. “I’m trying to help a friend.”
“A friend?” she tapped a perfectly manicured fingernail against her bare thigh. “And what does your friend want to know?”
“Who killed her sister.”
Lenora’s composure slipped for just an instant as comprehension dawned on her.
“Are you insane? You can’t be friends with a Guardian, Drake... she’ll kill you.”
“She won’t.”
“She’s a Guardian, for God's sakes!”
“Lenora,” he lowered his own voice menacingly. “You’re going to have to trust me on this one. We’ve been friends a long time.”
“We won’t be friends much longer if you don’t end this.”
“You want me to kill her?”
“I can see by your face that’s not going to happen; but you need to stay as far away from her as you can.”
“Your concern is noted,” he drawled, making it clear that the topic was closed. “Now... do you have the information I’m looking for?”
Lenora curled her lip. Drake was the only man on the planet who dared speak to her like that – he had never been afraid of her – it was one of the reasons she was so fond of him. Of all the lovers she had taken over the years, Drake had always stood out as the one she respected the most. When he had left her, she had never asked him to stay, although she would have preferred it. He had grieved deeply over Charlotte and Lenora had done what she could to ease his heartache, but he had not been ready to settle down. Lenora doubted he ever would be. His long relationship with Genevieve had surprised her, even sparked a flare of envy that she hadn’t felt in years, but she believed it was a relationship borne of convenience rather than real emotion.
“You never did listen,” she scolded, shaking her head, “but to answer your question, no... I never heard anything about a Guardian’s death around that time. Although there was one a few weeks ago - a male. As far as I know the vamps that killed him didn’t live to tell the tale.”
“And yet you know about it,” Drake remarked wryly.
“I know everything,” Lenora grinned, showing her fangs. “Isn’t that why you’re here?”
There was not much more she could tell him, but Lenora promised to let him know if she heard anything. Outwardly, she agreed half-heartedly to see what she could find out, but inside she knew she would move heaven and earth to help him. As she watched him walk away, she remembered the first time she had ever laid eyes on him. She had known Lucian for years, and he had asked her to look out for Drake if ever something were to happen to him. Lenora had taken one look at Drake and announced that she would do so happily. Lucian, who had been like a father to Drake, had not taken kindly to her suggestive comment, but Lenora had not heeded his silent warning. Drake was the most attractive man she had ever laid eyes on, both human and vampire included, and she had enjoyed a brief fling with him behind Lucian’s back. Lucian was blissfully unaware that Lenora and Drake had even met.
Then, Lucian had been killed and Drake had been so angry, so bitter that he had joined the Quest, and, despite Lenora’s best efforts, he would not be swayed from his course. She had lost track of him for a long time; her guilt that she had failed in her promise to her old friend eating her up inside, until the day that Drake arrived on her doorstep, a broken shadow of his former self. He had finally left Charlotte; his guilt that he had turned her into a monster crippling him. Slowly, Lenora had helped him to heal. They had a strong emotional connection and a brief physical attraction, but she had helped him through his darkest time. It eased her conscience somewhat when she finally convinced him to abandon the Quest.
“What did he want?” Nicholai demanded when she re-entered the house.
“That’s none of your business,” Lenora scolded, shutting the door and dropping the slip of a dress to the floor at her feet. Nicholai’s pupils dilated as he watched it slither over her smooth skin. “You are here for my pleasure,” Lenora reminded him, and Nicholai darted forward, eager to please.
Chapter 34
Quinn checked in regularly with Tristan during the two weeks that she was gone. Rafe had not left the house and Quinn consoled herself that, even if he wanted to, Tristan would not discover her hidden room while Rafe was there watching him.
The trip to the cottage proved futile – the crystal was not there, although Quinn searched everywhere – in every nook and cranny, missing nothing. The cottage was empty, as was the main house and Quinn was sad to learn from a neighbour that the elderly couple had passed away last spring. With no known relatives, the house had been vacant ever since.
The dusty cottage dredged up painful memories of the year that she and Avery had spent there. It had been one of the happiest times of Quinn’s life, but to remember it grieved her. After two full days of searching had unearthed nothing but cobwebs and disappointment, Quinn conceded defeat and headed back towards Brookfield, making a few stops on the way, as she searched any location she could think of that was remotely tied to Avery.
Arriving home after ten in the evening she was surprised to find a light still on, shining through the downstairs window. Opening the front door she tiptoed through the hall and, rounding the corner, she spotted Tristan on the sofa, staring unseeingly at the TV.
“Hey,” he whispered, switching the TV off. “You’re back.”
“I am,” she shrugged out of her coat and threw it over the back of the sofa, before collapsing beside him.
“How’d it go?” Tristan asked.
“No joy,” she admitted, feeling exhausted. She had accomplished nothing and the clock was ticking. She had just over a week before her month was up. “There are still a few places I want to check, but I had to come back.”
“Why?”
“Rafe,” she answered, without thinking. She didn’t notice his face fall. “The next full moon is just over a week away. We need a plan.”
“What do you suggest we do?”
“We can’t keep him here – it’s too risky with Sarah right next door. I think we should take him out of town – somewhere remote. We can spend the night in the woods.”
“A camp-out. Sounds like fun,” he tried to make light of it but Quinn didn’t respond. “You okay?” he prompted after a long moment of silence.
“I’ll be fine,” she sighed. “I’m just tired.” Heaving herself off the sofa, she made her way to the stairs. “Goodnight, Tristan.”
Quinn took one look at Rafe the following morning as he shuffled down the stairs and her eyes widened in horror. Rafe looked even worse than before, the stubble of his beard flecked with grey. Rounding on him, her concern only fuelled her anger.
“Enough!” she thundered, so loudly that Tristan came sprinting down the stairs, a stake appearing in his hands as if summoned from thin air. Quinn was so wound up she couldn’t appreciate his dexterity.
“What?” Rafe’s eyes darted around, sensing the cause of her aggravation.
“You look like crap,” Quinn stated bluntly. “Have you even had a shower since I’ve been gone?” Tristan visibly relaxed, stowing the stake into the back of his tracksuit pants. Quinn averted her eyes from his bare chest, staring at Rafe expectantly.
“I...” he stopped, his eyes narrowed in thought.
“The fact that you don’t remember is answer enough,” Quinn snapped.
“Why would I bother?” Rafe replied with far more attitude. “It’s hardly as if I have anyone to impress. I can’t even leave this blasted house!” Ignoring the blight against her h
ome, Quinn rubbed her temples. Tristan shook his head at her, warning her to leave well alone, but she couldn’t bear to see Rafe so unhappy. An idea occurred to her, one that she would ordinarily have dismissed, but she knew that if they kept him cooped up much longer, Rafe would snap. He was a wolf, after all, and wolves couldn’t be caged.
Picking up her phone, before she could lose her nerve, she dialled Sarah’s number.
“Hey, you’re back!” Sarah’s permanently sunny disposition shone through in her voice, a stark contrast to the melancholic mood in Quinn’s house.
“I am. And I was wondering if we were still on for Wednesday?”
“Games night? Absolutely!”
“Fabulous. Do you mind if I bring my house guests?”
“They’re still there?” Sarah was surprised. “I haven’t seen anyone since you left.”
“You must have missed them. So, do you mind?”
“Of course not. The more the merrier. I’ll tell Todd to get some more beer.”
“You are a saint,” Quinn offered. “See you then.”
“We’re going out?” Tristan mused when she had hung up. Rafe tried to appear nonchalant, but Quinn could see the glimmer of hope in his eyes. He must be desperate to be looking forward to something as mundane as spending an evening with strangers.
“Yes,” she nodded, meeting Rafe’s gaze. “But you’re going to clean up before you’re allowed anywhere.”
“Okay,” he nodded, relenting.
On Wednesday night, true to his word, Rafe appeared in the living room looking like a different man. He had shaved, probably that morning, so only a dark shadow remained where a barbaric beard had been before. His hair was still wild, clearly not brushed, but at least it was clean, and his clothes were only slightly creased from being inside his suitcase for so long.
“No, we’ll all go,” Quinn replied to Tristan’s proposal that she only take Rafe along to Sarah’s for games night. There was no way she was leaving Tristan alone in her house for a few hours. Tristan was a Guardian, after all, and with Rafe not around he might well discover her hidden room.
“Hey!” Sarah opened the door and smiled at the three of them. She had a brown smudge under her left eye and blonde strands were escaping her ponytail. Quinn noticed the way her forehead creased slightly as her gaze fell upon Rafe. He may look a million times better than he had yesterday, but his eyes were hollow and his hair looked as though it hadn’t been brushed for weeks; which, of course, it hadn’t. Sarah then gave Tristan a very approving once over and Quinn fought the urge to roll her eyes. Tristan had always been too good-looking for his own good.
“This is my friend, Tristan,” Quinn introduced quickly, “and this is Rafe.” Sarah extended her hand politely to both of them before ushering them all back into the house.
“I made dessert,” Sarah called as she led the way to the living-room.
“I can see that,” Quinn smiled, indicating the chocolate mousse smeared across her face.
“Oh! Whoops!” Sarah quickly rubbed at her cheek, laughing infectiously.
Todd eased himself off the sofa, shaking hands with Tristan and Rafe, while Sarah pulled Quinn into the kitchen.
“You could have mentioned your friend was young and marvellous-looking,” she scolded, rounding on Quinn, “I didn’t even brush my hair!” She frowned suddenly, the thought reminding her of Rafe’s dishevelled appearance and opened her mouth to question Quinn about it
“You look fantastic,” Quinn said quickly, heading her off. It was a fact though. Sarah was adorable, no matter what she wore.
“You’re looking pretty glamorous yourself tonight,” Sarah eyed her speculatively. “You’re actually wearing make-up! Is there something you want to tell me?” she waggled her brows suggestively.
“Don’t even go there,” Quinn grinned. “It’s not like that.”
“It should be,” Sarah sighed dreamily.
“Should be what?” Todd’s voice from the doorway made them both jump.
“Nothing,” Sarah blushed scarlet.
“Sure,” Todd grinned, rubbing the back of his head so that his black hair stood up on end. “What are you girls doing in here anyway? We have a game to win!” he grabbed Sarah by the waist and pulled her against him. She emitted a soft “oomph” as she collided with his chest, but giggled as he planted a kiss full on her mouth.
“If you two don’t mind...” Quinn drawled, crossing her arms over her chest and tapping her foot. Todd grinned at her over the top of Sarah’s head.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, taking Sarah’s hand and leading her back to the living-room. “Let the games begin!”
Chapter 35
“Geronimo!” Sarah yelled triumphantly and Todd fist-punched the air. Tristan met Quinn’s eye across the room, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Sarah and Todd’s good spirits were infectious - even Rafe seemed to have been roused from his usual melancholy, and was participating as best he could. Despite having three people on their team, they were losing badly.
“One of the downfalls of being a Guardian,” Tristan mumbled through a mouth full of potato crisps when Sarah and Todd went to fetch the dessert. “You don’t get to watch a lot of movies.”
“Try never watching any, ever,” Rafe countered, and Tristan looked horrified.
“I understand now why you left Summerfeld, Quinn,” Rafe continued, “you spent the last two years living like a normal person.”
“Raising two kids doesn’t exactly leave you much free time,” Quinn pointed out, without malice. The alcohol was warming her from the inside.
“It sucks to be us,” Rafe grumbled woefully, lifting his beer and examining its contents, while Quinn and Tristan tried to hide their amusement. The werewolf was very obviously drunk, and had become calmer, but infinitely more retrospective for it. “We should definitely have beer in Summer...”
“Let me help you with that!” Tristan interrupted, distracting Sarah who had just re-entered the room, carrying a tray of steaming coffee mugs. Quinn breathed a sigh of relief at his quick thinking, and shook her head at Rafe, who seemed oblivious to his near slip-up.
“Thank you,” Sarah breathed shyly, lowering her eyes as Tristan smiled down at her. Typical, Quinn thought. It takes him only one evening to utterly charm my closest friend. Briefly, her thoughts flitted to Piper from whom she had drifted so far apart. Piper was very like Sarah in so many ways and Quinn wondered idly if that was part of the reason she was so fond of her young neighbour. She would make it up to Piper, Quinn thought. After all, when she returned to the Guardians, she would probably never see Sarah again. The thought pained her, but it was the way of her world. Quinn had never had any human friends before – human lives were fleeting, and Quinn could think of nothing worse than watching those you cared about age and die.
“You guys ready to be annihilated?” Todd called confidently as he backed into the room, balancing two trays of plates laden with chocolate mousse on his arms.
“You haven’t won yet,” Quinn quipped, stepping forward and taking one of the trays from him.
“Oh, but we will,” he promised, winking at her.
And, of course, they did. Rafe was too drunk to even hazard a guess, and neither Tristan nor Quinn could make any sense of the titles they selected over the next few rounds. Todd and Sarah, on the other hand, operated like a finely-tuned machine, practically reading each other's minds.
“Annihilated,” Todd confirmed, nudging Quinn in the ribs as Sarah unnecessarily tallied up their scores.
“We won!” she announced, as though it surprised her, and Quinn laughed.
“I demand a recount,” she grinned. Meeting Tristan’s eyes, her smile slowly faded. Tristan was looking at her in a way that he hadn’t for years – in a way that she never dreamed he would look at her again. Her heart flip-flopped in her chest.
“I think we should take him home,” Quinn mumbled, turning her attention to Rafe in an effort to distract herself. Rafe was sn
oring quietly on the sofa in an upright position, his head drooping onto his chest. Sarah, who had been looking between Quinn and Tristan, immediately agreed.
“Why don’t you help Tristan, Todd?” she suggested, “Quinn, will you help me take these trays back to the kitchen.”
“Sure,” Quinn replied, puzzled. Sarah was no master of discretion, and it was apparent to everyone that she wanted to talk to Quinn in private. “What’s up?” she asked, the second they were out of earshot.
“Oh my God,” Sarah gushed, “did you see that?”
“See what?”
“Oh please, like you don’t know!” she scolded. “The way he was looking at you!” the gushing, simpering way that she said it made Quinn laugh, but she couldn’t deny it.
“We have a history,” she admitted.
“I knew it!” Sarah seized on this new piece of information with gusto. “He likes you, Quinn. You know that, right? Any fool could see that he’s into you.”
“He’s kind of out of bounds,” Quinn scraped the remnants of the tray she was holding into the bin. “It’s complicated; it can’t happen.”
“But you like him?” Sarah pressed, a small frown line appearing between her eyes.
“I...” Quinn paused, not sure how to answer the question. She had tried not to think about it.
“Quinn?” Todd’s voice in the hall was a welcome relief. “They’re home, safe and sound. Tristan said he’d see you there, and he said to thank you for a wonderful evening,” he added, speaking to Sarah.
“I better go,” Quinn dropped the tray back onto the counter and grabbed her purse. As much as she was nervous to face him after the look they had shared, it was even more important that he was not left alone in her house. “Thank you both so much. I’m heading out of town on Thursday,” she added, giving Sarah a quick squeeze. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be away, but I’ll call you.”
“Where are you going this time?” Sarah asked, but Quinn was already heading for the hall.
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