She sat on the peeling bench in the back garden, mindful of Alice’s meticulous presence in the house. The char might be in her fifties but she could hear a pin drop and Quinn couldn’t afford to be overheard. Alice had taken the arrival of Tristan and Rafe, who Quinn had simply introduced as her cousin and a friend, in her stride, although her lips had puckered disapprovingly at the fresh mud-stains on the carpet in the hall.
The line clicked open after three short rings but Daniel did not say a word.
“It’s me,” she stated plainly, knowing that he would not speak until he was certain of who was on the other end. He would not recognise this number.
“What is it, Quinn?” he sounded harried.
“I found it.” Quinn heard his astonished intake of breath at her words and she quickly continued, “I’m coming back.”
“No, not yet. I'm travelling, I can’t get back to the City before the week is out.” Guardian phones were virtually untraceable, but even so, they did not give away any detail that might be interpreted by anyone listening in. Daniel, though, took lack of detail to a whole new level. Quinn assumed it was because, being the oldest Guardian, he had never quite felt comfortable with technology. “I assume it will be safe until then?”
“Yes, but...”
“No buts.”
“Surely this is more important than...”
“Actually, it is, but I must finish what I came here to do. I will see you at the end of the week.” And with that, he cut the call.
“He must have found a coven,” Tristan soothed, as Quinn paced the kitchen. “It’s the only thing that would keep him away.” The Hunters spent most of their time seeking and destroying vampires, but it was very rare that they discovered an entire coven. Made up of families or unrelated vampires living together, a large coven could have anything up to thirty vampires in its residence. Covens drew more attention than smaller groups or isolated vampires, both from humans and the Guardians who hunted them, and, as a result, they moved around a lot. If the Hunters had come across a group that size, Daniel would not leave until the coven was destroyed.
“It’s just so frustrating,” Quinn groaned, finally taking a seat in the living room. The children were finally within her grasp and now she had nothing to do but wait. “I can’t sit around and do nothing!”
“I could think of some ways to pass the time,” Tristan murmured provocatively, his hand stroking her cheek. Quinn slapped his arm away without thinking. The hurt expression on his face only fuelled her irritation.
“I’m doing this for Jack and Ava. I can’t just forget about them,” she reproached, and was relieved to hear that she sounded calm and matter-of-fact rather than accusatory. She no longer blamed Tristan – in fact, she wondered if she ever really had, or if it had simply been easier to hate him than to deal with Avery’s death. Tristan had done what every other male Guardian had done since the beginning. It was simply the Guardian way.
“Implying that I have?” he retaliated, his voice low and furious. She didn’t answer. He was so far from the truth that she couldn’t find the words to contradict him, but Tristan took her silence as confirmation and his temper boiled over.
“Jack and Ava?” he asked, sounding harder than she expected. He gave a short, harsh bark of laughter and then ran his hands through his hair. When he spoke again, there was an infinite sorrow in his voice that Quinn had never heard before. “Did you ever stop to think about the consequences of your own actions, Quinn? About the fact that your refusal to return resulted in the Guardians hiding my children, so that even I can’t see them... can’t visit them. And yet,” he shook his head, “I don’t blame you. I know that you only wanted to protect them, and that you did what you thought was best. I-don’t-blame-you,” he echoed, each word impregnated with meaning.
Quinn didn’t reply, her mind seemed to have gone completely blank. She could only stare at him in wonder, letting the words sink in slowly and trying to process what they meant.
“I’m going to get some sleep,” he sighed. “You should too, it’s been a...” he trailed off, gazing at her again in the same way he had at Sarah’s. “Well, anyway, get some rest.” Without waiting for a reply, he left the room.
Quinn slumped onto the sofa, pulling one of the cushions against her chest, trying to assuage the pain that had settled there, deep inside her. Tristan may have been an absent father most of the time, but, to his credit, he had always visited his children, certainly more than her own father had visited her, and probably more than any other male Guardian ever had. And Quinn’s own actions had resulted in the children being removed, taken where neither of them could have access to them. Why had it never occurred to her before? Because he never made you feel responsible, a small voice answered in her head. Because, just like he said, he had never blamed her. Quinn didn’t think she had ever felt so awful in her life. She had blamed him for everything – held it against him like a weapon she could use to shield her own heart. Tristan was selfless and forgiving. Far more than she had ever been. It was a bitter pill to swallow.
Chapter 38
Surfacing from a restless sleep late that afternoon Quinn discovered Tristan was gone.
“He said he had some stuff to take care of up north,” Rafe informed her casually. “He left about an hour ago; said he may as well head straight for Summerfeld when he was done and that he’d meet us there.”
Quinn nodded, forcing a smile.
“How do you feel?”
“Okay,” he replied. “I’m glad it’s over.”
“Me too,” she replied without thinking. Rafe blinked, concern coming over him.
“I didn’t... I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
Quinn was saved from having to lie to him by the sound of the doorbell.
“I thought I’d bring you some cake,” Sarah announced, dumping half a vanilla round on the kitchen counter.
“Thanks, saves me cooking. Do you want any?”
“No, I’ve had,” Sarah took a seat at one of the high stools as Quinn took out a huge slice of cake for Rafe. “Where’s Tristan?” Sarah asked as soon as she returned.
“He left,” Quinn sat opposite her friend, spearing a piece of sponge with her fork. She suddenly found she had no appetite. Her initial shock that Tristan would leave Rafe here with only her as protection was tempered by the fact that Tristan had no knowledge of the vampires residing in Brookfield.
“Left? When?” Sarah continued, oblivious.
“Early this morning.”
“Where did he go?”
“I have no idea.” Her curt answers did not dissuade Sarah’s questioning in the slightest.
“Did something happen?” she probed. Quinn dropped her fork with a clatter.
“I really don’t want to talk about it,” she murmured.
She could see Sarah itching for more information, but she surrendered to Quinn’s need for privacy and changed the subject.
“So, where are you off to tomorrow?”
“Meyerton,” Quinn answered automatically, picking a city at random. “I have a few clients out that way who I need to touch base with before they forget who I am.”
“When will you be back?”
“I’m not sure,” she replied evasively, but when she met Sarah’s gaze she realised that Sarah knew. She knew that Quinn was not being truthful – possibly realised that she might not be coming back.
“Okay,” Sarah relented, pushing back her stool. “Well, travel safely, and I’ll see you when... when you get back.” Quinn followed her to the door wanting to say something, but not sure how. This is why Guardians don’t become friendly with humans she thought angrily. It hurts too much to say goodbye.
“I’ll see you,” she said as they faced each other at the doorway.
Sarah’s smile didn’t reach her eyes, but she visibly pulled herself together and said, with a wry grin, “Probably sooner than you think – I’ll stop by after dinner to fetch my dish.”
Quinn laughed.
/> “Okay, I’ll see you later then.”
“Bye, Rafe!” Sarah called and a muted reply emanated from the living-room.
“Bye,” she smiled, gazing at Quinn, and then, suddenly, she leaned forward and hugged her tightly, before skipping down the porch steps and disappearing around the side of the house.
Quinn closed the door just as Rafe emerged from the living-room.
“Time to pack up,” she said. They would leave in the morning. She couldn’t wait any longer. She owed Tristan an apology.
Rafe sauntered around, throwing his belongings, which were strewn all over the house, into a bag. Permanently packed, ready to leave at a moment’s notice, Quinn found herself moving from room to room, straightening cushions and wiping down surfaces as she waited for Rafe to go to bed. Only then could she safely access the hidden room. She hadn’t decided yet if she would bring her crystal back with her to Summerfeld. If she left it behind, she would have a reason to come back – to return to Brookfield and the people she was leaving behind. But Guardians avoided ties with the inhabitants of man’s realm at all costs, so why was she even considering it?
“You are going to get square eyes,” she muttered as she passed Rafe watching TV.
“What does that even mean?” he asked, gazing at her, bewildered.
“It’s just something my mom used to say. I’m going to put that cake in the fridge before Sarah comes to fetch her dish.” As she stepped into the kitchen she heard the doorbell.
“Too late,” Rafe called, and she heard the sofa creak as he got up to let Sarah in.
Quinn froze when she heard Drake’s voice. Hurtling from the kitchen, dropping the last of the cake on the tiles in the process, she careened into the hall. Rafe may have been depressed and unperceptive over the past few days, but he was still a natural protector, and one look at her ashen face told him all he needed to know. Turning back towards the door, he snarled – a low, guttural sound that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.
She quickly assessed the situation – Rafe bristling with aggression, while Drake stood calmly in the doorway, making no move to enter. He looked only mildly amused by the scene unfolding before him, and, as Rafe turned to check on Quinn, Drake gave her a lazy smile. Rafe would not know, nor could he sense Drake’s vampirism – he would not suspect Drake to be a threat - he was simply reacting to Quinn’s obvious anxiety. Rafe was weakened and would be no match for the vampire – Quinn knew she had to diffuse the situation. Forcing a smile, which felt more like a grimace, she smoothed down her shirt.
“Drake!” she feigned pleasant surprise, “I wasn’t expecting you!”
“Apparently,” he drawled sardonically.
“You know him?” Rafe asked, his voice still far too low to be entirely human. “Yes,” Quinn assured him, deliberately holding his gaze longer than she needed to, trying to convey a hidden message. Rafe didn’t need to know that Drake was a vampire, but he did need to get out of here, now. She could hardly believe Drake’s restraint, coming to face-to-face with a ward of Summerfeld. The incredible self-control he must be exerting would not go without great personal sacrifice. He must be hurting. Rafe regarded her steadily for a moment, then, with an imperceptible nod of her head, she gestured towards the living-room. Showing the natural respect the wards have for the Guardians, Rafe complied, throwing one last filthy look over his shoulder at Drake before he disappeared around the corner. Quinn slumped against the doorframe, her knees weak.
“It’s a good thing you’re the type of woman who keeps her head in a crisis,” Drake teased. Quinn wasn’t in the mood for jokes.
“What are you doing here?”
“I needed to speak to you. It seemed only logical to knock.” He seemed perfectly calm, but Quinn’s Guardian instinct was on high alert and she couldn’t even attempt to relax while he was in such close proximity to Rafe.
“Rafe, I’m just stepping out!” she called out in his general direction, moving out onto the porch and shutting the front door firmly behind her. Drake followed her down the porch steps and onto the neat front lawn, away from the lights of the house.
“Where is the male Guardian?” Drake asked. He could not sense Tristan anywhere inside the house.
“Not here,” Quinn replied curtly.
“Do you ever go anywhere without that thing?” he mused, and she followed his gaze downward, to her right boot.
“No,” she confirmed. “Never.” A Guardian without a stake wouldn’t be much of a Guardian.
“I’m leaving tonight,” Drake got straight to the point. “I’m going to see a coven I know not far from here. They may have information regarding your sister. I thought you might like to know.”
“I’m leaving too.” It suddenly occurred to Quinn that once she returned to Summerfeld, Drake would have no means of contacting her. If he did uncover any information about Avery’s murder, Quinn needed to know about it. “Let me give you my number.” She couldn’t think of any other way to stay in contact with him, but the thought of giving him her number – giving a vampire a means to contact a Guardian – filled her with apprehension. Drake pulled a black phone from the pocket of his jeans, a remarkably human gesture, and Quinn couldn’t hide a small smile, despite the fact that her stomach was tied up in knots.
“What is it?” he asked, and Quinn recited her number carefully. He punched it into his phone and then pocketed it again.
Quinn gnawed her lip, wondering how on earth she had gotten into this mess.
“What’s wrong?” he mused, sensing her distress.
“It’s just surreal. This is so messed up.”
“What is?”
“This!” she laughed hysterically. “You know, just a few weeks ago my life was perfectly ordinary. I was just another face in the crowd raising two children. Now, I’m trying to protect a werewolf outside of the City and I’m colluding with vampires. Vampires!” she snorted hysterically. “I’m a Guardian, for God’s sake!”
“That doesn’t define you,” he spoke, the words surprisingly candid. “And you’re colluding with one vampire... only one.”
“You know what I mean,” she countered.
“I know what you mean,” his teeth gleamed in the darkness as he smiled at her. “Oh, and Quinn,” he added, his green eyes boring into hers, “I doubt you could ever be just another face in the crowd.”
Quinn didn’t know how to respond. She didn’t even know if he was insulting her or meant it as a compliment, but he didn’t give her the opportunity to ask.
“I’ll be in touch,” he promised, and, with only a slight breeze marking his departure, he disappeared into the gloomy night.
Quinn stared at the place where he had stood for a long moment, praying she had done the right thing, when her phone rang abruptly in her pocket. The sudden noise, in stark contrast to the quiet stillness of the front garden, made her jump. Her first thought was that Drake was testing the number she had given him, but then she saw her father’s number on the screen.
“Yes?” she answered. Daniel must have given her number to the Guardians.
“Is Rafe still with you?” her father asked.
“Yes.”
“You need to get back to the City immediately. Bring him with you.”
“We’re leaving first thing in the morning.”
“Leave now,” he instructed and then, “Channon was attacked.”
“Oh God... is she okay? Who...”
“We’ll talk about it when you get here. Just hurry – and don’t tell Rafe anything, Isaiah wants to do it.”
“I can’t keep it from him!” Quinn protested loudly, and then, casting a quick glance over her shoulder at the house, she lowered her voice. “He needs to know.”
“His mother is dead, Quinn.”
“What?” Quinn couldn’t believe it. “What happened?”
“The new Alpha happened.” Her father’s grim tone suggested he was as affected as she was. Vivienne had been much loved and admired by all t
he Guardians. She had been a kind and surprisingly gentle soul for a wolf, and even without the blood allegiance they would have protected her.
“How is Raina?” Raina was Vivienne’s daughter, sired by Grayson, who had ousted Rafe’s father. While technically half-siblings, Rafe and Raina had no relationship to speak of, but the fact remained that they had both just lost their mother. Selfishly, considering the circumstances, Quinn wondered if this tragedy might serve as a catalyst to bring them together as a family.
“Not good,” Braddon admitted.
“I have to tell Rafe,” Quinn murmured, her voice thick with emotion.
“Let Isaiah deal with it. That’s an order.”
“You know you can’t really give me orders, right?” Quinn had surpassed her father’s skill years ago, and even if she hadn’t, no one Guardian has authority over any other. Daniel and Isaiah were obeyed out of respect, not custom, and big decisions were always put to a vote.
“Isaiah has asked you not to mention it.”
Knowing Isaiah would have good reason for asking, Quinn relented.
“We’ll be on the road in under an hour. I’ll see you in two days.” She snapped the phone shut and shoved it into her pocket.
Quinn couldn’t go inside, not yet. An image blossomed in her mind, of a younger Vivienne teaching her and Avery how to make pancakes. Vivienne had treated the girls with infinite kindness when they had first become Guardians, encouraging them to enjoy the simple pleasures of life despite the burdens they carried. She had gone a long way to filling the void that their mother’s death had left in their hearts. Quinn’s blood burned with the loss of one of Summerfeld’s most treasured members, as well as the agony of losing a dear friend. Unbidden, tears welled in her eyes and she sank to the ground, weeping.
Covering her face with her hands, she tried to pull herself together. She wasn’t entirely sure when she became aware of him, but slowly it dawned on her that she wasn’t alone. Raising her tear-streaked face, her eyes met Drake’s. He was standing only a few feet away regarding her intently.
“What do you want?” she croaked. He made no move towards her, but there was a softness in his glacial eyes that she hadn’t seen before.
Guardians of Summerfeld: Full Series: Books 1-4 Page 23