They reached the unicorn glade faster than Quinn had expected and Dessa slowed to a boisterous canter, tossing her head and stamping the ground, her delighted snorting interspersed with the heaving of her flanks. Quinn glanced around and took in her surroundings. They were skirting the edge of the riverbank opposite the waterfall where the main herd came to drink. That was Primera’s land and only his herd could gather there. Dessa’s smaller herd, and others like them, were relegated to the opposite side of the river, drinking from the smaller tributaries that ran through the glade. Dessa had once reigned beneath the shadow of the waterfall, before her infertility, when she had held pride of place at Primera’s side.
Quinn dismounted, stroking Dessa’s thick neck and feeling the muscle rippling beneath her hand. Dessa’s head came up, suddenly, and her nostrils flared as her big black eyes fixed on something in the distance. Quinn watched as Primera emerged from behind a rocky outcrop on the opposite bank, proud and majestic, his spiralled horn dazzling against the darkening night. Dessa’s tail twitched and she let out a low mournful whinny.
“You and me both, girl,” Quinn soothed, pulling at her ear as she dropped her head onto Quinn’s shoulder.
But Quinn was being offered a second chance at happiness. Tristan had admitted that he might have made a mistake choosing Avery, and, while Quinn should be angry on her sister’s behalf, his admission had instead made her feel warm and desirable. He had not said it without contrition, in fact, Quinn suspected that his guilt was eating him alive and, above all, she didn’t want him to feel that way.
“Avery would’ve wanted us to be happy,” she murmured into Dessa’s neck, echoing the same words Tristan had uttered just a few weeks ago. Had he known then that this might happen? Did he already have feelings for her? Had his conscience already plagued him so that, in a fit of despair, he had consoled himself with those very words?
Quinn watched the opposite bank as, one by one, the main herd emerged behind Primera, white statues in the dying light. Zinnia appeared last, her coat so dazzling it looked pure silver. Dessa gave another low, mournful whinny and, even across the distance between them, Quinn saw Zinnia’s head jerk up at the sound and then her front legs reared up, kicking out at the air before her, as she tossed her head haughtily. Beside Quinn, Dessa’s ears flattened against her head and her body trembled with hostility.
“Easy, girl,” Quinn soothed, figuring it was probably time to go. Grabbing hold of Dessa’s mane, Quinn pulled herself up, and with the gentlest squeeze of her thighs, the receptive mare broke once again into a gallop, the ground flying beneath them in a blur.
Windswept and flushed, Quinn dropped to the ground, crushing cornflowers under her boots. Thanking Dessa with a final tug of her white ears, Quinn patted the mare’s rump and Dessa trotted off, her tail swishing behind her. Quinn’s mind refused to shut down and so, instead of heading home, she made her way across town and back to the fountain, crossing the Gateway into the Cathedral. The second she felt the cool, draughty air of the Cathedral, she turned and walked past the council table, deliberately not looking at it. Passing the infirmary, where Channon was probably asleep, with Rafe watching over her, she proceeded right to the back of the Cathedral, entering a dark narrow tunnel. Making her way through a labyrinth of twists and turns, she finally reached the training-room, the place where she had learned how to fight vampires.
Desperately craving the mindless physical exertion that would block out the thoughts running riot through her head, Quinn flicked the light switch. The Cathedral, though enchanted to make it undetectable to humans, was still technically within the realm of man, and as such, had power, run off generators under the ground. The Guardians had installed heating and lighting in the Cathedral building in the mid-1900s, but remained “off the grid” so to speak. Quinn still held out the hope that one day they might figure out how to extend the power supply into the City itself, but she doubted they would ever be able to transport a generator through the portal, and besides, with the amount of magic that permeated the City, it probably wouldn’t work even if they did.
Quinn stripped off her mauve sweater, revealing a tight black tank top underneath and dropped it on the floor near the door. Moving over to the shelf that housed the training stakes, she selected a heavy silver stake she had always favoured, the weight making its impact far more deadly. Moving along to the padded dummies, Quinn immediately launched into a series of lethal thrusts, the metal impaling the foam, leaving deep gouges wherever she struck. Eventually, dropping the stake, she practised kicking and punching, the automatic rebound of the dummy making it as life-like as possible.
Over and over she lunged toward it, taking out all of her frustration and energy. Her body gleamed with sweat and dark patches blossomed over the front and back of her top. Quinn ignored the burn that started in her muscles and slowly worked its way through her entire body. Her hands ached and two of her knuckles had split, but still she attacked, her sole frustration being that the dummy could not fight back.
Only when she neared the point of complete collapse did she finally stop, ending her session with one last kick to what would be the dummy’s abdomen. Gasping for breath, she tossed the stake back on the pile carelessly and turned towards the door.
“Impressive as always,” Isaiah spoke from the shadows near the door where he stood watching. “I see that you have not been idle in your absence, but then you have always taken your training more seriously than any other new Guardian,” Quinn knew that by ‘new’ he meant all the other Guardians except Daniel and himself. He held out her sweater as she approached and Quinn used it to mop the sweat from her face and neck.
“It’s been a rough day,” she replied sardonically, not in the mood for Isaiah’s preaching.
“Well then, I can only hope that tomorrow will be a better one.”
Quinn thought of Jack and Ava and the fact that there was hope she might see them both again soon, and her spirits lifted considerably.
“How is Channon?” she asked softly.
“Much better for Rafe being here. He gives her strength.”
“Not for long. The full moon is in less than a month. Caleb will attack him as soon as he turns. If you really intend to return Rafe to Summerfeld, his days are numbered.”
“We have no choice, Quinn,” he reminded her. “And besides, Rafe wants to go back. He knows that Caleb will continue to wreak his fury on innocent members of the pack until he returns.”
“I still think Caleb should be removed.”
“If only it were that simple, but, as I have told you, Caleb poses a greater threat outside the City than he does within its boundaries. We can at least exercise a modicum of control while he is here.”
“Tell that to Vivienne.”
“Vivienne’s death is proof that we need to send Rafe back. We cannot afford for any more innocents to fall.”
Quinn could understand the logic but that didn’t mean she had to like it. Isaiah seemed to sense that she did not want to talk about it any further, and he stepped aside, away from the doorway.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Quinn murmured as she passed. Of all the Guardians, Isaiah was the one she most respected, and deep down she knew that he was simply the messenger. He did not want to see Rafe hurt any more than she did. He alone had gone to Channon’s rescue and stood against the Alpha in order to bring her back to safety. Isaiah was a brave and wise Guardian and Quinn had to accept that his proposal was in the best interests of everyone concerned.
“Quinn,” Isaiah called as she moved further down the corridor, “everything will work out, whether you choose to believe it or not.”
“I hope so,” she smiled sadly, and then continued on without looking back.
Chapter 44
Quinn woke early the next morning, dressing quickly and heading straight for the fountain. To her surprise, Tristan was already there, waiting for her.
“I wanted to see you before the meeting,” he admitted as soon as she reac
hed him, “just to make sure that we’re okay.” Quinn searched his face and saw only concern and apprehension mirrored in his eyes.
“We’re okay,” she confirmed, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. “We’ll figure it out.” He squeezed back, gently, relief coursing over him. “For now let’s focus on Jack and Ava. Together,” she added.
They crossed through the portal and the sound of activity reached them immediately. Daniel and the other Hunters were back. Blair had a bandage wrapped around her right shoulder and Garrett was sporting a spectacular black eye, but Daniel and Liam appeared unscathed. They were in the middle of a conversation with Isaiah and seemed not to have noticed her arrival.
“Bitten?” Isaiah exclaimed, turning to Liam, who subconsciously rubbed at his neck.
“We took care of it,” Daniel reassured quickly, and a relieved look replaced the concern on Isaiah’s face. Quinn released a deep sigh of relief herself. While a Guardian’s blood did nothing but strengthen a vampire, cloaking them until it had worked its way through their system, and the blood of the Slayer would kill them, a Hunter’s blood supposedly worked differently. If ingested, a blood-bond formed between the Hunter and the vampire who had bitten him or her.
The bond was extremely painful, allowing a telepathic linking of the two minds, which made it easier for the Hunter to track his attacker. The bond could be dangerous if the vampire survived, but the Hunters were hard targets, and, in the rare event that one was bitten, they worked together to destroy the vampire who had bitten their own.
“The bond may be a myth,” Daniel continued, “given that we have never actually seen proof of its existence.”
“You have never allowed a vampire to live once they have fed off a Hunter,” Isaiah pointed out, but Daniel didn’t reply. He had finally noticed Quinn. He opened his mouth to speak to her, but her father beat him to it.
“Quinn,” Braddon approached her directly, a stern expression on his face. “Daniel tells me you have located Avery’s crystal.”
“Braddon!” Daniel barked, drowning out Quinn’s answer, “There is much to discuss. Take a seat.” Quinn sent up a silent prayer of thanks for Daniel’s intervention. It irked her when her father treated her like a child. The Guardians were equal, in every respect, and Braddon being her biological father gave him absolutely no authority over Quinn. Daniel had just reminded Braddon of that fact and put him in his place.
Everyone took their seats; Avery’s place between Tristan and Quinn still glaringly empty. A scuffle at the altar drew everyone’s attention and they turned to see Camille arguing with Isaiah.
“I am sorry, Camille,” Isaiah apologised, “but the council meeting is for Guardians only. Monique is required to be here but you will have to return, or, if you prefer, you may wait outside.” Quinn admired Camille’s resolve. She must have grabbed hold of Isaiah as he came through the portal.
“She is only fifteen!” Camille retorted furiously. “She’s not an adult and I am her mother. I think I have a right to know what’s going on.”
Quinn got to her feet, taking a different approach.
“Camille,” she shepherded her away from the other.
“I have a right, Quinn. You have to tell them...”
“As a mother you have a right to know that your daughter is safe,” Quinn corrected gently, “but as a human, you have no right to witness Guardian business. As to the first point,” she continued quickly when Camille opened her mouth to protest, “I can give you my word that Monique is in no danger. There is nothing that will be discussed here today that has to do directly with her. It is about the children, Tristan’s children,” she added meaningfully. “And another issue that only has to do with my sister. Monique will not be exposed to anything untoward and I promise you that I will relay any information regarding her Guardianship to you.”
Camille eyed her daughter with a pained expression on her face. Monique was only fifteen but she had a maturity about her that had come along with the white tattoo adorning her wrist. The sense of responsibility that came with Eldon’s branding made new Guardians grow up quickly, becoming wise beyond their years. Isaiah was the perfect example. He was the wisest of them all, despite having been only eighteen when Eldon had chosen him as one of the original twelve.
“Camille,” Quinn pressed, holding the older woman’s gaze, “you have my word.” Camille lingered a while still, her face showing every emotion, every reservation and, above all, a deep-seated fear for Monique’s safety.
“Fine,” she relented eventually. “But I swear, Quinn, if anything happens to her... I’m holding you personally responsible.”
“Between you and me,”Quinn murmured, with a conviction that eased Camille’s fears, “we will keep all three of the children safe.”
A silent understanding passed between the two of them, Camille grasping the hidden message in Quinn’s words. She would not allow Monique to be placed in any danger, just as she had fought for her niece and nephew. Appeased, Camille nodded.
“I’ll take you back.”
Quinn took her hand and transported her through the Gateway. Her intention was to return straight away, but Camille held fast to her hand, gripping it tightly.
“Why can’t I do it myself?” she asked, her blue eyes so like Tristan’s it made Quinn’s heart hurt.“Go through it?” She gestured at the fountain.
“Because the fountain is not the Gateway,” she spoke without hesitation. Camille might not be privy to all the Guardian’s secrets but Quinn was determined to tell her as much as she possibly could. Camille was right about one thing – she had a right to know and Quinn trusted her. “And neither is the altar. The Cliffdale Cathedral is merely the location that Eldon selected and it is the only way that we can access the City, but it’s not the Gateway itself.”
“So, what is...?” Camille trailed off in confusion.
“We are,” Quinn replied simply, “the Guardians are the Gateway.”
King Eldon had worked his magic well when he had created the City. It was not enough to find the portal to Summerfeld – you needed a Guardian to take you through it. It was an ingenious charm, because no Guardian would ever allow an enemy of the wards through the Gateway. They would die first.
“I have to go,” Quinn smiled, and Camille finally released her hand. “I know that this is hard for you, but Monique will not survive without us. She is in danger out there, Camille. Now that she has been branded it’s not safe for her to return to your world. She has a target on her head and she needs to learn how to fight – how to defend herself.”
“She’s only a child!” Camille’s eyes welled with tears. “If she’s in that much danger how could you possibly let her out of the City, ever?”
“We will not let her out until she’s ready. Isaiah wouldn’t dream of it. He will prepare her. She will be more than capable of protecting herself.”
“Against the vampires?” she choked on the word.
“Yes,” Quinn replied grimly, “but she’s not a Hunter. That may not seem important, but it is. Ordinary Guardians like me and Monique rarely come into contact with vampires. And when we do, it’s the vampire who should be more afraid.”
“What about your sister?” she posed the question reluctantly, as though it were pulled from her lips against her will. Quinn stiffened; the memory of Avery’s attack never failed to arouse her angst, but she had known Camille would bring it up and she was prepared.
“My sister lived over a hundred years. Twenty-one as a human and almost a hundred as a Guardian. My father has survived three hundred years and Isaiah and Daniel a millennium. Longevity is the last thing you should be worrying about.”
This seemed to calm Camille, who breathed in a shaky breath and exhaled slowly.
“My fifteen-year-old daughter is going to be pitted against vampires,” she murmured, looking set to collapse at the mere thought.
“She’s been pitted against vampires her whole life,” Quinn pointed out wryly. “You both have...
you just never knew it. They feed off humans, remember? At least now if Monique ever encounters one it won’t get the better of her.” She could sense that Camille had many more questions but it had been too long already and she needed to get back.
“We can talk more later,” she promised, “I’ll come by as soon as it’s over.”
“Okay,” Camille smiled and Quinn closed her eyes, muttering something incomprehensible under her breath. “Thank you,” Camille added, but she wasn’t sure Quinn heard her, as she vanished, leaving Camille standing in the cobbled courtyard, alone.
The Cathedral was absolutely silent when Quinn returned, and ten faces turned to face her expectantly as she took her seat once more.
“It’s all sorted,” she announced.
“Where is the crystal?” Typically, Daniel got straight to the point.
“Before I tell you that, I have a request.”
“Quinn,” her father’s low warning was so expected that Quinn fought the urge to roll her eyes.
“I made a mistake,” Quinn snapped, finally getting Daniel’s undivided attention.
Quinn had given it a lot of thought and she had reluctantly accepted that she might have been wrong. The idea of Kellan and Freya raising Jack and Ava would not have been the worst thing that could happen to the children and she would at least have been able to visit them frequently. Her actions however, had put paid to that, and now, with the impending arrival of the Faery couple’s child, it was no longer an option.
“I should have confided in you... all of you,” she added, with a meaningful look at Tristan. “But I didn’t. I was wrong. I realise that now. And I want to ask all of you to consider allowing the children to return to Summerfeld to be raised within the City. I know it’s not customary, but these are extreme circumstances.”
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