Guardians of Summerfeld: Full Series: Books 1-4

by Melissa Delport

  “Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault.”

  “How exactly are we chosen?”

  Quinn frowned. “I’m not sure. The Guardians are always descendants of the original twelve families, but there has never been a clear pattern.” She hesitated before bringing up the topic she dreaded. “I couldn’t help but notice your wedding ring.”

  Oliver automatically lifted his left hand to look at it and a sad smile came over his face.

  “I’ve only been married six months,” he said. “Maggie and I started dating in high school. We wanted to live together, you know, but her parents are a little old school. They weren’t having any of it unless we got married; so we did.”

  “I’m sorry,” Quinn said, the words sounding ridiculously inadequate.

  “So am I,” Oliver admitted. He was fiddling with the ring now, twisting it around and around on his finger. “I called her, you know.”

  “You what?”

  “Maggie. I called her just after I left, before I dumped my phone. I told her I had to go away – that I needed time. I told her it wasn’t anything she’d done but I’m pretty sure she didn’t believe me. She was crying when I hung up. I can’t get the sound out of my head.”

  Quinn didn’t know what to say. Even Liam, who had remained silent throughout the conversation, looked sick to the stomach.

  “Maybe once this is all over you could go back,” Quinn suggested. After all, Braddon had visited her mother frequently when she was alive and Quinn had managed to live in the realm of man for two years with the Guardians’ permission. She would do this for Oliver. Once they had opened the Rose Gate and restored the City she would advocate that Oliver be given leave to spend more time with his wife.

  “I’m immortal now,” Oliver pointed out. “Maggie is going to grow old and die. It might be easier to simply leave her alone. In time she’ll move on.”

  “At least you’ll get the chance to say goodbye,” Quinn said, but the words were futile and Oliver obviously didn’t want to discuss it anymore.

  “Are there any other original Guardians or was Isaiah the last?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

  “There’s one left,” Quinn smiled, shrugging off her melancholy in favour of further educating their newest recruit. “You’ll meet Daniel later.”

  “He’s quite something,” Liam added, speaking for the first time now that they were back in more familiar territory.

  “He’s something all right,” Quinn teased, winking.

  Daniel and the others arrived in the afternoon. Quinn hugged Braddon and Avery, although she could tell immediately that her sister was agitated. Before she could question her, however, Daniel pulled Quinn aside. “Austin and Piper are guarding the wards so we’re all here. What’s the plan?”

  “We should go now,” Quinn confirmed, “while their movements are limited by the light.” Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Tristan emerging from one of the cars, Garrett keeping guard beside him. She didn’t question his presence here but it did explain Avery’s mood. Even as she watched, she saw Avery casting hateful glances at her husband. The sooner they got going the better. Quickly, Quinn introduced Oliver to the others and then called everyone to gather round.

  “Has everyone got their crystals?” Quinn asked and the Guardians nodded. She noticed that they were all looking at her differently now that they had heard the prophecy. Even Liam and Monique, who hadn’t known about it before but had quickly been filled in, were eyeing her curiously. It made her feel both humbled and petrified that she might let them all down. They were relying on her. Only Oliver seemed unaffected by the news. Quinn had to remind herself that everything was new to him. He hadn’t studied the Sacred Book, so he would simply accept this information as he had everything else, as though it was perfectly normal.

  At Quinn’s question, Daniel held up a small velvet pouch, containing Tristan’s, Piper’s and Austin’s crystals but before Quinn could take it from him a rustling sound reached them. As one, the Guardians stiffened, turning to face the possible threat.

  “Ouch!” a familiar voice cursed, and Quinn’s eyes widened as Jonas emerged from the dense bush, followed by Channon and her pack.

  Daniel found his voice first. “What in Eldon’s name are you doing here?” he demanded.

  “You know why we’re here, Daniel,” Channon replied coolly. “And you can spend the next half hour reprimanding me, or you can simply accept that we’re here to help and tell us what you need us to do.”

  Quinn noticed Jonas scanning the group and she moved quickly to his side.

  “She’s airborne,” she murmured. “The Orochian was getting agitated so she took him up. She’s fine. And you shouldn’t be here,” she added.

  “I’ll stay out of the way. I didn’t come here to do anything stupid, I just needed to be here, you know…” Quinn did know. She felt the same pull toward Drake. And because she knew exactly how Jonas felt, she let the matter rest.

  Daniel and Channon were involved in a silent stand-off, neither prepared to apologise or justify their decisions.

  “We’re running out of time,” Quinn cautioned, stepping between them. “Channon, the plan is to get in and out of the City before nightfall. We’re going for the Gate, obviously, so we only need to access the Cathedral. No one is venturing inside the City. Ideally, I’d prefer it if you didn’t come down there, but I’m not going to waste time arguing with you. You’re the Alpha – you can decide for yourself. What I will ask is that you give us a chance to do this alone. If we’re not back by dark then you do what you need to do.” Daniel scowled, but he didn’t contradict her.

  After a long moment Channon nodded. “We’ll wait,” she relented.

  “Thank you. Now,” she turned to Daniel, holding out her hand, “give me the crystals.” Taking the pouch from him she opened it and held it out. “Everyone put your crystals inside,” she instructed. Nobody argued and, one by one, the others dropped their crystals into the opening. Once all the stones were safely inside, including her own, Quinn withdrew Monique’s emerald and the Hawkstone from her pocket and added them to the rest. The velvet seemed to grow warmer, as though life had been breathed into the stones. Quinn slung the drawstring around her neck and the velvet settled snugly against her chest. The weight was reassuring, rather than cumbersome. She knew, somehow, that she should be the one to carry it. It was her burden to bear; her responsibility.

  “Oliver,” Quinn beckoned him over. “You haven’t had any training and you don’t know what we’re up against. I want you to stay here. If Channon chooses to come down there, then you’re free to make up your own mind.” She didn’t need to paint a picture. If the wolves needed to come to their aid, the chances were that the Guardian would never leave Cliffdale. Oliver nodded, his eyes sombre, reflecting that he understood.

  “Well, I guess that’s it, then,” Quinn nodded at those who would be accompanying her. “Let’s get this done.”

  Chapter 28

  The seven of them sprinted through the trees, Quinn and Daniel leading the way. Tristan was sandwiched between Liam and Garrett, on Daniel’s other side. His hands were bound, but he moved just as quickly as the others, keeping his eyes downcast as they raced across the uneven terrain. Braddon and Avery were on Quinn’s right, and it occurred to Quinn that the Ormondes were not the only strong bloodline in the Guardian ranks. The Hardens had just as much of a presence. When they reached the flat plateau that edged the boundary between man’s realm and Summerfeld, Quinn sensed Drake for the first time since she had left him early that day. Through his eyes she caught a glimpse of herself running past. The vision was fleeting, but it comforted her to know that he was close by. She turned her head in the direction he was watching from, but she saw nothing but trees and endless green. He was just inside the tree line, a shadow that she couldn’t see, but she could sense him. He wouldn’t speak to her now, not when she needed to focus, and Quinn resisted the urge to reach out to him herself. Her fingers tightene
d on the crossbow she held in her right hand. Between the bow, her sword and the weighted stake belt at her waist, Quinn was armed to the hilt.

  Pounding onward they crested the hill that marked their final descent into the City itself. The familiar road beneath her feet gave Quinn wings and, rather than tiring, she sped up. Her Slayer instinct picked up their presence – the presence of so many vampires in one place was impossible to miss, even from this distance. The Cathedral loomed ahead, most of the windows smashed, but the majestic sight still took Quinn’s breath away. They sped up again as they approached, the Cathedral drawing them in. This place, that had been their home for so long, seemed to eagerly await their return. They weren’t going to sneak into their own home, not that it would do them any good. The vampires inside the Cathedral, at least, would have seen them by now. They would know they were coming. The Guardians weren’t trying to hide. They were storming the castle.

  Vaulting up the front steps, Quinn burst through the doors first. She skidded to an impressive halt just inside the doors and the others stopped right behind her. Clustered together in the middle of the room, away from the windows, the group of vampires snarled at them, their fangs bared. Staying within the radius of light shining in through the door Quinn surveyed them all, each indistinguishable from the next.

  “Which one?” she threw the question over her shoulder at Tristan. Garrett pushed him forward. Tristan considered the vampires for only a moment before shaking his head.

  “He’s not here.” Quinn had hardly expected the king of all vampires to be skulking around in the Cathedral during daylight hours, but it was still a disappointment that Aleksei wasn’t here. No matter, she thought, there would be time to search for him later.

  Though Aleksei himself was not present, the Cathedral showed visible signs of his destructive hatred. The Guardian table was intact, every inch of its surface covered in scrolls and texts which Quinn recognised as being from the record room, but, other than that, the rest of the hall was chaos. The statue of King Eldon had been desecrated and chunks of marble lay scattered all over the floor, interspersed with smaller fragments of rainbow-coloured glass. A quick sweep of the room and Quinn realised that his devastation had partially hidden the altar. It was no wonder he hadn’t seen the markings on the base which symbolised the key to the Rose Gate. If he had, Quinn had no doubt that the altar would have been far more heavily guarded. It occurred to her then that Tristan had, at least, told the truth about one thing. He hadn’t revealed the location of the Rose Gate. Despite everything he had done, perhaps he was redeemable.

  Quinn’s sword was sheathed at her back and she held Lenora’s crossbow in her hand. Raising it to shoulder height she moved deliberately forward while the other Guardians fanned out beside her. The vampires they faced had the good sense to look alarmed, but they had nowhere to run. They hadn’t been expecting an attack and the sudden arrival had left no time to strategise. The Guardians had stormed down the hill so quickly that the vampires had had little time to do anything.

  The pouch hanging around Quinn’s neck seemed to throb and pulse as though the crystals could sense the Rose Gate. Quinn glimpsed the altar again through the huddled group of vampires and her resolve strengthened. This was why they were here. Without a thought for the monsters who stood in her way, she aimed the crossbow and fired. The trigger reacted to her touch and a bolt shot straight through the heart of a lithe, swarthy vampire. Quinn had reloaded before the others knew what had hit them and she fired again before they had a chance to move. The swift death of a second vampire spurred the others into action. They separated, darting around pillars and taking cover in the shadows of the larger stone remnants of King Eldon’s statue. The other Guardians charged, leaving Quinn alone with Tristan in the safety of the light. The crossbow was only effective from a distance and if she had time to reload. As the others herded the vampires from their hiding places, Quinn took every opportunity presented. The second a vampire emerged from hiding, driven out by the fierce attack of the Guardians, she fired, over and over again, with lethal precision, until she ran out of bolts.

  “Try not to hurt yourself!” she yelled at Tristan, who stood still, immobilised, in the open doorway. The sun would protect him, but she was disgusted that he hadn’t made a move to help the others. Tossing the bow aside, she unsheathed her sword, the silver glinting, casting a rainbow of colour on the floor as the sun’s rays reflected off it. “Here,” she sliced through the ropes binding his hands in one clean sweep. She couldn’t leave him entirely defenceless in the heat of a fight. If he got pushed into the shadows, the vampires would destroy him. She doubted Charlotte’s protection still applied. Tristan cringed as the sword swooped toward him. “I wouldn’t kill you,” Quinn hissed as his ropes fell away. She quickly pulled a stake from her belt and thrust it into his open hand. “I need you alive to identify Aleksei. But, if you try to run, you’re a dead man.”

  Without another word she broke into a run, moving into the shadows and startling a vampire who was stupid enough to try to make a run for it. He had been headed toward the record room when Quinn intercepted him, but, as she raised the sword he snarled, crouching into a defensive pose. He lunged aside as Quinn brought the sword down, trying to avoid the lethal blade as it streaked toward him, but it sliced clean through his shoulder bone, cleaving his arm from his body. His scream of pain was cut off a second later as Quinn swung the sword wide and decapitated him.

  Watch your three, Drake’s voice resonated in her head, and she twisted to the right as another vampire launched himself at her, running him through with the sword. His weight fell forward, and Quinn lifted her boot-clad foot, shoving against his chest as she pulled the sword free. A gurgling sound rose in his throat, but his body remained pale as ever. Lifting the sword, she sliced cleanly through his neck, watching with grim satisfaction as his skin started to grey.

  The other Guardians were faring well, taking down the remainder of the group faster than Quinn had expected. As the last vampire fell to Braddon’s stake, a shadow passed across the doorway, and the Guardians turned defensively toward it. Quinn knew it was Drake before she had even turned around, by the shooting pain in her head, but before she could question what he was doing here, a movement to her left caught her eye.

  Tristan had not made any move to join in the fray or, if he had, Quinn certainly hadn’t seen it. He stood perfectly still midway between the door and the altar, his stake held limply in his hand. He had his back to Quinn, but it wasn’t Tristan who had drawn her attention. It was Avery, creeping up behind him. Her sister had used the diversion of the fighting as an opportunity to fulfil the promise she had made Tristan. Quinn watched as Avery raised her stake. Tristan had to know she was there. He was a Guardian, after all, and he possessed all of their exceptional skills and heightened senses. Tristan finally turned around and looked at his wife. He didn’t glance up at the stake but the acceptance of defeat shone in his eyes. Quinn could not see Avery’s expression, but she knew that if Avery did this - if she succeeded in killing Tristan - she would never come back from it. She would never be able to return to being the person she once was; the sister who Quinn had loved her whole life would be gone forever.

  “Avery!” Quinn heard her father’s bellow as he too spotted Avery, but Quinn knew that none of them had a hope of getting through to her.

  “Drake!” she yelled instead, knowing that no-one else had a hope of reaching Avery in time. Drake moved, just as Tristan closed his eyes. Faster than Quinn believed possible, Avery brought the stake crashing down. Drake knocked Tristan aside just in time, the Guardian falling hard against a nearby pillar. In one swift motion, Drake jerked the stake from Avery’s grasp, tossing it aside. Avery’s wail of despair cut right through Quinn, tearing her up from the inside and she watched helplessly as Avery beat her fists against Drake’s chest, an acid rain of insults hailing down on him with every vicious blow. Drake’s mouth was set in a grim line and Quinn almost expected him to react to Ave
ry’s violent attack. Instead, Drake did something that shocked Quinn more than anything she had expected. He pulled Avery toward him, his strong arms locking her in place. For a horrific moment Quinn thought he might hurt her, but then she realised he was cradling Avery against his chest as you would a child. Avery’s body went rigid for only a second, trying to escape his hold on her, and then she collapsed against him, heaving sobs wracking her shoulders. Quinn’s head filled with compassion - her own, as well as Drake’s - as, for once, they were both thinking exactly the same thing.

  “Quinn!” Daniel’s voice snapped her back to the importance of the task at hand. Drake pulled Avery gently toward the door, easing the pain of the bond ever so slightly with each step. Shaking herself, Quinn turned to Garrett.

  “Keep an eye on Tristan,” she instructed. Garret didn’t hesitate. Quinn had officially taken up the mantle as leader and all the Guardians heeded her every word. Garrett moved immediately over to where Tristan lay dazed and defeated on the stone floor, the stake Quinn had given him lying innocently on the ground a few feet away. Garrett gazed down at Tristan with a mixture of pity and disgust, reflecting Quinn’s own thoughts. He hadn’t even raised a hand to defend himself.

  Quinn rushed toward the altar, pulling the drawstring pouch from her neck as she went. Daniel, Liam and Braddon were right behind her.

  “Hold this,” Quinn handed the pouch to Daniel, who shook the crystals out onto the floor at their feet. Quinn’s fingers traced the indentations on the altar, glancing down at the stones. The intricate pattern had been cleverly designed to resemble a simple flower-like shape, but when you looked at the crystals it was easy to see where each stone was meant to be placed. The circular groove in the centre was the exact shape and size of the Hawkstone.

  With a hand that trembled slightly, Daniel passed Quinn the first crystal, the small, circular aquamarine that she immediately recognised as Avery’s. Quinn’s heart constricted as the sight of it, but she held her emotion in check as she inserted the crystal into its rightful place. Next, the amber that Quinn had possessed for a century, which now belonged to Austin. A tiny garnet that made Quinn think of Piper. Emerald, tanzanite, the onyx that she had so recently passed to her father, which had belonged to Blair, one by one the crystals aligned and Quinn felt a humming within the altar. She inserted the next crystal, a ruby, then a thin amethyst fragment, and the humming increased, a force that Quinn could not explain or describe. It travelled through the altar and into Quinn’s hands as she worked. Two more crystals and then Daniel placed his diamond in her hand. Heavier than the rest, Quinn took a second to admire it for the last time before placing it in the altar. The altar was physically vibrating now and a large crack appeared at the base, through which shone a light brighter than the sun. Shielding her eyes, Quinn placed the sapphire into the last slot, the stone which now belonged to her and which represented a great loss and the monumental responsibility of the Slayer.