Her mother.
Quinn hesitated at the turn in the steps. A gun fired. Glass shattered. The shrieking stopped.
Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. There was no love lost between Quinn and her family, but had Tyler shot—had he—?
And then he was just there, grabbing her hand, yanking the keys out of her fingers, physically picking her up when she couldn’t run with him.
He shoved her into the cab of his truck and she scrambled across the seat to get away from him. He started the ignition and rolled out of the parking place, but not with any great burst of speed.
Quinn couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t stop shaking, and she wondered if she should be diving out of the vehicle right now, running for her life.
“Are you okay?” he said. “Hey, look at me. Are you all right?”
She realized she was making hysterical little keening noises.
Tyler rolled to a stop at the stop sign. A siren kicked up somewhere in the distance.
He looked at her, and she grabbed the door handle, still contemplating leaping out of the vehicle. Her breath shook with panic. “Did you—did you kill them?”
“Are you insane? No!”
“But a gun—a gun—”
“It wasn’t mine. It was Anthony Spinnetti’s.”
She must have looked blank, because he rolled his eyes. “The douche bag with the crack pipe.”
That was a crack pipe?
She stared at him. Her eyes felt too wide. She still couldn’t get a handle on her breathing. “Who got shot?”
“No one. Well, your door frame. I got it out of his hands and threw it through your bedroom window.”
The glass breaking.
But Tyler had wrestled someone with a gun?
He was on Ritchie Highway now, but he glanced over at her. “He was about to come after you. Your brother told him you stole his money. Is that true?”
She put her hands on her cheeks. “No.”
“Maybe a little warning that you were leading me into a dealer’s den would have been in order.”
“I didn’t—I had no idea.”
“Jesus Christ, girl, how long have you been living like that?”
“I don’t—I didn’t know what they were doing.” She felt naïve and stupid, which was ridiculous. She couldn’t wrap her head around this. “You really didn’t shoot them?”
“Sweetheart, I don’t walk around armed. My gun is locked up. I’ll prove it to you when we get to my place.” He paused and ran a hand back through his hair. “Unless . . . do you want to go to the cops? Your neighbors are already calling them, but . . .”
Her life had to be pretty shitty to have two guys offering to take her to the police in the span of one week.
And this time, at first, she did want Tyler to take her to the police station. She’d tell them everything she’d seen, and she’d have him there to back it up.
But then they’d arrest her brother. And possibly her parents. Quinn was only seventeen. Where would they send her? A foster home or something? Or would she be arrested, too?
And what would they do to Jordan? At least her little brother was practically living at his friends’ houses. She hadn’t seen him in over a week. She didn’t have to worry about him coming around.
“No,” she whispered. “No cops.”
“You all right?”
She shook her head. “How do you know that Anthony guy?”
“We went to school together. I didn’t know your brother was Jake Briscoe. Talk about how the mighty have fallen.”
Quinn blinked at him. They’d come to a red light, and it reflected off Tyler’s fair skin and hair, making him look a little softer. “What does that mean?”
“Didn’t he win a scholarship to Duke or something?”
“Yeah. He’s home on a break.”
Tyler looked over. The expression on his face said, Come on, don’t be stupid.
But she must have been, because she didn’t get it. “What?”
“What break? It’s the middle of October. I’m not on break. Why would he be?”
“You think—you think he left school?”
Tyler snorted. “He’s smoking crack with a high school dropout. I’d bet my truck your brother got kicked out of school.”
Kicked out of school. The golden boy.
Quinn wondered if this added a new intensity to her parents’ problems.
And it wasn’t like things were great before.
“Was my mother okay?” she whispered.
“She was lit,” said Tyler. “Where’s your dad?”
Quinn shook her head. “I never know anymore. Sometimes he works nights, but sometimes . . . I try to stay out of there as much as I can.”
And now she’d burned her bridges with Becca and Nick. She had nowhere to go.
Tyler was silent for a long while, and she watched the lights zip by outside his truck.
“You want me to take you somewhere else?” he finally said. “You have a friend you want to stay with or something?”
Quinn shook her head. “You can just—” She had to clear her throat. “I’m all right. You can let me out at the next street corner. I’ll call someone.”
“You think I’m buying that?”
She had no idea what to say. She had no idea what Tyler expected. Just like before, she felt trapped by circumstance. She could get out of this truck and . . . and, what? Sleep on the street? But if she went home with Tyler, would he be looking to hook up?
She kept thinking of the way Anthony had grabbed her ass. He certainly wasn’t the first of her brother’s friends to lay a hand on her. She swallowed.
At least Tyler’s apartment would mean a place to sleep. At least he wasn’t a total stranger.
“Your place is fine,” she said. “If the offer is still open.”
“It is,” he said. He shut up and drove.
Tyler’s apartment was a lot nicer than she was expecting. Hell, it was nicer than her family’s apartment.
Lush wine-colored carpeting stretched everywhere. Two bedrooms were at the back, each massive. One had a king-size bed, the other had two queens. A huge kitchen sported granite countertops. Plush furniture sat everywhere and a huge flat-screen television hung on the wall. It wasn’t immaculately clean or anything—enough comfortable clutter was scattered around that it looked lived in—but Tyler wasn’t a slob.
“Wait,” she said, taking a second look around. “Is this your parents’ place?”
“Yes,” he said. “Sort of. My grandmother used to live here, and they inherited it when she died. They were going to fix it up to sell it, but then they told me I could live here if I did the work.”
She looked around again. “You did all this yourself?”
“Mostly. I had a few friends help me. Mom had the counters installed, but I tore down the old wallpaper and did all the painting. Hung the new cabinets, too.” He shrugged. “It beats a dorm.”
No kidding. Then she had another thought.
“Do you live alone?”
“Yeah.” He hesitated. “My friend Seth was going to move in after he graduated, but . . .” His voice trailed off.
Seth. Seth Ramsey. Quinn knew all about him. “But your friend tried to rape my friend and now he’s in a ton of trouble,” she finished.
Tyler frowned. “He’s not really my friend anymore.”
“Don’t like rapists?” she quipped.
“You going to hold me accountable for something Seth did?”
It was almost the same thing she’d said to Nick. She didn’t know why she was even picking at this. Maybe because she needed to pick at something before her brain exploded.
A crack pipe. In her bedroom. God.
She dropped her backpack on the floor and swung into one of his dining room chairs. “So why isn’t Seth your friend anymore?”
Tyler leaned on the back of a chair and looked at her. “You know I don’t like the Merricks, yeah?”
“It’s come
up once or twice.”
“Fucking with them is one thing. They aren’t supposed to exist. They aren’t supposed to be here. But that’s not—it’s different. What Seth did . . . I could never do . . . that.”
“So it would have been okay if he’d shot her, but raping her is wrong.”
Tyler just stared back at her.
“What?” she said. “I’m trying to figure out your bizarre morality. You’re the one who lit my arm on fire. Didn’t you rough Becca up yourself?”
He didn’t even look ashamed, reminding her that Tyler was no white knight, either. “It’s not my morality,” he said. “I’m not a Guide. Full Elementals are identified and put to death. Period. Who cares if they get a little roughed up on the way?”
“You’re an Elemental,” she said. “Why are you allowed to live?”
His eyes hardened, and she realized she’d struck a nerve. “Because I can’t accidentally destroy an entire town if I have a temper tantrum. You’ve seen the damage they can do. I know you have.”
“You aren’t the only person who lost someone,” she said quietly. “Their parents died in a fire, didn’t they?”
“Yeah, so did Seth’s.”
She hadn’t heard that. Quinn thought about the carnival fire that had killed seven other students. Or the earthquake that had destroyed the bridge near school—and almost killed Becca. Or the arson attacks that had destroyed half a dozen homes—including hers—and killed people in the community. Whole families devastated because of a temper tantrum, as he called it.
She didn’t want Tyler to be right. But a tiny part of her agreed with him. Maybe Gabriel had been saving people, but she knew enough about Nick’s twin brother to know he had a cruel streak every inch as wide as Tyler’s.
“Nick is my friend,” she said quietly. “I don’t care what he is.”
“You should.”
“I don’t. He’s never hurt anyone.”
“How do you know? Have you asked him?”
That question drew her up short. She thought of Nick in the woods behind his house, showing her what he could do. Relax. It’s only wind.
But then he’d told her about the accidental tornado on the soccer field. The storm that had shattered his leg. His abilities had let him heal in record time. What if a normal kid had been caught up in that storm?
What else could Nick do by accident?
“I trust him.” She hesitated. “He warned me to stay away from you.”
Tyler snorted. “Wait, let me put on my surprised face. You want to stay away from me? There’s the door.”
Quinn didn’t move.
Tyler’s eyes didn’t leave hers. “Where was friendly ol’ Nick Merrick when your brother was smacking you around? I don’t see him putting those powers to good use to protect you.”
“He didn’t know,” she whispered.
“Why not? Too busy with another guy?”
She flinched. It was just a little too close to the truth. “Just because Nick didn’t know about my brother doesn’t mean he should be killed.”
“If a lion escapes from the zoo, do you think they should let it run loose, or do you think they should shoot it before it hurts someone?”
“They can shoot a lion with a tranquilizer dart.”
Tyler circled the table, leaning down over her. His voice was intense, but his words were soft. “Or that could piss it off so it causes more damage.”
Her eyes flicked to his lips. She had no idea why he was sexier while he was arguing, but there it was.
“In fact,” he said, “I have a theory.”
“What’s that?” she said.
“If a Guide comes to town to kill them, he’s going to have to be good. Really good. He’s going to have to figure out a way to take them all out at once.”
Quinn swallowed. She didn’t like that he sounded happy about that. He was so hard to classify in her brain: protecting her, kissing her, defending her.
All while wanting her friends dead.
“Why?” she whispered.
Tyler smiled. “Otherwise, he’ll learn what I learned. You just have to mess with one to piss the rest off.”
CHAPTER 15
Nick didn’t make it home until one a.m. He expected to find the house dark and quiet, but Michael was half asleep on the couch, some late-night news program throwing light against the back wall.
He’d hoped to sneak up to his bedroom unnoticed, but Michael sat up and rubbed his eyes when Nick slid the deadbolt on the front door.
“It’s late,” he said quietly.
“Sorry,” Nick said, wondering if he was going to catch any crap about coming home after midnight every night this week.
“How’s Quinn?” Michael said.
Nick shrugged, feeling like the question was a trap. “She’s all right.”
“You okay? You look a little scattered.”
“Just tired. You know.”
“Anything going on?”
Nick’s heart kicked into triple time from all the questions. Michael wasn’t one for small talk. “No. Why?”
Michael picked up the remote and turned off the TV. “What did you do tonight?”
This was starting to look like a round of Let’s Talk, and Nick really didn’t want to play.
He shrugged again. “Nothing really.”
I pissed off Quinn, and probably chased her into the arms of a psychopath.
Yeah, Tyler. Remember him? He used to make our lives hell.
Oh, and I made out with another guy. It’s a miracle our clothes stayed on.
He suspected the latter half was Adam trying not to push him further than he was ready to go. Amazing and excruciating, all slow hands and fierce kissing, broken only when Nick would hesitate. Adam never pushed.
Nick wondered if some of that was for Adam’s own benefit, too.
Knowing what he knew, Nick never pushed, either. It left them tangled in a careful dance of caresses and stronger touches.
He hadn’t wanted to leave.
Michael was studying him. “Gabriel said you and Quinn seem to be getting pretty close.”
Great. Nick dropped into the armchair and wondered how much he could say without incriminating himself. What else had Gabriel said? Did Michael already suspect something?
“She’s going through a lot,” he offered, keeping his eyes on the end table. “At home. You know.”
“You want to talk about it?”
Yes. He did. Emotions wrapped around his neck and jerked tight, and he wanted to tell Michael everything. About Quinn. About Tyler.
But if he talked about them, he’d have to talk about Adam.
For an instant, he hated Quinn for putting him in this position. Then he hated himself for putting her in this position.
This sucked.
He met his older brother’s eyes. “Not really.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “She’ll be all right.”
Like Michael would leave it at that.
His brother inhaled—a loaded breath. Nick braced himself for an interrogation.
Why’d you get all jumpy when Gabriel said gay guys are creepy? Are you gay, Nick? Of course it’s creepy. God, and we’ve been living under the same roof. Jesus, what would Mom and Dad say? Maybe you should sleep in the basement.
But Michael didn’t say any of that. “I need to ask you a favor.”
Nick coughed. He needed to turn his brain off. “What?”
“I feel bad asking, because I know you worked two extra nights this week—”
“It’s fine. What is it?”
His tone was rougher than usual, and Michael looked a bit unsettled. “Tomorrow is Hannah’s birthday. Her parents are taking her out to dinner, and they asked if I’d like to join them.”
Nick went still. So this had nothing to do with him at all. “What’s the favor?”
At this point, he’d do pretty much anything if it took the focus off of him. Paint a replica of Van Gogh’s Starry Night on the ceiling? Sure, Mike. Le
t me get my brush.
“You can say no if you want,” said Michael.
Now all the uncomfortable small talk made sense. Nick’s subconscious let out a sigh. “Why don’t you get around to what it is before I start saying no?”
“Would you babysit?”
“You mean for James?”
“No, Hannah’s other five-year-old. Yeah, I mean James.”
“Do I have to go there?”
“No, she can bring him over here.”
Nick smiled. “Okay.”
Michael’s eyebrows went up. “Really? I was worried you’d have plans. Everyone else does.”
It would probably be good to let Quinn have a night off from his presence. At least she wouldn’t have a reason to bail on Adam again. “Nah. I have a big physics exam on Friday. I can study after he goes to bed.” His insides relaxed. “What’s everyone else doing?”
“Gabriel and Layne are watching Simon’s basketball game, then going to a movie; Chris said he and Becca are doing something , which sounds suspiciously like taking advantage of the fact that her mom won’t be home; and Hunter said he and his mom were going to catch a late dinner to talk things out.”
“No landscaping jobs?” said Nick.
“No jobs. I was actually planning to watch James so she could go out with her folks. We could take him with us, but I thought maybe I could get one of you to watch him . . .”
The air was practically trembling with anxiety. “You’re nervous,” said Nick.
“I’ve met her dad, but it wasn’t on the best terms.”
Meaning, the night Gabriel had been arrested for arson. Hannah’s father was the county fire marshal.
“They asked you, right? I think that’s a good sign.”
“Maybe.”
“You don’t sound happy.”
“I’ve never done the parent thing.”
“Pretend they’re new clients.”
Michael looked at him. “Yeah, okay.”
“No. Seriously. That’s what I do.” Nick never had any idea how to treat his girlfriends’ parents. He always worried they’d see right through him, and it wasn’t like he wanted to pretend to stare at his date’s boobs right in front of Mom and Dad, just to prove a point. He knew how to deal with teachers, and how to deal with landscaping customers. He treated parents the same way. They always liked him. Then again, maybe they could sense he wasn’t a threat to anyone’s virginity.
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