The Cathedral of Cliffdale

by Melissa Delport

  Chapter 30

  The morning after Quinn’s return, Annie arrived. With everything that had happened Quinn had completely forgotten that it was cleaning day, and her arrival put paid to Quinn’s idea of spending the morning working in her secret room. She was too restless to sit idly by while Annie scrubbed and cleaned, so she went for a run to clear her head and then took a slow drive to the store. Neither of these activities served their purpose of taking her mind off the previous evening’s events. Quinn could scarcely believe she had let Drake walk out of her house now that he knew her secret. A vampire, a sworn mortal enemy of Summerfeld knowing her identity was incomprehensible. He could bring an army down on her at any moment, and worse, he could find her crystal. Perhaps she should move it somewhere safe – somewhere far from the house in Brookfield. Somewhere that no-one but her successor would ever think to look.

  And yet, Drake had let her live too. He had had the opportunity to kill her, had been in her bedroom while she slept and he had not acted. She clung to that fact as proof she would be safe.

  By the time she returned, Annie had left and the small house was spotless. Quinn dropped her keys on the small shelf beside the front door and carried her parcels through to the kitchen. It took only a few minutes to unpack, then she headed for the secret room, settling down at her desk. She withdrew Avery’s letter from the drawer.

  You will find it in the heart of my own.

  But what did it mean? She had always thought that it had something to do with Tristan. Think, Quinn, think! Deciding to reverse the roles, Quinn tried to determine what she would do with her own crystal if she suspected trouble. I would give it to Avery, the thought came quickly.

  “Oh!” Quinn breathed. Maybe she had been going about this all wrong. She and Avery had been twins – they had been closer than any two people could be. Quinn had always thought of herself and Avery as being two parts of the same whole – was it possible that Avery had thought the same. What if she had loved Quinn more than she had loved Tristan? And if she had – she would have hidden the crystal somewhere she knew that only Quinn could find it, if her successor didn’t.

  Energised by this new idea, Quinn scrambled to her feet, crossing the room and pulling an album from a pile in the corner. She flipped past the pages of Avery and herself as children, only stopping when she reached page 32. She traced the lines of a photograph taken at their first and only home together. They had only lived there for a few short months, but in those months, everything had been perfect. They had had high hopes and dreams and an uncertain future that thrilled and excited them. They had never been happier than when they had been released from Summerfeld on their 21st birthdays, ready to start their own lives.

  Quinn stared at the small cottage behind them in the photograph. They had found it through the local paper – an elderly couple had converted an unused garage into a small flatlet and rented it out for additional income without the faintest clue as to what market prices were. Quinn and Avery had gotten it for a steal. Could Avery have hidden the crystal there? Without any other leads Quinn figured there was only one way to find out.

  Idly she flipped through the album, each image evoking memories of when the pictures had been captured. Avery and Quinn had not had long together in the human world before their Guardian tattoos had appeared. Two Guardians had been trapped by a coven of vampires and they had been killed. Twenty-four hours later, Quinn and Avery had both woken in the middle of the night crying out in pain as their wrists burned with the magical branding. Quinn could scarcely believe their bad luck, but dutifully the sisters had reported to Cliffdale to be inducted into the Guardianship. At some point during the course of her training, her attitude had shifted, and a fierce allegiance to the inhabitants of Summerfeld had consumed her. Quinn was a damn fine Guardian – one of the best – and she had dedicated her life to protecting the creatures she loved. Until Avery’s death she had never once faltered in her path.

  Sighing, she set the album back on the pile and got wearily to her feet. The cottage was almost a week’s drive from here; she had better start packing. Walking past the living-room on her way to the stairs, a shadow fell across the partially-drawn curtain and Quinn tensed. Moving towards the window, she peered out of it, but could not see anyone. There was no need to draw her stake in the middle of the day – whoever was outside of her house was no vampire – but she still felt a trickle of apprehension down her spine. On high alert for danger, she made her way to the front door and peered through the peephole. The figures she saw standing on the other side of her door shocked and terrified her.

  “Tristan, Rafe!” she quickly opened the door and ushered them inside. “What are you both doing here? And what are you doing out of Summerfeld?” she turned on the werewolf. “You know it’s not safe for you to be out of the City’s protective wards? Tell me you didn’t bring him out,” she added, whirling on Tristan. The inhabitants of Summerfeld could not leave the City without a Guardian to open the Gateway, and, since the City’s creation, no ward had ever left its enchanted protection.

  “Isaiah,” Rafe reassured her. “He got me out and then Tristan brought me here. Isaiah said if I had to leave it was better that I remain with a Guardian.” Isaiah had not mentioned that it was actually’s Freya’s idea to send Rafe to Quinn, in the hope that by keeping him safe she would be inclined to remember her loyalty to Summerfeld.

  “I can’t protect you out here,” Quinn berated, “not on my own!” The fact that she still had to find Avery’s crystal and Rafe would hinder her progress was nothing compared to her fear that something might happen to him.

  “Isaiah sent me to help,” Tristan explained.

  “What? No way... you can’t stay here!”

  “Believe me, Quinn, I tried to talk them out of it. There was no other solution.”

  Tristan had known full well that Quinn would not agree with the plan that Isaiah and Daniel had proposed, but it was not for him to question it. Even so, he had asked that they allow him to take care of Rafe alone, but his request had been denied. Quinn did not doubt Tristan’s sincerity but she felt angry anyway. The Guardians knew that she could not bring herself to turn Rafe away, not when it meant leaving him at the mercy of the vampires who hunted his kind. Isaiah and Daniel were using this as yet another opportunity to draw her back to her duty.

  “I cannot go back to Summerfeld.” Rafe’s resigned acceptance was soul-destroying. “As long as I am there it will only fuel Caleb’s anger, and sooner or later someone is going to get hurt.”

  “What about Channon?” Quinn asked.

  “Channon is where she should be.” His tone indicated that he did not want to discuss it and Tristan shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Despite the seriousness of the conversation, he couldn’t help but cast a furtive glance around Quinn’s neat home, the place where she now spent her time. The absence of personal belongings tugged at his heart in a way that made him feel both pity and the burden of responsibility.

  “Channon will not stay in Summerfeld without you,” Quinn pointed out, casting a quizzical glance at Tristan. His interest in his surroundings had not escaped her.

  “She cannot leave without a Guardian’s help.” The note of finality in Rafe’s voice was impossible to miss. The truth was that, without a Guardian to take her through the gateway, Channon was trapped within the City’s magical boundaries, although if Quinn knew Channon it wasn’t going to be quite as simple as that.

  “If you think that Channon will...”

  “This is not Channon’s decision!” Rafe roared, losing his fragile grip over his emotions. “She has forgotten her place. Pack law dictates that the new Alpha chooses his mate. Caleb has chosen Channon. She belongs to him now.”

  “She doesn’t belong to anyone!” Quinn protested vehemently, “She’s a grown woman, not a possession.”

  “Quinn,” Tristan rebuked gently as Rafe squared his shoulders to retort. “We are simply the protectors; we have no right to interfe
re with pack law.” It was not his words that silenced Quinn, but the defeated look on Rafe’s face. He was suffering, far more than he was prepared to let on and Tristan was right. Quinn might not understand the laws that govern the inhabitants of the City, but it was not her place to question them.

  “I’m sorry,” she conceded, meeting Rafe’s gaze and he nodded, resigned. “Of course you are welcome to stay here, at least until we can find somewhere more suitable.” Some place that doesn’t involve two vampires living just up the street, Quinn thought wildly.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’ll find the spare room upstairs, please make yourself at home.” Without a word, he climbed the stairs, with the lithe agility that characterised the wolves, leaving Tristan and Quinn facing off in the centre of the living-room.

  “Where should I...” Tristan began, but Quinn cut him off.

  “You can’t stay here.”

  “Quinn,” he paused, sounding weary, “I don’t think we have a choice. Besides, I can be of use to you. You want to find Avery’s crystal, right?”

  “You know I do,” Quinn sneered.

  “Well, it’s not like you can do that and keep an eye on Rafe at the same time. I can help.” He was right, again, of course. Finding Avery’s crystal would hardly be an easy feat, yet leaving Rafe unattended was incomprehensible. Quinn’s safe haven was rapidly becoming an extension of Summerfeld – teeming with Guardians, and now a member of the City. Desperately, she tried, and failed to come up with a better solution.

  “Fine,” she snapped, after a pregnant pause. “You can share the spare room with Rafe. There are twin beds,” she added spitefully, making reference to the children he seemed to have forgotten.

  Chapter 31

  That night Quinn left the house on the pretext of visiting with Todd and Sarah. Mindful that Tristan was watching through the partial opening in the curtains in the hall, she knocked on Sarah’s door and stepped inside the minute it opened.

  “We didn’t have plans for tonight, did we?” Sarah asked vaguely, her blonde hair piled on the very top of her head in a tangled mess.

  “We didn’t,” Quinn apologised, grinning at her friend. “But I have some people staying over and I wanted an excuse to get out of the house.”

  “I would be the excuse, then?” Sarah smiled back.

  “You would indeed! Mind if I slip out the back door?”

  “Not at all,” Sarah followed her through the house. As she passed through the kitchen, Quinn noticed the stack of papers on the table.

  “Reports?” she asked sympathetically.

  “Yeah,” Sarah groaned. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to put enough information into a few short lines to appease parents' desperate need for detail? What they really want is a play-by-play of every single day of their little darling’s semester.”

  “I can imagine,” Quinn agreed, thinking of Ava and Jack, and how she would be exactly the same when they went to kindergarten. “Well, good luck,” she added, as she reached for the back door handle.

  “Hey, who’s staying with you?” Sarah asked, as an icy breeze blew through the kitchen, setting the papers fluttering. Sarah quickly slapped her palm down on top, holding them in place.

  “Just an old friend and his associate,” Quinn replied lightly.

  “How long are they staying?”

  “I’m not sure. A few weeks maybe.”

  “Well in that case invite them around for games night.” Quinn had almost forgotten that tomorrow night was their weekly game evening.

  “I can’t make it this week, or next,” she apologised, wondering if this situation could get any more complicated than it already was. “But I promise we’ll definitely make it one evening before they leave. See you later,” she called softly as she pulled the door closed behind her.

  Quinn couldn’t bring herself to approach Drake’s house, not while there was a very likely possibility that Genevieve was inside. She had no doubt that, despite what Drake might believe, Genevieve would kill her at the very first opportunity that presented itself. Quinn blew into her hands, trying to warm them. The night was colder than any she had experienced since arriving in Brookfield.

  “What the hell am I doing?” she murmured, pondering the lunacy in standing across the street from a house inhabited by two vampires.

  “I was just going to ask you that exact question,” a low voice murmured beside her and Quinn leapt away before she had fully registered Drake’s voice.

  “How did you know...?”

  “I followed you,” he replied swiftly, before she had even finished her question. Shaking his head disparagingly, he continued without compunction. “Apparently you were looking for me, so I hardly see the problem.” Again, Quinn felt the unease that he was so good at masking his true nature, that she had been unable to sense him tailing her, but it would do no good to bring it up, and she hardly expected Drake to apologise.

  “We have a problem,” she began, but he was only half-paying attention. Cocking his head to the left, in the direction of the house, he suddenly held up a hand to halt her.

  “Not here,” he cautioned, and, without warning, he bent at the knee, sweeping her up. Quinn didn’t have even a second to protest, when he moved, streaking away into the night, so fast that the wind whipped the half-spoken words from her mouth.

  “Phil’s?” she asked, when he lowered her gently to her feet mere seconds later, surprised by his choice of venue.

  “It’s rowdy,” he offered, by way of explanation. “We won’t be overheard.”

  They made their way to one of the tables at the far end of the small pub, Drake waving over at Phil as they did, signalling his order. Phil gave him the thumbs-up, and almost immediately as they sat down, two drinks appeared on the table before them.

  “Anything to eat?” the waitress asked, smiling politely.

  “No, thank you,” Drake replied, not bothering to ask Quinn if she wanted anything. Quinn didn’t mind – it wasn’t as if she and Drake were friends so the normal rules of etiquette didn’t apply, and besides, she wasn’t hungry. Her stomach was tied up in knots at the thought of exposing Rafe to a vampire, even if this particular vampire was quite unlike any other she had ever encountered. The fact remained that vampires were sworn enemies of the inhabitants of Summerfeld, and Rafe was one of those inhabitants.

  “Well?” Drake opened his arms, feigning great expectation. Quinn steeled herself to tell him about Rafe, but first, there was another favour she needed to ask of him.

  “You said that you would help me find my niece and nephew...” she began, and he nodded in agreement. “Before you do that, I want you to help me find the vampire who murdered their mother.”

  “Your sister was killed by a vampire? How do you know?”

  “I know,” Quinn stated bluntly. Avery’s body had been a ravaged, bloody mess. The thought alone made Quinn want to stake Drake right here in the dimly-lit tavern.

  “Ah,” Drake leaned back, a knowing glint in his eye. “You seek revenge.” Lacing his long fingers together, a cold, hard look came over him. “You want me to turn over the name of one of my own people?” he sounded furious, and Quinn could hardly blame him.

  “Yes.”

  “And what makes you think I could track down a vampire who murdered some insignificant girl? It’s hardly as if we keep track.” Quinn flinched at the callous, unfeeling way he spoke of his victims.

  “My sister wasn’t some insignificant girl,” she bit out through clenched teeth, her cheeks flushing with ill-concealed anger.

  “Well, of course not - not to you. Forgive me, I did not mean to make light of your loss. I only mean that among the many faceless, nameless victims we prey upon, it is unlikely that your sister would be remembered.”

  “She would be,” Quinn assured him, the anger settling to a dull fury in the pit of her stomach. Raising her head defiantly she spoke with ill-concealed pride, “My sister was a Guardian.”

  At these words Drake
sat back as though she had struck him and Quinn felt a sense of sadistic pleasure. She was not surprised by his reaction. The killing of a Guardian was the ultimate feat for a vampire and would be exploited voraciously. In one thousand years, only a handful of Guardians had been discovered and destroyed by the vampire community. It would not be difficult for Drake to discover the details of Avery’s murderer. Quinn filled the silence by ordering another round of drinks. Drake drained his in one slug and set the empty glass down on the table between them, his green eyes boring into her own. Quinn could feel the tension building between them, but she did not speak, waiting for him to reach his decision.

  Drake had many thoughts running through his head as he stared at Quinn, but first and foremost was the fact that he had never heard of her sister’s death. This was inconceivable – the death of a Guardian would usually spread through the vampire community like wildfire. Unless, finally, the elders had learned from their mistakes and were keeping all information relating to the Quest under wraps. Drake had made it very clear that he was no longer interested in finding the City, but the fact that they had withheld information from him infuriated him. He was also well aware that Genevieve was fiercely loyal to the cause which meant that she would have been privy to this information. And she had kept it from him. Drake’s anger at her disobedience and her betrayal made his fangs extend slightly, and a low growl emanated from within his chest.

  Quinn’s eyes were drawn to the sharp points of his fangs. His hand looked as though it had turned to stone around his glass. He was gripping it so tightly she was surprised it hadn’t shattered.

  “Drake?” she prompted. He was staring right at her, but she doubted he could see her, or even hear her, which was why his next words surprised her.

  “Fine. I will find out what I can.”

  “Thank you,” she sighed. She hadn’t realised she had been holding her breath. Quinn didn’t know why this had only occurred to her now, but meeting Drake and developing an ‘understanding’ with him had given her access to information that she had never imagined possible. For the first time there was the possibility that she would find Avery’s killer. And Drake was absolutely right about one thing, she did want revenge.