Quintus (Immortals of New Orleans, Book 9)

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Quintus (Immortals of New Orleans, Book 9) Page 5

by Kym Grosso


  “Ah ha! And she does have a place, doesn’t she, brother?”

  “That’s not your concern at the moment. No, what you will be concerned with is bringing her a meal.”

  “So you’re avoiding the same witch you’re planning to bring to New York? Brilliant plan.”

  Quintus sighed, his eyes going to Viktor’s. “I promised to help her. She’s in danger.”

  “From what?”

  “More witches. It’s complicated.” Quintus grew irritated he hadn’t pressed her for more answers.

  “It always is. Hey, I’m not even going to ask. Not now anyway.” Viktor’s eyes went to the living room. “You want me to take this upstairs?”

  The thought of Viktor alone with Gabriella in his bedroom shot a spear of jealousy through him, and he grit his teeth. “Maybe it’s better if she eats in the kitchen. Call up to her.”

  Quintus rubbed the back of his hand across his lips and gave a final warning before heading toward his office. “Don’t touch her.”

  “No worries. How ‘bout you do me a favor? Eat something. You get mean when you’re hangry.”

  As Quintus entered his office, his stomach turned at the sight of the naked woman who lay waiting for him on the sofa. She smiled at him, and he forced the corners of his mouth upward. He’d never gone to feed while thinking of another woman, yet as he drew closer his mind flooded with thoughts of Gabriella.

  “Put your clothes on,” he commented, aware extras were included with a feeding. His bite, a natural aphrodisiac, elicited arousal, orgasm, ensuring the donor’s pleasure.

  She abruptly sat upward. “Are you not pleased with my body? I can call another donor for you.”

  “You’re fine.” Quintus registered the flash of hurt in her eyes and quickly recovered. “It’s not you. You’re lovely. I’m short on time. I need to make this quick.”

  Quintus sat back into the sofa and laid the back of his head onto the crushed velvet. He gave a sigh as she fumbled to pick up her dress. He closed his eyes, picturing his lovely witch, recalling the succulent taste of her rich blood. Quintus dropped his fangs, the bitter hunger seizing his chest. His eyes flashed open, trained on the donor’s neck.

  “Leave it,” he ordered, and she promptly dropped the garment. “Stay right there.”

  She slowly reclined back onto the sofa, her knees spread open, exposing her pussy. The sight of her laid out didn’t as much as stir a twitch of blood to his dick, but her pulse fueled his hunger. He reached for her, bringing his lips to her neck. “Just relax.”

  As his fangs sliced into her skin, he attempted to ignore the sound of her moaning in ecstasy. He gorged on the tasteless fluid, his body regenerating itself with the healing essence. Quintus lapped at the wounds, racing to finish. Her hand wrapped around his wrist, bringing his fingers to her fleshy breast. The scent of her arousal filled the room and as his eyes opened, she writhed in orgasm beneath him.

  The high-pitched sound of her cries for more were drowned out as Quintus sensed his witch. His eyes flashed to meet Gabriella’s. Her jealousy flared over him like fire, and quickly shut off, as if she commanded her emotions with a spigot.

  “I need to feed,” he explained, his voice calm as he concealed his rage. Where the hell is Viktor? How did she get into his office without him hearing?

  “I…I…we were just…” Gabriella stared at the woman who lay beneath him. With her legs spread wide open, the donor fingered herself, still reeling from her climax. “I should have never been with you. I’ve got to get out of here.”

  Quintus stood, and strode toward her. His gaze painted over her body, noting she’d dressed in his clothing. Her figure swam in a button-down shirt, a pair of boxer briefs peeking through the bottom. “This is not how it appears.”

  “No, I think it is. I don’t know what I was thinking…” Gabriella shook her head, and stared at the donor. “Whatever. You’re a vampire. I should have known you were like all the rest. Go ahead, fuck her. I’ll find someone else to save me. I need an ancient one. It doesn’t have to be you. I’ll ask Viktor.”

  Jealousy tore through him at the mention of his brother. He materialized to her, coming within inches of her skin. He dropped his fangs and hissed. She bravely faced him, the pounding beat of her heart echoing in his ears.

  “I told you I’d help you. Not Viktor. This.” His eyes went to the donor who struggled to pull her dress over her head. “She’s nothing but food. I am vampire. I cannot change what I am.”

  “You could have…No. Forget it. I’ve never let a vampire bite me. Never will.” Gabriella went to turn but he flashed behind her, blocking her from leaving.

  “What’s happening here is nothing,” he said, his voice raised.

  “Are you for real? Um, yeah. I’m pretty sure she just came all over your couch. And you know what? It doesn’t matter. Whatever we just did upstairs…” Her cheeks turned red and she shook her head. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. You still want to help me? Fine, but don’t ever touch me again.”

  “You do not wear jealousy well, bella.”

  “Stop calling me that. My name is Gabriella. And if you had wanted to eat…ah Goddess, it really doesn’t matter. I’m the one who saved you, so fine, you think you owe me? Then just help me. I just can’t. I just thought that you…and me…I told you things…”

  “Things are not always how they appear. You will understand this one day.”

  “Viktor was right about something. I need to eat. I’ll take my food upstairs. And then I’m getting out of here. You can help or not. I don’t care.”

  Quintus didn’t stop her from leaving his office. As she brushed by him and her arm grazed his, guilt weighed heavily upon him. She deliberately kept her emotions open to him. The pain emanated from her, pulsing through him like poison.

  He blew out a breath, and tore off his t-shirt, desperate to eradicate the scent of the donor from his nostrils. “Viktor!”

  His brother immediately materialized in front of him. “What’s up?”

  “What the fuck? I told you to feed Gabby. And she was just in here.”

  “My bad. I needed to flash for a sec. Ya know I got my own shit. But I did feed her. As soon as you left, she came down to the kitchen.”

  “What the fuck could be more important than my witch?” he growled, angry with both himself and Viktor.

  “There’s someone I know. She’s uh…she’s in trouble. I’m helping her with something. And before you ask, she’s got nothin’ to do with New Orleans. Or your witch. I was only gone for a few minutes. Gabby was fine. It’s not like I’ve got to watch her put the spoon in her mouth.”

  “Gabriella.”

  “Gabby,” he challenged with a stare, “is well guarded in here. This place is like a fucking prison.”

  “She’s vulnerable and in danger. She’s my responsibility.”

  “She’s a witch. She’s trouble.”

  “She’s mine.” As the words left his lips, Quintus sucked a deep breath at the realization of his connection to her.

  “Possessive, brother. You don’t normally become this way with women.”

  “It’s her blood. I told you of its power.”

  “If you say so. But you know this could be something else.” A corner of his lips raised in a sly smile.

  “Don’t say it. Because it’s not so. Her blood incites this attraction. I owe her my life. That is all. I need to make a few calls and then…” Quintus stilled, listening for movement. The deafening silence throughout the house confirmed his fear. “Do you feel it?”

  “Your wards…how would she have…” A noise sounded from above and they both looked toward the ceiling.

  “My bedroom. She must have picked up some of the power in its wards.”

  “Perhaps a spell to hide her heartbeat.”

  “No. She’s gone.” Quintus clenched his fists, enraged she’d escaped. His sweet little witch was clever but he’d track her within minutes. Her punishment would be swift and sweet, and in
the dark recesses of his mind, he reveled in the chase.

  Chapter Four

  “I’m so stupid. So fucking stupid.” Gabriella’s thoughts raced as she tore down the sidewalk.

  Escaping his home had been a serendipitous surprise. She’d always known of the mystical power that thrived within her blood. She’d toyed with the idea for months, suspecting if her blood could heal, it, too, could destroy. Using her fingernail to prick her wrist, she’d drawn blood and let it drip onto her hands. With her palms on the French doors, she’d released her energy, ripe with jealousy and hate, inciting the destruction. Safety glass shattered into bits onto the balcony. She’d carefully navigated the tiles, and hoisted herself over the railing and down the pole to the street.

  Spotting a familiar building in the French Quarter, she took off running and attempted to orient herself. As she rounded the corner, she tripped over a broken brick in the sidewalk and tumbled to the ground. Her hands scraped the pavement, its rough texture shredding her palms. Waves of shock and pain rolled through her as she shoved to her feet. She struggled to run, smearing her bloodied palms across her shirt.

  Gabriella gasped for breath, clinging to the stitch in her side. Where am I? She ducked into an alleyway. With her back against the cold brick wall, she doubled over and heaved for breath. She lifted her gaze and spied the old apothecary. Two more blocks and she’d be at her hotel.

  Self-doubt threaded through her mind, tears filling her eyes. Finding Quintus with the blood whore had been like a knife to her gut. Even after he’d callously left her in the bedroom, she’d thought he’d been interested in her. It wasn’t rational, she knew. A man like him probably enjoyed a different woman every night, but there was just something about his erotic touch that woke her heart. Lying in his arms, his lips on hers, the embers of arousal had been stoked. With the exception of a one night stand here and there, she’d never indulged in carnal desires. On the run, she couldn’t afford to get attached to anyone.

  He’s a vampire. What were you thinking? She blew out a breath and wiped the tears from her eyes. Regret boiled in her stomach. Impulsive and fueled by jealousy, she’d escaped with no plan. Logic told her she should have stayed but seeing him with the donor pushed her over the edge. I shouldn’t have left. He’s the only one who can help me. She’d never be safe unless they worked together to destroy the coven.

  It’s going to be okay. Just keep moving, she told herself. She’d collect her meager belongings, deliver blood to Ramiel, and return to Quintus. If she was lucky, she’d escape New Orleans before the coven arrived.

  The wind whistled, and she raised her face to the dark sky. An icy raindrop stung her forehead, and she wiped it away with her hand. Thunder rumbled in the distance and she took off running towards her home.

  Gabriella stepped out of the shower and screamed as a cockroach the size of a small dog scurried across the room. She loathed this dump, but the seedy hotel studio apartment, tucked into the corner of a courtyard, had been the best she’d been able to afford. Gabriella had given up dreams of a normal life long ago. This was the reality she’d come to accept.

  She quickly dried herself with a towel and stepped into her panties. Gabriella snapped on a bra and slung a black t-shirt over her head and reached for her jeans. With a glance to the clock, she realized she’d been gone for at least twenty minutes and she suspected Quintus would come looking for her.

  Reaching for her drawstring backpack, she tugged it open. Her chest tightened in a sentimental knot as she looked to her desk. Scattered spells on shreds of cocktail napkins littered its surface. A brass locket lay curled at the base of a lamp. She brushed her fingers over its embossed surface. As she’d done a hundred times, she picked open the brass heart with her fingernail, revealing the picture of her mother and father. They sat on the sea rocks, her mother smiling as her father placed a kiss to her cheek. When she’d been ten, it had been a secret gift. No one could see it or know the truth. Mama always told her she wanted her to remember the love from which she’d been created.

  Gabriella closed it and brought it to her lips. Too afraid she’d lose the memory, she slipped it into an inside pocket and zipped it shut. Gabriella reached for her spell book and stuffed the torn papers inside it. Old and new spells, they all served a purpose. One to levitate objects. One to bring love to a friend. One to change the color of her hair. Although she didn’t know how to use each one, she’d collected them like memories, with the possibility that someday she’d learn to perfect her imperfect craft.

  Gabriella’s power waned as the full moon approached, her beast demanding to shift and renew her magick. After gathering one last scrap of paper, she reached for the small stuffed animal she’d been carrying around since she was five years old. The tattered kitten was the closest thing she’d ever allowed herself to have as a pet. Although the high priestess was bestowed a companion, it was forbidden for others to own or communicate with animals.

  Gabriella tossed the childhood toy into her bag along with her wallet and cell phone, and cinched it shut. She considered taking clothes but didn’t have time to start packing her things. If she had to wash her underwear in the bathroom for the next week she was prepared for what she had to do.

  Time had run out. Thunder rumbled outside, and she startled. The southern storms often grew violent, but as the familiar sound of hail pinging the roof began, she grabbed her hoodie and headed toward the door. As she flung it open, her breath caught at the sight of the dominant vampire, his dark brown eyes penetrating hers.

  “I…I had to get my stuff,” she stammered. Gabriella had suspected he’d come for her, but hadn’t anticipated the sheer anger that poured off him like the rain. Soaked, his black t-shirt clung to his body, revealing every contour of his muscular chest.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he growled, scanning the shabby interior of her room.

  “I told you…it’s just…you and that girl.” Jesus Gabby, get it together. She vacillated between fear and arousal as he reached for her wrist.

  “How the hell am I supposed to protect you if you just take off on me? You’re going to get yourself killed before I have a chance to help you.”

  “You were busy. Eating.” Her tone dripped with sarcasm and she hated herself for the jealousy that bubbled in her chest.

  “You.” Quintus tugged her toward him. Closing the gap, he stepped forward. He towered above her but kept his eyes locked on hers.

  Gabriella gasped, not out of fear but desire, her breasts brushing his chest. “I…I…” Words failed her as he leaned his head toward hers.

  “Don’t leave again. Do you understand?”

  “You can’t tell me what to do. I’m not a child.” Gabriella’s voice wavered, her mind demanding she speak. As his arm went around her waist, drawing him toward her, her heart pounded. The cold rain pelted her face, droplets clinging to her eyelashes.

  “Do. Not. Leave,” he repeated, his tone firm. With his gaze upon hers, Quintus brought his lips within inches of hers.

  “Why are you doing this? I’m nothing to you.” The warmth of his body on hers flared her arousal.

  “Si, bella. You’re under my protection. You’re mine.”

  As his lips crushed onto hers, excitement rushed through her body. She molded into his embrace, returning his searing kiss, and moaned as he pulled away, his lips still touching hers as he spoke.

  “We’ll finish this later, pet.” Quintus straightened, his head snapping toward the street. “The magick grows thick.”

  “We’ve got to go somewhere safe. They must know I’m in New Orleans by now. Ramiel…”

  “We’re going back to my house and then New York,” he told her.

  “New York? Quintus, I can’t go to…”

  Gabriella sucked a breath as they dematerialized. Her knees buckled as he settled her into his kitchen. The faint scent of smoke drifted in the air and she coughed.

  “Is something burning? I smell it. What have they done
?” The coven. They’d burn her to ash like they’d done to her parents.

  Quintus sniffed the air, his fangs dropping. “Nothing’s burning in here. It’s just a thunderstorm, bella. It’s possible it hit a tree.” He wrapped his arms around her, tugging her close.

  “They’re here,” she whispered. Dark magick swept over her like a thousand centipedes crawling on her skin. She shivered, and coughed into her sleeve.

  “Where the fuck is Viktor?”

  “I’m here, dear brother.” Viktor brushed a fleck of dust off his black tailored shirt.

  “Where have you been?” Quintus asked.

  “I keep telling you we’re having some problems in New York. The others, they look for your guidance. I need you to get back now. Shit is going down at the club.”

  “Very well. New York it is. The vampires will get what they need.” Quintus turned to Gabriella. “I’m sorry but we’ve got to go now. You’re coming with me.”

  “New York? I just told you I can’t go to New York. I think what I need is in New Orleans. I picked up some spells.” Gabriella wrenched out of his grip and shoved her hand inside her bag, fumbling for the small book. Psychics and rogue witches had given her various spells over the years; some she’d tried to no avail. A strong arm wrapped around her shoulder and panic tore through her body. “No…Quintus. I can’t go to New York… you don’t understand…”

  No. No. No. What is he doing? Gabriella screamed as she landed on the black velvet sofa. Tiny lights flickered through her blurred vision. A hand reached for her and she screamed, “Get away from me!”

  “Gabriella, you’re okay.”

  “What is wrong with your witch?” Viktor asked, annoyance in his tone.

  “She’s not all witch. I told you she’s a hybrid. Gather the others,” Quintus ordered.

  “I’m not his witch,” Gabriella spat, brushing his hand out of the way. How could he have taken them out of New Orleans? She was convinced she needed something for the spell, something that could only be found in the Big Easy. “Let me go. I have to go back.”

 

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