Guardians of Summerfeld: Full Series: Books 1-4

by Melissa Delport

  “I don’t think I can let you go,” Tristan murmured painfully. “If something were to happen to you...” he trailed off, the fierceness in his voice impossible to miss. Quinn was moved by his concern – by the fact that he was so obviously terrified for her safety.

  “Tristan,” she squeezed his arm. “I’ve been a Guardian a lot longer than you, remember? I can take care of myself.” She realised the error of her words the second they were out, but it was too late to take them back. Avery had been a Guardian a long time, too, but that hadn’t stopped her succumbing to the vampires who had murdered her. “I’ll be back soon,” Quinn promised. “Here,” she started to shrug out of his coat, but he stopped her.

  “Keep it,” he smiled sadly. “It has deep pockets, perfect for carrying stakes. Load them up and come back to me in one piece.”

  Chapter 3

  The following morning Quinn went to see Jack and Ava before setting out for Brookfield. She would be gone a while and she explained it to them as best she could, promising that she would be back soon. The children were delighted to see her, showing her their new bedroom and where the swing-set Tristan had promised to build would be going in the yard. Saying goodbye was hard, but Quinn could see light at the end of the tunnel. Jack and Ava would be happy here with Camille. It would take time, but it was a happy home and Camille so obviously adored them that it was impossible for them not to respond. When they had been with Quinn she had always feared that the Guardians might come for them, and she had never been able to relax completely. Camille, on the other hand, had nothing to worry about, save for all three children’s safety, which was exactly as it should be.

  With her bag slung over her shoulder she entered the Cathedral determined to speak with Isaiah before leaving. She had made Camille a promise that she would take Monique back to the realm of man from time to time, a promise she could not fulfil without Isaiah’s consent. True to his nature, Isaiah listened, letting her explain about her conversation with Camille and the reasoning behind it.

  “I’d like your blessing... and your help,” she finished.

  “You have it,” he replied easily. Quinn had already started to protest before his words sank in.

  “I have it?” she asked incredulously. “Just like that?”

  “Quinn, I have told you before – I think that you have a purpose – one that is greater than all of us. If you believe this is the right thing to do, then how can I disagree?”

  “But... it’s dangerous!” Quinn had half-hoped that Isaiah would disagree and refuse to let her carry out this foolishness which would let her off the hook. Instead, he was offering not only his approval, but his assistance.

  “No more dangerous than the fifteen trouble-free years Monique has spent out there,” he pointed out logically. “I ask only that you limit her visits to daylight hours, for obvious reasons.” And therein lay the key, Quinn thought. There was absolutely no possibility that they would be attacked during the day. Monique would be in no danger while the vampires were confined indoors.

  “What if we walk into a coven’s hideout?”

  Isaiah laughed at that.

  “Are you trying to get me to forbid Monique to leave?” he asked wryly. A Guardian could sense vampires – it was impossible that they would step into a lair without knowing about it.

  “No,” she shook her head. This was the truth – she still believed that Monique had a right to visit her homeland – she had just so honestly expected Isaiah to say no, that she had already tried to convince herself otherwise. “I’m just surprised.”

  “I would ask that you keep this between us,” he cautioned. “The others may not think it’s a good idea.”

  “Of course,” Quinn nodded. “Thank you.”

  She left then, setting out for Brookfield wearing Tristan’s coat over her black jeans and T-shirt. He had been right – the coat did have deep pockets and Quinn had slipped a stake into each one. Tristan’s fear had made her nervous, more so than she had ever felt before, and she hoped that it wasn’t a bad omen. She had thought it through and, as foolish as it might seem, she was determined to hide Avery’s crystal with her own. If she were to be responsible for them both they might as well stay together. She was also itching to check on her own crystal – to see whether Drake had taken advantage of her absence to break into her house, and, if so, to find out if he had discovered the hidden room. She sensed that her crystal was still in the same place, but that didn’t mean that it was exactly where she had left it. If Drake had it, it could still be in Brookfield, close enough to her initial hiding-place that she didn’t sense anything different.

  No-one followed her. The Guardians would never deign to now that she had returned to the fold. They all respected the rules – that the crystal’s location should be known to only one Guardian. It was nice not to have to worry about being followed for a change. She was back, one of them again, and she did not have to keep looking over her shoulder.

  Quinn pulled out her phone and plugged it into the car-charger as soon as she was out of the Cathedral’s range. It wasn’t long before a soft ping signalled that she had a message. Lifting the phone to her ear she dialled her voicemail.

  “Quinn,” Drake’s hypnotic recorded voice said, “we need to talk. Call me.” It was a two-day drive to Brookfield, so she dialled the number.

  “Quinn,” his voice sounded identical to the message she had just listened to. “Where are you?”

  “I’m actually heading back,” Quinn replied. “I’ll be there in a couple of days.”

  “We can talk then,” he intoned, cutting the call. Quinn stared at the handset before punching the redial button.

  “Quinn?” he sounded slightly more animated, almost concerned.

  “You know it’s rude to hang up on someone, right?” There was silence on the other end of the line. “I’m just saying,” Quinn continued, “you could at least say goodbye.”

  “Goodbye, Quinn,” he said bluntly, but Quinn could have sworn she heard his deep chuckle before the line went dead once more.

  Arriving home around mid-morning a few days later, Quinn was relieved to find that nothing looked disturbed. The secret room was untouched and her crystal sat innocently on the shelf exactly where she had left it. She placed the aquamarine beside it without looking at it. Every time she saw Avery’s crystal it reminded her painfully of her sister. Locking the room behind her she went upstairs to take a much-needed shower. With the crystal hidden there was not much else to do, but Quinn was loath to leave Brookfield so soon. Sarah would be home from work soon and Quinn still needed to talk to Drake. She could stay a few days, she thought selfishly. She would be back before the full moon to ensure that Rafe didn’t do anything stupid.

  The second she heard Sarah’s car, Quinn went across to visit her. Sarah was overjoyed to see her and the two women spent a happy afternoon catching up. Sarah, of course, wanted to know all about Quinn’s trip, and Quinn felt guilty as she fabricated stories and events that had never happened.

  “I’m going to be doing a lot of travelling,” she admitted eventually. “I won’t be around here much.”

  “Are you going to sell the house?” Sarah looked horrified at the mere thought.

  “No,” Quinn set her mug on the table. “I’m going to keep it. I’ll be back, from time to time, and it’s a good investment.”

  “Good. Then, when you get tired of travelling you can come back permanently.”

  “Deal,” Quinn quipped.

  As night fell Quinn headed over to Phil’s. She didn’t really want to go to Drake’s house and risk a run-in with Genevieve and she figured that he would track her down here.

  “Quinn!” Phil called from behind the bar. “You’re back!”

  “For now,” she grinned, and then, seeing the crowd gathering around the bar, “can I get a beer?”

  “Sure,” he nodded. Quinn took a seat at a table in the corner and a moment later the waitress set a beer down in front of her.

&n
bsp; “I’ll have a scotch,” a deep voice drawled as Drake took a seat opposite her. “Hello, Quinn. How are you this fine evening?” he asked, with exaggerated good manners.

  “I’m very well, thank you,” she replied, playing along. “How are you?” Drake smiled teasingly.

  “Never been better. How was your trip?”

  “Long,” she sighed, dropping the act and taking a swig of beer. The waitress arrived with his scotch and they fell silent until she was out of earshot. “But productive... I found my niece and nephew.”

  “Well, that’s a cause for celebration!” he raised his glass to her.

  “You wanted to speak to me?” Quinn pressed, setting her bottle back on the table.

  “Yes. I wanted to know what’s going on with you and the male Guardian.”

  “What?” His question was so unexpected that Quinn thought she had misheard him.

  “The Guardian... Tristan, I believe his name was,” Drake continued calmly. “Are you and he in some sort of relationship?”

  “What... how do you even know about Tristan?”

  “Answer the question,” he insisted, and Quinn was sure that it was so ingrained in him to do so that he was injecting a certain amount of persuasion into his words.

  “You know that doesn’t work on me,” she grumbled, her head still reeling. “And anyway, it’s none of your business.”

  “I’m just asking.”

  “Why?”

  “Call it idle curiosity.”

  “How is Genevieve doing?” Quinn smiled sweetly, turning the tables on him.

  “Genevieve is well,” he replied easily, calling her bluff. “I have no problem talking about her. Now, will you answer my question?”

  “No.”

  Drake sighed dramatically.

  “Very well. How long will you be staying in Brookfield?”

  “A few days, probably. I want to spend some time with Sarah and Todd and...” she trailed off, realising what she had been about to say.

  “And?” he arched a dark brow.

  “And nothing.”

  Quinn was stunned. She had been about to say ‘you’, although for the life of her she couldn’t understand why. Drake had been flitting around in her thoughts for days, an itch that she couldn’t scratch, but she would be lying if she said that she hadn’t looked forward to seeing him again. Not that she would admit it to him. Fortunately Drake let it go.

  “I’ve been doing some investigating. No-one that I have spoken to knows anything about your sister’s death.”

  “Well then you’re not speaking to the right people,” Quinn insisted, hope flaring in her chest. Drake was actually keeping his word – investigating Avery’s murder. Quinn might have a chance to avenge her sister.

  “We’re being overhead,” Drake said suddenly, his voice much lower than before. Quinn froze, using every ounce of her willpower not to look around. “Let’s go.” Drake stood in one swift, graceful movement and offered her his hand. Flustered, Quinn took it, his skin surprisingly warm and let him lead her out of the tavern.

  It was only when they had walked half a mile that she stopped, turning to fix him with a questioning gaze.

  “You don’t understand,” he murmured, continuing their conversation as if they had not been interrupted. “Killing a Guardian... it’s not something that would be kept a secret. Many of my people... well, let’s just say this kind of news travels fast.” Quinn pressed her lips together to keep from biting out a scathing retort. “The point is that no-one seems to know anything. That’s just not possible.”

  “What are you saying?” Quinn asked, disappointment weighing heavily upon her.

  “How sure are you that your sister was murdered by vampires?” he asked bluntly, his emerald green eyes boring into hers.

  “I’m... one hundred percent sure,” she stammered. “Why would you ask that?” He seemed to hesitate, as though not sure whether to continue.

  “I have my reasons,” he said eventually and Quinn grabbed his sleeve.

  “You have to tell me what you know. Please! She was my sister!” her voice broke at the last, and Drake shook out of her grip, placing both his hands over her shoulders.

  “I need to speak to a few more people,” he lowered his head so that their eyes were on the same level. “Trust me. As soon as I know more, I will tell you everything.”

  “But...”

  “No. No buts. Against my better judgement I am prepared to help you, but it’s on my terms; take it or leave it.” He held her gaze, not even blinking. Emotional, Quinn nodded.

  “Good.”

  “May I come in?” he asked when they reached her porch. Quinn had composed herself and she nodded, turning the key in the lock and stepping aside to allow him access. Technically, he didn’t need her permission, but she appreciated his consideration for her privacy. Drake walked through to the living-room, seeming perfectly at ease.

  “Would you like something to drink?” Quinn called as she passed him on her way to the kitchen.

  “I have some brandy in here somewhere.”

  “I’ll have a beer,” he replied, and Quinn raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him.

  “What? You think I can’t drink beer?”

  “It just doesn’t seem like your usual style,” she admitted, grabbing two beers from the refrigerator and padding back into the living-room. Taking a bottle, he smiled down at her. Under the heat of his gaze, Quinn shifted uncomfortably. Drake was an enigma, one who threatened to unravel everything she had been taught.

  “Do you know what I think?” he murmured, still towering over her.

  “What do you think?”

  “I think that I’m the ‘and’.”

  “The what?”

  “The ‘and’ at the end of your sentence. The reasons you’re staying in town a while. Sarah, and Todd, and...”

  “You’re totally not the ‘and’,” Quinn snapped haughtily.

  “Really?” he narrowed his eyes at her.

  “Really.” All she wanted to do was move away from him, but doing so would only prove to him that she was affected by his nearness.

  “You know, sometimes I think I should just kill you and save myself the aggravation,” he mused, a good-humoured twinkle in his eye.

  “Really?” Quinn retorted. “You want to pick a fight with a Guardian?”

  “No,” he smiled, “not really.”

  Slowly, deliberately, he placed his beer on the side table and then he grabbed her shoulders, lifting her into the air as if she weighed nothing and launched them both across the room, to land gently on the sofa.

  “Point taken,” Quinn grinned, amazed that he hadn’t spilt a single drop of her beer. Getting to his feet he calmly retrieved his own, before sitting back down beside her. It was surreal, Quinn thought, sitting so close to a vampire and feeling so inexplicably comfortable.

  “You know, in a different life, you and I might have been friends,” she murmured without thinking.

  “I thought we were friends.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “No, actually, I don’t.”

  “We can’t be friends, Drake,” she insisted seriously.

  “Why not?” he asked, with honest curiosity. “Because someone told you you can’t be friends with a vampire? Because I was told to kill a Guardian on sight? It seems that neither of us is good at following instructions, so why can’t we be friends?”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “It is exactly that simple. Do you like me, Quinn?”

  “I beg your pardon?” she blushed.

  “I’m going to take that as a yes, but it’s not what I meant. You don’t want to kill me, right?”

  “Only sometimes,” she grinned.

  “I’m helping you?” he continued.

  “Yes.”

  “I saved your life.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you saved mine.”

  “We’re not friends,” she insisted.

 
“We’re not enemies, either.” His voice had dropped so low that she had to strain to hear the words. He shifted closer to her, dominating most of her vision and Quinn’s heart beat faster in her chest. She froze as he lifted a long finger to her face, but he merely tugged a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

  “You beguile me, Quinn,” he breathed, his eyes dropping to her mouth. His words were so beautifully spoken that Quinn caught her breath, as his face loomed even closer, his green eyes filling her own.

  “No,” she mumbled, pushing herself away from him. She was embarrassed, and clutched for an explanation that would make sense. “It’s not my fault that I can’t accept what you’re saying,” she admitted weakly. “Aleksei started this war. He slaughtered entire species; innocent creatures.”

  In an instant, Drake’s expression turned cold.

  “Aleksei would never have harmed any other creature if they had not sided with the Fae,” he snapped. “They should have remained neutral and not taken a side.” Quinn found this reasoning grossly unfair.

  “They relied on the Fae magic. They had no choice.”

  “Do you really think Eldon would have punished them if they had done nothing?” he laughed. “Come on, Quinn! Eldon - magnificent, all-powerful, lover of every living thing! We both know the war could have been contained between my people and the Fae. And while you are holding Aleksei responsible for every God-forsaken thing that has ever gone wrong in this world, best I remind you that Eldon murdered his son.”

  “For someone who has no interest in the Quest you are remarkably well-informed of its history,” Quinn retorted. “And yes, Eldon killed Julian. But he had to. Julian was an abomination.”

  “In what way?” Drake demanded.

  “He should never have existed! Enah broke the Taboo!”

  “Yes, Enah broke the Taboo. A law created and upheld by faeries, not vampires,” he reminded her. “And yet Enah was never punished for her crimes. Instead, Julian bore the brunt of Eldon’s wrath... starting a feud that has spanned millennia. Tell me Quinn, what do you think would have happened if Eldon had simply accepted Julian and Enah’s relationship? If he had allowed them to love each other and live out their lives in peace?”