Guardians of Summerfeld: Full Series: Books 1-4

by Melissa Delport

  “He found me,” Lenora’s voice interjected, “and he drove a stake through my chest. You missed my heart, by the way,” she sneered hatefully. “I guess the Slayer isn’t as effective as you all choose to believe.” Her voice was icy and hateful, and Quinn felt a desolate sadness come over her. She didn’t need to hear anymore, the haunted look on Isaiah’s face was all the proof she needed.

  “He couldn’t help it,” she declared, and then, turning back to Isaiah, “So you locked yourself away, all these years as a penance?”

  “Am I supposed to feel sorry for him?” Lenora’s voice cut across the absolute silence that followed and Quinn got to her feet.

  “No, I don’t expect you to, but I do.” Her eyes found Drake’s. “You have no idea how powerful the Guardian charm is.” Drake recognised the message she was trying to convey and he shook his head in disgust. Turning back to Lenora, Quinn continued, “The charm is impossible to fight. And yet he did… for you.”

  “He tried to kill me,” Lenora countered and Quinn gave a harsh bark of laughter.

  “He’s the Slayer, Lenora. If he had really wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be here. Somehow he did fight it. He didn’t miss.”

  This was the absolute truth, and Quinn suspected that Isaiah was still very much in love with Lenora. No matter how many years he had regretted his actions, his instinct could not be suppressed. He should have killed them both the second he laid eyes on them, and yet, he hadn’t. She also didn’t judge Isaiah for his relationship with Lenora. How could she, considering how she felt for Drake. As the thought crossed her mind she glanced over at him and recoiled at the venomous look in his eye.

  “Drake?’ she began, but he paid her no heed. Turning on his heel, he stormed out of the clearing and plunged into the trees.

  “Drake!”

  He could hear Quinn moving through the woods behind him, but he didn’t stop. Isaiah’s story had brought back memories he had long tried to suppress with crystal clarity. How could he not have recognised him immediately as the Slayer who had torn through the village that night? And with Isaiah’s words all of Drake’s guilt came flooding back. It was not Charlotte’s fault she had become the monster she was now; that blame lay with him, for turning her, and with the Guardians who had taken her life. A black rage spread through his chest, blinding him, and he moved more quickly, running from something he could never escape.

  Quinn sprinted after him, leaping over tree trunks and scratching her arms painfully on low-hanging branches. Twice she stumbled, but she kept going. Drake finally stopped, between two enormous gnarled trees, and Quinn approached him cautiously.

  “What are you doing?’ she gasped, trying to catch her breath.

  “I’ve seen him before,” he replied, an underlying tremor in his voice. “The night Charlotte was killed, Isaiah was there.”

  “Okay,” she didn’t really understand the relevance.

  “I think you’re right in saying that if he wanted Lenora dead, she would be dead. I’ve seen him in action and he wouldn’t make a mistake.” He was speaking almost to himself, and Quinn sensed that he was trying to make sense of something, but she couldn’t quite grasp what it was.

  “What are you saying?” she asked helplessly.

  “You said before that a relationship between a vampire and a Guardian is impossible. Isn’t he proof that that’s not true?” There was a note of desperation in his voice and Quinn realised what he was trying to say. Drake was trying to justify their feelings for each other.

  “No,” it was barely more than a whisper. “It’s exactly the opposite. Isaiah hurt Lenora, despite loving her. Their story is proof that I’m right – that we can never be anything more than what we are right now.”

  “How can you say that?”

  “Because it’s true.”

  “Quinn,” he moved suddenly, seizing her by the shoulders. “I need you to tell me how you feel. How you really feel,” he pleaded.

  “Why?” Tears welled in her eyes.

  “Because I hate him, for what happened to Charlotte. He didn’t kill her, but if he hadn’t been there she wouldn’t have been hurt, defending me, and because I don’t know if I can bring myself to hurt her… again.” His intensity frightened Quinn, but she couldn’t move as he continued frantically. “Because I am a vampire, and you are a Guardian, and because, God help me, I need you to give me a reason to protect you.”

  Quinn closed her eyes, her tears finally escaping to trickle slowly down her cheeks.

  “I can’t.”

  She heard the sharp intake of breath and he released her so suddenly that she stumbled, her tears blurring her vision.

  “We’re done.” His cold, clinical detachment burnt her and his words were absolutely final.

  “Please don’t do this,” she begged, wishing things could go back to the way they were, but knowing that was impossible.

  “I can’t help you.”

  “I need you.”

  “You need to prepare your people. An army is heading this way. Prepare to defend the City.”

  “Drake. Please,” she began, but her words fell insignificantly to the ground, unheard. Drake was gone.

  Quinn found Isaiah alone in the clearing.

  “He came for her,” he explained, and then, “I guess we’re on our own?” Quinn nodded, not trusting herself to speak. “You did the best you could.”

  “Did I?” She swallowed down the painful lump in her throat. Brushing away fresh tears, she tried to pull herself together. “I’m sorry about Lenora.”

  “Why? She’s alive… and for that I will be forever grateful.”

  “Isaiah, why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I was ashamed. Perhaps I believed if I kept it hidden long enough the curse would fade away.”

  “But it didn’t?”

  “No. It never will. But it can be controlled.”

  “How?” He laughed then, a bitter, mournful sound that echoed through the trees around him. “Love,” he replied, “as clichéd as it may sound, love is the key.”

  “We should get you back.” Quinn couldn’t resist searching the trees, desperately hoping Drake would reappear and give her a chance to explain herself.

  “They’re gone,” Isaiah murmured apologetically. “I can’t sense them anymore.”

  As they walked back to the car, he spoke again.

  “Quinn,” his soft voice sounded amplified in the silent night. “I know it’s none of my business, but I cannot help feeling that your relationship with Drake is more complicated than you are prepared to let on.”

  “We’re just friends. We were, anyway.”

  “Were?”

  She sighed deeply. “He wanted… more. I told him tonight that that isn’t a possibility.”

  “May I ask why?”

  Quinn gaped at him. “You of all people should know. A Guardian-vampire relationship is… is…”

  “Unconventional?” he teased.

  “It’s not funny,” she reproached.

  “It’s not,” he agreed. “You know, the Sacred Book tells us that we are protectors of the City… that we defend the wards against those who would harm them.”

  “The vampires,” she nodded, “I know. Which is exactly why I told Drake no.”

  “You’re wrong,” Isaiah murmured. “Over time we have reduced the Book to its simplest form to make it easier to interpret, but it specifically says ‘those who would harm them’. Granted, it is the vampires who generally seek to destroy the wards, and the City was created with them in mind, but I do not believe that every vampire is a threat. Not every vampire would harm them.”

  “What exactly are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that nowhere in Eldon’s scripture does he mention not loving a vampire.”

  She could understand his reasoning and the motivation behind it. No doubt he had told himself the same thing when he first met Lenora, but Quinn couldn’t agree with him.

  “Enah loving Julian is exactly what star
ted this war in the first place. I’m pretty sure Eldon wouldn’t have wanted his chosen champions to follow in her footsteps.”

  “Everything is open to interpretation. You can take it to mean what you wish; I am simply pointing out that if the reason you rejected Drake tonight was because you believed it to be against the rules, you should know that there is no precise rule dictating that you should stay away from him.”

  Quinn closed her eyes.

  “Is that how you justified loving Lenora? Because if you honestly didn’t think there was anything wrong with it, why would you keep it a secret?”

  “Because, like you, I was scared of what the others would think. I feared I was betraying my own people; but in the end I had to follow my heart.”

  “And look what happened!” Quinn cried. “You use Lenora as an example of why I should be with Drake, when I see it only as further proof why I can’t be.”

  “It is your decision,” Isaiah said. “But I would be remiss in my duties as your mentor, and your friend, if I didn’t support whatever choice you make.”

  As much as she appreciated his words, Quinn didn’t want to discuss it any more and they drove back to Cliffdale in silence.

  Chapter 39

  Sloane eased himself off Charlotte’s warm body, his mouth an ugly grimace.

  “Always a pleasure, my love,” he drawled, pulling up his pants. Charlotte gazed up at him, hiding her true feelings beneath a heavy-lidded look.

  “We have assembled enough men to conquer the City,” Sloane continued, as Charlotte retrieved her clothes from the floor beside the bed. Sloane, as a senior councilman, had taken up residence in one of the grandest homes in town and the satin sheets were of the finest quality.

  “Where are the rest of the council?”

  “They await our summons.” Sloane and Charlotte had been granted the honour of leading the attack on Summerfeld, but Charlotte knew better than to believe that. The balance of the council didn’t want to get their hands dirty, or worse, face the Guardians in a fight.

  “They are cowards,” she spat, straightening her hair in the full-length mirror. She could see the rumpled bedsheets in the reflection behind her and was thankful that the house Sloane had chosen was far enough from her own that neither Drake nor Tane would find her here. Sloane came to stand beside her, his stubby fingers caressing the hollow of her neck.

  “That, my love, is treason.”

  “I’m quite sure that contriving to overthrow an absent King is treason,” she reminded him, and his hand tightened around her throat.

  “Be careful, Charlotte,” his black eyes glittered menacingly in the mirror, holding her own. “There are vampires crawling all over this town. You never know who might be listening.”

  “Well, if they are listening, I trust they will be suitably impressed with your performance,” she praised.

  Slipping from the house she darted back towards her own accommodation letting the shadows mask her from sight. Sloane was a necessary evil, one who would come in handy later, but for now she needed to focus on the war that was coming. Unlike the council, Charlotte didn’t shy away from battle. Just as with sex, her appetite couldn’t be sated. She craved the bloodlust that consumed her in the heat of the fight. The Guardians wouldn’t know what hit them.

  “Where have you been?’ Charlotte demanded when Drake came through the door. She was draped across a one-seater sofa, with the owner of the house they had taken possession of sitting across from her, apparently asleep. Drake noticed the dried blood on his collar. Charlotte was seething – understandably, since Drake had escaped from right under her nose. He had been here when she had left to visit Sloane, on the pretext of discussing the invasion, but upon her return, Drake had been gone.

  “I went to get you a gift,” he murmured, crossing the room to stand before her. “Which hand?” he added, his hands balled into fists behind his back.

  “Both,” she demanded petulantly.

  “You read my mind,” he grinned, baring his fangs as he dropped the two crystals into her outstretched hands.

  Charlotte’s eyes opened in wonder as she gazed upon the two stones. The larger crystal was amber in colour and filled her entire palm. The smaller aquamarine was much prettier and circular in shape, but, despite it being exquisite, Drake preferred the amber, for reasons he couldn’t explain.

  “Where did you…?” Charlotte gasped, feeling the power pulsating through the Guardian crystals.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Drake cut her off, “they’re yours now.”

  It hadn’t taken him long to find the hidden room in Quinn’s house in Brookfield. He had kept the crystals hidden since their arrival in New Haven and had left them behind when he went to see Quinn, knowing she would sense them if he took them near her. Now that Quinn had made her decision, Drake had had to make one of his own. He couldn’t play both sides, and fighting Charlotte’s hold over him was pointless. He had loved her once, but his obsession with her was fast re-igniting, and what was the point in denying it if Quinn didn’t want him. Drake was a proud man, and he would not spend his life trailing in the shadow of a woman who refused to acknowledge her own feelings, when there was one who was more than willing to show him how she felt sitting right in front of him.

  Charlotte finally tore her gaze from the treasures she held to look up at Drake. An intense look passed between them and Charlotte’s full mouth curved up in a predatory smile. Neither heard the front door open.

  “I assume this means that we only have to find ten more?” Tane drawled, coming to peer over Drake’s shoulder.

  “Nine, actually,” Charlotte’s hands closed over the stones, blocking them from view, “we have a Guardian on our side, remember.” She couldn’t believe that Drake had somehow managed to secure not one, but two of the Guardians’ crystals. This proved his loyalty to her, as well as making her realise that he was not as weak as she had believed. He was worthy of her affection. They had been skirting around one another for days, mindful of Tane’s jealousy, but Charlotte would not deny him any longer. She had the might of the council behind her and Drake had just proven that he was far more valuable than the werewolf could ever be.

  “Drake,” her voice was low and husky as she unfurled herself from the sofa and kissed his open mouth. “I owe you my gratitude. Let me show you just how grateful I am.”

  “What the hell are you doing?” Tane snarled. He and Charlotte were hardly monogamous, but he despised the vampire, and for her to come on to him in front of Tane was the ultimate insult.

  “Oh,” Charlotte turned to him. “I almost forgot you were still here. Sadly, I no longer require your services… I have no further use for you.” She nodded meaningfully at Drake.

  Tane did not even have time to defend himself. Drake struck with the speed of a cobra, sinking his fangs into Tane’s exposed throat and tearing through the flesh as though it were paper. When it was over he dropped the lifeless body to the ground. The werewolf’s blood intoxicated him, the rush of its power coursing through his veins, heightening his senses, and making him lust for more. Drake growled, a deep, guttural sounded that reverberated in his chest.

  “I underestimated you,” Charlotte purred, unmoved by the grotesque scene before her. Caleb would be dealt with in a similar fashion when they finally destroyed the City. Charlotte had never intended to keep the werewolves safe, they were simply a means to an end, and now that all the pieces had fallen into place there was no reason to keep them alive. Instead, she focused on Drake; dark, brooding and dangerous.

  Leaning forward, she trailed her tongue along the curve of his collarbone, breathing in the smell of him, her senses igniting. When she reached the hollow of his neck, she slowly extended her fangs and plunged them into his flesh, sucking greedily. Drake knocked her aside, clapping a hand to the puncture wounds, his eyes reflecting his shock.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he snarled. Vampires didn’t feed off one another – it was a vile act of depravity. Charlotte
smiled, unrepentant. She did not care for etiquette, and she was bound by no laws. She did as she pleased, without conscience.

  “Let me show you how good you taste.” She arched up toward him and kissed him deeply, her tongue exploring his mouth and sharing the lingering sweetness of his own blood. Drake slowly relaxed under her expert touch and he didn’t protest when she took his hand and led him up the stairs to the main bedroom, leaving the owner of the house unconscious where he sat.

  Chapter 40

  “How was he?” Daniel asked Quinn the second they came through the great doors.

  “I was fine,” Isaiah replied wryly, smiling at his oldest friend. “Although Quinn did discover my secret.”

  “It’s no secret,” Daniel remarked, “simply something you choose not to divulge.”

  Quinn was amazed that Daniel supported Isaiah’s decision to remain within the enchantments and deny his Slayer instincts. Daniel was a Hunter, after all, and the Slayer would be a great asset to his team. Quinn mused that she had underestimated Daniel’s compassion, just as she had underestimated Isaiah’s capacity for violence. It seemed there was more balance within the Guardianship than she had ever known.

  “You want to tell me what this evening was all about?” Daniel asked.

  “We have bad news,” Isaiah replied, taking a seat at the table. He looked exhausted – the evening had taken a toll on him, physically. Daniel sat beside him and Quinn moved around to sit opposite them.

  “How many?” were Daniel’s first words when Isaiah told him an attack was imminent.

  “An army is coming.”

  “And how do you know this?” Quinn opened her mouth to speak, but Isaiah beat her to it.