They made their way to the gypsy clearing deep in the woods where Cara had last seen Rowena and Balthazar. Cara had no idea why the vampires wanted to find the others, but she did know that it wouldn’t end well for Rowena if they did find her. She had little choice, however. She had offered to help, in exchange for Zebulon’s life. She could only hope that she might find a way to warn them or that, perhaps, by some miracle, Rowena and Balthazar could save her and Zebulon. Perching on a large boulder, Charlotte waved a hand irritably at her.
“We don’t have much time,” she warned. Dawn was only a few hours away.
Cara searched frantically, but the cloud-filled sky blanketed the light of the moon and there were no stars to light her way. She knew that Charlotte would hold true to her word and kill them both if Cara failed to find a sign that might lead them to the others. She could sense the vampire’s irritation growing as the night drew on, but Cara kept searching, praying that she would find something – anything, that would appease her.
“Do you know what I think?” Charlotte’s voice sounded right behind her and Cara swivelled to find her standing only a foot away. “I think you were lying to me,” Charlotte continued ominously. “I don’t think that your friends left you any signs.”
“Rowena would have left something,” Cara insisted, relieved that she sounded convincing. She wasn’t lying; she knew Rowena would have left them a sign, she just couldn’t find it. “It’s too dark,” she continued, “I can’t see.”
Charlotte narrowed her eyes. Grabbing Cara’s bony shoulders she pulled her forward, holding her gaze.
“Tell me the truth,” she instructed, using enough compulsion to elicit the gypsy’s honesty.
“I can’t see,” Cara replied, her eyes fixed on Charlotte’s. Satisfied, Charlotte released her.
“Let’s go,” she ordered, “we will come back in the morning.” Leaving Cara to rest, she made her way over to Tristan’s.
“There’s been a change of plan,” she announced, the second he opened the door. “The girl needs to search during the day. You will accompany her and keep me posted. I will join you every evening until we find them. Oh, and Tristan,” she added, as she turned to leave, “before you concoct any plans to run off and search for your wife, bear in mind that I will find her first, and that without me, she will never forget everything you’ve done.” Charlotte smiled spitefully. “You will never get your wife back without me.”
Chapter 25
Lenora moved diligently from room to room, searching each one for Rowena. Eventually, she found the gypsy woman sitting in the vast kitchen, a cup of coffee steaming in her hands.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Lenora smiled, taking a seat opposite her.
“What for?”
“I hear you and Balthazar have some happy news.”
“Oh,” Rowena smiled shyly, “that.”
“I’m assuming by your age that it’s not a shotgun wedding,” Lenora continued gaily, oblivious to her own tactlessness, “but rather the fear of imminent death that has made us all take stock and reassess what’s important?” Completely taken aback, Rowena could do nothing but nod mutely.
“Good!” Lenora clapped her hands happily. “In that case, I’ve arranged for a minister. How does the day after tomorrow suit you?” Rowena found her tongue.
“For what... a wedding?” she gaped. “You can’t be serious?”
“Of course I’m serious. There’s been enough catastrophe and heartache around here to last a lifetime and a wedding would certainly lift the mood. Besides,” Lenora leaned forward conspiratorially, “you aren’t getting any younger my dear.”
Rowena ignored the unintentional barb. She couldn’t believe the vampire would even suggest such a thing given what they were all facing. The Guardians were in a state; Quinn had yet to return safely and the wards were only just barely keeping it together in their new environment.
“We can’t possibly get married in the middle of all this!” she exclaimed.
“Of course you can. What else do you have to do?”
To Rowena’s utter surprise, Balthazar was delighted with the idea. He had wanted to marry her for so many years and, now that he finally had her consent, he didn’t see any reason not to go through with it. The only thing he disagreed with was the use of a traditional minister.
“That’s not how we do it,” he explained politely, when Lenora questioned him, “we have our own traditions and a gypsy will perform the ceremony.”
“But Balthazar,” Rowena pulled him away from a grinning Lenora, “this isn’t really the time to...” He didn’t let her finish. Instead, he took her gently by the shoulders and gazed deep into her eyes.
“We may not have much time left,” he murmured softly. They both knew it was true but speaking the words out loud only served to emphasise how much they had to lose. They had come this far and their family was finally happy, finally together and fulfilling their life-long purpose. It was that much more precious because it could be wrenched away from them any minute. Seeing the tears well up in her eyes, Balthazar tightened his grip on her slim shoulder.
“Do you love me?” he asked plainly.
“You know I do.”
“Prove it,” he challenged, an affectionate gleam in his eyes. “Marry me.”
“And?” Lenora asked the second they returned.
“Cosima knows the rituals,” Rowena nodded shyly, “and Jonas can be a witness. We don’t need to tell the others; the Guardians have enough on their plates right now,” she continued. “We don’t expect them to be there, but we do need a second witness if you would be so kind?”
“I would be honoured,” Lenora smiled, “but I’d prefer not to be burnt to a crisp, so, if at all possible, would you mind if we held the ceremony indoors?”
Having secured their consent, Lenora threw herself into the wedding preparations. In truth, she was doing this for herself as much as Balthazar and Rowena. She needed something to occupy her mind given that far too much of her time of late was spent dwelling on Isaiah. She couldn’t get that kiss out of her mind, although, since then, they had not had a moment alone together. The Guardians were so busy planning their next move that she felt she would only be in their way and planning a wedding was the perfect distraction, as simple as the wedding would be.
Isaiah found her in the kitchen, looking remarkably human, wearing a white apron and flour on her cheek. Her brown hair was escaping its pins, damp with the steam that filled the room.
“Pass me that silver rack over there, please,” she instructed, gesturing at the far counter.
“What on earth are you doing?” he asked, handing it over.
“I’m making a cake,” she replied, “a wedding cake. Balthazar and Rowena are getting married tomorrow.”
“Really?” his astonished surprise was genuine, as was the smile that spread across his face. “Well, that’s good news. Can I taste?” he added, gesturing at the cooling cakes.
“You can have some of this,” she passed him a spare plate on which stood a cooled circular cake. “It was my first attempt... I used far too much vanilla.” Isaiah broke off a chunk and leaned back against the counter.
“Tastes fine to me.”
“Shows how much you know. It has to be perfect... They don’t want any fuss,” Lenora sighed, “but I want it to be special. After all, a girl’s wedding day is one of the most important days of her life!”
“As if you would know!” he teased.
“Actually,” she replied haughtily, “I have been married. Twice, if you must know.” Isaiah choked on the cake he had just crammed into his mouth.
“Surprised?” she smirked. “Did you think I was waiting around for you to swoop in and apologise?”
“No,” he shook his head soberly, dropping the remains of his chunk of cake back onto the plate. “I thought you were dead, remember?” At his words the light atmosphere vanished.
“Don’t let your guilt ruin this,” Lenora murm
ured, almost to herself. “I was angry for a long time but I’m not anymore.”
“I loved you,” he replied thickly. “What I did to you was unforgiveable.”
“That’s my decision to make, not yours. Besides, if you’d met either of my husbands you would realise that you weren’t the worst boyfriend in the world.” The twinkle in her eye relaxed him, and he listened as she regaled him with the stories of the men who had succumbed to her charms, only to be discarded when Lenora’s mind had wandered elsewhere. She had always been flighty and impulsive, and secretly, Isaiah sympathised with the poor men who had not known how to handle her.
“Any word from Quinn or the others?” she asked eventually, when the conversation ran dry.
“Not yet. I doubt she’ll contact us until she finds something.”
“Do you think she will?”
“No,” he shook his head regrettably. “I saw Avery’s body. Quinn is chasing a ghost.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“I’m going to do what I have always done – prepare the Guardians; starting with Austin. We have to be at our absolute best. Which brings me to why I came looking for you,” he added. “Would you mind if I use the library as a temporary training room? It’s big enough if I move some furniture around. We’ve been training outside but I’d prefer the quiet.”
“Not at all,” Lenora obliged immediately. “I’ll have Dylan clear it out now. But be warned, you can’t use it tomorrow. I’m hosting the wedding in there.”
Isaiah felt a grim satisfaction as Monique’s stake ground to a halt less than half an inch from Austin’s chest. The girl was sweating, her red hair darkened to a deep ruby colour, and the front of her shirt was drenched, but she never wavered in her efforts. Her slim body was transforming too – she was leaner, harder than when she had first arrived in Cliffdale. The lines of her face were more pronounced; every ounce of her puppy fat had been melted away by the rigorous training she had been subjected to. Now her eyes shone with the delight of winning, something she wasn’t accustomed to when training with the other Guardians, all of whom had decades of experience.
Austin was becoming increasingly frustrated. When Isaiah had suggested Monique as a sparring partner, he had rolled his eyes, thinking that the older Guardian was being too soft on him, but Monique had bested him five for five now. He had stopped trying to go easy on her shortly after her first victory, but it didn’t matter how hard he tried, the girl seemed to anticipate his every move. He was stronger, of that he was certain, but she was quick – quicker than he could ever have imagined. Every time he lunged at her she seemed to disappear, materialising an instant later in another spot with a clear shot at his heart.
As they prepared to face off once more, Austin made a concerted effort to protect his chest, but barely a minute in, Isaiah called them to a halt.
“A vampire will go for your throat, not your chest, Austin,” he spoke in that calm, placating way of his and Austin fought the urge to scream.
“She’s aiming for my chest,” he couldn’t hide the note of sarcasm in his voice.
“She’s been trained to fight vampires,” Isaiah shrugged, as if that explained it. Monique sensed that Austin was losing control of his temper and she quickly offered a solution.
“Why don’t we put the stakes down and just practice some fighting moves?”
At Isaiah’s nod, they set their stakes down on a nearby shelf and took up their positions. Without the advantage of a clear goal, Monique’s agility was not as advantageous. She darted out of Austin’s reach a few times, but she couldn’t really land any debilitating blows, and so they parried for a time, neither gaining an edge over the other. Austin was tiring, but Monique had lost her focus. Isaiah saw what was going to happen the instant before Austin’s fist connected heavily with Monique’s jaw, but he was powerless to stop it. Monique spun almost 180 degrees before landing heavily on her stomach, her outstretched arms only barely taking the brunt of her fall.
Austin reached her at the same time as Isaiah, a horrified expression on his face. He had been lashing out more wildly, trying to land at least one blow, but he hadn’t expected the timing to be so perfect.
“It was an accident,” Isaiah assured him, helping Monique to a sitting position. The entire left side of her jaw-line was bright red, but already they could see the onset of an ugly bruise. Monique pressed her hand to her jaw gingerly, wincing at even the slightest pressure.
“Is it broken?” Austin asked, feeling like the world’s biggest prat.
“No,” Isaiah reassured him, “it’s just badly bruised but she’ll heal quickly, won’t you?” he winked at Monique, who nodded, feeling worse for Austin than she did for herself. “Go and put some ice on it,” Isaiah helped her to her feet.
Leaving them to continue training, Monique slipped from the room. Bypassing the kitchen, she made her way to Jonas’s room and crept inside quietly so as not to wake him. To her surprise, he was out of bed. Balthazar was helping him into a beige suit jacket.
“Hey!” she called, delighted to find him up and about. “What are you doing out of bed?”
“Dad and Rowena are getting married tomorrow,” he replied, grinning.
“Really?” her voice rose shrilly. “That’s wonderful!”
“Jonas is going to be a witness so we thought he needed something a bit smarter than what we brought with us,” Balthazar said. He looked younger, as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders and a blazingly triumphant grin was set firmly on his face. Monique found that for once, she wasn’t at all intimidated by him.“Lenora’s lent us some clothes,” Balthazar continued, pulling the left sleeve over Jonas’s plaster cast and straightening the lapel. After a moment’s consideration, he nodded approvingly. “It’s a bit big, but you aren’t going to get anything smaller over those casts.”
“You look very handsome,” Monique agreed shyly, and Jonas straightened his shoulders.
“You’ll be my date?”
“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it.”
“We understand that the Guardians probably won’t be able to make it,” Balthazar quickly interjected, “with everything going on, we don’t want to make a big fuss.” Monique’s happiness vanished as quickly as it had come.
“If it’s a private ceremony, I could always stay away,” she murmured, trying to keep her voice light. “I really wouldn’t want to intrude.” Realising his error, Balthazar quickly tried to explain himself.
“No! You misunderstand me, Monique. I would be honoured to have you there. In fact, I would be honoured to have every Guardian attend, it’s just that I know how busy you all are and that this isn’t a good time. I don’t expect the Guardians to simply drop everything they are doing to come to a gypsy marriage ceremony.” Monique nodded her understanding.
“Well, I’ll definitely be there,” she promised.
Chapter 26
The atmosphere in the car was tense and Quinn focused on the road ahead. Braddon and Drake had spoken only a handful of times during the past few hours and only directly to her. They studiously ignored one another and the strain was taking its toll on Quinn. Despite the lateness of the hour, neither she nor Braddon felt tired, and Drake was used to being alert at night.
“Take this turn,” Braddon murmured, consulting the GPS.
“No. Stay on this road, it’s quicker,” Drake interrupted and Quinn was reminded painfully that he knew exactly where they were going. She wondered how long he had been in love with Charlotte – how much time they had spent together before he had finally left her. Braddon cast Quinn a dark glance as she drove straight on, following Drake’s instruction.
Another hour passed and she felt the tension of so many hours at the wheel mounting in her neck and shoulders.
“When we get to the next stop, I can drive,” Drake murmured, noticing how she flexed, trying to ease the dull ache. “You are both welcome to sleep.”
“Thanks,” Quinn accepted gratefully. She wasn’t ti
red, but she could use a break. Climbing into the passenger seat a short while later, she leaned back against the plush leather and closed her eyes. She still couldn’t believe that Avery was alive. She had no idea how her sister had survived, or where she had been, but one thing she was absolutely certain of was that it was not Avery’s body that lay buried in the Cliffdale cemetery.
Quinn shifted in her seat as the thoughts swirled around and around in her head. Somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, she heard Drake speak.
“You should get some rest, too. It’s a long drive ahead and you can take the next shift.”
“I’m fine,” came her father’s terse reply.
“You don’t like me very much,” Drake mused. It wasn’t a question, but Braddon’s answer surprised Quinn.
“I haven’t made up my mind about you yet.”
“Fair enough,” Drake nodded. “But I can assure you that I have only your best interests at heart.”
“You mean her best interests,” Braddon remarked wryly.
“I won’t deny that I’m here for her. Or that, if it came down to it, I would protect her above anyone else.”
“Guardians don’t work that way,” Braddon reminded him. “No single Guardian’s life is worth more than any other.” In the dim light of the car, Quinn noticed a wry smile cross Drake’s face.
“If you really believed that you wouldn’t be here,” he pointed out. “You are risking the lives of the others to find your daughter.”
They lapsed into silence after that and Quinn finally fell asleep, to be woken by the sound of a door slamming. Rubbing her eyes, she felt the warmth of the sunlight on her face as it filtered through the window. She sat up as Braddon took the wheel, trading places with Drake, and wondered if her father had slept at all. They had stopped at a small gas station, complete with creaking metal signpost. A young girl with curly blonde hair waved at Quinn from the adjacent car. Drake was nowhere to be seen.
“Where is he?” she asked her father as she waved back.
Guardians of Summerfeld: Full Series: Books 1-4 Page 70
