“They’re not like the others.”
“They’re all the God-damned same!” Avery growled. “And you’re a fool if you believe any different.”
“Avery,” Braddon interrupted gently. “You’ve been away a long time. These vampires... without them we would never have escaped the City. The wards would all have been destroyed. They’re good people.”
“They’re not people, they’re monsters,” Avery reminded. “And just you wait... they’ll turn on you. It’s only a matter of time.” Quinn didn’t know what disturbed her more. The hatred in her sister’s heart or the fact that she said “you” instead of “us” as though she was no longer a Guardian.
Chapter 34
“We’ve come full circle!” Tristan yelled, running his hands through his messy hair. “We spent the whole day walking and we’ve barely covered two miles!”
“I must have misread the last sign,” Cara retorted hotly. ‘It’s not an exact science!”
“Or you’re deliberately trying to buy time!”
“What good would that do?” Cara’s cheeks flushed. “The sooner we find them, the sooner Zebulon and I are free of you people!” This is what Charlotte had promised, but Cara didn’t believe a word of it. Tristan was right, of course, she was procrastinating because Rowena was close. The signs were becoming closer and closer together and she suspected they would soon come across her and the others. Cara dreaded the confrontation and so, today, she had taken them on a different course, zigzagging across the countryside until they had ended up very near where they had started.
“Charlotte is going to throw a fit,” Tristan warned. The mention of her name reminded Cara of something and she quickly set about making the fire, fanning the flames before smothering them with the smoke-logged blanket. Tristan didn’t even bother questioning her unusual methods. Instead, he moved away, collecting wood so that they would have something to burn all night. The chill in the air was turning icy, and without the fire they would spend all night trying not to freeze.
As soon as the fire was blazing, Cara turned her attention to an empty plastic water bottle she had been carrying since this morning.
“I need your stake,” she instructed, but Tristan ignored her. “Your stake,” Cara pressed, more insistently.
“I don’t have one,” Tristan snapped. He was colluding with vampires now and Charlotte would not allow him to arm himself with a weapon that could destroy her kind. Cara smiled smugly, drawing the same conclusion.
“Your knife, then,” she sneered, holding out her hand. Gritting his teeth, Tristan tossed it across to her. A moment later he gave a roar of surprise.
“What in God’s name are you doing?”
Cara had pressed the point of the blade hard into her flesh, cutting a deep gash in her wrist. Ignoring him, she cast the knife aside, turning her arm so that the blood ran down her hand and ran off her finger into the plastic bottle.
“She will not lay a finger on me again,” Cara hissed, and despite himself, Tristan was impressed. The girl had guts, although, knowing Charlotte, she would not be so easily swayed.
“You’re only making things harder for yourself,” he warned, but Cara ignored him. Picking up the knife, Tristan wiped the bloodied blade on the grass.
The plastic bottle was half-filled by the time the trickle of blood began to slow to a steady dripping. Satisfied, Cara ripped a small length of cloth from her skirt and wrapped it tightly around the wound, applying pressure with her right hand. Tristan got up to make his daily call to Charlotte and Cara watched him head further out into the woods than normal. Glancing across at her husband she found him eying the blood-filled bottle with revulsion. As his eyes lifted to meet hers, a pained expression crossed his face.
“Are you okay?” he whispered. Cara nodded, but they both knew that nothing would ever be okay again. “What are you up to?” Zebulon asked. He knew Cara well enough to know that she would not get lost. She was up to something. Rather than tell him the truth which he could be compelled to reveal, Cara simply shook her head.
Tristan returned quickly, a frown marring his handsome face. His eyes were blue and his blond hair thick, but Cara thought his features were too refined, too weak, to be attractive.
“There’s a stream back there,” Tristan muttered, jerking his thumb in the direction he had just come from. “I thought you might want to wash.” Cara hadn’t bathed in days. Her hair stuck to her face in a filthy mass and she could smell her own perspiration with every move she made. When she adjusted her skirts, the stench was foul. As desperate as she was to be clean, his unexpected kindness unnerved her, so instead, she simply fixed him with a hateful glare. Let him deal with the stench. If it made him uncomfortable, all the better.
Chapter 35
The sounds of fighting reached her before Quinn even opened the front door. Outside on the front lawn, she found Liam, Garrett, Austin and Monique training, while Isaiah and the Orochian watched over them. The dragon looked unimpressed with the human frivolity, but Isaiah’s eyes were narrowed in concentration. He gave her a small nod by way of greeting, before turning his attention back to the others and Quinn moved around the sparring partners, keeping out of their way, until she came to stand beside him. On the opposite end of the vast lawn, a group of Fae were practising shooting, the sound of their arrows whistling through the air audible, even over the grunts of the training Guardians.
“Thanks for coming,” Isaiah murmured, as Austin dropped to the ground at Monique’s feet.
“How’s Avery?” Isaiah continued calmly, signalling to the pair to take a break.
“She’s okay. Weak, but alive.” She emphasised that last word and Isaiah smiled, registering the barb.
“I am sorry I doubted you, Quinn.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Quinn felt ashamed. “Isn’t the wedding starting soon?” Piper had told her all about it when she had popped in to visit Avery earlier.
“It’s almost time,” Isaiah confirmed, “but I thought I’d get in one last session before we stop for the day. Which is actually why I asked you to join us.”
“I’m not really in the mood for training.”
“I know, and I’m sorry to ask, but Liam and Garrett have such similar styles that Austin’s not really learning anything new.”
“Do you think he could even defend himself yet?”
“He has the basic skills, but his military training is too ingrained. And I can’t get him to forget about that gun.”
“What do you want me to do?” Quinn sighed.
Isaiah stepped forward and immediately, Liam and Garrett stopped sparring, turning to face him.
“Garrett, why don’t you head on inside,” Isaiah suggested, and Garrett trotted off, wiping the sweat from the back of his neck. “Quinn,” he gestured her forward and Liam grinned. Their relationship had improved since she had joined the Hunters’ ranks, but he had been a Hunter for a very long time and was no doubt looking forward to dropping her on her ass.
Monique and Austin were sitting on the grass nearby, watching, and Isaiah beckoned them over.
Without waiting for Isaiah’s signal, Quinn and Liam faced off. Quinn brought her arms up to protect her face and Liam sauntered forward insolently. Quinn wasn’t fooled. She had seen Liam fight, and he was quick – almost as quick as she was - and stronger too. He had one weakness, however, he was overconfident. Liam had grown lazy over the years and hardly spent any time training, whereas Quinn trained harder than any other Guardian.
Ten minutes later Liam’s smile had been wiped off his face. Despite his best efforts he hadn’t managed to land a single blow. Quinn seemed to anticipate his every move and moved like a ghost, so fast that he barely had time to correct himself.
“She’s tiring him out,” Isaiah murmured to Austin, who seemed highly amused by Quinn’s antics.
“So, you’re saying I should just dodge my opponents until they exhaust themselves?” he asked incredulously.
“No,�
� Isaiah laughed, “I’m saying you should read your opponent and play to his weakness.”
Austin stiffened suddenly and Isaiah didn’t have to turn around to know why. He sensed the vampire behind them, watching Quinn. Quinn also sensed Drake’s presence and the distraction was her undoing. Liam’s fist connected with her jaw, sending her reeling backwards, and a moment later he pinned her to the ground. The look of triumph on his face was infuriating.
“That’s another lesson,” Isaiah chuckled, as Quinn shoved Liam off her in a temper. “Don’t get distracted.”
“What’s the deal between the two of them?” Liam asked, as Quinn made her way over to where Drake was standing. His tone suggested he didn’t approve.
“Lesson number three,” Isaiah replied firmly, “don’t assume anything until you know all the facts.”
“Sorry,” Drake grinned, as Quinn rubbed her jaw.
“You don’t look it.”
“It’s nice to know I can still rattle you. How’s your sister?” he changed the subject before she could respond.
“She’s okay. Angry, obviously. I can’t believe Tristan sold her out to them; that he let her endure all of that.” The news that Tristan had faked Avery’s death had spread through the household like wildfire. “I had better get back to her,” Quinn added and Drake gave her a nod of understanding.
Quinn mentally prepared herself as she made her way up the stairs. She had thought it through and there was really no way she could keep Avery in the dark about what had happened between her and Tristan. It made her sick to the stomach to think that she had let herself get so close to him now that she knew what he had done, but Avery would find out sooner or later and Quinn would far rather she hear it from her directly.
Opening Avery’s door she expected to find Avery in bed, but, to her surprise, her sister was nowhere to be seen. Quinn suppressed a surge of panic.
“Avery?” she called.
“I’ll be out in a sec!” She slumped with relief at the sound of her sister’s voice coming from the adjoining bathroom.
“What have you done?” Quinn gasped when Avery finally opened the door. She was dressed in a pair of black pants which hung off her hips and a pale blue top. Loosely fitted as it was, it couldn’t disguise the protrusion of her ribs through the thin fabric. But it wasn’t the clothing that held Quinn’s gaze. Avery had hacked off her long hair just below her jaw-line. It was now shorter than Quinn’s and jagged, as though Avery had taken all her frustration and rage out in the act. It made her look harder, which Quinn supposed was fitting. She was struck once more by how changed Avery was.
Avery met her questioning look defiantly.
“I needed a change.”
“Okay,” Quinn nodded, “but... maybe you should let me neaten it up for you?” Avery shrugged, as though she couldn’t care less, but she did turn around and head back into the bathroom. Quinn followed, still not quite sure how to address what she had to say.
She worked in silence for a few minutes, the soft snick of the scissors the only sound. Avery’s hair littered the white tiles of the bathroom.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” she said eventually, not meeting Avery’s eyes in the mirror. “It’s about Tristan.” At the mention of his name, Avery’s shoulders tensed.
“What about him?”
“You have to understand, Avery, I didn’t know. I didn’t know what he had done to you. When they took Jack and Ava from me I was frantic, and I did everything I could to find them.”
“Find them? What do you mean find them?”
“I left. After you... died, I left Summerfeld to care for the twins. I was with them for two years and then they insisted I return...”
“But why would you do that? Kellan and Freya were supposed to...”
“I didn’t know. I didn’t know you wanted them raised in the City. I thought...” She tried desperately to keep the accusation out of her voice, but Avery heard it.
“You thought you knew what was best for my children?”
“No! I didn’t... Avery, we hated growing up in Summerfeld! I thought you wouldn’t want that for Jack and Ava.”
“No, Quinn, you hated growing up in Summerfeld,” the words were harsh, raw. “I only went along with you because you were too damn selfish to see what I wanted. I liked living inside the City. I loved Kellan and Freya and I didn’t want to leave.”
“You never said anything...” Quinn paused. That wasn’t entirely true. It had taken some convincing to get Avery to leave the City.
“Just get back to the point,” Avery snapped. If Quinn had had reservations before, she was now dreading telling Avery the truth.
“When I came back, Tristan... he was different. He was kind and there for me. We...” She didn’t finish the sentence. Avery spun around to face her, an expression of disgusted understanding blazing across her face.
“Tell me you didn’t sleep with him?” The truth was etched on Quinn’s face, the scissors hanging limply at her side. In the silence that followed Quinn focused on the sound of Avery’s breathing, too ashamed to look her in the eye, which is why she didn’t see it coming. Avery slapped her hard, across her left cheek, leaving a ringing sound echoing through the tiled room. Quinn’s face flamed as her sister stalked out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her. Unable to tear her eyes away from the sight of Avery’s hair on the floor, Quinn stood that way for the longest time.
It was Lenora who found her. “There you are! You do know the wedding is about to start?” Catching sight of Quinn’s face, she lowered her voice, only marginally, “I don’t know what it is, but it can wait. I’ve outdone myself with preparing this ceremony and you need to wash your face and get your pretty little self downstairs. You can deal with your issues later.” When Quinn didn’t move, Lenora heaved a dramatic sigh and swept from the room. A moment later a low voice sounded from the doorway.
“Quinn?” Drake’s voice.
“I should’ve known she’d send you,” Quinn sighed.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“I’m assuming you and Avery had a fight?”
“You could call it that.”
“Was it about Tristan?” Hearing him say it only embarrassed her more.
“I deserved it. I slept with the man who kidnapped her, took her away from her children and had her tortured. Never mind that, he’s responsible for the death of hundreds of the wards that I swore to protect.” She gave a gasping sob and Drake moved, putting his arms around her.
“It’s not your fault.”
“Whose fault is it then?” she gazed up at him hollowly. Her body trembled, waves of shame and despair crashing over her, but she was dry-eyed.
“Not yours,” he murmured again, pulling her against him and letting the warmth of his body melt the icy fear in her bones.
Chapter 36
Rowena descended the stairs, her fingers gripping Jonas’s arm. He had removed his cast himself, much to Rowena’s dismay, but he had insisted he would walk her down the aisle properly. At least he had left the cast on his right arm. The plush carpet was soft beneath her bare feet and Jonas gazed down at her proudly.
“You look beautiful,” he smiled, as they came to a halt outside the library door.
“Thank you. Should we do this?”
“Yes, let’s,” he nodded, straightening up and stepping forward.
When they entered the room, Rowena caught her breath. Every single inhabitant of the house was present, save for the three women who had been rescued by Quinn and her father. Every Guardian had made it, even Quinn’s sister, so recently returned to them, as well as all the wolves, and members of the Fae. Rowena felt tears prick at her eyes. She couldn’t believe they would set aside time in the midst of everything they were going through to be there for her and Balthazar. She spotted Monique near the front, waving happily, and noticed how Jonas’s face softened as he caught sight of her. It struck Rowena that in the short space of
time they had been together, their group had become like a family – looking out for one another, sharing their trials and their joys. Swallowing the lump in her throat she focused on the tall, dark-haired man at the front of the room. Balthazar. He looked so handsome; tall and straight-backed, but his right leg twitched as she approached and it melted her heart that he was so nervous.
When they reached the make-shift altar, Jonas kissed her cheek and placed her hand in Balthazar’s. Rowena noticed sunlight dancing on his face and realised that Lenora had left the curtains slightly open, allowing the last light of day inside. The vampires present were seated just out of range of the light. Lenora had truly thought of everything.
Cosima cleared her throat, her voice trembling as she began speaking, but growing in confidence with each passing second. The ceremony was a simple one and Rowena knew the words by heart, but they held new meaning now that they applied to her. Cosima stumbled over a particularly sentimental bit, and Rowena turned to smile reassuringly at her. As she did so, something caught her eye through the window and her breath caught in her throat. Cosima’s voice faded away as she focused on the grey smoke rising high above the trees far in the distance. Without realising it, she dropped Balthazar’s hand, stepping forward as she realised what it meant. When her hand touched the glass, so cold in comparison to Balthazar’s warm hand, she felt an icy dread run through her. Cosima had stopped speaking and an unearthly hush fell across the room.
At the same moment Evangeline stood, her milky eyes fixed on something no one else in the room could see. Weaving discreetly through the chairs she came to stand next to Drake who was sitting on the edge of the row, beside Lenora. Drake gazed up at her as she reached forward, laying a rough hand on his cheek.
“The time is coming,” she rasped, “you need to prepare yourself.”
Only a few people heard her. Few witnessed Drake’s shoulders stiffen at her words. The rest of the congregation were focused on Rowena, her hand still resting on the glass, her eyes watching the smoke rings in the distance.
Guardians of Summerfeld: Full Series: Books 1-4 Page 75
