When the room was clear, Charlotte took a seat on the sofa, racking her brain. Her plan had backfired. She had wanted Sloane out of the way, but she had anticipated his followers being furious at his death. She had hoped that they would join her, united in a common goal – to avenge their leader. As it turned out, the mindless fools would follow Aleksei, to their deaths if they must. His dominion was unquestioned, unbreakable and unopposed. Charlotte bit back the bile in her throat as an eternity stretched before her, spent serving a man she detested.
Chapter 6
Miles away, lost in thoughts just as dark as Charlotte’s, but nowhere near as hedonistic, Drake prowled the perimeter of Lenora’s property. His body was coiled as tightly as the fists at his sides. He had tried a few times to reach out to Quinn during the course of the day, but she had shut him out every time. He had caught snippets of what she was up to, though, and the sight of Tristan made him sick to the stomach. Even though he knew that Quinn despised him, Drake couldn’t help feeling envious of Tristan. He had, after all, seduced Quinn and shared her bed. Something that Drake would never be able to do. He couldn’t believe that, after all this time, Quinn had finally admitted her true feelings and, in the same instant, she had been wrenched away from him. It didn’t bother him half as much as it should that she was now the Slayer. They would deal with that. Drake wasn’t afraid, not of her. It was the bond that terrified him. The bond would destroy them. It had to be broken; but how? His first thoughts had been the Book – the book that legend spoke of, which held all Eldon’s secrets – but Quinn would have known if it held any answers, and besides, Lenora had told him that the book had been destroyed. The Guardians had burned it when Summerfeld was attacked, choosing to destroy it rather than let it fall into enemy hands, which left them with nothing, nowhere to even begin searching for a way to break the bond.
For the first time in his life, Drake didn’t appreciate the warmth of the sun on his back. What did it matter if he could walk freely in the day if those days were spent alone without the woman he loved. The bond was his prison, as the day was Lenora’s.
Spotting the Fae boy who tended the unicorns leaving the barn, Drake realised he had ventured closer to the house than he intended. He could gauge how close Quinn was by the pain. It escalated in relation to their proximity. Velkan disappeared into the house and Drake turned back the way he had come, only to let out a yelp of surprise. Evangeline stood right behind him as though she had appeared out of thin air. The old faery woman unnerved Drake. Her comment during the wedding ceremony had troubled him. She had touched his cheek as though she knew something no one else did, and her words had been both encouraging and accusatory. She had told him to prepare himself, told him that it was almost time – but time for what, exactly?
“Are you ready?” Evangeline asked, her shock of white hair hanging past her shoulders. Unlike the other members of the Fae who typically braided their hair, Evangeline wore hers loose, giving her a wild, outlandish appearance. She had her bow and quiver slung over her shoulders and was holding a dead hare by the ears.
“Ready for what?” Drake snapped, disconcerted.
“Your choice,” Evangeline replied enigmatically.
“What choice?”
“I saw you in the barn,” she changed the subject abruptly. “The vampire staked you. You should have died.”
“I guess I got lucky,” Drake muttered, deciding that Evangeline was certifiably nuts. He wouldn’t get a word of sense out of her.
“No,” Evangeline all but sang, shaking her head, “you got her blood.”
Dimly, Drake recalled that Evangeline had been in the barn, hiding in the rafters as she brought down vampire after vampire with her arrows. She would have seen everything that happened.
“Are you going to tell anyone?” he asked.
“Not my secret to tell,” Evangeline tapped his cheek again, fondly, as though he was a small child she was consoling. “But you do need to prepare yourself. You must be ready.”
“Ready for what?” Drake raised his voice, but Evangeline had already brushed past him, picking her way delicately across the lawn, while the blood of the hare dripped behind her.
“Crazy old duck,” Drake mumbled. A small snapping sound to his left caught his attention and he turned to see a bird watching him curiously from a branch overhead. His jaw ached and it occurred to him that he had had no blood other than Quinn’s in the past forty-eight hours. Being with these people, socialising with them, made him feel even guiltier about his diet, but he needed to keep his strength up – now, more than ever.
Heaving a sigh, Drake made his way back to the pool-house in which Lenora had taken refuge from the sun.
“I can’t actually tell you how annoying it is that you can waltz around all day,” she announced dramatically, but her smile contradicted her tone. “You need to feed,” she added, taking in his pallor and the dark circles under his eyes. “Hannah would be happy to oblige.” Before Drake could stop her she called over the shy young maid. “Hannah offers her blood freely,” she said, as Drake made to argue. Accustomed to providing a food source solely for her mistress, the sight of Drake was almost too much for the young girl. She blushed profusely as Lenora waved her toward him.
Resigned, Drake ignored her proffered neck as she swept her fair hair off one shoulder. Instead, he took her hand, and with an almost clinical detachment, sunk his fangs into her wrist. Her blood pooled in his mouth, warm and wet and wrong, but he felt his strength returning almost immediately.
“Thank you,” he acknowledged, when he had finished, wiping the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. Hannah bobbed awkwardly before him and Lenora smiled as she walked away; a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, but she summoned some of her intrinsic sarcasm, trying to lighten the moment.
“It’s criminal that you have that effect on every woman you come into contact with,” she said. Drake ignored that.
“Will you stay with us?” he asked instead, wondering what Lenora would do once night fell.
“Us?” she raised a perfectly tweezed eyebrow. “You really are a true defender of Summerfeld now.”
“There is no Summerfeld. And I’m not choosing a side, I’m simply doing the right thing. If that puts me on their side, so be it. So,” he repeated, “will you stay with us?”
“What else would I do?”
“I don’t know. Run, hide, get as far away from all of this as possible.” He spoke without thinking, his own inner turmoil consuming him. He was so lost in thought that it took some time before he noticed that Lenora had fallen silent. Glancing across at her, he saw her fists clenched tightly beside her, her eyes fixed on the floor at her feet. Something about the dejected way she held herself snapped him out of his own private hell. He had been so focused on the bond and the agony of losing any possibility of a relationship with Quinn that he had all but forgotten that Lenora had lost Isaiah. Isaiah was gone and he wasn’t coming back. Despite the curse of the bond, Quinn was alive. She was here, safe, even if she was lost to him. Cursing his own selfishness, he placed a hand gently on Lenora’s arm.
“I’m a terrible friend,” he murmured softly. “Through everything that is going on I haven’t even asked you how you are.”
“I’m fine,” she replied, keeping her eyes downcast. “And I wouldn’t run. I’m not a coward.” She spoke with absolute certainty, but Drake could hear the underlying quaver in her voice as her emotion got the better of her.
“You’re not fine,” he contradicted. “Of course you’re not fine. I know how much Isaiah meant to you.” She flinched visibly at the mention of his name, but she recovered quickly.
“This is a war. We’ve all lost something or someone we cared about.”
“Yes, but I’m not talking about anyone else. I’m talking about you. You’re allowed to grieve, Lenora. You’re allowed to mourn him.”
“I will,” she nodded absently. “When this is over.”
“Miss Lenora?” A tentative voice int
errupted and Drake glanced up to find Dylan standing over them. He had a set of keys in his hand. “It’s ready. Do you still want me to...?”
“Go,” Lenora waved her hand at him. “Keep your phone on you. I’ll let you know where to meet us.”
Dylan nodded, but he hesitated before moving away. “Be safe,” he said eventually, seeming embarrassed by his obvious concern for her welfare, but Lenora smiled up at him.
“I will. You too, Dylan. I’ll see you soon.”
“What was that about?” Drake asked when the butler had left.
“A gift, for your friend Quinn.” He could tell that she would say no more.
They fell silent then, the minutes ticking slowly by. Drake could hear Guardians moving around outside, but he remained seated. His senses were so acute that he would sense an enemy approaching from where he sat, not that they had much to worry about with the sun beating down. After about an hour Lenora spoke, suddenly, and the sound seemed amplified after the extended silence.
“How can you walk in the sun?” The question was unexpected and Drake opened his mouth before shutting it again. “You never told me,” she continued, as though they were in the middle of a conversation. The sad accusation was impossible to miss. Lenora was his closest friend, she had helped him at his lowest, and yet he had kept his secret, even from her. She deserved more than that.
“I never told anybody.”
“Have you always been able to? I mean, right from the time you were turned?”
“Yes.” It was partly true.
“Only the magic of the Fae could allow you to do that...” It was the closest she was going to get to asking him who had bestowed the gift upon him.
“Yes.”
She smiled then, a secret smile.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No, what? Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking that you have more secrets than we could ever suspect.” Her tone was light, teasing, and he relaxed.
“Really? Any idea what those secrets are?”
“I have my suspicions.”
“Oh you do, do you? I bet they aren’t even close to the truth.”
“I bet you’d be surprised,” she replied cryptically, leaving him with a disconcerted feeling in his chest.
“So, Quinn is the Slayer now,” she changed the subject abruptly.
“Yes.”
“That can’t be easy for either of you.”
“You would know,” he pointed out. She had, after all, been romantically involved with a Slayer herself.
“Yes, but we didn’t have a bond to contend with.”
Drake’s head jerked up at that. “How do you know...?”
Lenora gave him a look that would have withered a lesser man. “I pay attention. You two have been inseparable for weeks. Now you can’t so much as be in the same room together. It wasn’t hard to figure out.”
“Did you and Isaiah...?”
“No,” she shook her head. “Isaiah was very careful. When we met, before he became the Slayer, he knew the risk of the bond.”
“So did Quinn.”
“Don’t judge her. If my life had been in jeopardy, I have no doubt Isaiah would have done the same thing, bond be damned. She saved your life.” She raised her brow as her curiosity got the better of her. “How does it work, exactly?”
“It’s hard to explain, but it’s as though our minds are linked. It gets harder to separate our own thoughts the closer we get to one another. Everything becomes a jumble.”
“Is it painful?”
“Excruciating.” The sudden urge to confide in somebody else overwhelmed him. “She told me she’s in love with me.”
Lenora grinned, despite herself. “As if we didn’t know that already,” she teased, until the haunted look on his face sobered her. “I’m sorry. It can’t be easy, finally getting the girl and then having her ripped away in such a cruel way.”
“I’m going to find a way to break the bond.” His words were utterly serious.
“Eldon’s magic won’t be easy to undo. It’s a powerful charm.”
“Quinn is going to open that Gateway,” he insisted with absolute conviction. “And when she does, the Fae’s magic will undo the charm.” Lenora didn’t quite think it worked that way, but she kept her thoughts to herself.
Chapter 7
Quinn hung up on Charlotte, her mind already working out the logistics of her plan.
“You’re sure your crystal is there?” she asked Tristan, slipping his phone into her pocket. She might need it to contact Charlotte again. Having revealed the location of the crystals, Tristan was now imparting information all too easily.
“Yes, I can sense it. It’s there. I can only assume the other one is with it. Oliver too.”
“Oliver?”
“Lucas’s replacement,” Tristan looked suitably ashamed of himself.
“Charlotte has the new Guardian?” It was a blow, but not unexpected. “She’ll have him in her dungeon prison,” she continued. Tristan didn’t reply but he nodded in agreement.
“Quinn, there’s something else you need to know.” What he told her next chilled Quinn to her very core, but she listened and remained outwardly calm.
“Thank you,” she said when he was finished. A second later Avery entered the room.
“We should pack,” she said, not looking at Tristan. “If we want to get there by Friday we’ll need to leave soon.”
“No,” Quinn shook her head as Tristan’s eyes widened in horror. “You’re not coming with me.”
“What are you talking about? Of course I am.”
“No, Avery, you’re not. I gave my word.” Her eyes met Tristan’s and Avery didn’t skip a beat.
“To who... him?” she asked incredulously. “So what? He’s a traitor, we don’t owe him anything!”
Tristan’s face fell, but Quinn was resolute. “That’s what sets us apart from him,” she insisted. “We don’t go back on our promises.”
Outside in the hall, Quinn motioned the guard to resume his watch over Tristan. Braddon was waiting a short way down the hall, his face set in a mask of calm, but Quinn could sense his concern.
“Dad, I need you to call all the Guardians back to the library,” Quinn told him.
“Everything okay?”
“No, not really, but we do have new information. I’d like to let everyone know.” Braddon nodded once and then headed in the direction of the stairs.
A spitting Avery followed her all the way back toward the library, hurling insults and a never-ending stream of reasons why she should accompany Quinn to Charlotte’s.
“I owe that bitch!” she said finally.
“I’m not discussing this with you, Avery. You’re not coming. Now, you can hate me for it, and you can curse me all you like, but I’m not going to change my mind. You’re in no state to face her, and, even if you were, she knows how much you mean to me. If she got hold of you...” Quinn swallowed down a lump that had formed in her throat. “You’re not coming.” It was final.
“It’s not your call to make.”
“Actually, it is. This is my mission.”
“Oh really?” Avery sneered. “Who died and made you God?”
“Isaiah,” Quinn replied flatly.
When she re-entered the library, Daniel was waiting, but Quinn had to delay him once more.
“I’ve called everyone back,” she announced. “There’s something they all need to hear.”
While they waited for the other Guardians to arrive, having left everyone else to pack up the assortment of vehicles that would be transporting them to the Lindberg farm, Quinn, Avery and Daniel sat in silence. Avery had her arms crossed so tightly over her chest that Quinn wondered if she’d ever be able to uncross them, but she ignored the dark looks Avery threw her way. She could hear Primera whinnying as Kellan tried to coax him into one of the horseboxes. Lenora had offered up every vehicle she had at her disposal which included a small
fleet of quality horseboxes she used to transport her racehorses. Through it all, Quinn was hyper-aware of Drake. He had slipped into her mind and settled himself there, giving her a dull, throbbing ache in her temples.
I don’t suppose you’d step outside for this? Quinn asked.
Not in a million years. If you’re determined to go through with this suicide mission, I at least want to know all the facts. I might even be able to help. I’m a master strategist.
I bet.
He fell silent then, but she knew he was listening to her thoughts. It didn’t take long. Guardians were used to following instructions swiftly, and without question, and in only a few minutes they had gathered. When they were all seated, Quinn stepped into their midst.
“As you know, we spoke with Tristan,” she said, deliberately including Avery. She needn’t have bothered. Avery simply turned away so that Quinn was rewarded with the sight of her back. Quinn stifled a groan of frustration. “The first thing you all need to know is that Aleksei is back,” she announced bluntly. There was no easy way to break it to them, and she herself was still reeling from the shock of Tristan’s revelation, but at least his warning would mean that they were prepared. In her head, Quinn felt Drake’s knee-jerk reaction to the name, a mixture of fear, loathing and reverence, but she didn’t judge him for it. Aleksei was, to the vampires, what Eldon had been to her own people – their leader, their sovereign, their king. She didn’t expect Drake to simply forget everything he had ever believed in.
“That’s impossible,” a chorus of dissent broke out, but Quinn shook her head sadly. The only good thing to come from her proclamation was that Avery swivelled in her chair. That got her attention, Quinn thought darkly. Avery hadn’t heard about Aleksei, nor had she been in the room when Quinn had made the call to Charlotte.
“I wish that were true,” Quinn said, “but it’s not. Aleksei is back. The sooner we accept it, the sooner we can figure out how to deal with it.”
“There is no dealing with Aleksei,” Avery scoffed. “Not even Eldon could defeat him. How are we supposed to?” Again, Quinn sensed the darkness in her sister, the negativity and the loss of hope.
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