Guardians of Summerfeld: Full Series: Books 1-4

by Melissa Delport

  “Liam?” He heard Rowena gasp into the phone. In the background he heard a howl that could only belong to Jonas. Monique’s screams had filled the night air and, no doubt, everyone on the other end of the line had heard her. “Liam!” Rowena tried again, but still he didn’t reply. Monique was stumbling toward him and, as she got closer, he caught sight of her blistered, raw flesh. The acrid smell hit him and he choked back the bile that rose in his throat. He wanted to get up and help her, but Quinn’s life hung in the balance and every second that they lost, caused her chances of survival to slip away. Dropping the phone on the grass beside him, Liam grabbed hold of the jagged edge of the splinter.

  Monique was almost upon them when her strength failed her. She couldn’t hold on to the sword any longer and Liam wasn’t surprised. She had managed to cling to consciousness so far, but the pain finally won and she dropped it near his feet before collapsing in a heap. Wasting no more time, Liam pulled at the splinter, roaring with the effort. The shard of wood pulled free with an awful sucking sound and he threw it aside in disgust. As expected, blood gurgled from the gaping hole, filling up inside of it and then spilling over, forming a crimson stream down Quinn’s torso. Liam’s fingers slipped as he grabbed the sword, lying just within reach on the grass beside him. He winced as the golden hilt burnt his own hands, nowhere near as badly as it must have been for Monique, but excruciating nonetheless. The silver blade was glowing a luminous orange. Without stopping to think about it, he pressed the flat side of the blade down on the wound. The sizzling sound as the wetness of the blood touched the heated silver made him sick to his stomach, but what was far worse was Quinn waking, an unearthly sound erupting from her chest as her eyes rolled back in her head. Snatching up the sword, Liam felt a surge of hope. Quinn’s stomach was badly burned, but the bleeding had stopped.

  Liam could hear the frantic calls for his attention coming from the phone but he ignored them. He rolled Quinn over, as gently as he could manage. Her body had gone limp again and he prayed that she had simply passed out from the pain. A fresh panic overwhelmed him as he saw the pool of blood on the ground beneath her body, but he forced it down, pressing the blade against the wound on her back. Only once he was sure the bleeding had stopped, did he drop the sword with a clatter and lift the phone to his ear.

  “It’s done,” he whispered.

  “Monique?” Rowena finally asked. Liam could hear Jonas chattering, no doubt frantic with worry beside her.

  “She’s going to be okay. She burnt her hands...” Liam’s voice failed him as he surveyed the two Guardians unconscious on the ground beside him. Drawing in a shaky breath, he asked, “Will Quinn heal?”

  “I... I don’t...” Rowena fell silent and Liam heard the muffled sounds of the phone changing hands.

  “I don’t know,” Daniel replied. “I can’t tell without knowing the extent of Quinn’s injuries. It’s the internal damage we don’t know about. But the healing power of the Slayer is like nothing I’ve ever seen. If she’s still alive in the next hour, I think she’ll survive.”

  “I guess I’ll speak to you again in an hour, then,” Liam replied brusquely, cutting the call and dropping his head into his bloodied hands.

  Chapter 18

  Once Liam had cut the call there was nothing for anybody at the farm to do but wait for further news. In the hour that followed, Drake was vaguely aware that the gypsy named Cara had taken charge, insisting people eat, making tea which nobody drank and offering soft words of encouragement. She was least affected by what had happened, given that she had no personal connection to either of the injured Guardians, but, unbeknown to him, Cara felt the collective pain of the people around her and her heart went out to all of them. She had lost her husband so recently she was all too aware of the pain of loss. Braddon, Avery and Jonas were in a state. Drake noticed that, in light of this new information, Lenora’s compulsion seemed to have worn off and Jonas was beside himself with worry, but at least he had the comfort of knowing that, while she was badly hurt, Monique would recover. The same couldn’t be said for Quinn.

  Drake remained detached from the group, keeping to himself. He was living his own private hell. He now felt nothing but relief that Charlotte was dead. It was laughable that he had ever believed he loved her, not now that he knew the true meaning of the word. Now that he truly loved, with his whole heart and soul. His world had changed the day he had met Quinn. She had opened his eyes and his heart, after a lifetime of denying the truth.

  He should have told her the truth about himself when he had the chance. Now she might die, never knowing, and for some reason the thought crippled him. It didn’t change anything because she loved him as he was, despite his dark side, but he wished she could also see the good that lay buried inside.

  As the torturous hour ticked slowly by, Drake reached out to her, over and over, her name an endless talisman that his mind repeated constantly. The fear burning inside of him fanned brighter with every passing minute but still he held onto her name. The Guardians, wards and gypsies were congregated in a tight cluster, drawing together as they united in their concern, but Drake wanted no part of it. He was isolated - an outsider - as he always had been. It was only ever Quinn who had made him feel that he wasn’t alone and now she was gone, out of his head, and he had never felt more abandoned.

  “Drake?” Braddon’s voice interrupted his incessant pondering and Drake glanced up to find the Guardian standing only a few feet away. It pained Drake to look into his eyes because they were so similar to Quinn’s.

  “Yes?” Wondering what Braddon could possibly want, Drake waited.

  “Are you okay?” Braddon asked kindly and Drake’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “Why are you out here by yourself?” Braddon continued.

  “I’m not one of you,” Drake tried to keep his voice as neutral as possible. “I don’t belong up there.” He jerked his head in the direction of the others.

  Braddon smiled a small, tight smile. “Do you know, when Quinn was a little girl, she used to question everything I told her. She asked me why we couldn’t just ask the vampires to be nicer, to stop hurting people. She thought it would be that simple to end their Quest. I explained over and over that the world just didn’t work that way,” he chuckled sadly, “but still, she persisted.”

  “I can imagine,” Drake drawled. “She’s stubborn as hell.”

  “She is,” Braddon agreed proudly. “And reckless, insubordinate, hell-bent on breaking all the rules... but, my daughter is no fool,” the change in his tone made Drake pay attention, “and perhaps she was right. You love Quinn, it’s as plain as day. Maybe all this fighting wasn’t necessary after all. If she could convince you, perhaps we might have convinced others. Only we didn’t even try. Instead, we waged war against anyone like you, without exception. I find myself wondering if we are different from the vampires after all.”

  “There are not many like Lenora and I,” Drake conceded. “Most of us believe you are the enemy. They won’t stop coming for you. I hate to admit it but Quinn was wrong, Braddon, and as noble as the thought is, this war was inevitable.”

  “You are different,” Braddon nodded. “Which is exactly my point. You’re not one of them. You risked your life to help us, to protect the wards. You’re standing here worried about exactly the same thing we are. You are one of us, Drake, whether you like it or not. And you do belong there,” he glanced back at the others. “It’s only you who doesn’t realise it yet.”

  Unbelievably touched, Drake opened his mouth to speak but in the instant that he did, Quinn’s voice called to him. It was faint, but undeniably her. Drake froze, not daring to hope until he heard it again.

  Drake?

  I’m here. He stumbled slightly with the sheer relief at hearing her voice. Are you okay?

  I don’t know. I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus.

  His heart swelled at her pathetic attempt at humour and then threatened to burst from his chest as her next words came through loud and cl
ear.

  I need you.

  Jerking back to reality, Drake grabbed Braddon’s shoulders. “She’s okay! She’s alive!” He could barely suppress his delight, not caring about anything other than the fact that Quinn was alive. Mercifully, beautifully, unbelievably alive. How could he have doubted her? He should have known she’d pull through. She was the strongest woman he had ever met.

  “What?” Braddon eyes widened in surprise. “How do you...?”

  “It’s not quite how I wanted you to find out, but Quinn and I are bonded.” The words poured unbidden from his mouth but Drake found that he honestly didn’t care. He wouldn’t hide, not for another second. He had believed, for the most painful moments of his life that he had lost her and he wasn’t going to ever feel that way again. Quinn belonged with him and he defied anyone to challenge that fact. “Long story,” he added, as Braddon’s jaw dropped open, “but she needs me. I have to go.” To his surprise, Braddon didn’t question him.

  “I’m coming with you,” was all he said.

  “Fine, but we have to leave now.”

  I’m on my way, Drake promised Quinn as he and Braddon jogged back toward the others.

  Quinn felt a calm come over her at Drake’s words. She had woken and her very first conscious thought had been a desperate need to see him. She was frightened, although she didn’t want to admit it, and the pain was excruciating, but knowing she would see Drake soon buoyed her spirits. Tentatively, she opened her eyes, wincing at the bright light.

  “Liam?” she croaked, seeing nothing but blue skies above her. Almost immediately, Liam’s face loomed above hers, his eyes searching her face frantically.

  “You’re alive!” he gasped, as though he didn’t dare believe it. Quinn noticed he was bare-chested, but she didn’t have the energy to ask why.

  “I think so,” she admitted feebly, before her lips pressed together as a fresh bout of pain surged through her. He moved away, and she felt the gentle touch of his fingers on her abdomen. Liam quickly checked her wounds and emitted a low whistle.

  “Daniel wasn’t kidding about your healing ability.” The smaller wounds in her arms and leg were completely closed over and, while it was still a crusted, blistering mess, the burn on her abdomen was already showing signs of improvement.

  “I imagine the internal damage is repairing itself just as quickly?” he asked, speaking almost as if to himself. Confusion etched across his brow as he seemed to ponder something and then he muttered, under his breath, “I wonder why Isaiah didn’t...”

  “Heart,” Quinn replied through gritted teeth. “Charlotte drove the sword through his heart.”

  “Right,” Liam nodded, soberly.

  “Where’s Monique?” Quinn vaguely remembered that the dragon had landed just seconds before she blacked out.

  “I’m here,” Monique’s voice was more subdued than normal, but, when she appeared beside Quinn, she looked as merry as ever, if a little pale. She was also wearing Liam’s shirt. Spotting the black strips of cloth tied around her arms, it dawned on Quinn why. It also explained why Liam was bare-chested.

  “Are you okay?” Quinn asked, seeing straight through Monique’s sunny disposition.

  “Fine,” Monique held up her hand, which was bandaged in the remnants of her torn shirt. “I burnt my hand.”

  “On what?” Quinn asked and then coughed violently.

  “Rest,” Liam ordered, pressing her firmly back down. “We’ll explain later.”

  Accepting his instruction, Quinn nodded, her eyes closing of their own accord. In her last wakeful moments she thought only of Drake. She was asleep within minutes but her mind remained connected to his even while she slumbered.

  Chapter 19

  Drake didn’t have time to waste. He and Braddon needed to get on the road but Daniel wasn’t letting them go without an explanation.

  “What do you mean you’re bonded with Quinn?” Daniel asked. Drake sensed that his question had less to do with the bond itself and more to do with exactly how it had come about. Daniel’s face was becoming paler, slowly draining of colour and worse, his hands shook slightly at his sides. Drake had never seen the Guardian’s steely facade slip before now. Something had shaken him to his very core. The others had gathered around them, drawn by the raised voices, but they were too focused on Drake to notice Daniel’s behaviour. The news of the bond had travelled quickly through the farm and it seemed that everyone now knew about it.

  “Quinn gave me her blood,” Drake explained.

  “She couldn’t have,” Daniel’s answer was so instantaneous, so sharply spoken, that Drake suspected he had it ready on his lips the moment Drake had mentioned the bond. “Her blood would kill you,” Daniel concluded, sounding more confident.

  “She didn’t give me her blood as the Slayer. It happened before... at Lenora’s house. And you should know she only did it to save me.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Daniel interrupted. He shook his head vehemently and Drake could see how desperately he was clinging to what he knew. “No Hunter would offer a vampire her blood. You must have bitten her without her consent.” At that, Drake’s anger flared. The implication that he had hurt Quinn or had fed from her against her will was a low blow, but, before he could react, Avery stepped forward.

  “It’s true,” she admitted, almost reluctantly. “I saw it with my own eyes. Quinn made the decision. It was her call. If anything, he tried to stop her.”

  “It can’t be true,” Daniel insisted. His eyes darted left to right, as though he was trying to figure something out. Drake itched to get moving. Quinn needed him and he didn’t have time for Daniel’s riddles. Braddon seemed to be thinking the same thing, because he spoke up, a note of finality in his voice.

  “It has to be true, Daniel. How else would he know that Quinn is alive?”

  “We don’t know that for sure...” Daniel stopped mid-sentence as his phone rang.

  “Liam?” he barked, snatching it up. He listened for a minute and then hung up the phone without a word.

  Drake’s supernatural hearing had picked up what the others couldn’t hear. Liam had confirmed that Quinn was indeed alive. He fought a smug smile, glaring at Daniel with a look that plainly said ‘I told you so’, but his gratification was short-lived. As he watched, Daniel faltered, stumbling backward and landing heavily on the chair behind him. He was so lost in thought that the others couldn’t get through to him for a full minute.

  “Do you know what this means?’ he whispered eventually, gazing up at Braddon. His eyes blazed, glowing with something Drake couldn’t quite put his finger on. Fear, anger and a glimmer of something that Drake didn’t expect - hope. “She knew,” Daniel gave a humourless laugh. “When I told her about the prophecy - about the bond - she knew she was the one.”

  “Daniel, what’s going on?” If Braddon expected an answer he was disappointed.

  “Let’s just go,” Drake seized his opportunity. ‘If we leave now, we can make it there in...”

  “We’re coming with you,” Daniel announced, louder now, as he rose from the chair. “Piper and Austin, I need your crystals. You’re staying behind to guard the wards.”

  “What?” Austin disagreed. “No way! I’m coming too.”

  “You’re staying,” Daniel corrected. “You know this farm better than anyone and the wards are still our top priority. Kellan,” he turned to the faery, standing tall behind Austin, “you’ll know when the Gateway is opened.” Kellan nodded. When the Rose Gate was opened, all the Fae magic would return. “That’s when you come,” Daniel confirmed and Kellan nodded sagely. “Everyone else be ready to go in ten minutes.”

  The crowd dispersed, the Guardians moving quickly while everyone else got out of their way.

  “Daniel,” Braddon stepped forward. “You need to speak to Quinn before you do this. She said she would send for us. Drake and I will go and check she’s okay but she told you to wait for her instructions.”

  “Quinn doesn’t need to send fo
r us,” Daniel replied. “The bond,” he gestured at Drake, without malice or anger. Instead, for the first time he looked at Drake with something akin to respect. “The bond is the signal. It’s part of the prophecy.”

  “What are you talking about? What prophecy?” Braddon asked. Drake was wondering the same thing and he watched as Daniel’s discomfort grew. Coming to a decision, he faced them.

  “I guess there’s no point in keeping it from you anymore. The Sacred Book was transcribed from Eldon’s original scrolls, as you know,” Daniel began, “but the original twelve Guardians opted to omit certain things. Things that we felt might be dangerous for future Guardians, who hadn’t been around from the beginning, to know.”

  “You what? How could you Daniel? That information belonged to all of us! You had no right!”

  “We did what we thought was best,” Daniel brushed off the accusation. “Whether we were right or wrong is no longer relevant. What matters now is that the prophecy has been fulfilled.”

  “What do you mean, it’s been fulfilled? What is this prophecy?”

  “Eldon spoke of a ‘chosen one’ – a Guardian woman who would change everything. Supposedly this Guardian would bring about the end of the war. But it also warned that she would be torn between two sides. Between our people and the vampires,” Daniel added unnecessarily.

  “What does this have to do with Quinn?” Braddon asked.

  “Quinn is the chosen one.”

  “How could you possibly know that?”

  “Because the second part of the prophecy proves it,” Daniel’s voice was hypnotic, “the chosen one would be bonded to a vampire.”

  Everyone fell silent at this announcement. Only a handful of the people gathered around understood the enormity of this statement and what it meant. Drake closed his eyes, briefly. There was no denying the fact that Quinn was the Guardian referred to in the prophecy. He’d always known she was special – that didn’t surprise him – but his fear grew as he considered the second part of the prophecy, that she would have to make a choice, that the fate of the wards she protected so fiercely lay squarely and solely on her shoulders. And, from the sound of it, he was a huge part of the reason she was in this predicament in the first place. Her choice would involve him. He should never have taken her blood. If he hadn’t, the bond would never exist and the prophecy wouldn’t have been fulfilled, or if it had been, it wouldn’t have been Quinn who was chosen.