Guardians of Summerfeld: Full Series: Books 1-4

by Melissa Delport

  While she gaped at the miracle standing before her, Quinn was vaguely aware that the light from the other side of the Rose Gate was fading. The Temple had vanished the second its inhabitants had crossed into Summerfeld territory. The Rose Temple had been a magical realm but, once opened, it dissolved, leaving behind a gate to nowhere. A simple, physical barrier in the middle of the draughty Cathedral. A reminder of what they had achieved.

  “Loyal Guardians,” Wintyr announced, sweeping his arms out to encompass them all. His voice was deeper than Quinn expected, but it resonated with power and the royal blood that ran through his veins. “We owe you a great service for releasing us.” Nobody spoke, spellbound by the sight before them. “I also feel we owe you an explanation,” Wintyr continued, taking Enah’s tiny hand in his own. “My sister lives, as you can see. Forgive us for keeping this from you but my father’s guilt would not allow him to admit that he had spared her life after everything he had done.” Enah’s pale face seemed to drain of what little colour it had at his words and she cast her eyes downward, as though ashamed of her own survival. Wintyr smiled reassuringly down at her, his love for his sister clear to everyone who witnessed it.

  “I feel as though I know you all personally,” Wintyr continued. “My father’s magic allowed us to sense our protectors, to know them as well as we could from within the confines of the temple. Quinn,” he added, and she gave a start of surprise at being singled out. “I believe my father would have approved of you,” Wintyr smiled graciously.

  “Thank you, your Grace,” Quinn bowed her head and the Cathedral fell silent.

  “This is a blessing of the highest order,” Daniel said finally, breaking the Guardians’ silence. “It is an honour to meet you, my Princes. And to see you, your Highness,” he added, addressing Enah directly, “is a miracle. You cannot know how it pleases us to find you alive and well.”

  When Enah spoke, her voice reminded Quinn of crystal and birdsong. “Alive perhaps, Daniel,” she murmured, surprising them all by calling him by name, “but not well. Never well, never again.” Her words were cryptic, but before Quinn could give them any further thought, Drake’s voice sounded in her head. She had all but forgotten he was here.

  I’m sorry, he said, I wanted to tell you.

  There was such regret in his voice. Tearing her eyes from the Fae royals, Quinn cast a glance over her shoulder. Drake stood a few yards back, between Avery and Kellan, a disgusted expression on his face. He was the only person in the room who had remained standing, refusing to kneel before Wintyr and Quinn had an awful premonition that he shouldn’t be here. What if she had made a mistake trusting him? What if he couldn’t control himself and tried to hurt them? Drake held her gaze for a long moment, as his words echoed in her mind.

  You wanted to tell me what? Quinn asked, but she was too late. Without answering her unspoken question, Drake strode forward, throwing Quinn into turmoil. Was this the choice the prophecy had spoken of? Would he attack them and force Quinn to choose between him and the Fae royalty? Before she could even fathom who she would choose, Drake spoke, his voice confident and accusatory.

  “Why?” he asked boldly. All eyes were on him as he came face to face with Enah. She was so tiny that their eyes were on the same level even though he stood a few steps below her. “Why are you not well, Princess?” he sneered hatefully. The Guardians around Quinn made a move toward him, fearing for Enah’s safety, but Wintyr raised his arm, signalling them to stay where they were.

  Enah’s hand lifted to her heart, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief. Her eyes. Comprehension dawned on Quinn in a flash as she recognised Enah’s eyes - the spitting image of Drake’s - and his words came back to her in a rush.

  “You’re telling me you were in love with a Fae woman?”

  “I didn’t say that. I said that a Fae woman loved me.”

  Enah. Enah had loved Drake and she had given him the power to walk in the sun. She had imparted her magic upon him and, in so doing, had mirrored herself. Drake was Julian, after all. Quinn’s vision swam and she dropped to her knees. She finally understood how someone could die of a broken heart. She thought the pain would kill her and then prayed that it would, because Drake was well and truly lost to her. She hadn’t even known his real name.

  “Julian!” The word burst from her lips in a gasp of betrayal.

  “No!” The denial was louder than anything she had heard yet and Quinn lifted her head, tears of desolation spilling down her cheeks, to find Drake staring at her with a mixture of concern and regret. “No,” he murmured more gently, moving away from Enah to come toward her. Quinn felt the pain of the bond explode in her head, on top of the agony of learning the truth, and she held up a restraining hand, pleading with him not to come any closer. “It’s not what you think,” he whispered, lifting his hand and curling his fingers one by one in a graceful motion. To her astonishment, Quinn felt a breeze lift her hair, drying the tears on her cheeks.

  “How...?” Quinn choked on the question. Drake had just used magic, magic that belonged only to the Fae.

  “I’m not Julian,” Drake insisted, his eyes haunted. “My name is Drake Fairchild Mortaine and Enah is not my wife. She’s my mother.”

  Chapter 32

  Every single person in the room stood stunned, unable to move or speak, but for Quinn, Drake’s revelation was too much. Compounded with the pain of the bond, her body simply shut itself down in an attempt to protect her and she collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

  Daniel, like the rest of the Guardians and the Fae gathered around, understood the implications of Drake’s words. Fairchild was the family name of Eldon’s bloodline. Mortaine was Aleksei’s. Drake was Enah and Julian’s son, which made him part-vampire, part-Fae. It explained why he had always seemed such an enigma – why Daniel had never been able to really understand him. Drake couldn’t be boxed, because he belonged nowhere. In a rush, the memory of the first time he had ever laid eyes on Drake came back to him. It was the same night Daniel had killed Charlotte in an attempt to kill Drake. Drake had cradled Charlotte’s dying body in his arms and Daniel had lifted his stake, prepared to finish him off. Then Drake had lifted his head and his green eyes had met Daniel’s and, despite his rage over Emily, and his fury that Isaiah had become the Slayer, Daniel had not been able to bring himself to kill Drake. Now, after all these years, he understood why. Drake’s Fae blood demanded the Guardians’ protection, just as his vampire blood cried out for their vengeance. A shudder ran through Daniel as he realised how close he had come to murdering Eldon’s grandchild. But what had Drake been doing in man’s realm in the first place? Why hadn’t he been sealed inside the Temple with the rest of Eldon’s heirs? Daniel had a sickening feeling that the answers to these questions would explain why Drake had renounced his Fae side, and why he had so fully embraced his vampirism.

  All of this streamed through Daniel’s mind in the miniscule space of time it took for Quinn’s body to hit the ground. Braddon gave a yell of warning and Avery darted forward, but Drake was quicker than both of them. In a flash he was at Quinn’s side, lifting her gently off the floor and cradling her to his chest, reminding Daniel again of that night with Charlotte. Drake’s strength and brutality were vampire traits, but his compassion was undoubtedly Fae. He seemed relieved to be able to hold Quinn without it causing either of them pain. Quinn’s mind must have shut off when she blacked out and Drake carried her quickly over to where Enah stood. Braddon followed close behind, his concern for his daughter outweighing his veneration for the Fae royalty.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Braddon asked, feeling Quinn’s pulse.

  “This woman and I are bonded,” Drake announced, gazing up at Wintyr. Daniel noticed that he would not meet his mother’s eyes, appealing only to her brother, to the new king. Technically, Wintyr had become king of the Fae the moment that Eldon had died, but, as he had been inside the Rose Temple when it happened, his role had never been formalised. Drake was still sp
eaking. “The bond causes us both a great deal of pain,” he admitted.

  “How can you even bear to be in the same room together?” Enah asked, knowing full well the true agony of the bond.

  Drake simply refused to acknowledge her. “Can you remove it?” he asked of Wintyr.

  “Why haven’t you?” Wintyr asked, his brow furrowing in alarm. “My father left instructions. You had the Book, didn’t you?” He looked around in confusion, his eyes finally coming to rest on Daniel.

  Daniel felt every eye in the room come to rest on him and, for the first time, he felt anger at Isaiah for dying and leaving him to explain alone. They had made many decisions together but it seemed Daniel would be the only one apologising for any of them.

  “This is my fault,” Daniel interjected, stepping forward. “I’m sorry,” he added, turning to Drake. “I should have told you sooner, but, to be fair, I only discovered the bond’s existence very recently.”

  “You should have told me what?” Drake’s voice was dangerously low.

  “The bond can be broken. The scrolls gave instructions.”

  “The scrolls that you and Isaiah decided to filter?” Braddon’s anger was palpable but Daniel focused on Drake.

  “How?” he insisted, obviously caring for little else than Quinn right now, for which Daniel was grateful.

  “The same way it was formed. Through the transfer of blood.”

  “Quinn is the Slayer,” Drake snarled, “and I’m a vampire,” Daniel noticed how Enah flinched at the conviction in his words, “her blood will kill me.”

  “Quinn’s blood forged the bond,” Daniel corrected, “your blood will undo it.”

  “My blood...” Drake trailed off, comprehension dawning. It made perfect sense. How could they have been so stupid? Shaking Quinn gently, he felt her mind stir and a dull ache slowly increased in his head as she regained consciousness. “Quinn,” he muttered into her hair, “wake up.”

  Quinn’s eyes fluttered open and she immediately clapped her hands to her head, writhing in his arms as the full force of the bond hit her like a dagger to the temples. Drake didn’t hesitate, extending his fangs and tearing the soft flesh at his wrist so that his blood flowed from the wound. You have to trust me, he thought, focusing all his energy on making her understand. Drink. Lowering his wrist to her mouth, it took all his strength to hold her still as she thrashed against his arm, protesting against what he was trying to make her do. It will break the bond, he thought savagely, forcing his words into her anarchic mind.

  Braddon had lent his own strength, forcing Quinn’s shoulders down, but in the instant that she registered the meaning of Drake’s words, she stopped thrashing. Drake was vaguely aware that Braddon averted his gaze as she pressed her lips to his wrist, gagging as she tried to swallow the warm blood that pooled in her mouth, but in this moment he didn’t care much for Quinn’s father’s disapproval. She was the only thing that mattered to him. Breaking the bond had been his single-minded purpose ever since the day she had confessed her feelings for him. It had been the only thing keeping them apart. Drake kept his eyes locked on Quinn’s as the bond fell away, and they both sagged in relief, a sheen of sweat gleaming on Quinn’s forehead as the pain ebbed. Infinitely slowly, Drake felt the bond disappear, until his mind was whole again and utterly his own. He felt the smallest twinge of regret for the privacy and intimacy the bond had offered, but holding her in his arms without pain was worth losing his link with her. A trace of blood glistened on her lips and Drake wiped it gently away, his eyes searching her face.

  Quinn couldn’t look away, even though she wanted to. The pain in her head had eased, but the revelation of who Drake really was had made her numb. She couldn’t figure out how she felt about it and yet the only thing that seemed real to her in this moment was his eyes suspended above her. She sensed he was trying to tell her something, to beg her to stay with him and to trust him, but without the bond there was no way to know for sure what message shone in those green eyes.

  “Drake,” Enah’s voice intruded on the private moment and Drake turned to face his mother, the soft expression with which he had gazed at Quinn hardening into a terrifying coldness. Lowering Quinn’s head gently to the floor he disengaged himself and got to his feet. Quinn fought the urge to pull him back, feeling a cold unfriendly emptiness in his absence. “You are not only a vampire,” Enah insisted.

  “Really?” Drake drawled insolently.

  “Really,” Enah said, matching his fire with a bit of her own. “You are also part-Fae.”

  Quinn had pulled herself into a sitting position but she could do no more than watch, mesmerised, as she tried to make sense of it all. Enah’s words reminded her that she had never been able to sense Drake as quickly as other vampires. Even the night she had first met him at Phil’s Place, which suddenly seemed like a lifetime ago. He had snuck up on her without warning and Quinn had wondered if her Guardian instincts were fading because she had spent so much time outside of Summerfeld. It must have been his Fae blood that masked him. The same blood that allowed him to walk in the sun. He was born with the gift, passed on to him by his mother and possibly his father, who was the only other vampire to have been immune to sunlight. It also struck her that if Drake was truly Enah and Julian’s son, he was over a thousand years old. It was no wonder he was so powerful. The Fae did age, but infinitely slowly, which is why he had aged despite being a vampire since birth.

  Drake’s eyes were narrowed as he glared at Enah. “I said goodbye to that part of myself a long time ago,” he replied cruelly. Enah blanched, the little colour left in her cheeks draining away.

  “Wait,” Quinn got to her feet, “you mean you knew? All this time... you knew you were part faery?”

  “I am a vampire,” Drake corrected, with utter conviction. “But yes, I knew who my mother was. Of course I knew. Lucian taught me just like Isaiah taught you. In fact, he probably taught me better. He certainly didn’t encourage bloodshed.” The words were cruel but Quinn sensed they served more to protect Lucian than to insult Isaiah. Nevertheless, Drake seemed to realise how it sounded and he continued far more gently. “I know your history better than you do, Quinn, although the bond was certainly not included in my education or I would’ve broken it that night in your room.”

  Quinn was too shocked to blush. “But you never said anything! How could you not tell me something so important?”

  Drake didn’t look in the least bit remorseful. In fact, he looked almost smug. “Firstly, I was going to tell you today,” he said.

  “Oh, how convenient! Better late than never, right?”

  “You know what?” he retorted sharply, reacting to her sarcasm. “I’m glad I didn’t tell you, Quinn. As far as you’re concerned, I’m thankful I didn’t tell you. If I had, how would I ever have known for sure that your feelings for me were real? That they weren’t just an extension of your blasted Guardian charm and your blind love for all things Fae? Instead, you loved me as a vampire, as an enemy. I know that it’s real and I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

  Quinn opened her mouth and then closed it again. The way he spoke to her was as though there was no one else in the room, but in truth they were surrounded by people and Drake had just basically told everyone that she was in love with him. She cringed when she realised he had just told his mother she was in love with him, which seemed a pretty petty thing to be worried about at this point, but there it was.

  “Secondly,” Drake continued, and she suspected from his tone that this second reason wouldn’t be quite as romantic as the first. “Why would I?” He opened his arms to emphasise his question. “Why would I want to admit who I was? The unwanted son of an unholy union... it’s hardly something to boast about.”

  At this, Enah interrupted, unable to contain herself a moment longer. “You were never unwanted!” she cried, her youthful face crumpling. “Never! All these years, I’ve thought of nothing else!”

  Quinn sensed the Fae around her shifting in sil
ent sympathy. Kellan and Freya, in particular, could relate, given that they had a child of their own. Drake, however, was unmoved.

  “And yet I was abandoned in man’s realm while you were safely tucked up in the temple,” he mocked. Quinn wondered for a second how he dared address her so disrespectfully. Then she remembered that while Enah was her Princess, she was Drake’s mother. The rules didn’t apply to him. It was the same reason she could speak to Braddon as she did, despite him being a much older Guardian. Children didn’t have to worship their parents, no matter what their social standing was.

  “My father didn’t offer Enah a choice,” Wintyr explained gently. “He imprisoned her against her will and he left you in the care of his most trusted advisor. Lucian was to raise you as his own. It was the condition of allowing you to live.”

  “Don’t you dare mention that name!” Drake hissed. “Eldon didn’t give a damn about Lucian!”

  Quinn heard Freya’s gasp behind her and she shook her head, trying to place the name.

  “You told me about Lucian,” she announced, as the memory came back to her. “You said he was Eldon’s friend?”

  “Yes,” Freya nodded, her aquamarine eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “Evangeline told me that she and Lucian were Eldon’s most trusted advisors.” Quinn felt the hair on her neck stand on end. Eldon had trusted Evangeline with the magic that would save Summerfeld and he had entrusted his grandchild to Lucian. A child that no one else knew existed. “You are one of us, Drake,” Freya continued bravely. “Evangeline knew it. That’s why she spoke to you at the wedding. She knew all along, didn’t she?”