Garrick glanced at him. “You think that’s a good idea?”
“It’s not to see Eve,” he lied. “We’ve a lot of guns in the warehouse. I want to see about moving them out. I don’t want Sorley getting any ideas.”
His cousin grunted. “All right. Who’s going?”
“You and me.”
“Adorjan is not going to like that. They already tried to kill you once down there, and he doesn’t trust your girlfriend, either.”
“She’s not my girlfriend. As for Adorjan, I don’t give a fuck what he likes. It’s Saturday night. I want some blood, and I want to fuck, and I don’t want him looming over me like a giant gargoyle.”
“As you say, my lord.”
Quinn didn’t realize he’d let his power swell along with his irritation until he heard that dutiful response. He pulled back his power, angry with himself for letting it get out of control like some new-made vamp.
Garrick shot him a careful look. “I’ll have a talk with Adorjan.”
Quinn had to bite back the urge to “hmpf” like a disgruntled old man. Even if he was one.
“WELL? DID THEY handle it?” Sorley glared at the kneeling human he’d sent to spy on Quinn’s supposed negotiation with the human gang. He’d have rather sent one of his vampires, but Quinn would have spotted a vamp without even trying.
“The meeting was . . .”
Sorley’s attention snapped to his spy, drawn by the man’s reluctance. What the fuck? “Well?” he demanded. “Speak up, you idiot.”
“I wasn’t in the room, my lord. But Neville and Quinn appeared more as allies than enemies by the end, and Quinn left the meeting unscathed. I was told by more than one reliable source that they’ve reached an accommodation.”
Sorley stared at the trembling human. “Get out.” The man scrambled to his feet and scurried from the room, as if expecting to be shot in the back. Not that Sorley would need a damn gun to kill a puny human rabbit. In this case, however, the rabbit was safe. The man was dependable, even if he didn’t always deliver the news Sorley wanted to hear. If he was going to kill anyone, it would be that bastard Neville. The human gang leader had agreed to their plan to kill Quinn, so what the fuck had happened? What could Quinn possibly have offered him that Sorley couldn’t? The damn American was fresh off the boat, and he’d done nothing but cause trouble. First with the guns in Howth and now the drugs through Dublin Port, which were far more profitable.
And what the fuck was he doing in Ireland, anyway? It was that stupid bitch Mathilde’s fault. She’d started all this with her ill-conceived plan to take out Raphael. Raphael! She couldn’t have started with someone she actually had a chance in hell of killing? And then, instead of learning from her mistake, her European friends had followed in her bloody footsteps. They’d gone and riled up every vampire in North America, and now Ireland had to pay for their fuck-ups, even though he’d had nothing to do with their stupid invasion.
Sorley watched his human spy slip through the barely opened door. He could still kill the bastard. He thought about it. But, no. The rabbit wasn’t the one he wanted dead. It was time to get serious.
“Get Kelan in here,” he told Lorcan.
His lieutenant gave him a sharp look along with a bow, then strode out of the room. Some communications were too sensitive for anything but face-to-face contact.
Sorley acknowledged, to himself, that he may have underestimated Quinn. Oh, he’d recognized his power easily enough, but he hadn’t thought the uptight bastard had the balls to use it. Turned out he was wrong. That buttoned-up exterior of Quinn’s was hiding the gut instincts of a real killer. He might have admired the asshole if he didn’t hate him. Or if Quinn hadn’t been trying to steal everything Sorley had worked so hard for. There could be only one response to that. It was time for Quinn to die.
Chapter Ten
Howth, Ireland
THE WAREHOUSE looked empty and unused when Quinn and his two bodyguards arrived the next night. Yes, two bodyguards. Both Garrick and Adorjan had insisted on accompanying him.
He sighed, while thinking that at least the unused appearance of the warehouse was a good sign. You couldn’t tell it from the outside, but a vestibule had been added to the warehouse entrance as a security measure. There were now two doors, one three feet behind the other. In order to open the interior door the outer door had to be shut. It limited the number of people who could enter at once, and also provided a few minutes’ advance warning of a potential intruder. It wasn’t much, but a few minutes was all a vampire needed.
Quinn was aware that a new shipment of guns had arrived in the wee hours of the previous night. Casey had met the boat and discussed the new arrangements with its captain. The man hadn’t cared who took the guns or what they did with them, as long as he got paid and was left alive to spend it.
That was all good. But regardless of what Quinn had told Garrick, he wasn’t in Howth to check on the warehouse or the guns. Casey could handle the damn smuggling operation. He was here for Eve. There’d been no more random shootings of vampires, at least none he was aware of. So, he assumed she’d been telling the truth when she’d claimed to be reassessing the morality of her killing spree. But he was honest enough to admit that her vampire hunts were only part of why he wanted to see her. He missed her. She was a pain in his ass and a danger to his people, and he missed her. Not just to fuck, although thinking about her lying beneath him, with his cock buried in her slick pussy, those little moans she made before she climaxed, her frustrated cries when he slowed down, withholding her orgasm until she begged so prettily. . . .
Fuck. He was hard as a rock. He jerked open the Range Rover’s door and stepped outside, easing the pressure on his cock while he shoved thoughts of Eve’s silky body out of his mind. He was usually better than this. Always in control. But something about Eve had thrown him off from the very beginning. It was a damn good reason to walk away from her. As long as she stopped killing, he could leave her behind and get on with the business that had brought him to Ireland. Right? He sighed.
“My lord?”
Adorjan’s deep voice interrupted his personal motivation speech. “Yeah. Sorry. Thinking about something else. Let’s go.”
He ignored Garrick’s knowing glance and started for the warehouse, automatically scanning ahead. There were only four vampires inside, which wasn’t unexpected, and yet . . . something was wrong. He couldn’t put words to what he was feeling, but alarms were going off in the part of his brain that had come alive ever since he’d awakened as one of those rare vampires with true power. He considered his options in the instant between one step and the next. He should warn Adorjan and Garrick. But they’d insist on wrapping him in cotton batting and stowing him safely in the Range Rover while they dealt with the danger. They kept forgetting that he was the vampire lord, the baddest of the badasses, not some fragile egghead good only for sitting behind a desk and thinking about shit. Christ, if he’d wanted to sit behind a desk, he’d still be a lawyer.
Besides, if he couldn’t fuck Eve, then he’d just as soon beat the shit out of whichever vampires had taken over his warehouse and now, apparently, thought to ambush him. He’d made his point in Dublin, when he’d destroyed Lon Conover and made Conover’s people his own. And he’d made it again with the human gang leader, Ennis Neville, stealing the port gang away from Sorley and making them his own, too. But he clearly hadn’t done enough here in Howth. That had to change.
Quinn entered the code on the outer door’s new keypad lock and shoved the door open, ignoring Adorjan’s hurried protest when he came up behind him. Quinn turned with a wink. “Sorry, one person at a time.” The outer door closed, and he took a moment to do a deeper scan, wanting to know more about the four vampires inside and, specifically, what the hell had happened to Casey. The vamp had been part of the planning for this Irish venture from the begi
nning, but Quinn had only been in his head once. That was when they’d first met, and he’d needed to make sure that Casey wasn’t a spy from Sorley or anyone else. He’d done the same mental scan on every member of the team. But he didn’t know if that was enough to recognize the vamp now. On the other hand, Casey had sworn a blood oath to Quinn just as the others had, which would make it much easier to pinpoint his location and well-being.
These thoughts passed through his head in a matter of seconds, the time it took for the outer door to close and his fingers to input the distinct code on the inner keypad. He couldn’t afford to stand in the vestibule and contemplate the problem. Whoever was waiting would only become suspicious and make Quinn’s job more difficult.
He touched on each of the four vamps inside. One was deeper into the warehouse, his presence muted as if in sleep. Casey, he realized. Either injured, unconscious, or both. Two others were very much awake, their thoughts a jumble of determination and being scared out of their minds. Yeah, Quinn could take his time with them. But it was the fourth vampire, the one lurking just inside and to the right, a position that would put him behind the door as Quinn entered. His mind was clear as a bell, cool and confident. This was a vampire accustomed to killing.
Sorley had apparently decided he didn’t like Quinn’s deal with Neville, after all.
He tapped the final number on the keypad and walked through, shoving the door hard to the right. The waiting assassin was far too skilled for that little trick. He stepped out from behind the door and placed a gun to Quinn’s head, but before he could pull the trigger, every nerve in his arm went dead. Quinn spun, grabbed the gun with one hand, catching it before it could hit the floor. With his other hand, he sank his fingers into the vampire’s throat and lifted him from the ground.
“A gun, asshole? Does no one in this town understand what it means to be Vampire?”
The assassin made a gurgling noise, which Quinn ignored, focusing instead on the buzz of the door opening behind him.
“What the fuck?” Adorjan roared and would have snatched the assassin from Quinn’s fingertips.
“Stop,” Quinn snarled. “This one’s mine. You get the others. Garrick,” he said, as his cousin rushed inside. “Check on Casey. He’s in the back.”
“As for you,” he said to the would-be assassin, “you’re going to tell me everything you know.”
“I will not betray—” The vampire’s words were cut off as he screamed in agony.
“Of course, you will. It’s only a matter of how much pain you’ll have to endure in the meantime.” Quinn squeezed his fingers tighter, displacing divots of flesh. “Feel free to hang tough, by the way. I’m in a crappy mood, and this is incredibly therapeutic.”
The vamp stared at him. “You’re insane,” he managed to whisper.
Quinn frowned. “Hey, I wasn’t the one lurking behind the door with a gun, asshole.”
Adorjan emerged from behind some of the stacked weapons’ boxes, dragging the limp bodies of the two vampires Quinn had sensed hiding earlier. “These two were both at the meeting the other night and swore loyalty to you. They admitted to betraying their oaths, but insisted they had no choice and beg for mercy.” He glanced down at them. “I got tired of their begging,” he said, which explained their unconscious state.
Quinn met Adorjan’s gaze and nodded grimly. He’d warned them. There was only one punishment for betrayal in vampire society, and that was death.
Adorjan dropped the two unconscious vamps to the floor, then walked over and broke apart a wooden chair, snapping off two of its legs and leaving the rest. He then came back to the unconscious vampires and, without ceremony, slammed a leg into each of their hearts, one after the other. The two vampires dusted in an instant. They’d made the wrong decision, and they’d paid.
Quinn didn’t give them another thought. “What about Casey?”
“Garrick’s with him. He took a bullet to the head.” The big vampire’s gaze slid sideways to glare at Quinn’s prisoner. “That one likes guns.”
“Is Casey all right?”
“He will be.” Adorjan grinned. “He’s got a hard head.”
“Secure the doors. I’m going to question our gunslinger, and I don’t want any interruptions.”
QUINN’S MOOD WASN’T much better when they left the warehouse just over an hour later. The assassin had cracked far too easily. Apparently, his usefulness as an assassin had less to do with vampiric power, and more to do with his very human skills with weapons and skulking about. He’d been a hired killer with the Russian mob before he’d been made a vampire. Sorley had met him somewhere in Europe, decided a professional killer would be a useful tool, and turned him the same night. No questions had been asked or permission sought, though the Russian hadn’t minded all that much. He’d happily fallen in with Sorley’s plan to take over Ireland, and become his number one assassin. The situation had worked great for both of them until Sorley had made the mistake of sending his pet killer after Quinn. The Irish lord had to know how powerful Quinn was. He wouldn’t have been threatened enough to kill him otherwise. But he’d clearly underestimated Quinn’s fondness for violence, mistaking his law degree for a preference for following rules. What he didn’t understand was that the only rules Quinn had to follow anymore were the ones of his own making. And any vampire who tried to kill him or his was fair game. Death was a certainty. The only question was how much he’d suffer first.
The answer was not much. Sorley’s pet killer was a classic bully. He loved hurting others, but had a terrible fear of his own pain. He’d caved like a snowball on a sunny day, every secret he owned spilling out so fast, it was hard to keep up with him. You’d have thought a coward like that would welcome death, but it seemed death was even more terrifying to him than pain.
Whatever. Quinn didn’t care. He’d squeezed everything there was to be had from the vampire and then executed him with the third leg of Adorjan’s chair. He could have ripped the assassin’s heart out, but he didn’t want to get that bloody. Too much clean up, and there wasn’t even a shower in the building.
After they locked the warehouse, Adorjan took Casey back to the Howth house, while Quinn and Garrick left the Range Rover where it was and headed to their favorite pub. Quinn didn’t mind the down time, but more than anything, he needed blood. He was using a lot more energy than usual lately, and it had been nearly a week since he’d fed from the sweet, little brunette at this same pub. Maybe she’d be around again tonight. It would make things easier. He could avoid all the foreplay involved with a new woman—making it clear what he wanted, making certain it was what she wanted. He wouldn’t mind going right to the biting and fucking part of the night. He hadn’t actually fucked the brunette last time, because Eve had been in the picture, but the brunette had certainly been willing and probably would be again. If not, he’d find someone else. Attracting women had never been a problem for him, whether human or vampire.
Quinn knew Garrick was feeling protective after the assassination attempt, but he wasn’t in the mood to be babysat. He’d just have to make sure his cousin was distracted. The pub was as packed as he’d expect for a Saturday night, the inside so full that the crowd spilled out into the patio, and beyond that, onto the dock itself. Some of those revelers seemed in real danger of taking a dip in the icy waters of the harbor, but that wasn’t his concern.
He could barely move through the mass of people as he headed inside. Crowds like this had a certain dynamic, a living energy that he could feed from almost like blood. But he didn’t have the patience for that tonight. He wanted the real thing. Hot, sweet, and silky, right from the vein. Using just a touch of his power, he cleared a path, the mostly happy humans making room for him without even realizing they were doing it. More than one female cast a welcome glance his way as he moved deeper into the pub, but he could feel Garrick at his shoulder, his protective s
cowl practically cock-blocking him with every step.
Fortunately, Garrick was hungry, too. Even more fortunately, he had a type, and Quinn knew what it was. He searched as they maneuvered through the crowd, until he found the right female. Blond and willowy, with average breasts and a lost look in her big eyes that said she didn’t do a lot of pub crawling. The look of a woman who needed saving. Perfect.
Quinn knew he shouldn’t do it, but sometimes the end justified the means. Or so he told himself. He reached for the woman’s mind and, using the gentlest of touches, steered her attention toward Garrick. His cousin had no more trouble than Quinn attracting women, so once the blonde’s attention was focused on Garrick, it took no more interference from Quinn to get her moving in their direction. A slight bump of his shoulder sent Garrick stumbling into the woman at the right moment. A blush on her pale cheeks, a startled look from those Bambi eyes, and Garrick’s arm slid protectively around her waist.
Quinn grinned. “Looks like love,” he said in his cousin’s ear.
Garrick shot him a matching grin, then frowned. “I should—”
“Don’t be daft,” Quinn said, cutting him off. “I’m heading for the shadows and a bite. I’ll be perfectly safe while you rescue yon maiden.”
Garrick shot the blonde a lustful look, then back at Quinn. “If you’re sure.”
“Go.”
He was almost insulted at how quickly his cousin disappeared into the crowd. Maybe he hadn’t had to work so hard to set him up, after all. But he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. Doing as he’d said he would, he pushed through into the unlit depths in the back of the pub. This place was the closest Howth had to a blood house. The smell of blood and sex was blatant to his vampire senses. And if that wasn’t enough, the soft cries of ecstasy, punctuated by the occasional deep growl of conquest, made it perfectly clear what was happening. Quinn sharpened his gaze, and his vampire-enhanced sight pierced the shadows. Not all of the fucking going on involved vampires. Some of the human locals were taking advantage of the darkness to do some fucking of their own. Quinn’s mouth twitched in amusement, as he searched for his brunette, finally finding her in a small group of women, all of whom seemed to know each other, if their lively conversation was anything to go by. His girl was on the quiet side, but not a wallflower. She smiled and laughed, and made the occasional comment, but mostly seemed simply to enjoy being there.
Quinn (Vampires in America: The Vampire Wars Book 12) Page 25
