Her stomach turned, her blood pumping faster through her body as her anger was roused. Sebastian could hear the increased beating of her heart, obviously, and mistaking it for arousal; he probed deeper into her mouth with his tongue. Quinn was vaguely aware that, if Sebastian was anything to judge by, vampires were excellent kissers - it was no wonder humans were so intoxicated by them. But Quinn was no ordinary human and she was repulsed. Pulling back, she raised her hand to her mouth, her violet eyes wide. Sebastian smirked, taking her hand and leading her to the front door.
“Let’s go inside,” he ran his hand down her cheek and neck, across her collar-bone and then still lower. Quinn sensed the persuasion radiating off him. She had no choice, she could not let him in and he would know, immediately, when she denied him entry, what she was. Smiling up at him, she pulled his head down to hers again and used the distraction of the kiss to raise her right leg and rest her foot against the front door. She dropped one hand and reached for her boot, slipping her fingers inside and groping for the blunt end of her stake. Closing her eyes she started to withdraw it slowly.
“I said, let’s go inside,” Sebastian spoke against her mouth. Quinn didn’t answer and he raised his head from hers, comprehension dawning in his colourless silver eyes.
“Sebastian!” an authorative voice called from the street. Sebastian growled, his back taut as his muscles bulged beneath Quinn’s left hand. Furiously he whirled on Drake, who stood on the front lawn, his face half-concealed by the darkness. A strange look passed between them, and finally Sebastian shrugged nonchalantly.
“I’m afraid I have to cut this party short, Quinn,” he apologised over his shoulder as he started down the steps. Turning to face her as he reached Drake he blew her a kiss. “I will see you very soon, love.”
Once inside, Quinn leaned back against the door. She threw her head back and banged it hard against the wooden surface. Fool she thought to herself. She couldn’t be sure just how much Sebastian knew but she had certainly aroused his suspicion. She pulled the stake from her boot and gripped it tightly in her right hand. She wondered briefly whether she should call Liam or one of the other Hunters to take care of Sebastian, but that would mean the Guardians would know her location and they would come for her.
Determined to stay indoors for a few nights until she could come up with a plan, Quinn once again declined Sarah’s offer to come over the following evening. Instead, she ordered a pizza for delivery and settled down on the sofa with her laptop to do some Guardian research. Information that leaked onto the internet was very valuable to the Guardians as well as to the vampires. What many humans put down to hoaxes or urban legends was actually critical information for the Guardians, if you knew what to look for. Quinn’s closest Guardian friend, Piper, bore the responsibility of scouring the internet for anything related to Summerfeld, and Quinn had no doubt that right now Piper had stumbled upon something incredible. Her heart in her throat Quinn read the article again. It was in some disreputable paper that would publish just about anything, no matter how far-fetched, but the Guardians had long since learned that these were the most credible publications when it came to the supernatural.
“Pegasus,” Quinn breathed, barely able to comprehend what she was reading. The winged horses had been one of the first species that the vampires had eradicated – whole herds had been slaughtered and devoured. Although the Greeks had taken the Pegasus for their own mythology, their recording of the legend was not entirely correct. The Ancient Greeks had fabled the Pegasus a single, pure white winged stallion who had been sired by Poseidon, God of the Sea. As usual, the truth had been lost over time. There was never only one winged horse. There were whole herds of them, much like the unicorns. King Eldon had managed to save a few of the horned horses - the unicorns - which now lived in the Silver Oaks Forest in Summerfeld, but sadly he had not been able to do the same for the winged variety, who, although blessed with the ability of flight, had been far more trusting in nature than the unicorns and had not instinctively fled from danger.
The article Quinn had found documented how a tourist claimed to have seen the Pegasus while camping in a remote section of The Sea of Trees forest at the base of Mount Fuji, in Japan. The tourist had been dubbed an “attention seeker”, but the more Quinn investigated the forest, the more it made sense. The trees were so dense that they blocked out the sound of wind and with the additional absence of any wildlife, the forest was exceptionally quiet. The Pegasus, much like the unicorns, were notoriously wild and skittish and preferred the quiet solitude of the woodlands where they would not be disturbed.
Quinn was interrupted by a gentle knock at the door and glanced up through the living-room curtains to see one of Phil’s waitresses holding a large pizza box.
“Come in,” she called, “the door’s unlocked.” Immersed in the article it took a few seconds to register the soft thud. Tossing the laptop aside, Quinn got to her feet in the same instant that Sebastian rounded the corner and stepped into the living-room.
She had invited him in, she realised, how could she have been so foolish? She hadn’t called by name and Sebastian must have been standing outside when she invited the girl in. Glancing down, she saw a dark ponytail protruding from the hall.
“What have you done to her?” Quinn demanded, not bothering to feign innocence. Sebastian knew... He knew that Quinn was aware that he was a vampire. No more pretences.
“She’ll live,” Sebastian replied, as though they were in the middle of a polite conversation. “Now, Quinn, I think you and I need to have a little chat.”
Quinn edged around the table, backing away towards the kitchen. In her pyjamas, she didn’t have a stake on her or any weapon she could use, but even a knife would be better than nothing. With Sebastian’s vampiric speed she would never reach the hidden weapons room, but she might make it to the kitchen. Throwing caution to the wind she turned and bolted. He was upon her before she had even taken two steps, grabbing her by the neck and throwing her backwards. She flew through the air and struck the railing of the stairs, hard, before dropping painfully to the floor. Stars burst in her vision and pain erupted in her head, neck and back. Her Guardian reflexes kicked in and she scrambled to her feet, her arms raised in front of her, her hands balled into fists.
Sebastian cocked his head to one side, surprised by her defensive stance. An ordinary human would have been knocked unconscious, or at the very least, would not have been able to get up.
“What are you?” he murmured, advancing slowly towards her. The thought that a Guardian would be living out here, alone, in the middle of nowhere, was so absurd that Sebastian clearly hadn’t even considered it.
“Get out of my house,” Quinn spat back. He blurred in front of her and the next instant his hand closed around her throat, lifting her into the air so that her feet dangled below her. Quinn’s hands scrabbled against his fingers, trying to prise them off so that she could draw breath. She had suspected that Sebastian was a very old vampire, and it was true, she had never encountered one so strong. A shadow crept into her peripheral vision, edging it in darkness as the oxygen levels in her body dropped drastically. Desperately, she struck out with her foot and caught Sebastian between the legs. In considerable pain, he loosened his grip for just a second, but it was all she needed.
Quinn tucked both of her legs up beneath her and then kicked them forward, connecting with Sebastian’s torso. Her own Guardian strength – a combination of years of training and the magical blood of the Summerfeld wards – did what no ordinary human’s could, and Sebastian released her, stumbling back and landing hard on the wooden floor. Quinn doubted she would get another opportunity to strike, but without a stake she was defenceless. Launching herself forward, she catapulted over Sebastian and hurtled towards the kitchen. As she reached the pantry cupboard, he grabbed her by the hair from behind and tossed her back into the living-room. She landed on the glass coffee table, the sound deafening as the glass shattered beneath her, shards embeddin
g themselves in her back and legs. Only semi-conscious, Quinn tried to pull herself out of the wooden frame, but every movement was agony as the glass pressed deeper into her flesh. Sebastian loomed over her, but his attention was diverted and he looked towards the living-room window. Quinn turned her head, understanding why the sound of glass shattering had seemed so amplified. The living-room window had also been shattered by the tall man standing just outside the house, his face morphed into a mask of unadulterated fury. Drake.
“Invite me in,” he ordered, tearing his eyes from Sebastian to glance meaningfully across at Quinn. She opened her mouth to do as he said but Sebastian was too quick for her. He hauled her up, clamping an icy hand around her throat, his smug arrogance blinding him to the thin, lethally sharp fragment of glass she clutched in her right hand. Quinn couldn’t breathe, let alone speak, but as Sebastian turned to sneer at Drake through the window, she raised her arm and plunged the crude weapon into his neck. Blood spurted onto her face and chest as Sebastian released her, his hands reaching for his throat. Quinn dropped to the floor at his feet, coughing violently. Gasping, rubbing her neck, she looked up into Drake’s frantic green eyes and croaked, trying to get the words out.
“Come in.”
Chapter 11
Quinn’s voice was hoarse and barely more than a whisper, but it was all Drake needed. Like an animal he flew through the window, faster than her eyes could track and then he was upon Sebastian. Sebastian had been weakened and was unprepared for the viciousness of Drake’s attack. Quinn crawled past them heading for the kitchen, but then her eyes fell on something lying on the floor near their feet. A splinter of wood – a remnant of the recently demolished coffee table. It was rudimentary, but by no means less effective. Quinn grasped it in her hand and held it tightly as she got unsteadily to her feet.
Sebastian and Drake were locked in combat, duelling to the death. Neither could allow the other to live. Quinn lifted the rugged stake to shoulder height and moved as close to them as she could.
“Drake!” she yelled. Despite the fierce battle he was engaged in, his green eyes met hers, and then moved to the stake in her hands, comprehension dawning on his face. For just a second, his eyes narrowed, and Quinn wondered if she had made a mistake, had misjudged him. Threatening to kill one of his own kind was a pretty big deal. Then, without warning, he grabbed Sebastian by the shoulders and spun him around, pinning his arms to his sides and exposing his chest. Knowing she had only a second before Sebastian broke free, Quinn didn’t hesitate. In one swift movement, she lunged forward and plunged the stake through Sebastian’s chest, into his heart.
The older vampire stiffened and then slowly, his body started to turn grey. Drake dropped him to the floor and they watched as the vampire elder decomposed, until nothing remained but a pile of ash.
Quinn was till trying to recover her breath, her entire body aching and sore. There was no one point of pain, but rather an encompassing agony. She staggered slightly and Drake caught her arm, marching her across to the sofa. It had all happened so quickly that Quinn had not given any thought to her neighbour, until she heard Sarah yelling. The noise must have alerted her to trouble.
“Quinn!” Sarah raced in through the open front door, leaping over the waitress’s inert form, and skidded to a halt before them. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Quinn muttered.
“You’re not!” Sarah took in her extensive injuries. “What happened? Did you do this to her?” she rounded on Drake angrily. Drake stepped forward taking Sarah by the shoulders and forcing her to meet his eyes.
“Quinn is fine. She is not hurt. Her window was smashed by vandals. You will remember nothing else.” Sarah relaxed, her body slumping slightly in his grasp as Drake continued, “I was never here. Go home and sleep.”
It was no secret that vampires can exert a powerful hypnosis over their human victims, but watching it first-hand was nothing less than creepy. Quinn shuddered, grateful that she was impervious to their mesmerising persuasion.
Sarah nodded meekly and then turned on her heel, exiting the house without so much as a backward glance. Noticing him wincing slightly as he turned back towards her, Quinn realised Drake had sustained greater harm than she had initially thought. He sat down heavily on the sofa beside her, but Quinn couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
“I will take the girl back to the bar when I leave. She will not remember,” Drake spoke first.
“Thank you.”
“You will be all right. Quinn,” he continued when she didn’t answer, “it is of the utmost importance that no-one finds out what happened here tonight.” She nodded vaguely and he reached over and jerked her arm, unbalancing her. She almost toppled off the sofa and into the large pile of ash. Steadying herself, her anger roused, she turned to glare at him.
“What was that for?”
“If anyone finds out that you know about us, you will not live to tell the tale. Fair warning.” His words were cold and hollow.
“No vampire will get to me,” she retorted haughtily.
“Ah, but you forget... I’ve been invited in.” He smiled; a cruel, calculating smirk and Quinn felt a wave of nausea pass over her. Drake may have saved her life but he was not to be trusted.
Drake whistled as he made his way home. He would not tell Genevieve what had become of her brother – let her think he had left town. Sebastian was gone, much to Drake’s pleasure. There would be no more talk of the Quest, no more hidden innuendos and polite courtesies. This was his town, and with Sebastian gone, it would remain so. Quinn was the only loose end. Surprised that she had survived Sebastian’s attack, Drake mused as to whether he should simply kill her himself. It was too great a risk to have her here in Brookfield knowing what he was.
Quinn still felt tender when her alarm went off at four a.m. the following morning, but most of her wounds had healed. The magical blood that the Guardians were imbued with gave them the ability to heal far more quickly than ordinary humans, although it certainly didn’t stop them from being killed. She didn’t know which species' blood she had to thank for this gift – possibly that of the unicorns, who seemed to possess a miraculous health. There would be no better time for her to visit the Cliffdale Cathedral. With the sighting of the Pegasus, the Guardians would mobilise in order to try and find the last survivors of the winged horses that had long been believed extinct. She might never get another opportunity like this. The Guardian in her, that she tried so hard to suppress, yearned to go and seek the animal herself – her blood crying out to join the search and ensure that the Pegasus, if it truly existed, be removed to the safety of Summerfeld – protected from the vampires who would no doubt be hunting it. They too scoured the internet for clues that would enable them to complete their Quest and destroy every supernatural being which remained. Quinn pushed the urge aside, thinking instead of Jack and Ava, and willed herself to focus on what was most important.
She dumped the black duffel bag onto the seat beside her and then backed out of the driveway. Sarah would make sure that the window was repaired. Quinn would call her when the sun came up. Heading away from Brookfield, she drove east, preparing herself for the long journey ahead.
The sun’s rays were only a half hour away when Drake turned into Ridge Road. He had changed his mind – Quinn could not be allowed to live, knowing his secret. He had never let a human learn of his true nature, not in all these years – not since Charlotte. He wasn’t about to start now. To his surprise, her car was gone. Cursing his delay, he stole in through the glassless window and moved up the stairs making no sound at all. A door to his left stood ajar and something bright caught his eye. Pushing open the door, he stared thoughtfully at the two beds with their clashing pink and blue bedspreads. Crossing to the closet, he took in the rows of clothing and the toys that lined the shelves around the room. Curiosity getting the better of him, Drake made his way back onto the landing and entered Quinn’s bedroom. He sat on the neatly made bed, his thoughts churn
ing. Nothing made sense. Determined to get answers, he settled down to wait.
Chapter 12
While Balthazar explained the significance of the cornflower to the others, Melchior offered to make a quick supply run back to a gas station they had passed a few miles back. Jonas immediately volunteered to go with him. Anything to escape his father’s company – they had been closeted together in the Chevy for weeks.
Melchior was a man of few words and the short trip passed in mutual silence.
“I’ll get the gas. You go in and get some supplies,” Melchior growled, in his low, rumbling voice when they finally reached the gas station. He handed Jonas a few crumpled bills and Jonas unfurled his long, lanky frame as he stepped out of the car. “Essentials only,” Melchior added, as if Jonas needed to be reminded. The gypsies were always low on cash. What little they did have they had acquired thanks mainly to Rowena and a few of the other women in the camp, who offered love-potions and crystal ball readings to unsuspecting people at various fairs. It was a load of horse-shit, obviously. If gypsies could tell the future they would be a lot richer. Their fortune-telling was nothing more than a cheap trick - a simple combination of natural intuition and learning to read cues. The love potions too, were a farce, but Rowena’s other potions – which cured ailments and certain sickness, were legitimate, a gift passed down to her by her ancestor, Jasmine.
Jonas entered the store and made his way across to the minuscule bakery section in the corner, ignoring the disdainful wrinkling of the cashier’s nose. He had long gotten used to the contemptuous attitude of the people who he came into contact with. The jeans that he wore had belonged to his father, and were at least long enough, but they were two sizes too big, and he had cinched them in at the waist with an old piece of rope. His T-shirt, which must once have been black, was a dull, washed-out grey, and his shoes were so perished that a filthy, overlong toenail poked through. The cashier - a pretty, gum-cracking blonde, averted her eyes as he glanced over at her.
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