A Life Of Shadows (The Redemption Saga Book 1)

by Kristen Banet

  He waited for much longer than a minute and raised his eyebrows when she opened the door. She was disheveled, her dark hair going everywhere even though she had it up in a ponytail. Her ebony eyes were a little glazed; and her chest, that gorgeous chest, was rapidly moving up and down.

  He had two guesses for what she had been doing—drugs or masturbating. He was smart enough not to say either out loud.

  “Can I help you?” She was curt with him, and he actually liked it a little. In some perverse, fucked up way, he wanted to know just how sharp that tongue could be. But this wasn’t the time for it, and there were more secrets between the two of them than she knew. After Axel, he promised himself. He would delve into this charming woman after they dealt with Axel.

  “The team wants to do a movie night down in the entertainment room,” he responded, matching her terse tone. He loved the verbal sparring, loved seeing her eyes narrow at his lack of response. She wanted to figure him out, and he wanted to… well, he wasn’t going to let his mind go there right now.

  “Am I required to be there?” She raised an eyebrow and looked back into her room. Vincent resisted the urge to lean in and see what she was looking at. He had a strong guess.

  “Yes.” He gave her a smile and turned to leave. She wasn’t but, he loved the idea that he was keeping her from dealing with that particular problem when he couldn’t do the same for himself.

  21

  QUINN

  Quinn sank into his seat, sighing in happiness. Elijah sat on his left, in his own chair, grinning.

  “Like the new chairs?” Elijah elbowed him, and Quinn nodded.

  “I’m happy we are finally coming down to use them,” Quinn murmured to him, not wanting to get loud. “Though, I think you’re more interested in… her coming down here than the chairs.” Quinn almost said ‘the female’ but corrected himself. Before they had brought her to the house, he and Elijah had a long discussion about how to properly address her.

  “I am excited about that,” Elijah chuckled. “Can you blame me?”

  “No,” Quinn smiled at him. He trusted his friend’s judgment on humans, especially of the female variety. Quinn was naturally distrustful of them.

  “I’m happy to hear that,” Elijah’s voice dropped to a whisper. He grabbed Quinn’s hand and placed his lips to his palm. Quinn cupped Elijah’s cheek for a moment.

  They weren’t lovers, not often anyway, but Quinn and Elijah had found a physical friendship together, each getting the physical affection they needed and couldn’t find elsewhere. Was there love there? Quinn thought there probably was, but they weren’t soulmates. Even together, he and Elijah still found something… missing.

  Quinn looked over to Jasper and Zander, lost in their own conversation. The other side of the coin: true brothers through everything except blood, those two. Quinn pulled his hand away and looked back to Elijah.

  “I was worried for a couple of weeks,” Elijah sighed, “but I knew you and she would figure it out when I saw you took her to the swimming hole.”

  “My brothers were getting angry with me,” Quinn groaned. Shade and Scout had been riding his ass, upset that he wasn’t nicer to the female. “They are totally in love with her.”

  “Of course,” Elijah grinned deviously, “I think all three of the wolves like her more than they let on.”

  Quinn snorted, leaning back in his seat again. To anyone else, Elijah was referencing Quinn’s wolf form, but Quinn knew better. Elijah was the only person on the team who knew the name his mother had given him when his abilities had manifested. Rogue Wolf. Quinn didn’t use it and he’d only shared it with Elijah once. They had been drinking a little too much wine. He’d made his mother’s recipe. It was strong wine.

  They sat in companionable silence for a long time, waiting for the last two of their group to show up. Quinn heard footsteps on the stairs and perked up a little. It had to be Vincent. He would never hear Sawyer at that distance.

  “We only have five recliners,” Vincent told Elijah, who was nursing a beer. They had leather theater-style recliners. They were extra wide with cup holders and seat warmers. And they only had five of them when they needed six, if Sawyer was going to watch movies with them. Quinn looked around and realized Vincent was right.

  “Well, you better claim yours before I steal it,” her voice drifted in from behind Vincent, and Quinn saw her stroll around him. Quinn let her vanilla scent hit his nose and nearly growled in pleasure at it. It was light, barely there, but he always knew when she walked into the room because of it. He’d noticed early on that she walked silently, so he’d learned to focus on her scent. He was happy to do so, since she smelled wonderful. His senses were above average compared to other humans. Thanks to his multiple animal bonds and his own shapeshifting, he could rely on more than his eyes and ears. “Oh, there’s a bar in here! What kind of liquor do you boys keep? I haven’t had a drink in ages.”

  Vincent sighed wistfully at her. He probably thought no one noticed. Quinn did, though. Quinn knew all the other guys were attracted to her on a primal level, and he knew she was attracted to all of them. He found the entire dance of living with her fascinating. He’d never experienced something quite like it during his time in modern society. In the wild, they would have fought against each other to claim the strong female as a mate. As far as he knew, humans were normally very similar, but it wasn’t happening here. He knew from experience that males who wished to mate with a Druid were expected to do similar—fight for the privilege.

  So, going against everything he knew, he watched her dance between five healthy and strong males without them all killing each other. Even Jasper, who Quinn knew was permanently injured, was a contender to be reckoned with. Yet, he saw no hostilities between any of them.

  “What are you making?” Quinn asked with a frown as the strong scent of alcohol and pure vanilla slammed into his nose. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was very strong—stronger than the beer Elijah had or the wine his mother used to drink.

  “It’s a vodka martini, though this one is a vanilla vodka martini.” She smiled over at Quinn, who stood up slowly to look at what she was making. Elijah frowned at him, but Quinn was too focused on what she was doing, pouring different things into a cup. He knew people mixed drinks like this, but he’d never smelled one like what she was making.

  “Can I try it? None of them ever mix stuff.” Quinn walked behind the bar to her side. He didn’t resist the urge to get closer than necessary.

  “Sure,” she chuckled, handing him the glass. He took a sniff and realized maybe he shouldn’t be trying to smell it. It was too strong for his sense of smell. It blocked out everything else in the room. He took a swallow and his eyes went wide. “You’re supposed to sip it. Unless you want to get really fucked up. I mean, you can do that, but I don’t recommend it.”

  “It’s good,” he mumbled as he handed the glass back to her. He looked at the drink, then his chair and had an idea. Elijah was probably going to be a little upset with him. “You can sit with me if you make me one as well.”

  “Is there room?” She chuckled, looking over at the seats. She looked a little nervous at his suggestion, but she didn’t let it stop her from thinking over his request. “Oh, yeah, those things are huge. Sure, you take that one, and I’ll just make a second one.”

  He took the drink, excited to have his own. He really liked it, and he knew it was because it was vanilla. He sat down and curled into the right half of the seat. Vincent sat down with a scotch, with Zander had a beer like Elijah.

  “So, what are we watching tonight?” Sawyer asked as she got to the chair. Quinn helped her sit down so she didn’t spill her drink.

  “Some new Marvel movie,” Vincent groaned. “Probably.”

  “Actually,” Elijah laughed, “you’re kind of close. We’re watching Wonder Woman, from DC.”

  “Fuck yeah,” Sawyer laughed, and Quinn’s chest rumbled in pleasure for a second. He was happy she didn’t notice. “I’
ve heard this movie is fantastic.”

  “So have I.” Elijah grinned at her. Quinn had purposefully put her between him and Elijah. Something about the seating arrangement pleased him, like it had at the swimming hole when they were on the rock. She didn’t need to know that he told Shade to move.

  Quinn didn’t care about the movie in the beginning, but Sawyer’s enthusiasm was a little infectious. She and Elijah cheering for the Amazon women made all of them start cheering. Zander made her another drink when she asked, and then another. Quinn lost count, and, by the end, he had a female curled up into him without a care in the world.

  He looked over at Elijah, who was smirking at him. Quinn looked back down at her and realized that Sawyer wasn’t nearly as afraid of him as she once was. That pleased him, since he didn’t want her to be scared anymore. He’d done it on purpose, originally.

  “Oh, hell,” Sawyer giggled. “Zander, Sugar, you make drinks much stronger than I do.”

  “My bad,” Zander chuckled, covering his mouth in an attempt to hide what Quinn had heard described before as his ‘shit-eating grin’.

  “Drunk Sawyer is kind of adorable,” Elijah laughed, looking toward Vincent, who glowered back.

  “Need help getting to your room?” Quinn asked, leaning towards her ear. His left arm had somehow gotten pinned underneath her, and he knew it had fallen asleep twenty minutes before.

  “I would love that,” Sawyer laughed. “I think I’m likely to kill myself on the stairs if no one is there.”

  He helped her to stand and blatantly checked out her ass while he was still seated. Every other guy in the room was, why couldn’t he?

  “Need any help, Quinn?” Jasper was standing up as well.

  “No, I’ve got her,” Quinn narrowed his eyes on the other male, but pushed back the wave of possessiveness. She wouldn’t like that. She was a strong alpha female, and Quinn knew better than to try and make a scene over her. He also knew it wasn’t his place. Jasper had the older claim to her, as did Zander.

  “Good luck, my man,” Zander laughed, jumping up and throwing an arm over Jasper. “Let’s go play some COD.”

  “Good idea,” Jasper chuckled as they left. “Good luck, Quinn.”

  “Good night,” Vincent mumbled, and Quinn wondered why their leader practically stormed out of the room.

  “Good night!” Sawyer called after him, waving. “Come on, Quinn. Let’s get out of here before Elijah decides he needs to take all his clothes off, again. I’m in no place to deny him, right now.”

  “Well…” Elijah grinned, standing up. Quinn snorted as he began to pull his shirt up like a stripper. “If that’s the case…”

  “Nope!” Sawyer grabbed Quinn’s arm, and Quinn let her pull him out of the seat. “Good night, cowboy!”

  “It’s only a good night when I dream of you, darling,” Elijah winked.

  “Pervert,” Sawyer laughed.

  “Let’s go,” Quinn said quietly, wrapping an arm around her waist. One of hers went around his own; and they left the room together, leaving Elijah to clean up the entertainment room.

  They walked up to her room in amicable silence, though it was a bit tough on the narrow stairs leading to the attic. Quinn bit back another growl when she ended up pressed against him as she tried to get the door to the attic open.

  “Let me,” he grumbled, reaching around her to turn the knob.

  “Thank you!” She grinned, stumbling into the attic once he had the door open. He grabbed her before she went down to the floor and pulled her against him, again. While it drove him mad, it seemed to be safer.

  “Let’s get you to bed,” Quinn murmured into her ear.

  “For another night of furiously masturbating and having nightmares,” Sawyer groaned. “Damn.”

  He didn’t have a response to that, so he just got her room door open and led her inside. He took a sniff and realized how right she’d been. The room was saturated in a scent that he could only describe as heaven. She must have been doing it recently.

  “What do you mean by nightmares?” he whispered, helping her sit on the edge of her bed.

  “I have them,” she mumbled, shaking her head.

  He knew that much. His wolves would try to sleep up here with her, and he would be bombarded by the scents they picked up while she slept. They liked her room since it was always unusually colder than the rest of the house. Standing there now, he realized why.

  Her magic stuck to every object. A chill. A level of emotion in that magic that rocked him to his bones for a second. Horror. Fear. Pain, both physical and emotional. Violence. When she’d first arrived, the room hadn’t been so claimed by her yet. While many described his magic as wild, her magic was dark, deadly, and cold. He wondered if she knew her magic had such a distinct feeling. Every Magi’s magic and Source felt different, but it took a certain something more to make it so obvious.

  “You have them frequently,” he met her eyes, glazed from the drink. She gave him a bitter, off-kilter smile. He needed to remember that she was incredibly drunk and that a serious topic was inappropriate.

  “Every night.”

  “I’ll leave the wolves up here for you in case you need assistance,” Quinn moved on. He needed to get out of this room. He didn’t want to take further advantage of her state to get questions answered that he had no right asking to begin with.

  “They’re cuddlers,” Sawyer snorted, looking at Shade, who was already claiming an entire side of her bed. Scout was waiting for her to lay down, so he could curl up between of them. Quinn mentally touched the connection he had with his brothers and let them know to alert him to anything out of the ordinary. Scout’s bouncing enthusiasm echoed back while Shade just gave a vocal huff in acknowledgement.

  “They are, and they will let me know if you need to get up for anything, like the bathroom.” Quinn nodded and shuffled out of the room, closing the door quietly. She could undress herself.

  He hit the second floor and considered his next move. He knocked once on Elijah’s door, then walked in.

  “Sleeping in here tonight?” Elijah asked without looking up from what he was doing.

  “Yeah, I left the boys with her in case she needs anything. I want to stay close.” Quinn pulled his shirt off and began to fold it carefully.

  “You don’t need to do that in here,” Elijah chuckled, watching him now.

  “Vincent told me humans fold their clothing, so I do,” Quinn huffed. “I know you think it’s unnecessary.”

  He placed the neatly folded shirt on top of Elijah’s dresser. Elijah’s room was his second favorite in the house after his own room. Elijah used natural wood with minimal treatments for all his furniture, and Quinn liked the scent of them. He unbuttoned his pants and pulled them off, folding them as well.

  “Vincent needs to stop telling you weird shit he does,” Elijah laughed, taking Quinn’s pants and tossing them on the floor. Quinn sighed, looked to where his jeans landed, and saw Elijah’s pile of dirty laundry.

  “Was that necessary?” Quinn met Elijah’s stare and watched Elijah’s large shoulder raise in a shrug.

  “No, but neither is folding them,” Elijah turned and claimed his bed. Quinn couldn’t stop the small curl of his smile at the oaf. Oaf, such a Vincent word. “You could have stayed up there with her. No one would have tried to stop you.”

  “I feel you are incorrect in that assumption,” Quinn narrowed his eyes. “They all would have wanted to stop me, but none of them want to get into that fight.”

  “I think you’re right,” Elijah yawned.

  “And you haven’t gotten couches up there, yet,” Quinn mumbled under his breath.

  “I heard that, and you said you didn’t care.” Elijah pointed at him. “And you know what, if I’m ‘required’ to crash in her room for a night, I don’t want a couch to be an option. Now turn off the lights and come to bed. Or brood, your choice.”

  “I think I’ll brood,” Quinn chuckled, flicking the lights off. He
went to Elijah’s window, which looked over the woods. He pondered for a moment before speaking again. “Her magic… it doesn’t feel like a just a thief.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Elijah whispered in the dark, “and the fact that she throws that much off, even with an inhibitor, says something about how strong she really is.”

  “It does.” Quinn nodded to himself.

  “Well,” Elijah groaned, “no Magi or any inhibitor can truly stop the natural flow of magic from a Magi’s Source. Only death ends the flow of magic in a real way. The inhibitor just robs her of her being able to use her abilities and controls that flow of magic more carefully.”

  “But that doesn’t explain why her magic feels the way it does,” Quinn mumbled. “Have you talked to Vincent about it?”

  “I think he’s too wrapped up in Axel, Atlanta, and Jon to worry about it, right now. Zander finds it alluring in his stupid way. He likes playing dangerously, and her magic is danger. Jasper… he’s been different. Something’s off him with and I’m not sure what’s going on.” Elijah kept his voice low so that only Quinn could hear him.

  “She has nightmares,” Quinn whispered back.

  “Well, that could definitely be a problem for Jasper,” Elijah sighed. “With how strong she is, he probably can’t block his mind properly while he’s sleeping in order to dream his own dreams.”

  Quinn leaned on the window, using his arm as a rest for his forehead. He saw creatures moving, eyes reflecting light as they looked toward the house. He was in charge of everything within thirty miles of the house, so all of those animals knew who he was, but he had less of a connection to the nocturnal animals. They were elusive and independent. Like Sawyer. Creatures of the dark, owners of the shadows, all of them.

  “Her magic feels like the night,” Quinn whispered.

  “Come to bed, Quinn,” Elijah sounded muffled. “Discover the secrets of the world tomorrow.”

  “Fine.” He pushed off the window and slid into bed next to Elijah. As Elijah drifted to sleep, an arm thrown carelessly over Quinn’s abdomen, Quinn absorbed the feel of Elijah’s magic. Warm, like a low-burning fire, and masculine, something to fight the chill that he’d experienced with Sawyer’s.