Chapter Eleven
***Quinten***
Quinten rode all day behind Penny, watching her back and wondering why he suddenly felt so different about her. When he’d woken up that morning, she’d still been asleep, her head the only part of her body exposed, even though the tent was still warm from the spell he’d done the night before.
He’d watched her sleep as the sun came up, questioning for the first time his conviction that the shifters from this valley were up to something. So far, he’d seen nothing to indicate that they were anything but what they appeared to be, and her brother’s threats seemed suddenly like exactly what they’d been: them protecting her.
They’d spoken little since they’d stopped for lunch and that was okay with Quinten; he needed some time to figure out why he’d suddenly been nice to her this morning, why he’d needed so badly to see her smile. But he knew why: it was the kiss from the night before, a kiss that had rocked his world and left him a little stupid while Penny went off into the night to explore a noise in the woods.
Thinking about that kiss left him wanting another one, and he knew that he was in trouble, that the longer he was around her, the stronger the urge to kiss her would become. He wanted to fight the feeling, but something deep inside was beginning to whisper to him that it would be a huge mistake to walk away from what he felt.
The only thing still keeping him from following through with his fantasies was the fact that Penny was a shifter, and he’d sworn long ago never to trust one. But it was becoming clear to him that he may have been judging an entire group of people on the action of only a few. From what he’d seen of her family and friends, they were good people trying to live good lives.
When the trail began to climb, he had to abandon his meandering thoughts and concentrate. Up ahead, he noticed that Penny was sitting rigidly on her horse, her shoulders tight. She usually rode with such casual nonchalance and grace that it surprised him, but then she stopped her horse and waited for him.
He stopped next to her, not liking the look on her face. “What’s wrong?”
“This is where it happened,” she said, dismounting and walking towards a little clearing in the trees.
Quinten followed her silently, willing to wait for her to speak again. He’d long ago learned that in some situations, letting a witness talk was sometimes far better than asking questions, and this was one of those situations. They walked to the center of the clearing and Penny looked all around her, then shivered as if she was cold.
“I could feel it when it happened; I knew that Justin was in trouble, but I didn’t know how much. The wolf-shifter tricked him, lured him here and then attacked. He slashed his stomach open, he left him to die, but Justin managed to crawl almost all the way home,” she said, then fell silent, her breath coming in short gasps.
Quinten stepped up and put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay; take your time,” he said.
He could feel her body trembling under his hand, and he wanted to pull her into his arms but knew that he didn’t dare, knew that if he did, she’d stop talking. “When my brothers finally found him and got him to the ranch, they discovered that the wounds wouldn’t heal, that nothing anyone could do was going to save Justin. Of course, I didn’t know all this at the time; I was with Annabelle in Fairplay trying to keep her from my brother.”
“Why?” Quinten asked when she paused, too curious to stop himself. A lot of what he was hearing hadn’t been in the reports he’d been given.
Penny sighed. “I thought they were bad for each other. I thought she was human and wouldn’t be able to live with a shifter. None of us knew that she was a witch until we got to the ranch and she saw Justin’s wound.”
Quinten was beginning to see a different picture than the one that had been painted for him. “She hid the fact that she was a witch; why?”
“She told me later that she just wanted to live like a normal person for a while, that she was tired of her magic, then she fell in love with Justin and was afraid to tell him. But she also said that when she performed the spell that night, she realized that she was a witch and would always be one, that she’d never be able to live like a normal human.”
“Do you think your brother would have died if she hadn’t done that spell?” Quinten asked, beginning to think that he hadn’t quite gotten the entire story.
“Yes, his body wasn’t healing. He would have died if we hadn’t done it,” Penny said, through clenched teeth, then she turned and looked at him for the first time. “Annabelle said that the wound was cursed, that nothing except magic would make him heal. I don’t care if it was black magic or not; it saved my brother’s life, and I’ll always be grateful that Annabelle is who she is.” Her voice was so fierce that he felt the overwhelming need to step back, but instead, he reached for her and pulled her into his arms.
The investigator in him knew that it was the wrong thing to do, but the man inside him knew that it was the exact right thing to do. He felt her take a deep breath and then she put her arms around him and rested her head on his chest. A wave of desire raced through him, but it was mixed with an intense need to protect her, to take all her pain and make it go away.
“Do you want to sit down for a second?” he asked, when her body had stopped trembling.
She looked up at him, her eyes full of unshed tears, “No, I’ll be okay. Let’s get out of here; there’s nothing to see, since the blood was washed away long ago.”
Quinten looked into her eyes and saw not only hurt and pain, but strength. “You’re an amazing woman, Penny,” he said, then gently untangled himself from her and took her hand.
***Penny***
When approaching nightfall made them stop to set up camp, Penny found that she was exhausted. She’d told that story several times before but never standing in the very spot that it had happened. It had been so much more difficult being there, the picture of Justin being taken down so real in her mind, it was as if she’d been there.
Quinten had been silent since they left the clearing and she wondered what he was thinking. She’d left so much out in her story, things that would come up later, but she didn’t have the energy to talk about it any longer. Dinner and bed were all she wanted, so when he suggested that this might be a good time to use magic to do some of the work, she accepted.
After they’d unloaded the horses, she began to feel better, a little time and distance helping her to remember that it was all in the past. Quinten had been nothing but helpful, taking direction from her without any back talk, and she was beginning to get bored with a cooperative Quinten.
“Okay, witch,” she said when the horses were tethered for the night, “let’s see what you can do.”
Quinten gave her a sloppy grin and began cracking his knuckles like he was about to do something physical. Then he rolled his shoulders, shook out his arms, walked a few paces around the campsite, then started cracking his knuckles again.
Penny watched him, amused; he was clearly stalling for time. “Well, if you can’t do it just say so and we’ll do it the hard way,” she said, mockingly.
Quinten grinned at her again, lifted his hands in the air and then began spinning around. There was a swirl of colors around her, and a flash of bright light that made her shut her eyes tightly, and when she opened them, the camp was set up. A fire burned in a huge fire ring, the heat reaching her where she stood several feet away; the tent was nestled under the trees; a small kitchen was ready and waiting for them to make dinner.
Penny couldn’t believe her eyes at first but managed to hide her astonishment just in time. When Quinten flashed her a triumphant look, she said, “You didn’t make dinner,” then burst out laughing at the look on his face.
“I’m just kidding, this is awesome. I should bring you camping more often,” she said, then walked over to the fire and sat down.
“I don’t know about that,” Quinten said. “It’s a lot more work than I thought it would be.”
“You’re doing way
better than I thought you would,” Penny said, relieved to be talking about something else for a change.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Quinten said, then got to his feet. “I’m going to go make dinner; you stay here and rest.”
“I’m not sick, you know,” she said, to his retreating back. “I’ll do the dishes.”
“That’s a deal.”
***Quinten***
When Quinten handed Penny the plate of food, she held it up to her nose and took a deep breath of the fragrant steam. “This looks great, and it smells wonderful,” she said, a look of surprise on her face.
“I told you I could cook, and I’d like to point out that I did this the hard way. No magic was used in the preparation of this food,” he said, grinning back at her.
He watched her take several bites, then asked, “So?”
“It tastes just as good as it looks,” Penny said, grudgingly. “I think you’re a better cook than I am.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Quinten said, then added, “But don’t think this means I’m doing all the cooking.”
Penny took another bite, sighed with pleasure then said, “You might change your mind when you taste my cooking. Everyone puts up with it, but that’s about it.”
Quinten laughed. “Then maybe I’d better do all the cooking,” he said, leaning over to nudge her shoulder.
It was such a simple gesture, but the minute their bodies touched, there was a spark of electricity between them sharp enough to make them both suck in a breath. Quinten knew that he should ignore what he felt, should scoot away a little bit and not touch her again, but he couldn’t make himself move.
Something had changed between them today in the clearing; she’d become more than just a shifter to him; she’d become a human. It hadn’t hit him until they’d been on the trail for a little while that instead of questioning every word of her story, he’d been drawn in, compelled to help her through it.
He knew that it was the chemistry, the attraction between them that had made him behave that way and he was beginning to wonder if that was a bad thing. Maybe he’d been wrong all these years about shifters; maybe his work had tainted his mind even further against them. If he was honest with himself, he’d have to admit that all his contact with shifters had always been bad, first with his parents and then as part of his job.
For years, Evelyn and Walter had been telling him that shifters weren’t all bad, that like all people they could be both good and bad, but he’d been too stubborn and hurt to listen to them. By the time he was on his own, that idea had been so firmly planted in his mind, he’d never even considered the possibility that he could be wrong. Now sitting next to Penny, he had to admit that he might have been wrong, that there were good shifters in the world too.
Deciding that it was time to put his investigative skills to use and find out more about the real Penny, he turned to her and said, “Tell me about your family and what it’s like to be a shifter.”
Chapter Twelve
***Penny***
Penny looked over at Quinten, surprised; they’d been having such a nice dinner, and now he’d ruined it with the investigation. “I don’t know what you want to know,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.
Quinten was silent for a few minutes. “I don’t know that much about shifters except that they can be very dangerous,” he answered honestly.
Penny looked over at him again. “That’s true sometimes but not always. Most of the shifters in the world are happy to live quiet lives, raise their families, work their jobs. But there are some out there who’ve been beaten up by society, cast aside, or worse yet, forced to become something that people pay money to stare at. Those are the shifters you’ve been dealing with; they’re forced to do whatever they can to survive.”
“That can be some pretty awful stuff,” Quinten said quietly.
Penny nodded her head. “Yes, it can be, and that’s why my family started the ranch: to give shifters who’ve been wronged a place to heal and live a normal life.”
Quinten turned and looked at her. “What do you mean?”
Penny sighed, and she didn’t miss the little smile that appeared on Quinten’s face. “Being a shifter can be difficult, especially when we begin to mature and come into our powers. It takes a lot of time and training to learn to control the impulses that we feel, and without that training, a shifter can become lost, and the gift turns into a curse,” she said, then paused to make sure he understood.
Quinten nodded. “I think I understand; just like we have to work with our powers, shifters have to learn how to use their gifts correctly.”
“And that’s where my family comes in; when my family founded the ranch, they knew that they’d found the perfect place for those shifters: a place where they might be able to salvage their lives and learn how to function in the world. Most of the people who founded this valley had been in some terrible places: jails, orphanages, and even insane asylums.”
When Quinten’s eyes got big, she laughed. “Don’t worry that was a long time ago; now most of the shifters that come to the valley aren’t in quite that bad of shape, but it still happens occasionally.”
“So, you run a shifter rescue?” Quinten asked.
Penny laughed again, “I wouldn’t put it exactly that way but yes, we have contacts all over the world, people who understand what we are and through them, we find those that need our help. There are others like us all over the world; unlike in the old days, shifters don’t have to live solitary lives.”
“Yeah, they group together in packs and….” Quinten trailed off, afraid that he was going to say the wrong thing.
“Shifters are just like other people, Quinten; there are good and bad,” Penny said. “You just haven’t seen the good ones; you’ve only seen the bad.”
“I think you might be right,” Quinten said, then became silent, lost in his thoughts.
Penny left him alone at the fire and cleaned up the dinner dishes then got the camp ready for the night. She could tell that she’d opened his eyes up to some new possibilities and wanted to give him some space to work through that. Quinten might be an especially difficult witch, but he was intelligent; given the right information he’d figure it out eventually.
That thought made her happy, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why: she was falling for the idiot. As hard as she’d tried not to, her body had seen to it that she did, and his kindness in the clearing earlier that afternoon hadn’t helped either. Quinten had shown her a side of himself that she’d assumed was missing; he’d shown her that he did have a soft and caring side, a side that could recognize pain and offer comfort.
It was becoming nearly impossible to resist the temptation to just forget who he was and what he’d come to do, especially when he kissed her. A part of her wanted to quit fighting, to let nature take its course; maybe once they’d satisfied the need pulsing between them it would go away. It had happened with her before; chemistry-driven romance was exciting and wonderful but often faded with time, and that would be okay with her.
The last thing she’d ever want was to be married to a witch, especially one that was an investigator for the witch’s council. Realizing what she’d just been thinking, she stopped short and stood in silence looking up at the sky. She was being beyond ridiculous, thinking about marriage and to Quinten no less. Knowing that she had to put a stop to her wild thinking, she walked back over to the fire where Quinten was still sitting silently staring at the fire.
“I’m going to go to bed. I cleaned up the kitchen and got camp ready for the night,” she said.
“Okay, goodnight,” Quinten mumbled.
As she got into her sleeping bag, she wasn’t sure if she was glad or sad that he’d just waved her off to bed. But it wasn’t long before her eyes became heavy; it had been a long and exhausting day, and maybe that was the cause of her crazy thoughts. Things would look clearer in the morning after she’d had some sleep, but as she dozed off, images of
Quinten filled her head, and a smile spread across her face.
***Quinten***
They were on the trail early the next morning after a quick breakfast. They didn’t say much to each other as they broke camp. Quinten was still thinking about everything she’d told him the night before, trying to sort through it all in his brain, the process of discovering that he might have been wrong about shifters for most of his life a difficult one.
When they finally swung into the saddle, he’d decided that for now, he’d have an open mind, try to push aside his old prejudices and see beyond them. It was a beautiful morning: the sun shining so brightly on the snow that he’d dug his sunglasses out and put them on. The temperature was rising quickly, and he knew that before long he’d be able to shed his heavy coat: a thought that brought him joy.
Looking around him, he decided that he’d enjoy the ride; it was becoming much easier after the last few days, and he’d begun to enjoy it. But then his horse stumbled and jarred him, and he couldn’t help but groan at the pain it caused. His muscles were sore and overworked, and until that moment, he hadn’t realized just how tired he was.
“Are you okay?” Penny turned around and asked.
“I’m fine, just a little sore,” he said, trying for a happy grin, but sure it looked more like a grimace.
“Well, it’s not much further; if we make good time we should be at the cabin by nightfall. I’ve got something there that might help with those sore muscles,” Penny said, grinning.
“Are you going to tell me what it is?” he asked, grinning back at her despite his screaming muscles.
“Nope, I want it to be a surprise,” she said, then stopped her horse and let him catch up. When he was sitting next to her, she reached into her pocket and handed him some over-the-counter painkillers. “These might help in the meantime.”
Quinten (Fairplay Shifters Series Book 3) Page 7
