Eve of Samhain (17 page)

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” She flashed me an apologetic look and began reading. “It looks like this entry was written by my grandmother. The story’s not a firsthand account, but merely a chronicle of a myth passed down through the years.” She paused for a moment, taking in my intense gaze, before starting up again.

“It’s written there’s a mystical apple tree that lies deep in the heart of Ireland. A silver bough from that tree is said to open the gateway between our world and the Isle of Apples, the Faerie Realm. Whoever possesses the bough shall gain safe passage between the two worlds until the sun sets, the following day.”

My heart plummeted. A mystical tree in Ireland? I couldn’t just pick up and run off to another country. That required money. Money I didn’t have. The pay from my job was good, but not
that
good. “Crap! Is there no hope? I won’t give up,” I cried.

I couldn’t imagine a life without Quinn. It didn’t matter that we’d only known each other a short while. He’d branded himself onto my very soul, marking me for life. It made no difference that he didn’t share my intense feelings. I’d help him regardless because he was my light in a world which had recently plagued me with fear and darkness. And sure as shit I’d do all I could to keep Quinn from fading away.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “How the hell am I supposed to get a mythical tree branch from Ireland?”

“That’s easy,” Martha said and smiled. “The internet.”

“W
ELL
,” I S
IGHED
, plopping down onto my bed, “that was the last one.”

Jessica sat down next to me and placed an arm around my shoulder in an effort to console me. “I can’t believe you sold all of your bags, Ryann. There must have been at least twelve Coach purses in that tub alone, not to mention the Dooneys and Juicys.” She, more than anyone else, knew how beloved my handbag collection was to me.

When Martha told me I’d need two thousand dollars to cover the cost of the magical bough, I’d nearly pissed myself.

Oh, yeah. Let me just go pull that out of the petty cash I have stashed away under my pillow. Not!

Along with student loans, my job covered my college tuition, as well as rent, gas, food and basic necessities. I had a decent sized savings account, but there certainly wasn’t enough to purchase a mystical relic with. The decision to part with my precious handbag collection had been an easy one. Helping Quinn was my single focus, and I’d do whatever it took to save him. Having taken great care to keep my bags in pristine condition, I knew they’d provide me with the money I needed to buy the branch.

I shrugged. “Material things can be replaced. People can’t.” I knew that fact all too well, having grown up without parents. I’d give away everything I owned and walk around naked and penniless if it meant I could have a family to call my own. My feelings for Quinn were just as strong and I’d hurriedly put together a “shop my closet” sale, posting signs around my apartment complex as well as the student commons on campus. It took just under a week to sell my precious collection.

Jessica gave my shoulder one last squeeze before standing up and peering into the empty tub where my purses once resided. “Well, with the sale of that last bag, you have the money you need to buy the apple thing-a-ma-jig.”

“Bough,” I said, correcting her.

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, bough. Sheesh.”

I crossed the room and winced as I stood in front of my mirror. I hadn’t been able to look at the damn thing without remembering the creepy words scrawled across it just a short time ago. I ran a brush through my hair and met Jessica’s eyes through her reflection in the mirror. “I have to head out to work in a few and I’m sure Quinn is waiting for me outside. Can you tell Martha to go ahead and order the bough now that we have all the money? Just tell her we’ll pay for it cash on delivery.”

I picked up the giant wad of bills sitting on my dresser and turned, handing it to her. “And make sure she gets the fastest shipping possible. Samhain is just around the corner.”

“Samhain, shmanhain. Why don’t you just call it Halloween?”

I shook the money in front of her. “Don’t lose this.” I flashed her a severe look as she took the handful of bills from me.

“Oh, come on!” Jess said in protest. “Have a little faith in your best friend.”

“I’m sorry,” I said and sighed. “I do have faith in you. I’m just on edge. What we’re doing is so important. It’s Quinn’s life.” I crossed the room, grabbing the only purse left to my name, a mid-sized, brown Roxy tote. “I gotta go. I’ll talk to you in the morning.” I gave her a quick hug and hurried out of the room.

I felt a tad anxious leaving my two roommates together. Jessica remained stubbornly aloof where Martha was concerned. Something had to give and I seriously considered locking the two of them in a room together until they decided to get along.

My breath caught at the sight of Quinn as I walked out into the courtyard of my building, into the crisp evening air. I was quite sure there would never come a time when I’d tire of admiring him. How anyone could make a simple white button-down look so amazingly sexy, I’d never know, but he managed it with ease. The top portion of his shirt was unbuttoned, allowing just a hint of his smooth, powerfully chiseled chest to be exposed. The sleeves were rolled and pushed up, and dammit, even his forearms were ripped and sexy.

Get a grip, Ryann.

As I stood eyeballing Quinn, I almost forgot the tension that had plagued us this past week. Almost. After placing my tongue back into my mouth, I managed to meet him halfway, happily accepting his leather jacket which he’d been holding for me. I was surprised he wasn’t wearing it himself as the climate had taken an unseasonably large dip.

“Won’t you need this?” I asked as I slipped my arms in the sleeves of his coat. I wore the thing so much, I wondered when he’d just give up and let me have it. His delicious scent lingered on the leather fabric still, even though he hadn’t worn it, flooding my center with a sinfully warm sensation. I was doomed. Quinn appealed to all my senses in the most primal way. Resistance was futile.

“Please. You insult me,” he scoffed, as he swept a stray lock of brown hair out of my eyes, taking care not to touch my skin. “This isn’t cold. It’s downright pleasant. Ireland in the dead of winter is cold. Fierce cold. That shit will freeze your balls off.”

A loud snort escaped my lips as I laughed. It couldn’t be helped, and he chuckled in response. Though bright, his smile didn’t reach his eyes, and a small piece of my heart chipped away. What I wouldn’t give to see him happy through and through. Still, the laughter felt refreshing after a week’s worth of uncomfortable, awkward silence between us.

My thoughts traveled back to when I’d gone to Martha for help. After setting my plan of action for aiding Quinn, I’d lost it, given in to my emotions and freaked out. Feeling guilty over the things I’d shouted at Quinn and sick at the thought of possibly pushing him away, I’d rushed out of my apartment in a panicked search for him.

I knew he’d be watching out for me since my demon stalker still lurked about, but wigged out anyway when I didn’t immediately see him. Not thinking straight, I ran down the busy street toward the school, searching for him. I took maybe ten steps before Quinn stopped me.

***

Quinn magically appeared in front of me. “Will you never learn?” He raised his hands in frustration and growled at me. The man actually growled. “Stubborn, irritating, pain in the hole!” Quinn’s Irish accent was thick, and though I was still reeling from our earlier confrontation, my knees went soft at the sound of his voice.

“I was looking for you. I wanted to apologize. Stop yelling at me!”

“Stop yelling, yourself!”

I threw my hands up in the air in a fit of temper. “All right, I will.” I not only looked like a complete idiot, I sounded like one as well, yelling at the top of my lungs like a child who got caught doing something naughty. Embarrassment and shame crept over me and I hung my head for a moment not wanting to face his penetrating gaze. There was so much I wanted to say to him.

“I’m so sorry, Quinn. The things…the things I said earlier were…awful.” I choked on my words, my voice muffled from the giant lump that formed in my throat as I continued to stare at the ground. His eyes blazed a hole into my soul as I continued. “I know you don’t feel the same, but I don’t care. I don’t want you to leave. I…I can’t be without you,” I sobbed.

I felt like such a loser, basically begging him to stay, knowing he didn’t feel the same. Sure, I could have walked away, not looking back, but that would have killed me. Quinn had taken up a space in my heart, a rather large space, actually, and without him present to fill it, I’d be a walking corpse, a shell of my former self, and half a person. Though he didn’t share the intensity of my feelings, he did care for me; that much I knew. He’d offered me his friendship and I’d take that over nothing at all.

A large, warm hand gently came to rest over my heart and my head snapped up, my eyes meeting his. Quinn captured my gaze, holding it in his own, his eyes filled with sorrow and something else I couldn’t make out.

“
Táim i ngrá leat. Is tú mo sonuachar.”
He spoke gently and with tenderness despite the rich timbre of his voice. The combination of his words and touch moved me immeasurably, despite the fact I had no idea what he’d said.

“So, I’m forgiven, then?” I could only assume he’d taken pity on me and forgiven my earlier outburst.

Quinn gave me a funny look, as if he were confused. A single brow rose, his eyes widened momentarily, before he nodded, the corners of his mouth turning up. “There is nothing to forgive, a
ghrá
.” He let his hand drop, a look of pain enveloping his handsome face. “I’m such a fool,” he muttered under his breath while shaking his head. “Come on then, lass. Let’s get you home.”

***

The smell of fine leather yanked me from my recollection as I climbed into Quinn’s car. We rode the short distance to Fire and Ice in the Mercedes, my personal favorite out of all his vehicles. The other sports cars were sleek, powerful and fun, but the Mercedes simply oozed style and class.

Quinn parked the car in the small garage up the street, as was his usual routine when taking me to work. Wary of just about anything with two legs and a pulse, Quinn insisted on staying nearby while I worked, constantly reminding me that evil could come calling at any time of the day, even in a public place.

Dedicated to my protection, Quinn had even taken to carrying an ancient Irish Scían on him, which I must admit, was a complete and total turn on. The ancient dagger was not only beautiful, but also deadly, and Quinn proudly flung it about on numerous occasions, trying to impress me with his skill.

From the research I’d done in recent weeks, I’d gathered that faeries tended to shy away from iron and steel, as it served as a kryptonite of sorts to them. When I asked Quinn about my findings, he’d laughed.

“Aye, that’s true for most faeries. I’m one of the lucky blokes that are an exception to that rule. When Morgana cursed me, she knew I’d need a way to defend myself against jealous husbands and the like, and cast a spell rendering me impervious to iron. Not only can I grasp a steel blade, I can do a fair bit of damage with it as well.”

The club was empty when we arrived, save a few employees. Stan had called me earlier in the day and asked that I come in early to help with inventory again. Thankful for the hours, what with the large purchase I’d just made, I happily accepted the extra work.

Quinn passed by the bar and knocked knuckles with the bartender, Gabriel, as he waltzed toward the back section where I usually waited tables, his iPhone and ear buds in hand. The two never spoke, but, for some strange reason, had formed an unspoken bond. Gabriel, silent and serious, had taken on a brotherly role of sorts, endearing himself to me and gaining the respect of Quinn in the process. Gabriel was the only man I’d ever witnessed Quinn pay any type of respect to, save our professors, whom he was forced to play nice with.

After storing my purse in the break room, I made my way over to the bar, greeting Gabriel, who then headed for the storage room, clipboard in hand.

Grabbing myself a bottle of water from the refrigerator under the bar, I popped the cap and was about to take a swig when a blast of cold air blew over me, and an evil, malevolent laughter filled the large room.

I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Standing on the other side of the bar was the same dark creature that haunted my dreams just weeks before, the same monstrosity that attacked me during my morning run. A shudder ripped through me as I stared at the hideous embodiment of evil and all things unholy: my demon stalker.

“Ryann.” His sinister voice burned my ears and ate away at my insides.

Before I had time to blink, Quinn appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and stood in front of the hideous demon, pure unadulterated hatred and rage emanating from him.

“Go in the back with Gabriel and Stan, Ryann.” Quinn’s eyes never left the Zmeu’s, who returned his deadly stare with one of his own.

I tried to move, but my leadened feet fused to the floor, rendering me immobile.

“There is no need for her to flee from my presence, faerie. I mean her no harm.” The demon broke Quinn’s gaze momentarily, turning toward me with a sinister smile. “So beautiful.”

Its bone-chilling voice sent my blood running cold while it moved toward me. It lifted its arm, beckoning for me to move forward.

Quinn dove toward the demon, pinning him to the bar, his deadly Scían dagger unsheathed and poised at its jugular, ready to drain its life in one swift plunge. “Ryann, get back!”

A horrible, base laughter filled the room, as the demon lay unmoving on the wooden surface of the bar, seemingly un-phased by Quinn’s murderous intentions. “Ahh…so eager you are to slay me, faerie. I wonder, though, if you are just as eager to risk exposing your true identity? You’ve already unmasked yourself to one worthless mortal. Would you risk exposure to more by slaying me now?”

“I care not for myself,” Quinn growled.

Time as I knew it ceased to exist. I’d shifted to another plane of reality where time passed at a much slower rate. Several things happened simultaneously. The muscles in Quinn’s arms flexed as he moved to plunge the dagger into the demon’s neck, and the door at the front entrance of the club opened, most likely another one of the bartenders coming in to help with inventory.

I screamed before I knew what I was doing. “Quinn. No!”

All it took was that one moment. Upon hearing my scream, Quinn hesitated, and the demon broke away, morphing into a giant black bird that swooped out the front door, forcing the employee trying to enter to dive to the floor to keep from being struck.

“The hell with that. I’ll go around to the back,” the poor guy shouted and dashed out of the building.

“No!” Quinn roared. “What have you done? I had him within my grasp. I could have ended this!” Rage and fury the likes of which I’d never seen flowed from every inch of him, reverberating off of the walls causing the entire building to rattle.

We stood in silence, staring at each other for what felt like an immeasurable amount of time.

“Earthquake!” Stan raced out from the back with his arms flailing, squealing like a stuck pig.

My boss’s howling failed to register with me as I focused on Quinn. “I’m so sorry.” Silent tears streamed down my cheeks. “I didn’t mean for him to get away. I…I just…”