Frost Burn (The Fire and Ice Series, Book 1) (19 page)

“That’s ok. We had to make sure someone didn’t try to break in the front.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Angie murmured.

“I probably should have left the raccoon for Clint tomorrow.”

Angie released a short burst of laughter as she shook her head. “We’d both be out of a job then.”

“Yeah,” Quinn agreed, but her eyes slid back to the closed kitchen doors and the horror that lay beyond.

Quinn stepped out the front door with Angie then locked it behind them. She slid the keys into her pocket and climbed down the steps with far more calm than she felt. Her body was twitchy with the urge to double around to the back, see what was going on, and help the others. “I’ll see you tomorrow!” Angie called and branched off to the left toward her apartment.

Quinn watched until she was out of sight before turning to go behind the restaurant. She didn’t make it all the way through her turn before she smacked up against a solid chest. Startled, she took an abrupt step back and shook her head. He moved as noiselessly as a wraith if he’d managed to sneak up on her, either that or she was way off her game. Despite the fact she was annoyed with herself, she couldn’t help but admire the way the moonlight lit his white blond hair and shimmered across eyes made even more arctic by the hostile air surrounding him. His gaze went to where Angie had disappeared before settling on her. With a sharp jerk of his head, he indicated the small alley between Clint’s and the bank next door.

“How is the girl?” Quinn asked anxiously. “Is there something we can do to help her?”

“No.” His blunt tone caused her to stumble over her feet a little.

“What do you mean
no
?” she demanded. “There has to be something we can do.”

“She’s dead.”

Quinn’s mouth dropped, for the first time in her life, she believed she might throw up. “What?”

Julian turned toward her. “There was nothing we could do for her, Quinn,” he said quietly. “The few children who survive the change are crazed monsters, but she didn’t survive it.”

“I saw her,” she whispered. “She was alive.”

“She wasn’t done with the change. She was too small; her body couldn’t handle the influx of vampire blood, her system shut down. It was for the best, she would have been irrational and we would have had to put her down anyway. Children can’t handle the thirst; they can’t control themselves. There’s a reason why vampires can’t procreate.”

Her gaze drifted back toward the bar; she couldn’t shake the sickness in her stomach. “She was so helpless, so broken.”

He wrapped his hand around the back of her head and pulled her against his chest. She pressed her hands against the unyielding flesh of his ridged abdomen. To curl up in his arms and lose herself was an enticing prospect, but it wasn’t a possibility. Not today, not ever. She didn’t respond to his hold on her, but he kept his hand around her head. He bent and placed a kiss against her cheek.

“We have to get back in there.”

She nodded at his words and reluctantly stepped away from him. His eyes were still frigid when they came back to hers, but his face had softened a little. She walked with him to the kitchen door and braced herself before stepping into the kitchen. Melissa was kneeling by the child; tearstains streaked her face, but she’d stopped crying. Chris stood on the other side of the island, his hands rested on the steel. He glanced up at Julian, but his attention quickly returned to his hands. Lou and Luther knelt on the other side of the child; Zach had retreated to stand by the stove.

“It’s the same girl,” Melissa whispered. “She looked far different, but this was the same little girl in my vision.”

Images flipped rapidly through Quinn’s mind, screams echoed in her head as she stared at the body. The past surged up around her, it tried to pull her into its murky depths and bury her beneath an avalanche of fear and misery. “How is that possible?” Quinn managed to get out. “I thought we were looking for a human. There were no vampires, other than the two of us, in the bar the night of the fight.”

Luther leaned back and rested his arm over his bent knees. “I have no idea.”

Despite herself, she felt her eyes flicker to Julian. He’d been the one saying the killer was a human, Melissa hadn’t seen who the killer was in her vision, and he’d been away while the girl had been changed. No matter how much she tried to push it away, she couldn’t stop the suspicion growing within her.

She hated it; she didn’t want to be skeptical of him. She’d trusted him with things she’d never trusted anyone with, but she couldn’t shake her growing uncertainty. His gaze slid to hers, and though she wanted to look away, she forced herself to meet it head on. She would know if he had done this, she would know if he was a killer, wouldn’t she?

His eyes burned into hers, she knew he wasn’t a mind reader, but she became certain he knew exactly what she was thinking. Hurt flickered through his eyes before he turned away from her. Standing there, she felt more exposed now than she had when she’d revealed her hideous secret to him. She had every right to doubt him; he hadn’t been here when this girl had been changed, and he
had
been a killer.
Then why do I feel so awful about it?
She wondered as he turned his back on her.

“Whoever is doing this is playing with us,” Julian said. “They sent this child here to prove that to us.”

“Why would they do that?” Melissa asked.

“Because they’re letting us know they’re here, and they’re coming for us.”

Quinn couldn’t tear her gaze away from his back. Who would be coming for them, vampires she wasn’t even sure existed, or
him
?

***

Julian’s mind spun as he stared at the ceiling and tried to sift through everything that had happened tonight. The killer was a vampire, but he
knew
there had only been two vampires in the bar the night of the fight. He also knew he wasn’t the vampire who had caused the events of last night to unfold and neither was Quinn. The only problem was Quinn didn’t know both of those truths. He’d seen the look in her eyes last night, the uncertainty, and the
doubt
. She was looking at him with far less certainty about his guilt than he was at her.

He’d been a heartless, murdering bastard once. He’d told her as much; he couldn’t blame her for doubting him now.

So then why did it make him feel like a razor was repeatedly slicing at his deadened heart? He’d loved two women in his life. One had created a monster when she’d turned him, and the other had helped him to become a man again. And now there was Quinn, a woman who affected him in ways that neither Victoria, his creator, nor Cassie, his savior, ever had.

She frustrated him and made him feel protective but even more, he realized Chris and Melissa had been right. He’d always known Victoria had never truly cared for him, and that Cassie’s heart could never be his. When Quinn looked at him, she didn’t see him as a toy she could play with and turn into a monster like Victoria had. She didn’t look at him like a friend and battle partner like Cassie did.

No, when Quinn looked at him she simply saw a man. When she’d kissed him, she’d done so with enthusiasm and an openness he’d never experienced before, or at least she had before the events of tonight had placed misgivings into her head.

Unlike Victoria, she had a soul to care for him with. Unlike Cassie, she had a heart that didn’t already belong to someone else. This wasn’t love between them, but damn if she hadn’t wormed her way into his heart with her unshakeable pride and determination, yet there was a vulnerability within her that touched a piece of his soul. He would do anything he could to keep her safe.

Rolling off the couch, he climbed to his feet and stretched his cramped muscles. This couch was far more pleasant than the other one, but a bed would be better. Preferably, the one in the room next door, but he had a saint’s chance in Hell of getting in there after last night. Walking over to the blinds, he pulled them up and stepped away from the fading rays of the sun spilling inside. Slowly, as the sun dipped lower toward the horizon, he moved his body in front of the window.

It felt as if sand from the ocean stuck to his skin and rubbed over his flesh when the sunlight spilled over his bare chest. The sensation was like multiple needles firing into his skin, his flesh prickled, but he could tolerate it. Warmth slid over his skin, his head tipped back as he savored in the heat encompassing his body.

He became so lost to the sensation, he didn’t realize Quinn had emerged from her room until he heard her startled gasp. He lowered his head and turned it toward her. Her hand covered her mouth; her golden eyes were wide as she stared at him. He should probably move away from the window, but his gaze remained riveted upon her slender frame. The oversized t-shirt she wore hung down to her knees and slipped off of one of her creamy shoulders. Her chocolate hair fell around her face and shoulders in tumbled disarray.

She was striking without meaning to be, enticing without even trying. His hands fisted at his sides; he fought the urge to go to her. She distrusted him, he reminded himself, and maybe she had a reason to, but it still cut him.

“How?” she whispered.

He stepped away from the sun’s rays. His skin had turned redder but the burn would fade soon. “Lots of time spent gradually exposing myself to it.”

She approached him and stopped at the edge of the sun’s rays. The yearning on her face pulled at his heart. As she stretched her fingers into the rays, smoke began to curl from her reddened flesh. With a hiss, she jerked her hand back and twisted the blistered skin over before her. Her eyes were questioning when they came back to his.

“It’s taken me two years and I’m still not able to stand it for very long, or directly,” he explained.

She continued to stare at her red, swollen hand, but the blisters had already healed. “How did you know you could do this?”

Julian dropped the blind back into place, he walked away from the window and around the couch to grab a t-shirt from the bag on the floor. He pulled the shirt over his head and pushed the hair back from his face before turning to face her. “One of The Elders was able to do it, and Devon can also withstand it.”

“Devon is Cassie’s husband?”

“I guess you could call him that.”

“It doesn’t bother him you’re in love with his wife?”

All of his amusement vanished as he turned to face her. A muscle in his cheek began to jump as his teeth clenched. “Cassie means a lot to me, she always will, but I’m not in love with her. Not anymore.”

“You’re not?” He believed he detected a hint of hope in her voice but he couldn’t be sure if it was actually there or if he just really wanted it to be.

“No, I’m not.” Her eyes flickered, but her face remained impassive. “I always knew there was never going to be a chance for us, but the past is the past, if we become bogged down in the things we did or who we were, we’d never be able to move on and actually live again.”

“It sounds rather sad,” she murmured.

“I suppose you could look at it that way. If it wasn’t for her though, I wouldn’t be here, I would still be a vicious killer.” Her gaze flickered away at his words her fingers played with the edges of her t-shirt. “You think I still might be.”

“I don’t know what to think.” Her eyes came back to his. He had to give her credit for not trying to deny it. “I don’t have your ability to see into people and know things. The killer is a vampire, and yet we were the only vampires in Clint’s the night of the fight.”

“You have instincts Quinn, what are they telling you?”

“That I should run as far from you as possible.”

Her blunt answer caused his eyebrow to rise. “Why?”

“Deep down I don’t believe you’re a killer, anymore, but you were once and you scare the crap out me.”

“I’m not frightening.”

“You’re terrifying. The way you make me feel, the things I’ve told you. You barged into my life, you tore it apart, and I don’t know what to think or do anymore.”

He’d been steadily approaching her while she spoke. She went to step away from him, but he clasped hold of her wrist. “Do you really find me terrifying?” he inquired as he tugged her up against his chest. Her eyes were the color of gold as she tilted her head back her lips parted. His fingers entwined with hers; he pulled her arm gently up and behind her back.

Excitement pulsed through his body; he took a step back, pressing her against the wall. “Julian.” The husky whisper of the word only electrified his skin further.

He rested his hand beside her head and bent to look into her eyes. He could feel the pulse of her power, the flow of it reminded him of the waves washing in and out on the shoreline. “Am I really that frightening, Quinn?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

He smiled at her. “If it makes you feel any better, I find you more than a little scary too.” Her eyes searched his face, his hand tightened on the fingers he held behind her back. “I’m not a killer, not anymore. Not of innocents anyway. You have to believe me.”

Until he said the words, he hadn’t realized how badly he’d needed to hear her say she believed him, that she had faith in him. He needed it more than he’d ever needed anything before in his life. Her eyes remained locked on his, the ebb and flow of her power notched up a level as she gave and took from him in equal measure. He could feel his own ability trying to break free, trying to search her mind in order to see what she felt for him, but he wouldn’t invade her in such a way.

“I believe you.” He continued to stare at her as he tried to process what she’d said. “I do.”

He wrapped his other arm around her waist and releasing the hand behind her back, he lifted her off the ground. A startled sound escaped her seconds before he claimed her mouth with his. Her lips parted to allow his tongue to sweep into her mouth, the minty taste of her toothpaste greeted him. A growl escaped him, his hand slid over the delicate contour of her cheek before sliding through her thick, silken hair. He’d kissed more women than he could count over the years, but she was the first one who made him feel as if he were drowning in the waves of pleasure she aroused in him.