Authors: Amanda Ashley
Quinn's Lady (9 page)
Freyja’s rough tongue on Seleena’s cheek woke her. It was a common occurrence. Lingering in bed, one hand scratching the cat’s ears, she replayed the events of the night before -- the sexual tension between herself and Quinn, the longing in his eyes when he kissed her, the yearning in his voice when he whispered he just wanted to hold her. He was lonely, she thought, and in that moment, she realized that she, too, was lonely, and had been for a long time, though she had never admitted it.
Where was he now? Was he sleeping in one of the other bedrooms? She was sorely tempted to slip out of her nightgown and into his bed.
As if reading her wayward thoughts, Freyja arched her back and hissed.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to do it. But, oh, Freyja, I want him so desperately!”
The cat stared at her through bright yellow eyes. Then, with an angry flick of her tail, she jumped off the mattress.
With a sigh, Seleena stepped into her slippers, pulled on her robe, and went downstairs to let the cat out.
#
A stirring in the air, the scent of sleep-warm skin, roused Quinn from the deep abyss that trapped him while he slept. While it was not as all-consuming as a vampire’s normal daytime rest, it was not the kind of sleep mortals enjoyed. It was, he thought, like death. He didn’t toss and turn. He didn’t dream.
Without conscious thought, he rose and followed the sound of her footsteps down the winding stairway.
He paused on the last step, watching the gentle sway of her hips as she followed the cat to the front door. Her hair tumbled down her back in soft reddish-brown waves.
The cat meowed loudly when she lifted the latch, then bolted outside.
Seleena stood in the doorway, one hand braced on the jamb.
Quinn moved up behind her. A soft breeze carried the scent of grass and earth, of trees and flowers.
And vampire.
He cursed under his breath.
Hearing him, Seleena whirled around, her expression wary. “What’s wrong?”
“Serepta. She’s been here.”
Seleena didn’t ask how he knew. He watched her face pale as she pressed a hand to her heart. “I didn’t think she would find us so soon.”
“It’s the blood bond between us. There’s no way to break it.”
Except death
,
his or hers.
Freyja darted into the house as if she, too, had caught a whiff of something unpleasant.
Lips compressed, Seleena closed the door. As a precaution, she rescinded Serepta’s invitation and re-established the wards. “Was she alone?” It was common knowledge that vampires sometimes mesmerized mortals to do their bidding because humans could cross thresholds warded against the undead.
“As near as I can tell.”
“I hate this! No matter what she is, what she’s become, she’s my daughter and I love her!” Tears sparkled in her eyes. “I don’t want to see her destroyed. I can’t go through that again. And yet there doesn’t seem to be any other alternative.”
Filled with a sudden, unexpected compassion, Quinn gathered Seleena into his arms. With a sob, she pressed her face against his shoulder and wept.
Unable to think of anything he could say to comfort her, he stroked her back, brushed feather-light kisses to the top of her head. She felt so small in his embrace, fragile, and oh, so vulnerable.
She cried until she had no tears left. Stepping away, she pulled a lace-edged hanky from her robe’s pocket and dried her eyes. “Crying never solved anything,” she muttered irritably.
“True, but it usually makes you feel better.”
“How would you know? I’ll bet you’ve never shed a tear in your life.”
“You think not?”
“Have you?”
“Well, only once,” he admitted. “When my mother died.” It was a day he would never forget. It had been raining. The roof of the squalid shack they lived in leaked like a sieve. He stood at his mother’s bedside, clutching her hand as she writhed helplessly on the bed. Hour after hour, he stayed at her side, wiping the sweat from her brow, sometimes massaging her back, trying not to hear her screams as her body labored to expel the child. His hands had been swollen and sore by the time the infant slid into the world in a gush of blood and water. He washed the baby up as best he could, wrapped it in a towel that was none too clean, held it up so his mother could see it. She smiled faintly. Closed her eyes. And died. The infant -- a girl --passed away an hour later. Surely a blessing, he thought later, when he was older.
Seleena laid a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“It was a long time ago.”
She nodded. “I was on my way to make breakfast. Will you join me?”
“Sure.”
He followed her downstairs to the kitchen, took a place at the table while she found a frying pan, pulled eggs and butter and milk from the refrigeration unit. He enjoyed watched her. She hummed softly as she worked.
“Would you like something to eat?” she asked.
“No, I think I’ll go back to bed for a while. Wanna come with me?”
“Not this time.” He was, she thought, the most exasperating man she had ever known.
With a woeful grin, he strolled out of the room. She had made it possible for him to be awake during the day, but it seemed he still preferred the night. Not that she could blame him. Spell or not, it wasn’t normal for him to be awake when the sun was shining.
Seleena couldn’t help admiring his backside as he walked away. He was the most remarkable looking man she had ever seen. Maybe she should have taken him up on his offer.
Humming softly, she bustled about the kitchen. She knew Quinn thought it odd that she didn’t use her magic for simple day-to-day tasks, but she enjoyed cooking her meals and cleaning her house, pulling the weeds in the garden.
Breakfast was a simple affair - eggs and buttered toast washed down by a cup of hot chocolate. After tidying the kitchen, she climbed the stairs, planning her day as she went, though there was little to do other than shower and dress. Perhaps she would go through the grimoire again.
On her way to her room, she paused at Quinn’s room door, sorely tempted to peek inside. To crawl into bed beside him. To run her fingertips over the hard expanse of his chest, his shoulders, his belly ridged with muscle. To cover his mouth with her own.
Annoyed with her wayward thoughts, she hurried into her own room and shut the door.
#
Quinn woke an hour before sunset. He knew immediately what time it was, that Seleena had just finished dinner, that Freyja was asleep in front of the fireplace.
Rising, he showered and combed his hair before making his way down to the kitchen. Seleena stood at the counter, wiping her hands on a towel.
She looked up, a smile curving her lips when she saw him. “Did you sleep well?”
He shrugged. “It’s not really sleep.”
Draping the towel over the back of a chair, she asked, “Are you hungry?”
His gaze settled on her throat, on the pulse beating there, slow and steady.
Seleena took a wary step backward. She really needed to quit asking him that question. “Stop looking at me like a hungry cat in front of a bowl of cream.”
“Sorry,” he said, stifling a grin. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Promise you won’t take it the wrong way, or get upset?”
She folded her arms over her chest. “I can’t promise that until I hear the question.”
He grunted softly. “Would your blood really make me sick?”
She hesitated for several moments, as if weighing her answer, then shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. I was taught that witch blood made vampires violently ill. But I have no personal knowledge of such a thing. Better safe than sorry, though.”
“I know a way to find out.”
She knew what he meant. There was no mistaking the faint hint of red in his eyes. Hands clenched, she said, “I am
not
prey.”
“I never said you were.”
“But you want to feed on me!”
“No. No. I just want a taste. A sip, no more.”
“Why? A sip will hardly satisfy your hunger.”
“I’m not asking to make a meal of you. I just need a taste.” He held up a hand when he saw the question in her eyes. “I don’t know why. Sure, I’m a vampire. Drinking blood is what I do. But it’s more than that.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Me, either,” he admitted with a rueful smile. “I just feel like tasting you is something I need to do.’
“It would create a bond between us, wouldn’t it?” she asked. “The same kind that exists between you and Serepta.”
“Yeah.”
“Let me think about it for a little while. I want to search the grimoire some more.”
“I don’t know why. I think it’s a lost cause.”
“Maybe, but it will give me something to do.” Something to take my mind off giving you a taste of my blood.
#
Quinn decided to tour the grounds while Seleena explored the pages of the old book. The house glowed in the moonlight like a jewel set against green velvet. Trees abounded, as did wildflowers and ferns. He felt the force of Nardik’s spell as he strolled around the house. Fortunately, it didn’t have any effect on him.
Serepta had been here last night. A faint trace of her scent still lingered in the air. Whatever enchantment Nardik had conjured at the bottom of the hill hadn’t kept her away. What about the other spell, Quinn wondered. The one that was supposed to make unwanted intruders forget why they came? Had that one worked?
Or would she be back again tonight?
On that unpleasant thought, he returned to the house.
Seleena was still bent over the grimoire when Quinn returned to the house. He paused a moment to appreciate the way the light of the fire played over her face and hair, making her look almost otherworldly. And more desirable than ever. “Find anything useful?” he asked.
She didn’t look up. “I’m not sure. I found something that’s going to make you happy, but I’m not sure it will work because it’s got nothing to do with tattoos.”
“So, what is it about?”
“Vampires. Like I told you this morning, I was taught that vampires shunned witch blood because it made them violently ill.” Leaning forward, she tapped her forefinger on a passage of text. “But it says here that the blood of an ancient witch will strengthen a vampire’s power.”
“Seems like vampires would know that,” he remarked, sitting beside her on the sofa.
Seleena nodded. “Perhaps it was the witches themselves who spread the rumor about witch blood being poison. I mean, if vampires knew our blood would strengthen them….”
“They’d be hunting you for your blood.”
“Exactly. But there’s more, and this is the important part. It says here that the blood of an ancient witch can negate the forces of dark magic .”
“So, you’re saying that your blood might counteract Serepta’s magic?”
“Possibly.”
Quinn’s gaze moved to Seleena’s throat. “You said the dragon holds some of your magic, as well as Nardik’s.”
“Yes.”
“Wouldn’t it neutralize that, as well?”
She considered that a moment, then said, “In all likelihood, I imagine it would.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“I’m not sure, but I don’t know of any way to separate my magic and Nardik’s from hers.”
“I don’t suppose you found anything in there that tells how to make a vampire human again? Anything to indicate it’s possible?”
“No.” Rising, she closed the book. “I’m afraid not.”
“Well, thanks for trying. Have you made a decision about what we talked about earlier?”
She shivered when his gaze met hers. “You mean letting you taste my blood?”
“Yeah.”
“Will it hurt?”
“No.”
“What if you can’t stop?”
He jerked his chin at the silver dagger on the table beside the grimoire. “Just stick that in me.”
Seleena stared at him in horror. “I couldn’t!”
“It won’t kill me, but it’ll get my attention. Come on, Red, where’s your spirit of adventure?”
She murmured a few words and the knife came to her hand.
“Damn, girl, that’s a Hel of a trick.”
“Just remember, there’s more where that came from.”
“I won’t forget.” Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her lightly. “Relax, darlin’,” he murmured.
Relax? How was she going to relax when he was looking at her like that, when his lips were moving over hers, when her whole body was inclining toward his. He kissed her again, her cheeks, her neck, until she forgot everything but the pleasure of being in his arms, the wonder of his kisses.
The prick of his fangs came as a surprise. As he had promised, it wasn’t painful, just unexpected, and like nothing she had ever experienced before. It was surprisingly pleasant and over too soon.
She blinked up at him several times before asking, “Are you all right? How do you feel?’
“Never better.”
She glanced at his shoulder. “What about the tattoo? Does it feel any different?”
With a shake of his head, Quinn peeled off his shirt. And frowned. The dragon appeared to be bigger, the scales blacker, brighter, than before. Looking up, he said, “That can’t be good,” as he met Seleena’s gaze.
She bit down on her lower lip. Then, watching Quinn’s face, she said, “Serepta.”
He grimaced as the dragon bit him.
“It didn’t help, did it?”
“Well, it’s no worse than it was.”
“Does it only bite you when someone mentions her name?”
“Yeah.”
Seleena frowned. “I don’t understand that. You would think the dragon would object when someone mentioned my name. Or Nardik’s. Or even yours. But not hers. She’s the one who cast the spell. It just doesn’t make sense.”
“Hel, none of this makes sense,” Quinn muttered. Little had made sense since Seleena released him from that damn statue.
“I’m sorry.”
“Hey, it’s not your fault.”
“She’s my daughter. I can’t help feeling a little bit responsible.”
“Forget about it.”
Seleena nodded. If only she could, she thought sadly. There was much in her past she wished to forget. Most of all, she wished she could forget that, willing or not, Quinn had once been her daughter’s lover.
