Quinn's Undying Rose (Scanguards Vampires #6) (6 page)

Quinn pulled his prodigy closer. “I can take care of him.”

Zane raised his hands in capitulation. “Didn’t mean to . . . ” His voice died. “I know you can do it.” Then he rose to his feet and motioned to Amaury and Cain.

“The tow truck should be here in a few minutes. If you need anything else . . . ”

Amaury waved him off. “Go. We’ll take care of this.”

With Oliver in his arms, Quinn rose, accepting Zane’s strong arm in the process. He briefly nodded his head at his two colleagues. “Thanks, Amaury, Cain.”

“See you at the house when we’re done here,” Amaury replied as he braced his body against the crane, Cain at his side.

Slowly, Quinn turned, the weight of Oliver’s body suddenly weighing him down. His knees buckled. If Zane hadn’t grabbed his elbow and propped him up, he would have collapsed.

The realization of what kind of life he’d imposed on the young man in his arms suddenly crashed in over him.

“Oh, God, what have I done?” he murmured.

6

“You need to feed.”

Quinn whipped his head toward Samson, who had quietly entered the guestroom. He stared at his boss, but barely saw his tall and dark features. Once more, he blinked, trying to wipe the remainder of blood from his eyes. He hadn’t even cleaned up yet and still wore his torn clothes. The dirt of the accident site still clung to his skin and clothes.

He’d been sitting at Oliver’s bedside for the last few hours, waiting for a sign that the kid would make it. His eyes had turned black, giving Quinn hope that things would turn out all right.

“Not now,” he answered.

How could he think of himself now when Oliver needed him?

Samson stepped closer. “You shouldn’t blame yourself.”

Quinn expelled a bitter laugh. “And why not? Didn’t Zane tell you what happened? Didn’t he explain?”

His boss nodded. “It was Oliver’s responsibility to drive. Just because the two of you talked and joked, doesn’t mean it’s your fault.”

“I distracted him.” How could Samson not see that?

“Why are you doing this to yourself?”

“Doing what?”

Samson drew closer, bringing his over-six-foot fame within inches of Quinn. “Don’t play stupid with me! I know you’re not. You’re smarter than the rest of them, so what are you playing at?”

“I’m not.” Rage boiled up in Quinn. He wanted to be left alone with his grief, his self-pity, his memories.

“You selfish bastard!” Samson accused him. “You’re only thinking of yourself. Why am I even surprised?”

Quinn shot up from his seat. “What the fuck? How dare you? I’m only thinking of Oliver!”

His boss sneered. “No, you’re thinking of yourself, of how this will change your life! Suck it up and don’t wallow in self-pity!”

Even though he’d hit a nerve, Quinn wasn’t ready to cave. Samson had no idea what was going on inside of him, and he wasn’t one to share his innermost self. “Keep out of it! You might be my boss, but we both know I don’t need this job!”

“Oh, ready to quit? Wanna throw it all in because it’s getting too difficult? Are we interfering with your playboy life?” Samson hissed.

“How I conduct my life is none of your fucking business!”

Samson narrowed his eyes. “Is that what you’re gonna tell Oliver when he wakes up?”

“What do you want from me?” Quinn ran a shaky hand through his hair, encountering a cluster of dried blood in the process. Shit, he was in a terrible state and in no mood to carry on this conversation.

“I want you to tell me what you’re gonna do about Oliver.”

When he locked eyes with Samson, he saw worry in them. But before he could say anything, his boss continued, “If you can’t handle it, I’ll act as his sire. After all, he’s been with me for—”

“No!” Quinn interrupted. “He’s my responsibility.” Taking a deep breath, he tried to slow his heartbeat, tried to calm himself. “I’m sorry, Samson. I know what Oliver means to you. You lost your assistant, your right hand.”

Samson let out a surprised gasp. “You think this is about me?” He shook his dark hair then rubbed his neck. “It was only a matter of time until this happened. I knew one day Oliver would ask for this. I’ve been grooming him for it. Of all the humans I know, he’s the best prepared for a turning. But that doesn’t mean, he won’t need your help to adjust.”

Quinn let the words sink in. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, pushing back the memories of a happier time. A time long gone. “Seeing our life from the outside is one thing, living it is another.”

Samson motioned his head toward the bed, where Oliver still lay motionless. “He knows that.” Then he pinned Quinn with a stare. “But do you?”

Quinn didn’t flinch. “I know what’s expected of me.” He wouldn’t shirk his duty. “You can count on me.”

“Good. Now go and take a shower. You look like hell. You smell even worse.”

“But, Oliver . . . ”

Samson waved him off. “I’ll sit with him. Go.”

Quinn turned and walked to the door.

“And Quinn . . . ”

He paused without turning. “Yes?”

“I always thought you didn’t care about anybody. Guess I was wrong.”

Quinn swallowed, his throat dry as sandpaper. Had somebody finally figured him out?

Without another word, he left the room and closed the door behind him, wishing he could close the door to his past just as easily. Maybe then he would be able to start living again.

***

As soon as Quinn stepped out of the spare bathroom, freshly showered and wearing clothes Samson had lent him, he headed for the stairs to the upper floor, wanting to rejoin Oliver. But Zane blocked his path, holding out a cell phone to him.

“Gabriel wants to talk to you.”

Quinn hadn’t even noticed that Gabriel wasn’t with the rest of the Scanguards gang, who lingered in the living room, anxiously waiting for any developments in Oliver’s condition.

“Not now. I’m busy.”

He tried to brush past him, but Zane didn’t budge. “He said it’s important.”

Impatiently, he yanked the phone from Zane’s hand and brought it to his ear. “What?”

“I need to see you. Now,” Gabriel answered.

“I can’t. Whatever it is, it’ll have to wait.”

Gabriel sighed. “I’m sorry to have to do this at a time like this, but . . . ”

“I said I can’t.” He pressed the disconnect button and tossed the phone back at Zane.

By the time he’d made it up to the second floor, the cell phone rang again. Behind him, he heard Zane’s footsteps following him, then his hand clamping over his shoulder.

“I suggest you take the call,” Zane warned.

Pressing his lips into a tight line, he snatched the phone and answered the call. “What the fuck is so important?”

“I’m going to cut you some slack right now, because of what’s happened, but another sign of insubordination, and I’m going to have your hide!” Gabriel said in a calm voice that betrayed the seriousness of his words.

Shit, did everybody have it in for him tonight?

“Do I have your attention now?”

Quinn cleared his throat. “Yes.”

“Good. I have an assignment that just came in. You were requested especially.”

“I don’t have time for an assignment.” Oliver needed him now.

“You’ll be interested in this one. I get the feeling that there’s something odd about it. It’s worth checking it out. The woman says you’re old friends and that you owe her a debt. Yet at the same time she’s offering an outrageous amount of money to secure our—and in particular, your—services.”

Quinn’s ears perked up. “I don’t owe anybody anything. Who is she?” He wasn’t aware of any outstanding debt or favor. And certainly not one he owed a woman. He was always careful not to leave any loose ends.

“Her name is Rose Haverford. She . . . ”

But Quinn didn’t hear the rest of Gabriel’s words, because blood suddenly thundered through is head, rushing past his ears like a freight train barreling through a quiet countryside. It drowned out all other noise.

Rose.

A voice from the grave. His Rose.

“Is she still there?”

“Yes, she’s in my office, waiting.”

“Keep her occupied. Make sure you’re armed. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

He disconnected the call before Gabriel had a chance to say anything else. As he pressed the phone back into Zane’s hand, his friend stared at him.

“Something wrong?”

Quinn nodded. Everything was wrong.

“She’s dead, long dead.”

Zane gave him a confused look, but Quinn brushed past him and rushed down the stairs and out the door without another word.

This imposter would have to pay for the cruel joke she was playing on him.

7

Rose knew she had to be very careful. The wrong word and she would be toast. The less any of the Scanguards people knew, the better. Particularly Quinn. He could never find out what had really happened two hundred years ago, or he would never help her save Blake.

Nor was he allowed to find out what Keegan really wanted, not yet anyway. First she had to figure out which side he stood on: would he help her protect what she had stolen, or would he simply want it to attain power himself by using it? The Quinn she knew from when she was human would have never wanted that kind of power, but what about the vampire he was now?

Rose looked around the comfortable office, waiting for Gabriel to return. He hadn’t wanted to make the phone call in front of her, which she couldn’t really blame him for.

Despite the gruesome scar on his face, he had appeared very civilized, polite even. It could be a trick of course, just as Keegan’s polished behavior had simply been a façade. Beneath it, he had hidden his brutality.

She was sick of violent men. They had crossed her long life too many times. This time she would be more careful. She couldn’t afford to trust the wrong man again. There was too much at stake. Besides, she wasn’t here to rekindle her relationship with Quinn. All she wanted from him was his help in protecting Blake. Once he was out of danger, she would disappear again.

Staying away from Quinn was the only way to protect her secret, because if he ever found out what she had done two centuries ago, he would kill her.

“Excuse the delay,” Gabriel’s voice came from behind her.

Pure instinct made her shoot up from her chair and reach into the inside pocket of her leather jacket. She stopped herself short of pulling out the silver blade she was hiding there.

Gabriel broke his stride and came to an abrupt halt, his eyes narrowing instantly. He had perceived her threat.

Not breaking eye contact, she slowly pulled her hand from her jacket, leaving the knife where it was. Even more slowly, she sat back down.

“I’m sorry,” she purred, trying to play down her action. “I get startled easily.”

He nodded before moving back to his own chair and sitting down behind the desk once more.

“Quinn will be here in a few minutes.”

At the sound of his name, a tingling danced down her spine. Only a few more minutes and she would see him again. Would he have the same effect on her as he had then? Would her knees grow weak at the sight of him? Would her stomach turn into a nesting ground for butterflies?

“Why don’t we talk about the assignment in the meantime? I’m afraid you’ve given me very little information so far.”

“It’s a very delicate matter,” she insisted.

“You said that earlier. But we need a little more than that.”

Rose pushed a strand of her long blond hair behind her shoulder. “Doesn’t a million dollars suffice to douse your curiosity? I’m sure you don’t get offered that kind of fee every day.”

“On the contrary, somebody offering that kind of money always arouses my curiosity.”

Gabriel leaned back, giving a relaxed impression, but she wasn’t fooled. Underneath the calm exterior, he was watching her closely. Just as she was watching him.

“I prefer to defer disclosing the details until Quinn is here. I hate having to tell the same story twice.” Besides, the more often she had to tell it, the more likely she would trip up and get caught in her own web of lies.

“As you wish.” Gabriel straightened in his chair, a sign she interpreted as displeasure. “So, how long have you known Quinn?”

“That’s irrelevant.” Her relationship to Quinn wasn’t up for discussion.

“If you do truly know him . . . ” he insinuated. Gabriel leaned forward.

She wouldn’t take the bait. If he wanted to know anything about her and Quinn, he could try his luck with Quinn. Maybe he would be more forthcoming. But she would remain tightlipped. Some things didn’t need to be dredged up again. Her ill-fated relationship with the father of her daughter was one of those things.

It would be hard enough having to see him again.

A sound at the door made her whip her head around.

Oh, God, it would be harder than she thought.

Quinn was as handsome as he’d ever been. His blond hair seemed a shade darker, but maybe it was simply the way the light reflected on it. His hazel eyes appeared more alert and drained of the innocence that had inhabited them so many decades ago. While his body hadn’t aged, she realized that his mind had. There was hardness in him now. The carefree young man she’d known, the one who’d gone off to war to make a name for himself, was gone.

Yet at the same time, he was still the same. Still the man she’d loved so fiercely, with all her heart and soul. The man she’d given her body to more freely than she’d done ever since. The man she’d called husband for one night.

Rose only noticed that she’d risen when she felt her knees wobble and had to reach for the backrest of her chair to steady herself. Had Quinn noticed? Had he seen her weakness?

She searched his eyes, looking for a sign of what was going on inside him. Did he feel what she felt?

She wanted to turn away, wanted to hide from him, from the feelings that welled up in his presence. But turning away would expose her even more. She couldn’t allow him to detect her vulnerability.

She opened her lips, wanting to issue a greeting, something business like, but her dry throat was incapable of producing a single sound.