The Cathedral of Cliffdale (12 page)

“No,” Quinn met his gaze levelly, her own tanzanite eyes gleaming.

“No?” he exclaimed, and Quinn took a deep breath.

“I appeal again to the council to be allowed a leave of absence from my duties. You all know my reasons.”

An interminable silence followed her words and all eyes at the table seemed to focus on her accusingly. Quinn sat up straight in her seat, refusing to be intimidated. Daniel’s reply was almost identical to the one he had given her two years ago.

“The Guardians need you, Quinn. You have an obligation to Summerfeld.”

“I have an obligation to my niece and nephew.” Daniel smiled at that and played his trump card.

“Tristan is their father. Tristan, what say you? Are you happy with our decision to keep the children safe?”

Quinn rounded on Tristan, her eyes beseeching him to support her – to advocate that she be allowed to raise Jack and Ava. Tristan met her eyes and a myriad of emotion passed between them. Quinn held her breath, but, as Tristan dropped his gaze, she knew what his answer would be.

“Yes,” he admitted, “I believe the children will be safe. I think Quinn should return,” his voice was stronger now although he refused to make eye contact with her.

“You son-of-a-bitch!” Quinn felt tears spring to her eyes. He had betrayed her again. She was surprised how much it hurt.

“That is enough, Quinn!” her father called angrily across the table. “Tristan just saved our lives while you sat around feeling sorry for yourself! He single-handedly brought down half a dozen vampires. He deserves your respect, if nothing else.”

Quinn did a double-take. Tristan must be exceptionally skilled to have taken down six vampires on his own, and more astonishing, he seemed to have earned even her father’s grudging respect. Tristan had always showed enormous potential – she recalled how impressed she had been when training him – and he had obviously fulfilled that potential. Nevertheless, Tristan’s prowess was not her concern and she got to her feet.

“I will not abandon them!” she yelled back, mortification making her even angrier as tears spilled unbidden from her eyes. Everything was falling apart. Desperately she cast her mind around for a reason, an excuse – anything she could use to convince them. “What about Avery’s crystal?” she snatched at the idea.

“What about it?” Daniel asked.

“If I can bring you Avery’s crystal, will you allow me this time with them?”

“Do you have the crystal?” her father demanded.

“No,” she stammered, brushing the tears angrily from her cheeks. “But I can find it. Avery left me a clue.” She glanced at Tristan, hoping to gain some hint from his expression as to whether he might know where it was. Instead, she saw an accepting smile cross his face.

“What clue?” Braddon persisted and now Quinn smiled, through her tears.

“I have no intention of telling you that.”

“Dammit, Quinn, this is important! You know how valuable that crystal is. We cannot let it fall into the wrong hands.” Her father was apoplectic with rage.

“As I said,” Quinn replied calmly, “I will find it. And when I do, I will return it to you; in exchange for the children. Do we have a deal?”

“We have a deal.” To her surprise, it was Daniel who answered – his face an inscrutable mask.

Isaiah stood abruptly.

“I believe we have company,” he announced. Everyone fell silent and in that moment, a timid tapping sounded on the Cathedral doors. Everyone except Quinn remained seated as Isaiah made his way to open them.

“Welcome,” his voice carried back to them, and even Quinn held her breath as the new Guardian stepped into the atrium, her green eyes wide with wonder.

There was a collective intake of breath as everyone at the table gaped at the child beside Isaiah. She could not be older than fifteen, her long red hair pulled back in a neat ponytail that trailed down her back.

“Monique?” Tristan’s question rang out in the deathly silence of the cavernous room.

Chapter 18

The young girl’s eyes found his face in a flash of recognition and she ran towards him.

“Uncle Tristan!” she cried, throwing herself at him and hugging him tightly.

“
Uncle
Tristan?” Quinn asked over her slim shoulders.

“My niece,” he explained, “my sister’s child.”

Tristan had only been a Guardian for a few years, and Quinn was well aware that he had living relatives remaining in the realm of man. What didn’t make sense was that this child had been branded a Guardian at such a young age. Isaiah had been eighteen when he was branded, the youngest ever. Daniel seemed to be thinking along the same lines, and he roused himself from the catharsis of shock, stepped forward and lifted Monique’s wrist. The white tattoo was clearly visible.

“It’s true, then,” Daniel dropped her arm.

“Of course it is,” Isaiah smiled fondly at the child.

“How did you get here?” Tristan asked. Quinn completely understood the question – how had Monique travelled to Summerfeld on her own. Monique seemed confused by the question as though the answer was obvious.

“My mom brought me,” she replied, as footsteps sounded on the flagstone outside and they all turned to watch as a white-faced, shaken, and utterly human woman stepped inside the Cliffdale Cathedral.

The only good thing to come out of a human entering this magical place, Quinn mused to herself, was the fact that everyone seemed to have forgotten the issue of her leaving to search for Avery’s crystal. Daniel was in an uproar – never in one thousand years had an ordinary human crossed the threshold of the Cathedral, unless they were a child of a fallen Guardian, such as Quinn and Avery had been. In fact, as a result of the protective enchantments, no ordinary human had been within a few miles of Cliffdale. They would never cross through the portal, which was disguised as a sheer cliff face. To step over it would be tantamount to suicide.

Monique’s mother, Camille, was understandably shaken. She was a widow; her husband had been a helicopter pilot and had been killed in a training operation when Monique was only a few years old. A few days ago, she explained, Monique had packed up her things and announced that she had a journey to make. Unbeknown to Camille, the appearance of the inexplicable tattoo on her daughter’s left wrist was not an act of teenage rebellion and coincided with Rourke’s death. Camille had forbidden Monique to leave the house, but she had not bargained on the 15-year-old’s determination. Twice, she had snuck out, and the second time Camille had tracked her down over three miles from home. When Camille mentioned therapy, Monique had reacted violently, which was so completely out of character for the kind, peaceful child that a terrified, Camille had consented to driving Monique where she wanted to go.

“We stopped to get this,” Monique announced proudly, pulling a jagged emerald fragment from the pocket of her jeans.

“Where did you...?” Tristan trailed off as Daniel shook his head. The crystal, which had been Rourke’s, now belonged to Monique and the secret of its previous location was hers alone.

“You should hide that,” Isaiah advised gently, “somewhere only you can find it.”

“What is going on?” Camille asked breathlessly. “We thought you were dead?” she eyed her brother reproachfully.

“I’m sorry, Cami.” Tristan was genuinely remorseful. He had no words to explain it to her; she was human after all, and the Guardians’ secrets were not his alone to share. It would be up Isaiah to decide just how much they would share with Camille.

“How did Monique find this place?” she continued, distraught, “I couldn’t even see it until we were practically on the doorstep and yet she knew exactly where to go.” She shuddered, recalling crossing through the portal.

“If you come with me,” Isaiah interrupted, “I will explain everything.” He indicated that they should follow him and proceeded through a side door that led to the archives room. Monique trotted along happily behind him, but Camille kept casting anxious glances over her shoulder. “If you could wait here, I will be back in a moment,” Isaiah offered Camille a chair, but she shook her head. Monique, however, collapsed casually onto a wing-backed armchair. 

Isaiah returned to the others.

“That child cannot be a Guardian,” Blair, typically, addressed the elephant in the room.

“She is destined,” Isaiah contradicted, “she can, and she will be.”

“She’s only a child!” Tristan let his own shock show now that his family were out of earshot. At his words, a jolt of intuition surged through Quinn so quickly that she couldn’t quite put her finger on it, and the moment she tried to recall it, it was gone.

“She will learn; I will tutor her myself,” Isaiah soothed Tristan’s fears, but Quinn noticed that his gaze slid over her knowingly, as if he knew what had just happened.

Quinn got to her feet, deciding it was time to go. She was being dragged slowly and reluctantly back into her old way of life. Her curiosity was piqued, and she found that she wanted to stay to see how things would play out. She needed to get out of here before it got to the point that she couldn’t.

“Quinn,” Daniel halted her as she pushed back her chair, “you have one month.” Quinn nodded – it was more than she had expected.

“In the meantime,” Isaiah added, “feel free to come and go as you please. Summerfeld is your home, too.”

Quinn thanked him, feeling better now that she was not technically in hiding, although she doubted she would return to the City before her month was up. Even then, if she had not found the crystal, she had no intention of following Daniel’s orders. She would not stop until she could make the trade and get Jack and Ava back. Even if she had to run again to buy herself more time.

“Isaiah,” she called, as the grey-haired Guardian turned to head back to his new charge, “may I have a word?” He nodded and she followed him across the room and through the door to the archives. Quinn smiled briefly at Monique and Camille, and Isaiah promised them again that he would be with them in just a few moments. He led Quinn through the outer record room and into a small, cosy office behind it, gesturing to her to sit.

“What is it, Quinn?” She took a deep breath, knowing that what she was about to ask was tantamount to treason.

“I want to know if there is anything in the Sacred Book about reversing the Guardian charm.” There; she had said it. Isaiah, to his credit, remained impassive; at least on the outside, but when he spoke, his words were laden with sorrow.

“Are you saying that you want to leave us?”

“Yes,” she could not lie to the Guardian she held the most respect for. He said nothing, but his amber eyes did not leave her face. “I need to break the tie,” she explained quickly, “I am tired of fighting it, but I will, for as long as it takes. Nobody seems to understand but I have got to protect Jack and Ava.
They
are my blood; I refuse to put Summerfeld before them.”

“The lives of the children are but a drop in the ocean in comparison to the eternity that we will protect the City, Quinn. I have lived a very long time and I too have been tempted – wondered if my life would be better served taking care of my own. I have been where you are now – and I have come to realise that nothing is more important than protecting the surviving members of the supernatural. They are the very last of their kind and our most precious treasures. We cannot lose sight of that. Without us, they would perish and be gone forever. Jack and Ava are important to you, I understand that. But they are not in any danger. They will be cared for and loved. And in nineteen years they will be free to lead their own lives. One day you will look back on this futile mission and realise the insignificance of your undertaking.”

As passionate as his words were, Quinn refused to be swayed.

“Is there a way?” she insisted.

“No,” he answered, almost too quickly.

“Isaiah?”

“I have spent a thousand years studying the Sacred Book, Quinn. There is nothing in it that mentions a way to undo the Guardian charm.” Quinn sensed his words held both truth and lies, but he met her gaze levelly.

“I want to see the book – I want to see for myself.”

“Be my guest,” he gestured towards the antechamber where the book was kept, “but do you honestly think that you will find something in there that I haven’t?”

“Maybe you overlooked something...” Quinn faltered. The truth was, she had seen the book herself, had studied it – not as intimately as Isaiah, but certainly more than any other Guardian. And she had never come across anything that even remotely hinted at undoing the Guardian charm.

“Perhaps,” Isaiah smiled indulgently, “but I must get back to Monique and her mother. Feel free to take as much time as you need.”  With that, he stood and headed out of the door, back to Monique and her mother, leaving Quinn with the disturbing feeling that for the first time he was not being entirely honest with her.

Quinn said a very curt goodbye to the others, but she did hug Piper before she left.

“I’m so sorry... about Rourke.”

Piper smiled tearfully, pursing her lips to keep from crying. Piper had been Quinn’s closest Guardian friend after Avery, and she had turned to Piper for companionship when Avery and Tristan had started their romance. Without Piper, Quinn doubted she would have survived the first few months of their relationship. Piper had kept Quinn’s confidence – she had never enlightened Avery as to how Quinn really felt, or how serious Quinn and Tristan’s relationship had been.

“I’ve missed you,” Piper murmured and Quinn felt a stab of guilt. Piper had been there for her through her loss, and now Piper was the one who had lost someone and Quinn was deserting her. Piper, Quinn and Blair were the only female guardians and Blair was hardly someone who Piper could confide in. Maybe having Monique join the Guardians would give Piper someone to get close to. Despite her youth, Monique would grow up quickly in this world, and Piper’s sweet, sensitive nature was perfectly suited to help her adjust.

“I’m so sorry,” Quinn repeated, but this time the apology was for her own selfish actions.

“I understand,” Piper assured her, squeezing her hand.

“Piper,” Quinn tried her last hand, “the twins...?”

“I’m sorry,” Piper was apologising now, “I couldn’t tell you anything even if I wanted to. I don’t know where they are.”

“But you could trace them?”

“Maybe,” Piper admitted, “but I won’t.”

Quinn couldn’t blame her friend – her loyalty to Summerfeld came first, as it should – but her words drove home the fact that Quinn was well and truly on her own.

Tristan approached her as she reached the double doors.

“Quinn...” he trailed off and she kept her eyes on the expanse of wood. She had learned some things about Tristan over the past few hours that she hadn’t yet processed. She needed time to think. She waited a few seconds but he said nothing more, and, with one swift push, the doors flew open and she walked out into the dark night.

Daniel watched her go, a sombre expression on his tanned face. Brushing away a stray strand of sandy hair that had escaped his ponytail holder, he beckoned Liam and Blair over.

“Follow her,” he instructed, “find out what she knows. I want that crystal.”

Daniel Kaiser had lived two lives in his one thousand years. The first half had been spent with Emily – his soul mate. Emily had been a Guardian too for five hundred years until she was struck down by the vampires who had ripped her crystal from her bloodstained neck; the same crystal that had been passed to Emily’s replacement; and then to Quinn Harden.

A vampire drinking the blood of a Guardian was the most depraved, abominable sin, and every Guardian’s worst nightmare. A Guardian’s blood contained trace elements of Fae magic and, by drinking their blood, a vampire became more powerful, more deadly than ever. Until the blood had worked its way out of the vampire’s system, a Guardian would have no chance of defeating it and, worse still, a Hunter could not track a vampire with Guardian blood in its system.

Which was why it had taken so long to find Emily’s killers. They had fed on her until barely a drop of blood remained in her body, subjecting her to the most foul, degrading act of depravity and stripping away her dignity in the process. Her blood running through their veins acted as a cloak concealing them from Daniel and the other Hunters who had searched desperately, without success, until Emily’s blood had faded from their systems. It was different for the Hunters. If bitten, which was a rare feat for the vampires, they could track the vampire through their own blood. Painful, but necessary. It was one of the many skills that the Hunters possessed over the ordinary Guardians.

When Daniel and the others had found Emily’s broken body, such was the Hunters’ rage that their combined fury had culminated in a Slayer emerging. Daniel had never confided in the Guardians that it had been Isaiah who had torn that village apart, and, as the older Hunters fell, the secret had died along with them, until only Daniel and Isaiah himself knew the truth. The burden of the Slayer is hard enough for any Guardian to bear, but for one as peaceful as Isaiah it was that much worse. That night of bloodshed had been his last foray into man’s realm. Afterwards he had sought the sanctuary of the Cathedral, and Daniel had never pressed him to return. A Slayer’s instinct to destroy vampires is all-encompassing, completely overpowering every other human emotion and it would have destroyed Isaiah. Inside the Cathedral’s charmed walls Isaiah could not sense vampires at all and he could live in peace. There would never be another Slayer - not as long as Isaiah lived, but this was a secret known only to the two of them.