Under the Moon (40 page)

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Authors: Natalie J. Damschroder

Tags: #paranormal romance, #under the moon, #urban fantasy, #goddesses, #gods, #natalie damscroder

BOOK: Under the Moon
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“Oh, no.” A sob escaped her. “I’m so sorry, Marley. It’s my fault,” she whispered, stroking her sister’s dark hair off her forehead. “Come on, sweetie,” she said louder. “Wake up.”

Marley’s eyelids fluttered. Her eyes, pale lavender before from the initial bestowment, were now almost white, the darker purple flecks in the irises reminding Quinn of Easter eggs. She groaned and rolled to her side. “Oh, Quinn, I’m such an idiot.”

“Take it easy.”

“I’m okay. Just weak.” She let Quinn help her to her feet. “I didn’t let him in, I swear.”

Quinn wondered why Marley would assume that was what she thought. “What happened?”

“I heard the elevator and was going to check through the peephole to see if it was room service. But the door opened by itself.” She stared at Quinn, eyes wide, disconcerting in their lack of color combined with fear and anxiety. “I didn’t let him in,” she repeated. “I didn’t tell him where we are.”

The elevator dinged, and adrenaline rushed through Quinn. “We don’t have time to be sorry. Go get our stuff. Get to the window with the fire escape.” She watched through the peephole as police officers and what looked like the hotel manager dashed past. They hadn’t pinpointed the gunshots yet.

“We’ve got to get out of here.” Hurrying across the room, she swept her hand over Sam to remove all the glass covering him, then checked his spine first. Nothing was broken, so she nodded to Nick to pick him up.

“Are you shittin’ me? The guy weighs more than I do. He’s four inches taller.” He shut up when Quinn dropped her bathrobe and pulled on Anson’s coat, buttoning it and tightening the belt.

“Just go, Nick.”

Without another word he bent and lifted Sam in a fireman’s carry. Marley beckoned from the open window, and he staggered over. Quinn grabbed Sam’s computer bag and Nick’s weapon-filled duffel from the love seat on her way to the fire escape. They were heavy enough that she had to drag them across the floor. She bent to crisscross the straps across her body. That balanced the weight, but only if she stood upright.

Voices in the hall grew louder. The police were coming. Too quickly, someone pounded on their door. She gripped the sides of the window and pushed one leg through—careful to keep the coat between her naked body and the cold, hard-edged windowsill—then heaved herself onto the fire escape to follow the others to the alley below. She cursed as the bags kept catching between the rails, but she didn’t have time to stop and levitate the bags to the ground. By the time she reached the bottom of the ladder, she was sweating.

“Any clue where valet parking is in this place?” Nick asked her. He’d let Sam down onto his feet but supported his full weight with Sam’s arm across his shoulder and his own arm around Sam’s waist. They’d never be able to drag him into the underground parking area unseen, even if she cloaked them.

She dropped the bags to the ground. “Give me the keys. You wait here.”

Nick scowled but complied. Marley made to follow Quinn, who put up her hand to stop her.

“No,” Quinn said. “Stay here. Help Nick support Sam and make it look like he’s drunk if anyone shows up.”

“You doing okay?” Nick asked her.

She’d used a lot of power, but adrenaline seemed to be making up for it. She had energy, even if she couldn’t draw as easily as she had in the apartment. As for the rest—well, if she kept them moving, she could keep from wallowing in guilt long enough to rectify everything.

“Yep,” she told Nick.

“You got a plan?”

“Nick, let me
go!
But yes, I have a plan.” She hurried down the alley to the rear of the building. The dim, dingy entrance to the concrete garage was a far cry from the elegant front entryway. Quinn kept to the shadows on the far side of the entrance from the booth, where two attendants bent over something below the Plexiglas windows. A valet walking up the incline toward the front of the building bounced in time to the music on his headphones and never turned her way.

Quinn circled three levels, cursing the whole time, until she found Nick’s car. She didn’t bother trying to mask the growl of the engine, hoping the booth attendants would think a valet was retrieving it.

The back exit had a gate, and she didn’t want to damage it or the car, nor did she have ID on her or any proof that she owned the vehicle, since she didn’t. So she zoomed out the open front entrance and turned right into traffic, then right again, the wrong way down the alley, before anyone could approach or stop her. Nick stood as she’d left him, Sam slung across his shoulders—except he was on his other side. Marley stood looking down at a prone figure, rolling something in her hand. A crystal?

Quinn stopped with a screech next to them and jumped out.

“What happened?”

“He came out of nowhere.” Nick dragged Sam toward the passenger side. Quinn hurried around to open the door and pull the seat forward. While Nick shoved Sam into the back, she dashed around again and got back behind the wheel. Marley crawled in after Sam and tried to straighten out his legs. Her movements were jerky, and Quinn saw tear tracks on her face. The crystal, or whatever had been in her hand, was gone.

“Who is he? The guy on the ground?”

“Anson’s friend,” Marley answered without looking up at her. “He came to the inn a few times. He ran down the alley with a gun. I tried…I tried…”

Nick slammed the door and Quinn took off. He gave her a significant look and said, “I saw him coming, dropped Sam, and popped him before he could get a shot off.”

Marley whimpered. “He leeched me. I couldn’t stop the guy in the alley. Oh, Quinn.” She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

Quinn didn’t know what to do. She hadn’t realized Marley wasn’t aware of what Anson had done to her. They were in the middle of heavy downtown traffic now and she couldn’t stop, especially when Anson was still sending people after them. Not to mention the police, who’d find the aftermath of their fight and maybe even the slugs Nick had shot at Anson. Even if Quinn was in a position to comfort her sister right now, there was nothing to say that would help.

Still, she had to try. “I’m sorry, Marley. It’s my fault. I should have anticipated he’d be able to track us that easily.”

“No.” Marley straightened. “I’m the one who gave him the ability to do this. I’ve been afraid it would happen. But it’s my punishment. I’ll accept it. Eventually,” she added in a whisper. “Now tell us your plan.”

Quinn gained more respect for Marley. Finally, she was accepting the truth and acting like more than a victim—ironically just as she had become a real one.

“Okay, first we need an empty building. Something in a deserted area, if we can find one.”

Sam groaned and shifted in the backseat. “Oh, man. I’m sick of being knocked unconscious.”

Nick twisted in his seat. “Double vision, headache, nausea?”

“No. I don’t know. Give me a minute.”

Stopped at a light, Quinn watched in the rearview mirror as Sam squeezed his eyes closed, then opened them wide. But when those eyes met hers in the mirror, they were clear and even. He winced, stretching his neck and shoulders, but his movements became more limber and controlled.

“I feel like I’ve been hauled down a fire escape or something.”

The silence rang in the car.

“Seriously? You hauled me down a fire escape?” He lifted his pant leg and touched something on his shin. “Weren’t very gentle about it, were you?” he accused Nick, who faced forward.

“You’re welcome. Go on with your plan,” he said to Quinn.

“Sam, did you get to do any of the research I wanted?”

“Yeah, um, empty building. I found a warehouse that’s been for sale for three years. Looks like a pretty dilapidated area.”

“Remember where it was? How to get there?”

“You got a map?”

Nick dug around in the glove compartment until he found a city map of Boston. “It’s a few years old.” He handed it back to Sam, who opened it and examined the markings, then ducked his head to check the street signs they passed.

“Okay, yeah. Turn left up ahead.” He directed Quinn’s driving as she relayed the rest of her plan in pieces. They pulled up in front of rusty overhead doors in a battered brick building that had maybe half its glass windows intact. The tension in the car, made up of probably equal parts disapproval and fear, seemed to crawl over her skin.

Nick got out and tried to open the overhead door. It didn’t budge. He tried the one next to it, and it, too, stayed firm. He held up a finger and went around the side of the building before Quinn could point out that she could unlock the door herself. They waited. She tried not to be aware of the minutes as they ticked by, but she noted them automatically. She’d hit eleven when, with a bang and a rattle followed by the hum of mechanics, the door rose.

As soon as she could, she pulled into the building, hoping she had a clear field and debris wouldn’t puncture a tire or something. Nick would kill her.

But no, the cavernous space was empty. The weak light from outside penetrated the grime on the windows better than she’d expected.

They climbed out of the car and stood in a cluster by the wall, Quinn feeling vulnerable and skittish and sensing her friends felt the same.

“How long do you think it will take him to track us down?” Sam moved to set up his laptop on an empty mechanic’s bin.

“Not long. He’s got something of Marley’s or mine—probably Marley’s—to track us.” She rubbed her forehead both to ease the headache building there and to hide her thoughts. Anson had an exceptional level of power now. He’d done so many things at once, so easily. Leeching Marley alone should have taken all his effort. Obviously, the collection of capacity from four goddesses was far more than she’d anticipated. Stupid.

Nick stopped walking the perimeter of the room, where he’d examined the few remaining items for anything they could use. “You’re wearing his coat. Can’t he track that even better?”

“No.” Quinn should have been repulsed by the jacket, by the man’s scent on it, but glee made that impossible. She had to stop thinking negatively.
I can do this.
We
can do this
. “Let’s split up and search the building for the things we can use. No more than five minutes. Be back here before then.”

Five minutes later, they reassembled. Quinn took inventory of the bits and pieces they’d collected. It wasn’t much, but they’d make do. She went into action, telling Marley to change into some of Quinn’s clothes and pulling on some herself, though she left her torso bare under Anson’s coat for maximum contact with his energy. Then she fixed Marley’s hair so it was more like hers and placed a chair with a bent leg in a shadowy area in the center of the room.

“You’re a little shorter than I am, so sitting is better.”

Marley did so without hesitation but said, “Won’t he know it’s me? I’m powerless. He can sense that, probably from a distance now.”

“All we need is a few seconds of distraction. Here, turn to face this door.” Nick had broken into a regular door on the building’s south wall. Quinn had left it hanging open an inch and secured the other, bigger doors. Anson would be able to open them, but she was gambling that he’d go for the easier, quieter route. Even if he didn’t, the noise would alert them, and they would have time to adjust.

Nick and Sam took up positions on either side of the door, while Quinn backed into the darkest shadows along one wall and intensified them to cloak herself. She used a little more power to concentrate on sensing Anson’s approach and determining how many people he brought with him.

Then they waited.

The net she’d cast vibrated, indicating a presence. The timbre of the vibration told her it was definitely him, his personal energy matching the residue on his coat. By wearing it, Quinn had connected herself to him and taken a slight advantage.

“He’s here,” she said quietly. “Three people with him, no goddesses.” She focused, struggling to keep her power under control, not use too much at once. “He’s last. Wait for the others to come in.”

That was all she could do except watch these first few steps. The door swung inward, creaking a little. A hulking shape loomed against the bright security light outside. His head rotated back and forth before he zeroed in on Marley. She’d dropped her head so it looked like she was unconscious. There was no reason for her to be, and Anson might detect a trap, but again, they only needed seconds.

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