Under the Moon (42 page)

Anson dropped to the floor. His weight wrenched her shoulders, and she almost lost her grip, but she followed him down and tried to stay on top. He managed to roll, then caught her wrists and jerked her hands off him. His knees pressed down onto her arms, pinning her to the dirty floor. Darkness pushed in around her.

“Got you,” he growled. He slammed his palm down on her chest, bare between the lapels of his coat. He connected with her core with a click she felt deep inside, then started to draw the power out of her. She gasped at the icy abrasion and for a minute she could do nothing. Her arms ached where he pinned them. The cold pain of the leeching numbed her ability to think. Her vision narrowed so all she could see was his face—lips pulled back in a gleeful grimace, hair flopping—he didn’t look remotely attractive anymore, except for those brilliant, glowing eyes.

Now she understood how completely helpless the others had been, having no way to stop this from happening. Despair squeezed her lungs, darkening into a grief she could never have imagined. She almost gave up, unable to see past it. But then she gasped for air, and the movement shifted her awareness. Anson wasn’t only connected to her.
She
was connected to
him
. She didn’t need to touch him in any certain way to draw his power.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and found the thread of light that connected them. She blocked out everything else and pulled, again like sucking on a straw, only with her soul.

As soon as the process reversed, as soon as what remained in him began to enter her, what she’d already taken seemed to reach eagerly for the rest. Overall, Quinn had more power than Anson, and even as he pulled against her, the solid connection he’d made went both ways. She realized that even though the power he’d leeched had been marked as his, it
wasn’t
his. It didn’t belong to him. Her lungs screamed for breath and lights danced behind her closed eyelids, but she didn’t move, only concentrated everything she had on collecting that power. The more she took, the easier it was, and she pulled harder, the conduit strengthening, the power filling her, until she’d drained Anson almost completely.

The rest of the world rushed back in when Nick, roaring, knocked Anson off her. The two of them slammed into the desk of the cubicle, Nick on top, drawing back his fist. Sam pulled Quinn out of the cube and collapsed against the cloth-covered wall opposite, cradling her against his chest.

Everything froze. Anson lay still under Nick, his eyes open but vacant. Nick held his shirt in his fist, the other arm still cocked, but Anson didn’t move.

“Is he dead?” Sam panted.

“No.” Nick let go, and Anson settled to the ground. “He’s breathing.”

Quinn felt as limp as Anson looked. She closed her eyes, unable to move. It was over.

Everything was.

Chapter Sixteen

Goddesshood is a legacy, passed down for innumerable

generations, a gift to be cherished and honored. No matter how your source and abilities manifest, they will be a part of you forever. It is a goddess’s responsibility to handle her power with care, respecting what came before, what is now, and what will always be. Celebrate, because your life will never be the same.

—The Society for Goddess Education and Defense,
Welcome Letter

…

“You leeched him?” Nick rose to his feet and winced, his hand on his side where he’d hit the desktop, no doubt the same ribs he’d bruised before.

“Mostly.” She could detect a tiny glimmer of power still in Anson. “He’s got enough to regret his loss. Not enough to do anything with it.”

Nick looked skeptical. He nudged Anson with his toe. The body rocked, but the man didn’t react.

“And he won’t be able to leech anyone again?” Sam asked. His arms tightened protectively around her. She ducked her head a bit and burrowed, not to get closer to Sam, but in an attempt to ground herself. She didn’t feel right. Her vision was crystal clear, yet colors seemed to swirl, not in front of her, but…behind her eyes? And inside her, deep, the place where she used to gather energy. Power swirled, but it was different. No longer the ability to draw energy by connecting with the moon, but power by itself. Filling her. Making her…whole. Her head swam, and when Sam said her name and she lifted her head, it seemed to take flight.

This must be what being high was like. She didn’t care for it, but when she tried to release the energy, let it flow through her and away, it did nothing but sink deeper, as if settling in.

Not exactly what she’d been hoping for.

She forced herself to remember Sam’s question. “No, he won’t be able to leech again. We’re safe now.” The “we” made her realize Marley wasn’t with them. “Where’s my sister?”

“She’s downstairs, guarding the goons.” Nick limped over to them and reached a hand down to help Quinn up. “I gave her a gun.”

Quinn took his hand, surprised when electric-like shock zinged up her arm and into her chest. Nick’s startled eyes met hers, then shuttered. He tugged, and she stood on wobbly legs. He let go of her and reached to help up Sam up.

As soon as Sam was on his feet, he put his arm around Quinn’s shoulders. “Can you handle him?” he asked Nick, already walking Quinn toward the stairs.

“Sure. He’s half your size.”

Nick grunted as he hefted Anson, and they made their way back downstairs. Marley leaned on her chair, Nick’s pistol held firmly and correctly, aimed at the still-unconscious men on the floor.

Nick dropped Anson on top of his goons with a sneer of disgust. Then he peeled off the flannel shirt he’d put on over his T-shirt and carried it to Quinn. “Put this on.” He blocked the others’ view of her while she turned her back and shrugged out of Anson’s coat. It seemed to take twenty pounds with it, and she felt a little more like herself.

Nick held his shirt while she put her arms in the sleeves. She couldn’t help herself—she wrapped the collar around her face and lifted it to her nose, inhaling deeply to replace Anson’s scent with Nick’s. He still smelled like bay rum.

“What do we do now?” Sam asked.

Quinn did up the buttons and turned around. Nick had moved away and taken the gun from Marley. The growing distance between them caused an ache in Quinn’s chest, different from all of today’s pains and weirdness.

She tried to shove it away. There was more to be done. She could deal with the emotional aftermath later, when all the important things were taken care of. But the ache wouldn’t go, and tears pricked at her eyes. When she drew a breath, her chin trembled.

Not now.
She couldn’t fall apart. She spun and walked away to press her face against her arm propped on the wall. She held herself tightly, so tightly she’d break if someone touched her, and she didn’t breathe until she had to.
Keep it together.
She had hours before it would be safe to cry.

Finally, her muscles eased, and the tears receded. Resolve overtook the ache, though it hadn’t faded. She was just able to put it in the background now. She turned. Nick stood a few feet away. She wondered why he hadn’t come closer. But then she realized she’d set up a shield, without even thinking about it, to keep him from doing so. It had hurt him, she could tell by the look in his eyes, but she didn’t know how to apologize. He shook his head a little—she didn’t need to.

Gratitude threatened to drag her under again, so she dropped the shield and strode back to the group.

“Sam, call the Society and have them send their so-called security team over here. Marley—” She hesitated, then decided to damn the consequences. “You might want to leave or they’ll take you into custody, too.”

Marley sighed. “I need to face the charges. Don’t worry,” she added, seeing Quinn’s reaction. “I’ll be okay. This is my price to pay.”

“We’ll talk after. We need— I want to be your sister.” As she said the words, Quinn was certain of their truth. For the first time since she learned of Marley’s existence, she could think about her as family rather than a problem.

Sam snapped his phone closed. “They’re on their way.”

A few moments later the side door burst open, and the security team flooded in. Hostility came off them in waves. Quinn and her friends had accomplished in hours what the security people had been unable to do for weeks. Quinn raised her arms, ready to defend her friends, and the power inside her swirled excitedly. Her entire body began to buzz and she immediately shut down, frightened. This was so strange, so different from what she understood goddesshood to be. She created another shield, an easy task that took very little effort, and wrapped it around her center, closing it and sealing the energy inside. She could still sense it, even the different “flavors” that had come from the different goddesses, but now she didn’t fear bringing the building down on their heads.

As angry and resentful as the security team was, they did their jobs with efficiency and professionalism.

Then one of them approached Marley. “I’m sorry, Ms. Canton, but you’ll have to come in with me.”

“She’s been leeched,” Quinn protested, unable to help herself. “Isn’t that punishment enough?”

The man didn’t bother turning her way. “That’s not up to me.” He wrapped a zip tie around Marley’s hands and led her out the door.

The three unknown men and Anson had already been collected. The tall, dark-haired man who’d directed the team approached Quinn and handed her a card. “This is when the board expects to see you. Come alone.”

Quinn looked at the card. It was a simple appointment card, like you got at the doctor, but was embossed with the Society seal and the words “Hearing Date and Time.” Tomorrow morning, nine o’clock. Not even giving her Monday to rest.

“I’ll be there.”

“We’ve taken care of the police issue at the hotel.” He didn’t look happy about helping them. “It’s safe to return there tonight.”

“Thank you.”

A moment later, she was alone with Nick and Sam in the cavernous warehouse.

She couldn’t believe it was over. No more running or chasing. No more fear.

No more life the way it was before. In any way.

Her knees began to shake, then her thighs. They wouldn’t hold her. She started to collapse.

“Whoa, there.” Nick caught one side, Sam the other. She thought for a minute Nick would pick her up, but Sam somehow took control and lifted her into his arms. The world tilted in a few different directions, and her head swam. She couldn’t focus.

“Get the car door. No, the back.” The voice was muffled but she heard the door creak open and the seat squeak. Sam gently deposited her on the backseat, then slung himself in after her.

Nick hit the overhead door control before climbing into the driver’s seat. The metal clanked and screeched, the noise pounding in Quinn’s head.

“Take us back to the hotel,” Sam ordered. “She’s overtaxed. She needs rest. You got any water in here?”

Nick tossed back a half-empty bottle of water. Sam unscrewed the top and held it to her mouth.

She drank, but it wasn’t overtaxing that had sidelined her. She wasn’t drained like usual but buzzed, as if she’d had three shots on an empty stomach.

“What time is it?” she asked Sam, frowning. She should know.

“You’ve got to be exhausted to ask me that.” He glanced at his watch. Quinn noticed his strong wrist and fingers, lightly curled, and the cords of muscle in his forearm. Something twisted in her abdomen. Something physical and familiar.
Oh, no.

“It’s a few minutes after midnight,” Sam said.

“Moon’s cresting,” she murmured, rolling her head across the seat. The back of Nick’s neck was exposed. She bared her teeth a little, remembering the taste of him, the texture of his skin under her mouth. Desire began a slow burn. She arched. Her nipples, unbound, abraded against Nick’s shirt and tingled. “Oh, god.”

“Quinn? What’s wrong?” Sam shifted closer to her and put his hand on the side of her head. “Are you hurt?” His examining gaze met her wild one, and he stilled. “Oh.”

“Sammy.” Quinn clenched her hand around his shirt, fighting not to pull him closer. He smelled familiar and felt strong. Her hands shook with the effort to keep them from roaming. She’d never experienced this before. She couldn’t think, struggled to get her body to obey.