Wynter's Horizon (29 page)

“Do it again,” she called, breathless. I could see her tighten her hands on the roll bar and move her feet further apart. I hesitated a second and then floored it. She was more prepared this time. Quinn moved his arms to either side of her in case she lost her balance, but she didn’t. We raced down the drive. Wynter screamed and laughed, throwing her head back to watch the sky. Her hair fanned out, the wind lifting it and giving it a life all its own.

I turned the Jeep around at the bottom of the driveway, fishtailing through the grass, and raced back up. Over the roar of the engine, I could hear Quinn singing some Gaelic song at the top of his lungs and Wynter still laughing and screaming. I hoped to God the residents of the few houses left on the block were either asleep or out, but I wouldn’t have stopped for anything.

We finally headed all the way home. Quinn and Wynter tumbled out of the Jeep, still laughing and now arguing about how strong we really were. Quinn challenged Wynter to come up with something he couldn’t do. We were in mid-sentence when the scent hit us both. Quinn, who had been holding Wynter above his head with one hand, dropped her down to the ground gently but swiftly.

“Oh, fuck.” She materialized out of the darkness on the side of the garage, staring at Quinn, her eyes flashing with anger even in the dark. I felt my stomach lurch with anxiety. Wynter got up, dusting herself off.

“Nice going, strong arms,” Wynter threw at Quinn. He didn’t acknowledge, never breaking his gaze from Sara’s.

She moved forward, extending her hand. “Hi. I’m Wynter.”

Sara stared at her like she was a leper. I felt the instinctive urge to step in front of Wynter.

“Is
this
what you’ve been doing these past months?” Sara nearly shrieked.

Wynter stepped back beside me, and it was only then I realized how fast she was breathing and the rapid beat of her heart. She was scared but attempting to hide it. I felt a surge of admiration for her, which was quickly smashed as Sara turned her attention toward me. “How could you?” Her voice was full of shock and horror. I didn’t blame her.

“You of all of us? After everything we’ve been through, this is what you do? Put us all in danger?” I cleared my throat, fumbling for words. “Well—”

She stepped toward me, and I saw Quinn reach for her. “Let it go, Sara.”

She rounded on him. “Let it go? I came here because I have bad news, and I didn’t want to say it over the phone. I thought we should talk face to face. Now, I get here and find the two of you playing what? House? With some university bimbo?”

“Those two words don’t go together.” Quinn offered. Sara looked like she might rip his head off.

“What’s the news?” I asked, my stomach doing a roll and remembering Fiona’s call. Sara pointed at both of us,

“I’m not discussing this outside.” And she turned on her heel and marched to the house. Only Sara could do it and look elegant with her diminutive height and frame.

We followed wordlessly, though I could see Quinn grinning at her departing silhouette. “She’s so sexy when she’s mad.” He leaned over, whispering. Sara whipped her head around, pinning him with a withering look. “Just complementing you, luv,” he called to her.

“You’re an ass,” she muttered.

“It’s why she loves me,” Quinn explained loudly to no one.

Sara opened the front door, breaking the lock clear off the frame.
Damn, she was mad.
I was vaguely aware of Wynter beside me.

Quinn, who didn’t seem bothered by it at all, leaned over me to catch Wynter’s eyes. “She doesn’t play nice with strangers, but she’ll warm up.”

Wynter didn’t respond. She just smiled weakly. I knew she probably needed some support from me, but my own shock had set in. Sara’s arrival only emphasized the fairy tale I’d been living. I paused outside the door, letting Quinn go in and get Sara settled.

“Wynter…” I grabbed her arm as she went to step through the door.

“What?” Her tone was clipped, her eyes guarded, and I wondered what she was thinking. I dropped my voice a level.

“Are you okay?”

“What do you think?” She hissed back in a whisper.

“Do you want to leave?”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Do you want me to?”

“No … No! I just have to deal with this.” I pointed toward the open door, not sure what to do. Sara would be staying, perhaps for weeks.

“Are you worried about her?” She jabbed a finger in the air. I wondered how much Sara and Quinn were listening to our conversation.

“No. It’s just that Sara’s really protective, like a mother hen.” I grimaced. Sara as a nurturer was a strange image.
Damn, I couldn’t find the right words
. “…And … well, she’s wary of strangers. Normal people.”
Of course, so was I a few months ago,
I thought silently. “I don’t know how she’ll be.”

She stared at me for a second. “I’ll just go.”

“No, I don’t want you to drive by yourself at night.” Even as I heard the words, I cringed. I should have been convincing her to stay. But I was lost to find the two areas of my life colliding.

“Okay. I’ll stay and leave in the morning.” I wanted to stop her, but I couldn’t. Sara’s being here screwed everything.

Wynter turned abruptly and marched through the door and quickly up the stairs. I watched her go as Quinn appeared beside me. I could feel his disapproval.

“What?” I asked sharply. I knew I hadn’t handled the situation well, or at all.

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

Sara emerged from the kitchen, a can of soda in her hand. Her temper seemed to have dissipated. She gulped down her Coke and stared at me, expectantly.

“Wynter went upstairs. What happened?” I tried to dispense with the small talk.

“Wynter? Her name is Wynter? How stupid can Americans get?”

“Drop it, Sara.” I nearly growled.

“Fine. Katherine and Nat were jumped last night.”

The air left my lungs. Damn it! That explained Fiona’s call. If I had returned it, I would have known Sara was on her way. “Where?”

“In London. They were walking back from a play. Whoever they were, they were expecting Katherine alone and were a bit surprised to find both, at least that’s what Nat and Katherine think. Some random cops were in the neighborhood and heard the whole thing. They jumped into the fight, thinking it was a robbery, and scared them off.”

“Are they okay?” Quinn asked.

“Just some bruises and stuff. Nothing serious. Katherine said they were well trained—and vicious. She thinks military, or ex-military.”

“Fuck.” I moved around the room, trying to shake off the feeling of desperation.

“Yes, we had better be careful and watch our backs. Anything going on here?”

I thought of the merc at the casino. Quinn had been monitoring him for weeks. Just recently, he had disappeared without a trace. Quinn raised an eyebrow at me, most likely thinking the same thing, then looked at Sara.

“No. Nothing here,” he lied. She would have gone ballistic to find out we hadn’t done anything more proactive.

“Well, would you know, being so occupied entertaining Alice in Wonderland?” She sneered. Sara didn’t like anyone who caught Quinn’s attention. It had taken her years to even tolerate Katherine and Fiona. How Quinn had made it through her defenses was nothing short of a miracle.

Quinn, who was never one to indulge her snits and took more pleasure in needling her than coddling her, shook his head. “Sara, Wynter is nothing like Alice.” It was all the provocation needed to push Sara over the edge she had been teetering on since emerging from the woods. She swung out at Quinn full force. He caught her hand in his before it connected with his face, pushing her back. I stayed out of it, watching the two of them spar. Despite the difference in size, Sara was stronger than Quinn, and he knew it.

“You two imbeciles,” she muttered, trying desperately to knock him off his feet.

“Sara—” I started, wondering where my explanation was headed. “It’s not like Lilly. She’s not crazy.”

She broke her attention from Quinn then and glared over her shoulder at me. “Am I supposed to trust your judgment?”

“Yes.”

“Well, excuse me if I don’t. Your judgment sucks. She’s named after a season, Beck. Shoot a little higher. “

“You’re a
real bitch sometimes.” I bit my tongue after the words spilled out. Sara sidestepped Quinn then sent him sprawling and cursing, the lamp clattering off the end table as he connected with it.

“Better that than stupid. Where’d you even find that girl? What future do you have?” I felt like divulging the truth. In my unconscious state.
Of course, that wouldn’t help matters. Besides, her question on the future was valid, one I had asked myself plenty. Quinn got up, advancing toward Sara. His eyes sparkled, and I could tell the night was almost over. Fighting for them was foreplay. They’d be downstairs in no time.

“Well, fuck my judgment and my stupidity.” I said it forcefully, hoping to hide the overwhelming number of doubts Sara had stirred up. Sara shook her head in disgust.

“Remember who and what you are, Beck.” Her words fell at my back as I went up the stairs, looking back once to confirm my suspicions. Quinn had Sara in a headlock, and I could hear him whispering things better left unheard on my part.

Sara started to laugh, pressing her tiny body back into his as they backed toward the basement. I didn’t understand her and never had. Quinn did, and that was enough. She was dark and beautiful with a temper unmatched by few—and even greater power. Quinn had a way of softening her, making her laugh. And when she did, she was mesmerizing. She was fiercely loyal, and I knew she would not divulge my secret about Wynter to the Forum. She would also never hurt her, even as she joked. We had been friends too long.

Wynter’s door was closed. I pressed my ear to it. I could hear her breathing, heavy and hitched, and the covers rustling. For an instant, I imagined her body in bed and felt my throat close up. I raised my hand to knock on her door. “Wyn?” I called softly.

“Yes.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Her voice sounded pinched and hoarse. I waited a minute, contemplating whether I should leave, when the knob turned and the door swung slowly open. She stood in the doorway, dressed for bed—hair twisted into a knot and face washed.
Her eyes were red and swollen, but there were no tears.

“Do you want to go for a walk? It’s still nice out. Our tree awaits.” We almost always wound up under the beech tree. It had become our spot, sitting under the canopy created by its limbs, watching the sky through the swaying branches. She shook her head and moved away to the other side of the bed.

“Wynter?”

She turned toward me, placing a knee on the bed and staring at me. “What was she talking about downstairs?”

I jammed my hands in my pockets and leaned back a bit, wishing to be anywhere else. But I couldn’t lie to her, not about this. “I found a girl, years ago, when I was eighteen, who had similar powers as us. I brought her into the fold but she went crazy, tried to blow everyone up. They institutionalized her. People blame me. I went to bat for her and it … was a mistake.”

She nodded as if that made sense. I didn’t know what to say or do. For the first time, the distance I had been trying so hard to keep between us had truly arrived. I hated it.

“Has that happened before?”

I had fallen in love once before with Maggie. But that was more of a teenage thing. “No.”

She silently contemplated this.

“Are you mad?” I asked. I couldn’t tell what was going through her head.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. All I know is that you have this whole life, or lives, I know nothing about. I never know when the sand is going to shift with you. It’s like I’m standing on the beach, and the water comes in and then, when it goes back out, I’m left teetering on the edge.”

I couldn’t argue with her. She didn’t know me—not really—nor the powers that could overtake me. Make me forget who I was. I couldn’t tell her that I loved her because I didn’t know if I could stay. As much as I hated what I was, the further I got away from the memories of Colombia, the more I missed the work. I craved the hunt, the fight, the missions. I felt alive in that world. The only other time I felt so good was with her, but that wasn’t fair to pin my mental well-being on her. A part of me wanted that risky, violent life, and she didn’t need that—someone who would leave repeatedly and come back fucked up.

“I’m sorry.”

She nodded at my words and gazed out the window again.
What did she see?
I wondered. When she turned back, her face looked different—quieter, less animated, as if she had resigned herself to something, as if some thought she had been carrying with her was gone.

“I should go to sleep,” she answered shortly and stared at me. I wanted to fight her, urge her to let me sit on the bed and talk late into the night as we sometimes did, watching her fall asleep in my arms. Instead, I nodded in response, backing up and retreating to my room across the hall. I didn’t try to sleep. I knew it was pointless. I spent the night thinking of my dream on the beach, of people meeting in alternate states, of Sara’s feelings and harsh words, of the truth I knew yet hated to admit.