Quinn's Lady, Page 2

  “What are you going to do now?” she asked.

  Quinn shook his head. He had no idea how to be a vampire, knew little about them other than they were hard to kill, needed human blood to survive, and lived for a very long time. Time, he thought, what was he going to do with the years that stretched ahead of him? He had no home, no family. The only job he’d ever held was being Jagg’s assassin. Probably not much call for that outside of Bosquetown.

  Seleena shifted from one foot to the other. She couldn’t stay in this place any longer. The walls, the floor, the very air itself, were heavy with her daughter’s scent. And with the scents of blood and pain and death. It threatened to crush her. “I’m going home.” She drew her cloak around her, then paused. “Do you have a place to stay?”

  Quinn shook his head. He was still reeling from the force of her magic; but, more than that, he was stunned by the feeling that everything that had happened in his life had inevitably led him to this moment. This woman.

  “You’re welcome to come home with me, if you wish.” She hadn’t intended to invite him, but he seemed so lost, so alone.

  “Thanks,” he said, unable to hide his surprise. “Let me see if I can find a change of clothes.”

  She waited in the corridor while he searched the rooms. He spent several minutes in the one near the end of the hall. He emerged wearing a black silk shirt, black pants, and knee-high black leather boots.

  “Are they yours?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “The closet was filled with clothes. I guess whichever lover stayed in it left in an all-fired hurry.”

  Seleena nodded. Or never left at all.

  Wondering if she was making a horrible mistake, she took his hand in hers and magicked the two of them home.

  #

  Quinn shook his head. Witchcraft, he mused. A handy talent. He glanced at his new surroundings. The room was decorated in shades of beige, brown and sage. The furnishings were simple but exquisite -- a long couch, a low table, plush carpeting on the floor, a well-used rocking chair. A shelf held a collection of delicate vases made of china and crystal. And, in the far corner, a shrine of some kind.

  A large black cat rushed into the room. It took one look at Quinn, hissed, and darted under the sofa.

  Seleena removed her cloak and tossed it over the back of a chair. “Some animals, like my Freyja, are very sensitive to predators.”

  Quinn nodded. Some of the cows had shied away from him, too.

  “Make yourself at home,” Seleena invited. “I’m going to make a cup of tea. I’m guessing you would like something stronger. A glass of red wine, perhaps?”

  “Yeah, that would be great. Thanks.”

  He watched her leave the room, then strolled toward the shrine. It held a blue stone, a knife with an ebony haft, a small black cauldron, and several white candles.

  Serepta had taught him a little about magic. The knife was called an athame. It was a double-bladed, ceremonial dagger often used to direct energy out of the body and into the environment. He was tempted to pick it up, but Seleena’s voice stayed his hand.

  “Please don’t touch anything.”

  The warning was mild, but he heard the steel beneath the words. He turned to face her. “Afraid I’ll contaminate it?”

  Nodding, she offered him a glass filled with dark-red liquid; then, in a lithe movement, she lowered herself onto a padded rocking chair. Indicating the sofa across from her, she said, “Please, sit.”

  He dropped onto the couch, one arm flung across the curved back. What the Hel was he doing here? With a witch!

  #

  She offered him dinner, but he declined. In spite of her assurances that he would be able to keep it down, he wasn’t quite ready to give it a try.

  She didn’t argue. She poured him a second glass of wine, invited him to sleep in her guest room, and went to bed. The cat trailed at her heels.

  Quinn stayed on the sofa in front of the fire, his legs stretched out in front of him, his fingers locked behind his head. Seleena. She was a pretty woman. Not as blatantly beautiful as her daughter, but just as lovely in her own way. With Serepta, he had been on edge every minute, always aware of the evil that lurked beneath her beauty, yet unable to extricate himself from her spell. Seleena put him on edge, too, but in an entirely different way.

  He wondered how old she was. She didn’t look much older than thirty. Thirty-five at the most, which would make her his age, but that seemed unlikely. Of course, he had no idea how old Serepta had been, either. He had asked her once, but she had just laughed and refused to answer. Someone -- he couldn’t remember who -- had told him that witches aged slowly, and that they were capable of altering their appearance to hide the ravages of time. For all he knew, Seleena could be a hundred. But it didn’t matter, he thought, because he was a vampire. And they didn’t age, either.

  Vampire. He stared into the flames….

  She reclined on a bed of silk sheets, her hair spread like skeins of silk across the pillow. She wore a long, black gown that did little to hide the voluptuous figure beneath. She smiled invitingly as she beckoned him to join her. Helpless, he stretched out beside her, drew her into his arms, and covered her mouth with his. He had never known a woman like her -- insatiable, inventive. Cruel. She had enjoyed causing him pain and yet, foolish man that he was, he had welcomed the ache for the pleasure that followed…

  What had he done to incur her wrath? When had she turned him into a vampire? Why had she imprisoned him in a statue? And why couldn’t he remember any of it? Some parts of his mind felt like mush.

  He glanced at the closed bedroom door. Was the mother as insatiable as the daughter?

  He bolted upright.

  Mother.

  Daughter.

  Who -- and where -- was the father?

  Chapter 3

  The question about Serepta’s father was the first thing Quinn asked when he woke late the next afternoon.

  He found Seleena in the kitchen, stirring something in a large pot. She regarded him for a moment, then said, “I don’t see as how that’s any of your business.”

  “It is if he comes busting in here and gets the wrong idea.”

  “I can assure you that won’t happen.” She stirred the pot again, then covered it and turned down the heat. “He’s quite happily engaged to someone else.”

  Quinn’s gaze moved over her, amazed that any man in his right mind would leave this woman for another.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked.

  His gaze moved briefly to her throat. “Yeah, I could eat something if it’s no trouble.”

  “Sit down. There’s beef stew in the pot, or I can fry you up a steak.”

  “You’re sure I can eat it?”

  She nodded.

  “Stew sounds fine.” Better to start with something mostly liquid, he thought, rather than dive into a hunk of meat. He watched her dish it up. How could he have forgotten being turned into a vampire? Had the witch made him a vampire and encased him in stone the same day? Dammit! Why couldn’t he remember?

  “You look troubled.” She placed a pretty flowered bowl and a spoon in front of him, then took a seat at the table.

  “Why can’t I remember when she turned me?”

  “I’m not sure. Perhaps it was so traumatic, that you’ve buried it deep in your sub-conscious.” She shrugged. “Perhaps she conjured a spell to make you forget.”

  “Maybe.” He regarded the contents in the bowl before taking a bite. It was hot and spicy. “It’s good.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Do you know a lot of vampires?”

  “No. Most of them were destroyed in the last century.”

  “Did Serepta ever try to turn you?”

  “She knew better. My daughter might have been a powerful witch, but she was no match for me. Or for Nardik.”

  “Nardik? The king’s advisor?”

  “Yes. Do you know him?”

  “I met once, a long time ago. I doubt he’d
remember me.”

  “He’s the queen’s advisor now. King Leonid is dead.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “I’ve got no place to go and nothing to do when I get there.”

  Seleena folded her hands on the table and took a deep breath. “Do you know the royal family?”

  “I know of them. Never met any.”

  “Leonid’s youngest child, Artur, wanted to be king, but he was last in line and couldn’t wait. He murdered both of his brothers and then decided to get rid of his sister. Marri vowed she didn’t want the throne, but, in his mind, she remained the only obstacle keeping him from his heart’s desire. Besides his father, of course. When the king learned the truth of Artur’s treachery, Artur killed him. And Nardik killed Artur. And now Marri sits on the throne.”

  “Hel of a story.”

  “Indeed.”

  Quinn finished the last of the stew, declined Seleena’s offer of more. Suddenly restless, he pushed away from the table. In spite of the food he’d just eaten, he felt empty inside.

  He needed to feed. Something warm and red and liquid.

  Seleena recognized the hunger in the pale crimson glow behind his eyes. “Remember your promise,” she warned.

  He nodded. “You saved my life, literally, and I’m grateful.”

  “You’re leaving?”

  “Probably for the best, don’t you think? I need to find out what I am, if you know what I mean.” He knew vampires had powers. It was time to discover just what they were.

  “Take care of yourself.” Rising, she held out her hand.

  It was swallowed up in his.

  His gaze searched hers. She was a powerful witch and even though she wanted him, he couldn’t forget that her daughter had beguiled him with her beauty and then encased him in stone. Nor could he forget that the mother claimed to be more powerful than the daughter.

  But her hand was still in his and her slightly parted lips were an invitation he couldn’t ignore.

  Seleena’s eyelids fluttered down as his mouth covered hers. It had been years since she had been in a man’s arms, and Quinn’s were strong and sure, his chest as hard as the stone that had once encased him. His lips moved over hers, intimate, familiar, as if they had kissed many times before. As if they had all the time in the world.

  Vampire. The word whispered through her mind but she shoved it aside. What difference did it make? He was leaving. But for this one moment, he was hers.

  She went up on her tiptoes, her arms twining around his neck to hold him closer, tighter. He tasted of vegetables and broth and man and she wanted to stay in his arms forever.

  When he broke the kiss, she felt as if she had lost a piece of herself.

  He stared down at her, his deep blue eyes filled with lust and confusion. And then, to her dismay, he vanished from her sight.

  #

  Quinn came to a stop by the fountain in the middle of the village, his whole body throbbing with need. Once the witch put her arms around his neck, he had wanted nothing more than to sweep her off her feet and carry her to bed. But the last time he had bedded a witch, he’d woke up a vampire. No telling what Seleena might do if she suddenly had second thoughts. Although the way she had caught fire in his arms, it might have been worth the risk to stick around long enough to find out.

  Taking a deep breath, he glanced at his surroundings. From where he stood, he could see a number of houses strung out around the village square. Most were built of wood, others of brick. Several open-air stalls surrounded a pretty, bubbling fountain. Vendors hawked a variety of goods - food and drink, hats and scarves and imported trinkets. In the distance, he heard the ring of a blacksmith’s hammer, the chiming of a church bell.

  As he walked through the square, people eyed him curiously, but that was to be expected. He was a stranger in a small town. Likely everyone knew everyone else. A few of the inhabitants smiled and nodded his way. A scruffy dog ran up to him, growled deep in its throat, then tucked its tail between its legs and darted under a wagon.

  Quinn walked from one end of the village to the other. There was nothing to indicate where he was -- no street signs, nothing to indicate the name of the place or the population. One thing was for certain, it was Hel and gone away from the more prosperous parts of the country. If there was a spaceport, it was miles away. He saw no vehicles of any kind save one rusty old LandSkiff that had seen better days, and a couple of horse-drawn wagons. Damn, he really was in the backend of the planet.

  But then, he was a vampire. He didn’t need transportation. He knew from spending time with Serepta that vampires were remarkably strong and fast. They could jump incredibly high. They didn’t grow old. They never got sick. They could change shape, dissolve into mist. Wounds healed quickly and left no scar. And, as he had just proved when he left Seleena’s house, they were capable of moving faster than the eye could follow.

  Maybe being a vampire wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  #

  Seleena washed and dried the dishes. Usually, she just magicked them clean and into the cupboard but this afternoon she needed the distraction. She swept the floor, pulled the sheets from the bed Quinn had slept on. She lingered there a moment, the sheets pressed to her face. His scent was there, clean and fresh and masculine. The house felt empty without him.

  Freyja twined in and out between her legs, meowing loudly for attention.

  With a sigh, Seleena hurried out of the room, dumped the sheets in the washer, and then bent to pick up the cat. “I’m sure you’re glad he’s gone,” she murmured, stroking the cat’s ears. “But I miss him already.” It was an odd sensation. She had lived alone ever since Serepta left home. Until now, she had never been lonely. “And how odd is that? I don’t even know the man. And yet I felt something happen between us the first time we touched.” She moved into the living room and settled in the rocker. “Maybe I just imagined it.” She shook her head. “No. Whatever it was, it was real. But it doesn’t matter now. He’s gone.”

  Freyja hissed softly.

  “Yes, I know. I could force him to come back. Compel him to stay with me. But that’s not what I want.”

  #

  With the setting of the sun, the vendors closed their stalls and headed home. Quinn watched them the way a hawk watched a flock of chickens. Made his choice and followed the woman down a narrow dirt path lined with trees. It led to a solitary house.

  Quinn stayed out of sight until she went inside. He circled the place, but detected no other occupants. Satisfied that his prey lived alone, he rang the bell.

  #

  Seleena’s heart skipped a beat when she heard a knock at the door. It was him.

  She took two deep breaths, smoothed her hand over her hair, and lifted the latch.

  “Think I could bed down in your spare room again?” Quinn asked.

  “I thought you went off to find yourself.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe I changed my mind. Or maybe what I’m looking for is right here.”

  Seleena started to invite him in, then paused when she caught the faint scent of blood.

  “She’s fine,” he said, meeting her gaze. “I only took a little.” He cocked his head to the side. “Don’t you believe me?”

  “Yes,” Seleena said, stepping aside so he could enter. “I do.”

  He followed her into the living room, took a place on the sofa while she settled into the rocker. The cat immediately leaped onto her lap, tail twitching, yellow eyes unblinking as it stared at Quinn.

  Seleena stroked the cat’s head. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

  “You seemed happy enough to find me at your door.”

  “If I wasn’t, you’d still be outside.”

  His gaze probed hers. “Why did you let me in?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t know? Or won’t admit it?”

  She lowered her head to hide the rush of color she felt climbing up her neck into he
r cheeks. She wanted him. He was the most attractive man she had ever met. But that didn’t change the fact that he was a stranger. A vampire. Nor could she forget that he had been Serepta’s lover. That bothered her more than anything.

  “You want me.”

  The words hung in the air between them. She imagined she could see them there, in bold black letters, floating just out of reach.

  “You don’t have to admit it,” Quinn said. “I can smell it on you.”

  Her eyes widened. “No, you can’t.”

  He winked at her. “Yes, I can. Just so you know, I want you, too. That’s one of the reasons I came back. To finish what we started this afternoon.”

  Seleena pressed her hand to her heart to keep it from jumping out of her chest. He wanted her. Unbidden came an image of Quinn and Serepta locked in each other’s arms.

  Seleena shook her head. There was just no way she could let Quinn make love to her, no way on earth that she could look into his eyes and wonder if he was comparing her to her daughter.

  “What’s the other reason?”

  “I want to get to know you better.” He leaned forward, his gaze holding hers. “You can try to fight the attraction between us. You can deny it until you’re blue in the face. You can throw me out of your house. But it’s gonna happen, Red,” he said smugly. “Sooner or later, it’s gonna happen.”

  #

  Lying alone in bed, listening to the clock chime the hour, Seleena couldn’t remember anything else she or Quinn had said. All she could hear was his smug voice echoing in her mind -- You can fight the attraction. You can deny it until you’re blue in the face. You can throw me out of your house. But it’s gonna happen, Red. Sooner or later, it’s gonna happen.

  She tuned onto her stomach and punched her fist into the pillow. Turned onto her side. Onto her back. It’s gonna happen….it’s gonna happen.

  She closed her eyes and his image flashed before her -- thick dark hair, dark-blue eyes, shoulders as wide as her doorway, tawny skin, a flat belly ridged with muscle. And that tattoo. Her fingers itched to touch it, to follow the tail where it wrapped around his bicep…

  “Stop it!” She jackknifed into a sitting position and turned on the light, banishing his image from her mind.