Quinn's Lady, Page 3

  Freyja meowed in protest when Seleena slid out of bed. Pulling on her robe, she went to the window and drew back the curtain. All was quiet outside. The twin moons hung low in the sky, bathing the land in a faint yellow glow.

  Too keyed up to sleep, she eased her bedroom door open. She listened a moment before tiptoeing through the dark house into the kitchen. A wave of her hand warmed a cup of water. She dropped a tea bag inside, stood at the counter, arms folded over her chest, while she waited for the tea to steep.

  Her thoughts drifted toward Quinn again. She tried to rein them back, but it was no use. Was he asleep? She knew little of vampires except that they slept during the day, had exceptional powers, and drank blood to survive. But she had altered part of that. Would he now sleep nights, like everyone else? Where would he go when he left here? Would he go back to bounty hunting for that despicable man, Jagg?

  She turned her thoughts to Marri and Gryff. She had never known a couple more in love. What was it like, to feel that way? She had never been in love, not even with Nardik. When the year of mourning for the king was over, Nardik would wed Marri’s mother, Amerris. Another happy-ever-after, she mused, and wondered if she would ever find one of her own.

  Aware that she was no longer alone, she whirled around and came face-to-face with Quinn.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Can’t sleep?”

  The darkness suddenly seemed far too intimate. Reaching behind her, she flipped on the light. “I just wanted a cup of tea.”

  “Uh huh.”

  She glared at him. “Are you calling me a liar?”

  He took a step forward. His nearness seemed to suck all the air out of the room. “I know something that works better than tea.” His voice was raw, husky with desire. It moved over her senses like rough velvet.

  He wasn’t wearing a shirt. Her gaze was drawn to the dragon tattoo on his shoulder. She curled her hands into fists to keep from running her fingers over his arm.

  His knowing smile infuriated her.

  She didn’t know who was more surprised when she slapped him, Quinn or herself.

  Shocked, she stared at the bright red print of her hand on his cheek. She had never struck another human being in her life.

  He had the audacity to grin. “Feel better now?”

  She shook her head, horrified by her loss of control.

  “Your tea’s getting cold.”

  Afraid of what she might do next, she dumped the tea into the sink and fled the room.

  The sound of amused male laughter followed her.

  Chapter 4

  Quinn stared after her. He couldn’t remember ever being so anxious to get to know a woman. Serepta didn’t count. He knew now that his feelings for her hadn’t been real. She had enchanted him, turned him into a vampire, and trapped him inside a stone prison. He doubted the woman knew the meaning of love. But Seleena…she was sexy. Mysterious. Soft-spoken, but not soft. He wanted to know her in every way a man could know a woman. Explore every inch of her. She would be a generous lover, as eager to give pleasure as receive it.

  But he would never get to know her as long as she was afraid. But was she afraid of him -- or of her attraction to him?

  He took a deep breath as he stepped outside. He felt at home in the darkness. But then, that was probably to be expected, now that he was a vampire. If not for Seleena’s spell, which would allow him to walk in the sun’s light, he would be alive only at night. He owed her big-time for that. Maybe he should do her a favor and just walk out of her life.

  He glanced back at the house. She was in her room, asleep. He could hear the slow, steady beating of her heart. Smell the blood flowing through her veins. Would her life’s blood really sicken him to the point of death? Or was that just an empty threat -- a way of protecting herself from his bite? For a moment, he considered taking a sip while she slept. And then he shook his head. She had saved his life, given him shelter. He wouldn’t break her trust by stealing her blood.

  And he wouldn’t leave her. Not unless she told him to go.

  #

  Seleena woke before dawn after a restless night. Her dreams had been filled with images of Quinn. In the most bizarre dream, his dragon came to life and chased her through Serepta’s garden. In the last, and most pleasant, Quinn had seduced her with sweet words and honeyed kisses. She’d awoken in the middle of the night, a smile on her face, only to spend the rest of the night trying to find her way back into his arms. In the dream, of course.

  Rising, she drew on her robe and padded into the corridor. She paused at his door. Was he still asleep? Her hand curled around the latch, then she jerked it back. What was she doing?

  Hurrying into the kitchen, she made a cup of hot chocolate and carried it into the living room. Freyja trailed at her heels, meowing softly.

  “Yes, he’s still here,” Seleena said, lowering herself into the rocker. “And no, I haven’t decided what to do about it.”

  Freyja curled up at her feet, a sure sign that she wasn’t happy with her indecision.

  “I know you don’t like him, but it’s nice to have company. Human company,” she added, when the cat hissed at her.

  Rocking gently, Seleena sipped her chocolate. It was very dark, very decadent. An old recipe known only to members of her family. Her thoughts turned to the man sleeping in her guest room. What was she to do with him? She liked having someone to talk to, but sooner or later, she was afraid words would lead to something far more intimate. She was all too aware of the sexual attraction that hummed between them, that sense of inevitability. He wanted her. And she most definitely wanted him. Her dreams had proved that beyond doubt! It had been years since she had been close to a man, felt a man’s touch, his skin against hers…

  A flush warmed her cheeks as she remembered last night’s erotic dream. As if on cue, Quinn strolled into the room. He wore the same black trousers. His shirt hung open, revealing a broad expanse of tawny skin. For some reason, the fact that he was barefooted made her cheeks grow hotter. It seemed so intimate somehow.

  “Kind of early for you to be awake, isn’t it?” His voice was as deep and sultry as the night itself.

  She stared up at him, unable to think of a single thing to say.

  “Bad dreams?”

  Her heart skipped a beat. Quite the contrary! But she couldn’t tell him that. And yet he knew. She could see it in the faint glint of amusement in his eyes.

  “Maybe not so bad?” he asked.

  “I don’t keep regular hours,” she said, as if that explained everything.

  He took a place on the sofa, his long legs stretched out in front of him. “Why do you live in this dreary village? There’s a whole world out there filled with fine homes outfitted with all the latest conveniences. Yet you live here, in this tiny house. Why?”

  “The people need me. There’s no doctor here, no hospital. I heal the sick, deliver their babies, bring rain when it’s needed.”

  “And that’s enough for you?”

  “Yes.” At least it had been. Until she met him. She couldn’t stop looking at him -- his shaggy brown hair tousled, the faint white scar along his neck. His nose was sharp, his lips full, sensual…unbidden she remembered how he had kissed her in her dream. And how quickly - and willingly - she had responded to his touch.

  Quinn lifted one brow as her cheeks bloomed with color. “You’re blushing. Why?”

  “It’s warm in here, that’s all.” Seleena focused inward and raised the temperature of the room.

  He smiled, as if well aware of what she’d done. “Is it?”

  “Tell me about yourself.”

  “I don’t think so. You’d probably throw me out on my ear if I did.”

  “It can’t be that bad.”

  “No?” He regarded her a moment. “My mother worked in one of Jagg’s brothels in Bosquetown. I was born there. Never knew who my father was. Neither did she. He could have been one of the hundreds of men who frequented
the place. I was nine when she died in childbirth and the baby with her. Jagg raised me from that time on. He made no pretense of doing it for any reason other than he expected to make money off me later. He taught me to fight dirty and how to cheat at cards and dice, and when I was old enough, he set me to bounty hunting.” His expression hardened. “Occasionally, I acted as his assassin.”

  Seleena stared at him, unable to imagine such a terrible life. She had grown up with loving parents. She had never known poverty or want. Whenever she had seen cruelty or need, she had used her magic to make things better. “Where did you meet my daughter?”

  “She came to Bosquetown to buy a slave. She bought me from Jagg instead.” How could he have forgotten that?

  “She bought you?”

  “Yeah. For a right hefty price, as I recall. Next time I’m in Bosquetown, I’m going to have a little talk with Jagg.” And then I’m going to kill him.

  Seleena bit down on her lower lip as Quinn’s eyes went red. She had a feeling Jagg’s days were numbered, and while she didn’t approve of murder, she could understand Quinn’s anger. “How long were you with Serepta?”

  “About a year, I guess, before she turned me into a garden decoration.” Except for being her slave, it hadn’t been all that bad. He’d had everything he desired, except his freedom…memories stirred in the back of his mind…they were in her bed, wrapped in each other’s arms. I’m going to give you a gift, she whispered. A wonderful gift…But he hadn’t thought it was wonderful.

  Seleena gazed into the fire. He had spent a year with Serepta. How many times had they made love? Her daughter had embraced Dark Magic, turned people into statues, did any number of despicable things, and yet Seleena suddenly envied Serepta the nights she had spent in Quinn’s arms. And how sick and disgusting was that!

  “She turned me to stone because I wasn’t happy to be a vampire.” He muttered a vile oath as the memory returned. “She said she’d given me a wonderful gift and I didn’t appreciate it.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Being trapped in that stone was agony. There were times when I was aware of what was happening. I felt the heat of the sun during the day, a relentless hunger at night.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Tears filled her eyes as she imagined the horror he had described. Rising, she placed her hand on his shoulder. “I can make you forget it,” she said. “All of it.”

  “No.” Quinn covered her hand with his own, his fingers wrapping around hers.

  “I should think you’d like to forget.”

  He shook his head. “It’s part of my past, part of me.”

  His gaze, filled with longing, burned into hers. She knew what he wanted. She wanted it, too. The thought of letting him make love to her was tempting. Far too tempting.

  He gave her hand a squeeze when he read the indecision in her eyes. “It’s going to happen, Red,” he promised. “Sooner or later.”

  He had made the same promise before, Seleena recalled as she bid him goodnight and returned to her room.

  But this time, she believed him.

  #

  Quinn remained on the sofa, his thoughts turned inward. Memories assailed him, sweeping through his mind like a flash flood. Serepta standing behind him, the crack of her whip like a pistol shot as she laid his back open. Serepta leaning over him, licking the hot blood from his torn flesh as her hands moved over him, healing him. Serepta, laughing as she tortured one of the servants who had displeased her…

  She had been as cruel as she was beautiful, truly the most evil woman he had ever known. Brynn Tor and its inhabitants were well rid of her.

  He shut the door on the past and turned his thoughts from the daughter to the mother. He couldn’t help grinning as he remembered how flustered she had been earlier, the blush in her cheeks. She might be a powerful witch, but her thoughts were practically transparent. She wanted him. Unless he missed his guess, she had been dreaming about him earlier. Judging by her musky scent, those dreams had been far from innocent.

  Sooner or later, she would be his. It was only a matter of time. And now, thanks to Serepta, time was something he had plenty of.

  Chapter 5

  Seleena woke to the sound of someone frantically ringing the bell. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she donned her robe and ran to answer the door.

  “Lonn, what’s wrong?” She smiled at Kerry Frazzier’s son. Though he was only nine, he was the man of the house.

  “It’s Lissy! She’s been in labor for hours. I think the baby’s stuck! Can you come?”

  “Of course. Just let me get my shoes.” She hurried down the hall, colliding with Quinn as he stepped out of his room.

  “I didn’t know you were a midwife,” he said with a wry grin.

  “I am whatever I need to be.”

  “Mind if I come along?”

  “No, you might be useful.”

  “In childbirth? I doubt it.”

  She grinned up at him as she stepped aside. “You might be surprised.”

  #

  Quinn was, indeed, surprised to learn that the baby Seleena had been called on to deliver wasn’t a baby at all, but a calf.

  He stood behind her as she examined Lissy the cow, listening in amusement as she spoke softly to the animal, which was obviously in distress judging from the swish of its tail and sweat-sheened flanks.

  The boy stood at Quinn’s side, wide-eyed as he watched Seleena’s forearm disappear inside the cow.

  “One of the calf’s feet is blocking the birth canal,” Seleena said. “I can’t get a good grip on it.” She looked inquiringly at Quinn.

  “You want me to do it? Can’t you just wave your wand and magic the calf out?”

  “Not this time.” Rising, she washed her arm in a bucket of soapy water and dried it with a rough piece of cloth.

  “Sure, what the Hel.” He washed his hands and dried them on a clean length of toweling before stepping behind the cow. She glanced over her shoulder with a baleful stare.

  With a sigh of resignation, Quinn rolled up his sleeve and slid his hand inside the animal. It didn’t take long to find the problem. “Okay, I’ve got hold of it,” Quinn said as he wrapped his fingers around the calf’s leg and slowly straightened it out.

  “Can you grab hold of the other leg?” Seleena asked.

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “Let me know when you’ve got both of them. Then, when I say the word, I want you to pull on both feet together. Wait…not yet. Now!”

  The cow pushed.

  Quinn pulled.

  And a tiny black-and-white calf slid out in a gush of blood and water.

  The boy clapped his hands.

  Seleena grinned at Quinn. “Well done!”

  “Yeah.” He glanced down. His pants were stained with blood. His hand and forearm were covered with who-knew-what. But he couldn’t help grinning when Lissy the cow began to lick her baby. It was the first time he had ever seen anything born. It was, he thought as he washed his hands, a Hel of a sight.

  They waited around until the calf was on its feet and nursing.

  By then, the sun was up. Lonn scooted out of the barn to tell his mother the good news.

  Kerry Frazzier arrived a few minutes later. “Bless you and thank you,” she said as she offered Seleena two loaves of crusty brown bread still warm from the oven.

  “It was really Quinn who did all the work,” Seleena said. “I just diagnosed the problem.”

  The woman clasped one of Quinn’s hands in both of hers. “Thank you so much, Mr. Quinn! I don’t know what we’d have done if we lost our Lissy.”

  He muttered, “Glad to help,” as he extricated his hand from hers.

  Moments later, they took their leave.

  Seleena smiled at him as they walked back to her house. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Bringing a new life into the world.”

  “It was just a cow.”

  “But it’s their livelihood. Kerry’s husband passed away last year, leaving her with three little ones to care for. She
provides for her family by selling butter and cheese at market.”

  “And all she paid you was two loaves of bread.”

  “But it’s good bread,” Seleena remarked as they reached her door. “We’ll have a couple of slices for breakfast, with some ham and eggs.”

  #

  Later, with the breakfast dishes done and Quinn resting in his room, Seleena went out into her garden. She had planted it in a concentric circle, with healing herbs -- fennel, garlic, ginger, jasmine, rosemary, sage, and lavender -- on the outer ring and poisonous ones, like pennyroyal, on the inside. Brick paths were laid around the circles.

  A wide variety of flowers grew along the fence. Thanks to a bit of earth magic, they bloomed all year round -- a riot of color no matter what the season or the weather. A small fountain bubbled in one corner, the sound of the water always a pleasant diversion. She smiled as she recalled threatening to turn Quinn back into a statue and use him for a decoration in her fountain.

  She spent an hour pulling weeds and raking leaves, but nothing could divert her thoughts from Quinn. He was the most beautiful, beguiling man she had ever known. He made her feel young again. Feminine. Desirable.

  She paused under her favorite tree. Even though she had conjured a spell that allowed Quinn to walk in the light of day, he preferred the darkness. And that bothered her greatly. Serepta had embraced the dark and it had been her downfall.

  Feeling suddenly depressed, Seleena set the rake aside and sank down on a wicker chair. It was hard to reconcile her happy, chubby-cheeked daughter with the evil woman Serepta had become. Time and again, Seleena had warned her daughter against dabbling in the Dark Arts, but to no avail. There was an allure to black magic, a horrible fascination that, once tasted, was hard to resist.

  She wondered again where the men and women who had been in service to Serepta had gone. Where were all the cooks, the maids, the men she had employed to do her bidding? Had any of them willingly served her? Or had they all been trapped inside the castle, unable to leave, or had they been afraid to incur Serepta’s wrath and end up as another stone statue in her garden?