Double Alchemy: Climax (20 page)

Cade shook his head as he laid his head on Quinn’s shoulder. “I don’t have a history with Cooper. I do trust you, but I can’t help feeling a little concerned. What if she does some Fey-witchy thing again?”

Quinn waved his hands in frustration. “It’s not going to happen. Trust me.”

Cade nodded his head, not looking convinced. “Fine then. But if I find out she’s made one move towards you, I’ll scratch her eyes out, witch or no witch.”

He glared at him.

Quinn laughed softly. “Okay, I’m sure she’ll quiver in her boots when she hears that. I know I would. Especially with that fierce and scary look on your face. God, I love you, you feisty, impossible man.”

Quinn pressed his mouth on Cade’s warm, welcoming lips. He kissed him back, burrowing his hands possessively inside Quinn’s tee shirt.

“You’re mine,” Cade whispered. “Don’t ever forget that.”

Chapter 19

Quinn sat quietly at the table in the Consortium boardroom watching the interplay between several members of the Council. He’d arrived that morning to a rousing cheer of “well done” for his part in the recent Witchfinder General episode and it appeared that the general consensus was that it had been a great success and a moment that would go down in Consortium history. However, when he’d told them about Valensia’s visit and her suggestion about an alliance between the Warlocks of the Consortium and the witches of the Praetorium, the room had exploded in a sudden outbreak of sheer madness. There were some who supported the idea, like Justin Leichner, who’d recently returned from his travels to Tibet. It went without saying that Percy and Quinn were in favour too. But others, like the bluff James Barton Sinclair and his fawning prodigy, Troy Cavanaugh, were instilling a sense of rebellion in the other Council members with their one-sided—and Quinn thought dangerous—point of view.

Since the Council was a democracy, he needed to let it play out and see where it took him. He was conscious of Percy beside him, holding himself back in difficulty as Barton Sinclair provided his view with his usual loud-mouthed diatribe of what Percy termed “utter bullshit.”

“You need to let him fizzle out,” Quinn murmured quietly. “Let’s hear what he has to say and then we’re forewarned. He has some powerful allies in this room and we need to see exactly who they are.”

Percy scowled, his chubby face furious. “You have allies too; more than that jackass. He’s such a fucking blowhard.”

“That’s as may be but let’s just play this by ear. Barton Sinclair is a bloody menace, but he has influence.” He watched with a frown as Barton Sinclair held forth on the dangers of collaborating with the witches. His words were inflammatory at best.

“For centuries they’ve not wanted our help or our resources. They’ve believed they can do it all on their own. Well, now we’ve finally rid them of the one bane
they
couldn’t get rid of and now they want to come back into the fold and create an ‘alliance.’ Well, I say fuck them. We’ve managed so far by ourselves.” Barton Sinclair scowled fiercely.

Troy Cavanaugh nodded, his long face serious as he toyed with a lock of hair by his ear. He was an ethereal-looking man, with dark brown curls wafting around his face and a tight-lipped mouth that hardly ever smiled in a face that was almost white in its pallor.

“Well put, James. I say let those poxy witches get along by themselves. We don’t need them.”

James nodded sagely. “Everyone knows you can’t trust bloody witches. They’re liars, cheats and more trouble than they’re worth.”

Percy’s hands clenched as he cast a furious look in James’s direction. Anger flared in Quinn’s chest, burning its way through his shirt. He was ready to erupt in a flash of sudden action and launch himself at Barton Sinclair to smack the self-satisfied smile off his face.

“James!” Quinn’s strident voice echoed over the noise of the current tableau, causing everyone to stop talking and look at him in surprise as he stood up, his hands flat on the table. “I think perhaps you forget that there are a few people in this room who are descended from witches, myself included, and hearing you vilify them like you are does nothing for your supposed sense of decency and temperance.”

Quinn’s voice was harsh, barely concealing its fury, and some of the others in the room looked around at each other in concern. Justin was watching the heated exchange with a fierce frown.

“Perhaps if you could cease your fucking drivel long enough to actually say something that makes better sense, people might take you more seriously.” Justin spat at Barton Sinclair.

Quinn knew he was making an even worse enemy of James but he was beyond caring. “Can everyone please sit down, shut up and we can outline the differing views and perhaps have an adult conversation instead of going off half cocked like a bunch of teenage boys in a locker room debating the latest merits of the football team.”

He rose to his full height and glared around the room, causing people to sit down quietly, toying with their pencils, waiting to see what happened next. Some of them were smiling, nodding in satisfaction at Quinn’s approach and inclining their heads slightly at him in support. Others, like Cavanaugh, were regarding him with barely concealed hostility.

James Barton Sinclair sat down slowly, never taking his eyes off Quinn’s.

“Well, it appears our Grand Master has spoken in no uncertain terms. Is this what happens when someone says something you don’t like? You use your formal decree and
tell
everyone what to do?”

Quinn knew just then that war had just been formally declared between him and James Barton Sinclair. He recognised the call to battle in the smug look in the other man’s eyes. “If that’s what I have to do to get both some civility and some structure to this meeting, then yes, that’s what I’ll do. Whilst I hold this ‘formal decree’ as you so eloquently put it, I’ll use it to best advantage.”

He looked around the room. “You’ve all heard the request from the Praetorium. They wish to work together going forward to help make both of our people safer and protected against any external or internal forces that seek to destroy it. You all know already I’m in favour of it. We might have defeated the Witchfinder General and taken that danger away, but there are others just like them that threaten us, some of them even within our own ranks. You remember the Warlock killings in Scotland last June. That was one of our own.”

He looked at the faces seated around the table. “Despite what anyone may think, the truth is that the Praetorium is a powerful organisation. With the right alliance, it could make us stronger and give us a much wider network to draw on in terms of our intelligence network. Not to mention Valensia has access to people in high places whom we’ve been unable to reach.”

“Does this council know about your past with the Regina? The fact you had a love affair with her many years ago?” Barton Sinclair murmured silkily. “In the interests of full disclosure, I think it prudent to mention that now.” He chuckled drily. “Valensia’s propensity for finding men in high places to get on her side is well known and no doubt some of these men are the ones Quinn has just referred to. Including Quinn himself.”

Quinn’s eyes regarded the other man with sheer dislike. “If they didn’t know, they do now. I have nothing to hide. This is nothing personal. This is a business decision and should be made rationally and without emotion.”

He didn’t miss Barton Sinclair’s disbelieving expression and raised eyebrow in his direction. Quinn wanted to choke the man until there was no more breath in his body.

He looked around the room. “You all have your ballots. On your way out, drop them in the box. They’ll be counted up by the ballot team and the results will be announced this evening. Thank you all for coming.”

He turned to Percy, who was regarding him with a worried expression.

“Fuck it,” Percy muttered as everyone started to file out, dropping their ballot papers in the box as they left. “That man has openly declared war on you. You’re going to have to watch him even closer than before.”

Quinn sighed. “I know. I shouldn’t have got so riled. But the man is a fucking idiot.” He rubbed his eyes. “I just hope we get enough votes to make an alliance. I really want this.”

“You could always do it regardless,” Percy said gently. “The ballot result wouldn’t stop you doing what you wanted anyway. You’d just have to do it on the sly.”

“That’s true enough, I suppose.” Quinn smiled tiredly. “But it would be good to have the Consortium’s support on this one.”

Justin Leichner sauntered up to his childhood friend. He had a huge grin on his face. “I’m glad to see you put that wanker in his place, Quinn. He was really starting to piss me off.”

Quinn sighed. “I know. I probably shouldn’t have. But it’s done now and I’ll need to manage the fallout.” He looked at his friend with a fond glance. “Anyway, I had you there to back me up. If things had gotten nastier we could have teamed up and given him a wedgie like we did to poor Ronald Gracie back in sixth form.”

Justin chortled with laughter. “God, I remember that. Poor Ronald couldn’t walk for a week, his balls were so sore. Not our finest hour, Quinn, but funny all the same.” He clapped his friend on the shoulder. “I have somewhere I need to be. I haven’t forgotten we still need to catch up on that drink. I promise I’ll be in touch as soon as I can sort out these bloody terrorists sabotaging my pipelines. It’s becoming a bit of issue and I need to teach them a lesson.”

Justin owned an oil company and currently he was having trouble with eco-terrorists damaging his oil fields and exploration sites. Quinn thought they’d be lucky not to be turned into maggots if Justin finally caught up with them. He nodded.

“I’ll hold you to that, old friend. Go well. Stay safe.”

Justin nodded and left the room. Quinn turned to Percy with a yawn. “Let me know when the ballot results are in. I’m getting off home for a shower and a whisky. It’s been a long day.”

Quinn went into the small library on the side of the boardroom to fetch his jacket. He shrugged his shoulders into it, sensing someone behind him as he did so. Troy Cavanaugh stood there, a sneer on his face.

“Troy. Is there something I can do for you?” Quinn picked up his scarf and tied it loosely around his neck as he regarded the other man.

“I just wanted to tell you that I think James would make a far better Grand Master than you. He has vision and isn’t so emotionally bound to the likes of witches and especially the Regina in particular. I think you’re going soft.”

He stood in front of the door, blocking Quinn’s exit.

Quinn snarled. “Well, partial as I am to hearing Council members’ points of view, I think I have to say, get the fuck out of my way. I don’t give a rat’s arse what you think, in fairness. You’re so far up Barton Sinclair’s backside, you two should be a couple.”

He chuckled nastily. “For all I know, you are. Stay out of my way, Troy.”

Troy paled at Quinn’s words, such a look of clear hatred crossing his face that for a minute, Quinn wondered if he’d struck a nerve. He left the room without a backward glance, feeling Troy’s eyes burning into his back. Five minutes later, having invoked his Withinner, Quinn was back in the entrance hall of his home, feeling a little ill but glad to be home. It was dim, the only light a fire flickering in the hearth, casting shadows on the wall and filling the room with warmth and the fragrance of pine cones. He took off his jacket and his scarf, hanging them on the coat rack and went over to pour himself a drink. It was only nine p.m. He wondered if Cade was still awake. That question was answered when he saw him descending the stairs in his sweatpants and tee shirt with a warm smile on his face.

“You’re back. How did it go?”

Quinn shook his head tiredly. “Not particularly well. Barton Sinclair was his usual charming self, and now he has a bloody acolyte, Troy Cavanaugh, which doesn’t help matters. Tossers, both of them.” He drank the whisky in his glass and poured another one and took a large slug.

Cade came over and grimaced in sympathy. “It must have been rough the way you’re knocking that back. Did the council members cast their ballots?”

Quinn nodded. “Yes. Percy will let me know the minute they’re in and counted.” He smiled at him. “What were you doing upstairs then? Reading in bed?”

Cade shook his head. “I was on the computer. Cooper sent over the trip itinerary for the Scotland research project and I was just taking a look at it to see if I could make the dates.”

Quinn frowned as he moved away to stare out of the window, sipping his whisky. “When are the dates, then?”

“August twentieth, through to the nineteenth of September. I think Ambrose will be happy for me to go.”

“And what about me? Would you be asking me if I’m happy for you to go, or were you just going to tell me you were?” Quinn knew he was being unreasonable but he couldn’t help himself. The pressures of the day still swirled beneath, his emotions tenuous.

Cade gazed at him with amazement. “I told you about this a while ago. You knew it was on the cards. This is my work. I also have a job, just like you do.”

The hurt in Cade’s voice cut Quinn to the core and he closed his eyes in shame. “I know that, I’m sorry. I just don’t like the idea of you being gone for a month and with that fellow Cooper.”

Cade came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist. Quinn put his drink down and leaned back into his lover, closing his eyes.

“Stop being so insecure about Cooper,” Cade whispered. “He’s just a friend and a colleague, and no man can hold a candle to you anyway, believe me. But I really want to finish this latest dissertation I’m busy with and the research project will help me do that.”

Cade came around and stood in front of him, his hands cupping Quinn’s face. “Do you really think I’d want to spend a month away from you if I didn’t need to? God, I’ll go crazy having no Quinn time for that length of time. We’ll have to make a plan for you to travel up via that Withinner of yours—if decorum allows. We wouldn’t want anyone seeing you suddenly appear.”

His mouth found Quinn’s greedily, forcing his lips apart as his tongue crept inside his mouth. Quinn moved his hands down to Cade’s arse, loving the feel of his body through the soft pants he wore as he pulled their hips closer together. Quinn’s erection pressed eagerly against the flat planes of Cade’s stomach. “You have far too many clothes on,” he whispered. “Take them off.”