Double Alchemy: Climax (27 page)

Percy glanced sideways at him, a faint smile on his face.

“Of course, by now you all know that my fiancé, Cade, has returned and things are slowly getting back to normal.” He smiled slightly. “As normal as they can be having gone through what we’ve been through.”

“I sympathise with your situation and I’m very glad your fiancé made it back.” Barton Sinclair’s words sounded sincere but the underlying tone was definitely one of challenge. “However, this Consortium needs people who can rise above such personal tragedies and continue to lead. I think there are some of us around this table who believe that perhaps your behaviour of the past few weeks has shown this not to be the case. I feel it would be remiss of me if I didn’t point this out.”

Good Lord, Quinn, this man is a moron. My offer of gutting him and throwing in the river still stands.

Quinn suppressed a smile at Taliesin’s angry words as he regarded James quietly. “James, for once in my life I cannot refute what you say. If the tables had been turned I might have been saying the same thing about whoever sat in this chair.”

“No, actually, you wouldn’t have. You’re far more compassionate than that.” Justin Leichner remarked laconically, his fingers slowly tapping on the table. Quinn looked at him in surprise as Justin turned his head and looked around the sea of faces that turned to him, waiting to see what he said next.

“Quinn here saw the man he loved stabbed to the core and found out he couldn’t heal him. He then had to put him in some bloody pond and wait to see if anything would happen. Then he disappeared under the water and Quinn didn’t see him for over three weeks. He didn’t know whether he was dead, rotting at the bottom of the water or alive and in the hands of some Fey race that no one’s seen for tens of years.”

Justin’s words were curt and he tapped louder on the table. The people around the table were quiet, Quinn included. “That scenario is bad enough for a Warlock, even a Grand Master. I’d hazard a guess nothing like that has ever happened to anyone else around this table?”

Justin’s tone was challenging as he looked around, inviting comment.

“No takers?” he murmured softly. “Then imagine what that must have felt like as a man. A normal human being with emotions. Because, gentleman, that’s what everyone around this table is as well as being a Warlock. We’re men. We feel, we grieve and we rejoice when good things happen. Sure, Quinn went off the rails a little.” He grinned at Quinn who grinned back, breathing a little easier now.

“But I think any one of us would have done the same. And what Quinn did or did not do in the last few weeks in no way mitigates what he’s done since he was twenty-one and took on the mantle his father had before him. I’m not going into detail on this because you all know how much he’s achieved. Not the least, recently destroying the Witchfinder General and putting in place an alliance with the Praetorium for the first time in centuries. So I think this man should be remembered for what he’s achieved. Not for what he didn’t do during one of the darkest periods of his life.”

Justin stopped tapping and sat back in his chair. Quinn felt a tremendous lump in his throat at his friend’s words and all he could do was nod wordlessly at him across the table. Justin winked.

This man is a true friend. He is honourable and sincere, two qualities hard to find in anyone nowadays.
Taliesin sounded almost choked up himself.

“What a lovely speech, Justin.” Barton Sinclair was sarcastic. “Eloquent and touching. You should be a poet. Notwithstanding, of course, the fact that the two of you are friends. The fact remains—”

“Bite me, B.S.,” Justin said curtly. “Is that eloquent enough for you?”

James glared at the younger man who met his gaze flatly. Quinn thought he’d better step in quickly before the two men came to blows. “Justin. Thanks for those—”

He was stopped from saying anything further by a loud clap from somewhere around the table. Then another. Before long, men were standing up and clapping loudly, drowning out anything Barton Sinclair was trying to say.

Quinn stood speechless as Percy grinned widely beside him and Justin smiled down at the table even as he clapped too. Some men remained seated, scowling fiercely, and Quinn guessed they were the Barton Sinclair supporters. Finally the clapping abated.

“Quinn, most of us around this table did not doubt you.” A large, stocky man smiled warmly at Quinn. Frederick Mulbarton was a well-respected Warlock from the North. “We knew you had a personal tragedy. We also knew that when you were ready, you’d return. We counted on Percy to keep us to date, which he did admirably. I for one am glad your tragedy had a happier ending and I look forward to your continued presence as Grand Master around this table.”

“I concur.” Avery Smith-Barker smiled at Quinn. “Thank you for your honesty with us, Quinn. It makes a change from the usual bluster we hear spoken around this table.”

Quinn suppressed a grin knowing Avery was referring to Barton Sinclair. There was no love lost between the two men.

“Gentlemen, thank you for your continued confidence in me. I promise you I will do everything possible to keep this Consortium on track. I do however owe a debt of thanks to Percy Ballantyne, my Marshall, for his support, his unswerving confidence in me and his friendship. Percy, my friend, I owe you one.”

Percy inclined his head, graciously accepting Quinn’s praise and his IOU. “And I’ll collect, Quinn,” he murmured. “Have no fear of that.”

Quinn chuckled at the words as he moved over to Justin Leichner who was standing quietly in the corner of the room. “I can’t thank you enough for what you said,” Quinn said softly. “You saved my bacon today and I don’t know how I can ever repay that.”

Justin shook his head. “I meant every word. We all know you’re the best person for this job. You’ve been proving it since we were at school together. No one is ever going to take that away from you whilst I’m around, least of all that bloody idiot.”

He cast a scathing glance at James Barton Sinclair who was huddled deep in conversation at the boardroom table with Troy and two other men.

“Watch him, Quinn.” Justin said quietly. “I’ve heard rumours about him planning on taking your seat and he’s like a spider. He’ll bide his time until he thinks he can eat you alive. Don’t turn your back on him or his bloody sycophant Troy. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they were more than just friends—more like butt buddies. Troy’s so far up his arse.”

Quinn shook his head in amusement, remembering he’d said almost the same thing to Troy. “Stop rumour mongering. That’ll be all I need, accusations of sodomy in the ranks.” He grew serious again. “If you ever need anything, you know where to find me. Anything, anytime. You know that.”

Justin reached out and softly touched Quinn on the arm. “I know, Quinnster. And if I need you, I’ll call.”

Quinn chuckled. “I haven’t been called that since I was at school with you. That brings back memories. Like the night we broke into the school kitchen and stole all the picnic baskets that had just been filled. We took them to the local girl’s dorm, remember?”

Justin grinned. “I remember. I also remember taking the booze from the Headmaster’s cabinet with us as well. I think that might have been my first hangover.”

The two men smiled at each other in shared camaraderie.

Justin sighed. “I’d better be getting off. I need to be in Moscow as soon as possible. Some more pipelines to double check and my company have a bit of a rebel problem at the moment that I need to sort out. It’s not an easy business, this oil game.”

“Sounds just up your alley. Look after yourself and stay in touch.”

Quinn watched as the other man disappeared. He stretched tiredly and looked around the room. Everyone had gone, including Percy. It was time to get home to Cade. The last few days had been euphoric, catching up together, and he’d had more sex than he knew what to do with. Cade was certainly making up for the weeks of abstinence. Quinn was aware he’d changed subtly, become more empowered and certainly more in touch with his Fey side, and despite the misgivings he still had about that, he certainly wasn’t complaining.

Cade had also taken great pleasure in being able to drench Quinn with large waves from the pond just by focusing on the water, and was intent on creating water whirlpools, although that was taking some practice. He hadn’t yet had the opportunity to try out his own healing power despite Quinn offering himself up as subject, exhorting Cade to cut him so he could try fixing him. Cade had scowled and told him in no uncertain terms that wasn’t happening.

Quinn grinned. “I imagine you’ve been having a whale of a time too, Taliesin.” he murmured. “It’s been pretty intense, hasn’t it?”

His Withinner’s voice sounded slightly aggrieved when he replied.

I have not been present at all your lovemaking sessions. I have attempted to withdraw myself from the proceedings to give you and Cade privacy. After what you both went through, it was only fair.

“Thank you, old friend, I appreciate the sentiment.” He frowned. “But now begins the difficult part. He needs to know about the dangers he faces now that he’s more in tune with his powers. That’s not going to go down well with him. I may need your help.”

He is indeed going to attract many unsavoury characters who wish to use his healing powers for themselves. Cade will need to be very careful. If I can help in any way, you have only to ask.

“Thanks.” Quinn picked up his scarf and wound it around his neck.

“Best get on home and have that conversation, then,” he said gloomily. “He’ll freak out and say he can look after himself and I’m going to have the devil of a job convincing him he can’t.”

It never fails to astound me how you can face down a whole Council of Warlocks and various nefarious characters who mean you harm but still quiver in your boots when you have to tell your man something he does not want to hear. It amuses me greatly.

Quinn scowled. “This isn’t just a man, Withinner. This is bloody Cade. It’s not the same thing.”

Chapter 27

Cade sat in the back garden, his latest thesis and research papers spread before him in an untidy sprawl. The mid-afternoon July sun warmed his body as he wrote copious notes and reminders in the margins of the document he was working on.

Ambrose Tickler Brown had been very grateful seeing him back after Quinn’s very inventive story about his lengthy disappearance. His fiancé’s original cover tale had been that they’d both needed a break from one another after an altercation and one of the other major French universities had requested Cade’s presence on a dig in the South of France. Quinn had said that they were willing to pay a lot of money to the Institute for his time and the two of them thought it would be a good idea to be apart for a while. Of course, QuinnCo (ergo Quinn) had put up the funds, but Ambrose had been only too happy to accept the very generous donation in return for Cade’s absence once Quinn had sweet talked him into it. Ambrose had also expressed his fervent wish that he hoped they worked things out. Cade had actually been a little aggrieved at the fact that the professor had been happy to pimp him out and rearrange his classes with such alacrity in return for the huge donation. Quinn had shaken his head in amusement at Cade’s reaction.

Cade had been researching the history of the Picts and the life of Kenneth MacAlpin as a favour to Cooper. The planned research trip to Crieff in Scotland with Cooper and the rest of the team from the Institute had been planned for late August, only a few weeks away. As keen as he’d been to go before getting almost fatally stabbed, Cade wasn’t all that sure now that he wanted to leave Quinn for such an amount of time. Sitting there sucking his pen, he realised that his priorities had changed.

“I suppose that’s what a near-death experience does to you, Marco,” he murmured to the cat lying curled up on the tabletop in the sun, his paws spread over one of the research documents. Marco was used to their one-sided conversations and Cade loved the fact he never disagreed with anything he said.

“I missed him when he wasn’t there with me. It was like a whole part of me was gone. I knew he’d be blaming himself for what happened to me, although I never thought he’d grow a beard like Sir Walter Raleigh and stop eating.”

His voice quietened as the thought of Quinn’s torment. “But I suppose if that hadn’t happened he’d never have got in a temper in his study and he’d never have found those letters from Edward Mistral.”

Cade sighed as he scratched Marco Polo behind the ears and the cat purred and stretched his legs. He heard a loud rustling noise at the bottom of the garden in front and he peered at the area curiously. It sounded like a fairly large animal. The cat had heard something too. He sat up, his ears flattened against his head and a slight hiss emanating from his dainty mouth. His blue eyes regarded the bushes with suspicion.

“There’s nothing there. It was probably just a squirrel or another cat.” Cade stood up and stretched. “I’m just going inside to get a glass of wine. If I’m going to carry on with this studying, I need a boost.”

He disappeared into the house. When Cade came out a few minutes later, Marco Polo had gone. He looked around the garden, and not seeing him, shrugged and sat down to finish his research.

Quinn arrived back at home later that afternoon, looking tired but fairly elated that his position as Grand Master was still supported by the majority of his Council. He helped himself to a beer and sat with Cade outside in the garden.

“Justin was a real trooper. I didn’t know he was so articulate.” Quinn grinned as he remembered his friend’s words to James Barton Sinclair. “But he warned me that James was plotting something. I’ll need to be careful around him.” He drank his beer in appreciation as he looked over at Cade. “How’s the research going? Will you be ready for your trip to Scotland then?”

Cade knew from previous conversations that Quinn wasn’t altogether convinced he was happy about him going but he was supporting it anyway. He nodded.

“I’ll be ready in time. But I was telling Marco earlier, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go anymore.”