Quinn's Lady (12 page)

Chapter 22

Serepta lapped up the last of her victim’s blood, then cast the dry husk aside. In the beginning, when she had first been turned, she had preferred blood to mortal food, but no more. She wasn’t sure what had caused the change, nor did she care. Still, unpleasant as it was, there was no denying the occasional need for blood if she wanted to survive.

But now it was time to destroy Quinn and reclaim the fire dragon’s power. How best to accomplish it? She could send him a message, asking him to meet her, but she doubted he would oblige, and if he did, she was certain he wouldn’t come alone. She didn’t want her parents to show up, not yet, not until she had decided how best to avenge herself on them. No, she wanted Quinn alone, bound and helpless. She wanted to hurt him, humiliate him, before she destroyed him.

She paced the great hall, considering and rejecting a dozen ideas.

And then she smiled, wondering why she hadn’t thought of it sooner.

Chapter 23

With a sigh, Seleena rested her head on Quinn’s shoulder. “I heard from Nardik while you were out. He says there’s still no sign of Serepta or Annis. I don’t know what else we can do.” She paused. “Do you think she killed Annis?”

Quinn rubbed his shoulder where the dragon had just bitten him. Maybe they needed to find a code name for Serepta. “I wouldn’t put it past her. But I think she’s toying with us. Just biding her time, hoping we’ll relax our guard.”

“I just wish it was over. It’s been three days. Amerris must be worried out of her mind. Marri, too.”

“Yeah.” But he was more worried about Seleena. She was in danger as long as Serepta lived. And even though he would willingly sacrifice his own life to save hers, he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to defeat Serepta. And that bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

With a wave of her hand, Seleena lit a fire in the hearth. “I made a cake today. Would you like a slice?”

He brushed a kiss across the side of her neck.  “I’m not really hungry for cake.”

“No?”

He shook his head. “What do you taste like, I wonder?”

“I’m sure you can guess.”

“Is that a no?”

She smiled up at him. “How could I refuse?”

“You’ve refused me plenty of times,” he muttered.

“Quinn…”

“Hey, it’s okay. I understand.”

“Do you?”

“Not really. I want you. I know you want me.” He shook his head. “Are you holding out for marriage?”

“Are you proposing?” She placed her fingertips over his mouth before he could reply. “Forget I said that.”

“It’s gonna happen, Red. I knew it the first time I saw you. I wish you’d tell me why you’re so reluctant.”

“You really don’t know?”

He started to say no and then, in a flash of inspiration, he knew. He leaned back a little so he could better see her face. “It’s Serepta, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “I can’t forget that you slept with my daughter.”

“Believe me, it wasn’t my idea.”

“It doesn’t matter. It happened and I can’t forget it.”

Just one more reason to kill the witch, he thought.

Seleena chafed at the tense silence that fell between them. Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything. She worried her lower lip between her teeth, then stood abruptly. “I’m going outside for a bit.”

“Is that a good idea?”

“I just need some air.”

And some time away from me, Quinn thought. He sat back, his gaze on the wall of moving pictures across from him, though not really seeing the ever-changing images of land and sea and sky. All this time he had assumed she was reluctant to share his bed because he was a vampire. Apparently, he couldn’t have been more wrong. Was it jealousy that made her hesitate? Perhaps some moral objection? Or both? And what was he going to do about it? Hel, what could he do? He couldn’t undo the past.

She had been outside about twenty minutes when he started to worry. Serepta had made her way up the mountain once before. Maybe she had again.

He hurried outside, breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Seleena standing a short distance away, gazing at the twin moons. Moving up behind her, he slid his arms around her waist. He had expected a little resistance; instead, she turned in his arms, clasped her hand behind his neck, and kissed him.

As soon as her mouth covered his, he knew it wasn’t Seleena. It was the last thing he remembered before darkness swallowed him whole.

#

He woke to find himself nearly naked in a room that was all too familiar. His arms were stretched over his head, his wrists manacled to an iron bar suspended from the ceiling, his ankles secured to bolts in the floor. The shackles, made of silver, burned his flesh and weakened his preternatural powers. The only furniture was a single chair. There were no windows. There was a grate directly beneath him surrounded by ugly, brown stains.

How long had he been here? The ache in his arms told him it had been more than minutes. Hours, perhaps. He called on his preternatural powers. Though weak, he sensed no one else within the castle walls.

Where was Seleena?

How had Serepta managed to bypass both of Nardik’s spells?

Where was Serepta?

How had she managed to overpower him so completely, so quickly?

Questions for which he had no answers.

Chin resting on his chest, he closed his eyes and shifted from one foot to the other. Minutes stretched into hours as time marched on, intensifying the ache in his arms and back and shoulders. He wondered how long it would take before the silver burned all the way through his flesh.

Quinn’s head jerked up at the scent of blood. Someone screamed, the sound filled with such torment it made his stomach clench. The blood scent grew stronger. His fangs extended as his hunger sprang to life. His hands fisted around the iron bar as another scream punctuated the silence, followed by the pungent scent of death.

His senses reached out, searching, but in spite of the cries and the overpowering smell of blood, he detected no one inside the castle. How was that possible?

He tensed as the door swung slowly open. Serepta stood in the doorway, as beautiful as he remembered, her hair falling in red waves over her shoulders. A long black gown outlined the curves he remembered so well.

She held a glass of dark-red liquid in her hand.

“Where’s Seleena?”

She smiled faintly. “Worried about my dear mother, are you? I’ve seen the way you look at her. The way she looks at you.”

“Where is she? If you’ve hurt her…”

“You’ll do what?”

“Rip your black heart out of your chest.”

She laughed softly as she closed the distance between them. “That hardly seems likely now, does it?”

He tensed when she walked behind him, flinched when she dragged her nails down his back. Blood trickled down his spine.

Quinn tracked her footsteps as she moved to stand in front of him again. He licked his lips when she lifted the glass and took a drink.

“Thirsty, are you?” she asked with a knowing grin.

He shook his head, a bald-faced lie. “Whose blood is that?”

She looked at the glass, then shrugged. “I didn’t ask his name.”

“What do you want?” It was a foolish question.

“I wanted you to love me,” she said, “but we can’t always have what we want, can we? Then, again, maybe we can.”

Eyes narrowing, he focused his senses on her, felt the shock of raw power that slammed into him. “Your magic!” he exclaimed. “How did you --?”

“You noticed!” She smiled, as if he had just paid her an unexpected compliment.  “How I missed it. And now it’s stronger than ever.” She glanced at the dragon tattoo. “And when you’re dead, I will be the most powerful witch in all of Brynn Tor and beyond.”

“Beyond?”

She laughed again. “Nardik was so certain he was the most powerful wizard in the universe. But he was wrong.” She drained the glass in her hand and flung it against the wall, where it burst into a thousand shards of crystal. Humming softly, she ran her fingers over his belly, hissed when he flinched at her touch. “Worried I’ll make you a statue again?” .

“No,” he retorted. “I’m worried I’ll have to sleep with you again.”

“Before I’m done with you, you will beg to come to my bed!”

“No way, witch. You might as well kill me now, because it will never happen.”

Face contorted with rage, she slapped him, hard, twice, and then vanished from his sight.

Quinn sagged against the chains that bound him, the pain in his body forgotten. Damn the witch! If she had Seleena imprisoned somewhere within the castle, he would do whatever Serepta asked of him. He would make love to her night and day, crawl on his belly like a snake, humiliate himself in any way she saw fit, because his life meant nothing to him if he couldn’t share it with the woman he loved.

Chapter 24

Seleena hesitated a moment before opening her front door. She had told Quinn she just needed some air, which had been partly true. But mainly, she had wanted to go home and make sure everything was all right in the village. It had been foolish, perhaps, to go alone, but she needed some space. Time to think. It was all out in the open now - her real reason for refusing to let him make love to her. When she said it out loud, it seemed inadequate, and yet she couldn’t seem to get past it. Sometimes, she dreamed of the two of them - Quinn rising over Serepta, his body sheened with sweat, his hands and lips caressing her daughter, their arms and legs tangled in silken sheets… Dreams, she thought. More like nightmares!

She wandered through her house. All was as she had left it. She stood in the doorway of Quinn’s room, wondering how long he would stay with her, now that he knew her innermost feelings. Her heart sank at the thought of a future without him. Until he came into her life, she hadn’t realized how empty her days were. How lonely she had been. How much she would miss him when he was gone.

Earlier, she had checked her mailbox, but there were no letters. No messages from any of the villagers asking for her help.

She took a last look around, fortified the wards on the house and all points of entry, then murmured the incantation that would take her back to Nardik’s.

Back to Quinn.

#

Seleena knew Quinn was gone the moment she stepped inside the Fortress. Even worse, she could have sworn she detected Serepta’s presence. But that should have been impossible. Nardik’s wards were still in place. Still strong. How had Serepta breeched them? It should have been impossible. Unless…

Returning to the yard, she murmured an incantation that allowed her to see the image of anyone who had recently been there. A gasp rose in her throat when she saw her own image standing beside Quinn. Another incantation showed the real people behind the images. Quinn remained the same, but the other image morphed into that of her daughter. How had Serepta regained her magic? And where was Quinn? She bit down on her lower lip, trying not to panic. She took several deep breaths, forcing herself to think, to concentrate. He could read her thoughts.

Was he able to read hers? Quinn? Quinn, can you hear me?

Red?
He had never heard anything more beautiful than the sound of her voice. For the first time, he was truly glad to be a vampire.

“Where are you?”

It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing you can do. Stay inside the Fortress and be safe.

I know you’re hurting.

I’ll be all right.

Maybe I can help with the pain.
He heard her chanting softly, caught the faint scent of a candle, of rosemary and sage and rue. Was it his imagination or could he almost feel her hands on his skin? Imagination or not, the pain lessened, became bearable. Disappeared.

Did it work? she asked anxiously.

Yes. Bless you, woman. You’re amazing.

Tell me where you are.

Not a chance. I don’t know how it happened, but she’s got her magic back, and it’s stronger than ever.

The dragon, Quinn. You have to wake the dragon. It’s the only way you can hope to defeat her.

Just wish I knew how.

Trust your instincts.

Yeah…I’ve got to go. She’s coming.

Serepta had changed out of the black dress she had been wearing and into a long white gown trimmed in white fur. Nearly transparent, it hinted boldly at the lush figure beneath. And tempted him not at all.

“White?” he drawled with all the disdain he could muster. “Really?”

She snarled at him and then, with a wave of her hand, opened a long, shallow gash the length of his left arm.

His blood dripped to the floor. A new stain, he thought, wondering how many others were his from times past.

She glared at him, her anger a palpable presence in the room. “I am going to kill you an inch at a time,” she promised, biting off each word. “And I am going to make my mother watch.”

Knowing she was trying to goad him, he said nothing.

She raked her nails down his cheek, then slammed out of the room, leaving the threat hanging in the air.

Quinn blew out a sigh of relief. When he had first met Serepta, she had ever been in control of her emotions. Even when furious, she had projected an outward calm. But she had no such control now. Perhaps he could turn her lack of restraint to his advantage.

And perhaps not.

#

Seleena’s heart went cold. Serepta had Quinn. Hadn’t she known, all along, that it would happen sooner or later? That no matter what they did, Serepta would somehow prevail. Brow furrowed, she doused the candle, then climbed the stairs to the fourth floor. Nardik’s presence was stronger here than anywhere else in the house.

Seleena made her way along the corridor to the room where he practiced his magic, with Freyja at her heels. Memories assaulted Seleena as she stood in the doorway. The room looked exactly as she remembered - large and square, the walls a pristine white, the floor made of gold-veined black marble. A narrow shaft of moonlight shone through the room’s small, round window. A long, oak table held an assortment of magical implements. It had been here that Nardik had shared his knowledge and his magic with her, here that he had seduced her. Here that Serepta had been conceived.

Shaking off thoughts of the past, she found a scrying bowl and filled it with water. It had been Nardik who taught her the ancient art. Egyptian magicians had used ink or blood or other dark liquids. Others used water. Many witches insisted on scrying within a magic circle to prevent outside influences. But that wouldn’t be necessary here.

She gazed into the bowl, her whole being focused on locating Quinn. For a moment, the water remained clear; then, gradually, it darkened and his image appeared. He was in a room, his arms stretched over his head, his wrists shackled to an iron bar. There was dried blood on his back, his cheek, and along his left arm.

Her tears dripped into the cauldron when she saw the burned flesh of his wrists and ankles
.
It was at that moment, seeing the results of Serepta’s cruelty, that her love for her daughter shriveled and died.

She brushed her tears away, her anger rising with her determination to free the man she loved, for love him she did. She smiled at Freyja, who sat patiently at her feet. “Best get used to him,” she said. “Because when I get him back, I’m never letting him out of my sight again.”

And she would get him back. She knew where he was. She had seen that room before, when they searched the Black Castle. “I’m coming, Quinn,” she murmured as she descended the stairs to the first floor. “Hold on.”

Anxious as she was to rescue Quinn, she wasn’t foolish enough to go alone.

Moving to the desk in the corner of the main room, she found a sheet of paper and an enchanted pen, scribbled a note to Nardik, dropped it into a bowl and set it on fire. A plume of thick yellow smoke rose from the bowl and wafted out the nearest window.

All she had to do now was wait.