Quinn's Revenge Page 6

  Beside her, she heard Nardik murmuring under his breath, knew he was weaving a protective spell around them.

  Quinn sniffed the air. “Dixx isn’t coming.”

  Seleena looked at him. “How can you be so sure?”

  “He’s dead.” There was no mistaking the smell of bloodshed and death.

  “What?” She glanced around, but saw nothing to confirm Quinn’s words.

  “Trust me.”

  “Where is the Airship?” Nardik wondered aloud.

  “I’m guessing whoever killed him took it and hid it somewhere,” Quinn said. “Or they destroyed it.”

  Seleena took Quinn’s arm. “What do we do now?”

  Night had fallen an hour ago. Low cloud cover hid the moon and stars. Something -- a bird, perhaps -- let out a screech the likes of which she had never heard. It sent chills down her spine and made her stomach churn.

  Quinn listened to the animals stirring just a few yards away. From the scent, he knew at least one of them was like the beast that had attacked him earlier. “I suggest we go back to Melinna’s and ask her to put us up for the night.”

  Seleena wasn’t about to argue. She was certain that Nardik and Quinn could protect her, and themselves, but the thought of spending the night in the open, surrounded by carnivores and bugs the size of bats was not at all appealing.

  “Are we agreed that returning to Melinna’s is our best option?” Nardik asked.

  “Yes,” Seleena exclaimed. “Get us out of here!”

  Chapter 10

  If Melinna was surprised to find them back on her front porch, it didn’t show on her face. Opening the door wide, the witch waved them inside. As it had before, the bird squawked and flapped its wings as they crossed the threshold.

  A quick glance told Quinn the witch had been expecting them. Food and drink awaited them on the coffee table in the living room.

  “Help yourselves,” Melinna invited. Her brows arched in surprise when Quinn filled a plate with meat and cheese. “How is this possible?” she asked.

  “A little of Seleena’s magic,” he replied.

  Melinna frowned. “You no longer need blood?”

  Quinn grunted softly. “I’m afraid there isn’t enough magic in the universe -- white or black -- to change that.”

  “Still, from what I know of vampires, it is quite remarkable.”

  “I can’t argue with that.”

  “I have prepared places for you to sleep,” Melinna said. “When you are ready.”

  * * *

  Careful not to disturb Seleena, Quinn slipped out of bed. Melinna’s dinner had filled his belly, but it hadn’t satisfied his hunger.

  He paused when he reached the living room. Unlike her other two guests, Melinna was still awake. She sat on the floor in front of the fireplace, gazing into the depths of a small black cauldron. The bird perched on her shoulder.

  “Vampire, come sit with me.”

  Quinn expanded his senses. Detecting no danger, he sat cross-legged beside her. “What are you looking for in there?”

  “Wyrick’s location.”

  “I get the feeling you’re not too fond of him.”

  She snorted. “If he were here, I would rip his black heart from his chest.”

  “What’s between you two?”

  “A century and a half ago, a friend gave me a rare gift. Wyrick took it from me.”

  Talk about carrying a grudge, Quinn thought. But then, he would have hunted Serepta to the ends of the earth to exact vengeance, whether it had taken years or centuries. “What did he take?”

  “It was a talisman infused with unusual properties, something that could only be used once. Wyrick wanted it and when I refused to give it to him, he stole it from me.”

  A hundred and fifty years ago, Quinn mused. In spite of her gray hair, Melinna didn’t look like she had been around that long. Just how old was she? And what kind of gift, exactly, had her friend given her? If he asked, would the witch confide in him?

  He felt her watching him. Turning his head, he met her gaze, felt the force of it slam into him. In spite of her grandmotherly appearance, she possessed a hell of a magical wallop.

  “You have a tattoo.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact.

  Quinn nodded.

  “Though you wear it, it was not meant for you, was it?”

  He laughed softly. “The tattoo was intended to serve the witch who conjured it, but she made one little mistake. Now it’s mine.”

  “Who was this careless witch?”

  Quinn tensed as the dragon stirred.

  “Was her name by chance Serepta?” Melinna’s voice was little more than a whisper, but barely controlled anger radiated from her like Hel’s own fire. She rose to her feet, her eyes blazing with hatred.

  Quinn sucked in a breath when the dragon sank its teeth into his flesh. “You’ve known all along,” he said, his voice flat. “You killed Dixx, didn’t you? That’s how you knew we’d come back here.”

  “Clever vampire.”

  Quinn scrambled to his feet as the witch began to chant, her voice echoing off the walls like rolling thunder. Dark magic gathered around her, growing stronger, more intense. It crawled along his arms, raised the hairs at the base of his neck, churned like acid in the pit of his stomach as he became the focus of all that destructive power.

  The bird took flight as Melinna rose in the air, her feet inches off the ground, her arms stretched out at her sides.

  Quinn stumbled backward. He ripped off his shirt as he felt the dragon take on physical form and slither down his arm.

  Melinna unleashed the spell with a quick wave of her wand, let out a startled cry as the dragon, now eight feet tall and angry, put his body between her and Quinn. She screamed when the curse, meant for Quinn, ricocheted off the dragon’s scales and struck her in the chest, just over her heart.

  Eyes wide with disbelief, she spiraled slowing to the floor, then staggered backward, blood pouring from the gaping hole in her chest, leaking from her mouth as she tumbled into the fireplace. She screamed as her hair and clothing immediately caught fire, uttered a cry for help as she made a desperate attempt to crawl out of the flames.

  A puff of the dragon’s breath incinerated her body, leaving only a few ashes to mingle with those in the hearth. As the witch disintegrated, her familiar disappeared.

  Muttering, “Thanks, Dragon,” Quinn groped his way to the sofa and sat down. Breathing heavily, he stared at what was left of the witch.

  A moment later, Nardik and Seleena ran into the room, only to come to a sliding stop when they saw the dragon curled in front of the hearth like an overgrown cat.

  Seleena wrinkled her nose. “What is that awful smell?”

  Quinn pointed at the fireplace. “Roast witch.”

  Eyes wide, she stared at the dragon. “Did he…?”

  “Yeah. Seems Melinna had a grudge against me.”

  “A grudge?” She darted past Nardik and the dragon to sit beside Quinn.

  The wizard remained in the doorway, arms folded over his chest, brow furrowed.

  “How could she have a grudge against you?” Seleena asked. “The two of you just met.”

  Quinn dragged a hand over his jaw. There were a lot of things he would rather do than mention Serepta’s name and stir up the past.

  “Quinn?”

  He blew out a sigh of resignation. “She asked about the tattoo and when I told her it was conjured by a witch, she asked if it was Serepta.” At the mention of her name, the dragon growled softly. “Melinna didn’t say, but I got the feeling that she and your daughter used to be pretty close. Anyway, when I said Serepta had conjured the dragon but now it was mine, Melinna got angry and started conjuring a spell of her. When she unleashed it, the dragon stepped between us and the curse ricocheted off his chest and hit the witch. She fell into the fire and the dragon finished her off.”

  Seleena shuddered as she imagined Melinna being incinerated by the dragon’s breath. />
  “One must always be careful when weaving deadly enchantments,” Nardik remarked with a chuckle. “You never know when they will backfire.”

  Chapter 11

  Seleena sighed as Quinn’s arm curled around her waist. The dragon again resided on his shoulder, eyes closed, tail wrapped around his bicep. Nardik had returned to bed hours ago, but she couldn’t sleep. Quinn had swept up Melinna’s ashes and thrown them outside to be scattered by the wind, but every time she closed her eyes, vivid images of the witch going up in flames danced before her.

  With all that had happened, the thought of spending the night in Melinna’s house was unsettling, to say the least, but they had nowhere else to go. As for Quinn, staying awake all night was no hardship for her vampire.

  Earlier, Nardik had come to the conclusion that Melinna had cast a sleeping spell on Seleena and himself to keep them from coming to Quinn’s aid. When the witch died, the spell had been broken.

  Seleena had asked Quinn to tell her everything Melinna had told him. She had been pondering it ever since. “Do you think Serepta was the ‘close friend’ she mentioned?”

  He swore softly as the dragon bit him. “I’m sure of it.”

  “What do you suppose Ser…” Seleena caught herself before she mentioned Serepta’s name again. “What do you think my daughter gave Melinna that Wyrick wanted so badly?”

  “Beats me. Some kind of talisman that could only be used once, she said, no doubt for some nefarious purpose.”

  “Do you think she killed Dixx?”

  “I’m sure of it. I can’t think of anyone else who would have any reason to kill him. She must have gone after him as soon as we went to bed.”

  Seleena shook her head. “She never intended for us to leave here alive, did she?”

  “No. I think Melinna planned to kill all of us as soon as she heard Wyrick’s name. Once we were out of the way, I’m thinking she would have gone to Brynn Tor, joined up with her sister, and tried to take Wyrick out.”

  Seleena pondered that for several moments before asking, “How are we ever going to get back home now?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that. I’m going out to look for our missing Airship. If it’s in one piece, I can fly us out of here tomorrow morning.”

  “You’re going now? Tonight?”

  “You worried about me?” he asked with a wry grin.

  “I guess not.” If the dragon could take out a dark witch, one of those hideous cat-like creatures probably wouldn’t be a problem. “But be careful anyway.”

  “Always.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “It shouldn’t take me long, Red. You don’t have to wait up.”

  But he knew she would.

  * * *

  The sights and sounds of the night enveloped Quinn as soon as he stepped out the door. He loved the darkness, loved the night. It hadn’t always been so. In the beginning, he had hated what he was and everything about it, but with the passage of time, he had come to accept his new life. And then to embrace it.

  The darkness had become his friend, his accomplice. It hid him from his enemies and his prey. It surrounded him, strengthened him in ways he didn’t understand. For a moment, he stood motionless in the deep shadows, eyes closed as the night’s essence slowly seeped into him.

  His head snapped up as a low growl drifted to him on the wind, and with it, the scent of predator.

  Quinn smiled, muscles flexing, fangs descending, as the big cat padded stealthily toward him. “Come on, kitty,” he called softly. “I need to feed.” Human blood would have been better, but he was too hungry to be picky.

  The big cat paused, ears pricked forward, at the sound of his voice.

  Gathering his power, Quinn mesmerized the cat. He didn’t want this one dead. He needed to feed and he had never cared for drinking the blood of dead things, human or animal.

  Easing his hunger didn’t take long. When he was done, he released the animal from his thrall, then dissolved into mist and floated out of the cat’s reach.

  Resuming his own form some distance away, Quinn transported himself to the place where they had left the Airship. Walking in ever-widening circles, he found it in a large clearing in the midst of a stand of tall timber. He caught a whiff of Melinna’s magic as he neared the craft, but whatever spell she had concocted to shield or protect the ship had apparently died with her.

  He walked around the Aircraft, checking for damages, but found none.

  Nodding, he returned to the witch’s house.

  Tomorrow, they would head for home.

  * * *

  “Are you sure you can fly this thing?” Nardik asked, making himself comfortable himself in one of the passenger seats.

  “If you’re worried, I’ve got no problem leaving you behind,” Quinn muttered as he checked the instrument panel and started the engine.

  With a “humph” of disdain, the wizard folded his arms over his chest.

  “Where did you learn to fly?” Seleena asked, settling into the co-pilot’s seat.

  “From Jagg.” The man had taught him a thing or two that didn’t involve murder, treachery, deceit, or blackmail.

  “Do you think the address Melinna gave us is really her sister’s?” she asked.

  Quinn shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’ll be surprised if it is.” They had been far too trusting of the witch, he mused as the Airship lifted off, and it had almost cost them their lives. “Like I said before, I think once she found out Wyrick might be on Callidori, she planned to get rid of us, pick up her sister, and light out after him. Might have been an interesting confrontation, watching the two of them slug it out.”

  “What if Alexxa isn’t in Ironntown?”

  “No sense worrying about it until we get there.” He ran his hands over the control panel, entering the coordinates for Brynn Tor. He hadn’t flown an Airship since he worked for Jagg, and never one quite like this, but the controls were similar and it took only minutes to get a feel for the craft.

  He slid a glance at Seleena. She was a white knuckle flyer. He covered her hand with his, then winked at her. “Relax, Red. I know what I’m doing. We’ll be home in no time at all.”

  Chapter 12

  Annis glanced surreptitiously at Killian, her insides curling with pleasure at the mere sight of him. Through all her worry and angst over Corrie’s whereabouts, he had been a great comfort. When she was overcome with sorrow, his mere presence was soothing, somehow. When she felt depressed, he told her silly jokes to make her smile. When she felt listless, he insisted she get out of the castle. He accompanied her on walks through the gardens, took her swimming when the weather was warm enough, rode at her side when she wanted to go riding.

  At Marri’s suggestion, Killian taught her how to use a bow and arrow. To Annis’ surprise, she was quite a good shot, perhaps because she pictured the monsters who had taken her daughter as the target.

  Today, they were fishing at the river. At least Killian was fishing. Annis sat on the grass, watching him, admiring the way his linen shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, his muscular thighs, the sharp lines of his profile, the ease with which he cast the line, the way his eyes constantly scanned their surroundings. He was always on guard, no matter where they were or what they were doing.

  She flushed when he turned his head and caught her staring, although he was surely used to it by now.

  He jerked his chin toward her fishing pole. “You’ve a bite, Princess.”

  “What? Oh!” She had been so engrossed in admiring him she hadn’t even noticed.

  “Easy now,” he said as she reeled it in. “Don’t jerk the line.”

  Lower lip clamped between her teeth, she concentrated on landing the fish, let out a hoot of surprise when she saw how big it was.

  “Biggest catch of the day,” Killian remarked as he took the fish off the line and dropped it into the bucket.

  She grimaced as he put a fat pink worm on her hook and tossed the line back in the water.

  “Wha
t’s the matter?” he asked.

  “Do you…do you think it hurts them?”

  Killian frowned, then lifted one brow. “The worms?” He bit back a grin. “Are you feeling sorry for the bait?”

  “And the fish,” she admitted sheepishly. Fishing had been his idea and as much as she like being with him, she didn’t think she wanted to do it again. She had always been too soft-hearted for her own good. It had always grieved her to see anything in pain.

  Thinking Annis had to be kidding, Killian started to laugh, then frowned when he realized she was serious. “We don’t have to fish, if you’d rather not.”

  “Don’t let me stop you.”

  “Annis…”

  Something in the tone of his voice made her stomach flutter with anticipation. She blinked up at him when he took the pole from her hand and laid it beside his.

  Seconds stretched between them as his gaze met hers.

  She licked lips gone suddenly dry when he reached for her hand.

  “Annis.” He didn’t seem to be able to say anything but her name. But she knew what he wanted, because she wanted it, too, even though it was wrong. So very wrong. She was married to another man, a horrible man, but then again, maybe the marriage had been nothing but a farce, as had Rajj’s oft-professed love for her.

  She didn’t protest when Killian enfolded her in his arms, holding her close, closer, until they were only a breath apart. At his nearness, warmth flooded her senses and with it, the feeling that she was exactly where she belonged, exactly where she was meant to be.

  “Killian.” She yearned toward him. She wanted him, she thought, needed him the way a flower needed sunlight, a fish needed water. How could she be thinking of making love to him when Corrie was missing, she thought with a stab of guilt. She had no idea where her daughter was, if she was alive or...or not. And yet here she stood, longing for Killian to make love to her. What kind of horrible mother was she, to be thinking of such a thing at a time like this?

  Killian frowned as he watched the play of emotions across her face. “Do you want me to go?”