Lunar Marked (Sky Brooks Series Book 4) (8 page)

Sebastian placed his hand behind me and was guiding me out the door, with Gavin close behind, when Sable asked Gavin, “Do you miss her?”

“I notice she’s gone.” His tepid look matched his voice.

She steadied her gaze on him. “I hope she’s dead.”.

He stared at her for a long time, expressionless. “You and I are done.”

She scowled and exploded from the sofa so quickly, she seemed to have taken flight. Fangs exposed like daggers, she lunged at Gavin. He grabbed her, quickly moving to the side, bundling her arms against her in a hold that immobilized her. He pressed his lips against her hair and spoke softly. Yelling and screaming, she thrashed against him, spewing curses and threats. I took mental note, because she was blasting some good ones. I’m wasn’t sure what a “Fuck twat” was but it seemed as good an insult as any.

He loosened his grip, and she grabbed his arm and sank her teeth into him, gnawing at him out of anger. Gavin remained still, vaguely interested in what she was doing. Demetrius called her name several times but in her fit of rage, she ignored him. His eyes narrowed, his features hardened to stone and it looked like he was about to intervene, when Gavin spoke.

“She’s fine. Let her get it out,” he said softy. But she wasn’t fine. She was an avalanche of uncontained emotions trying to inflict as much pain on Gavin as possible to abate the ones that she was feeling.

Finally, she sagged against him, resting her head against his chest. For a long moment he let her rest against him, then he brushed her hair away and kissed her tenderly on her temple and slipped out the door.

She dropped her head, sadness draping her like a blanket. When she looked at the open door, her eyes fluttered several times as though she was blinking back tears.

Dammit, I actually feel sorry for her. I need air.

We headed for the door, but before we could leave, Demetrius stopped Sebastian. “I am confident that you will use all your available resources to find Kelly. And I would like to be notified when she is found,” he asserted with the confidence one would expect when giving a task to a personal assistant.

Sebastian’s smile lacked humor. They did seem to gather a great deal of pleasure annoying each other and making attempts to display their dominance every chance they could. I agreed with Josh: they almost needed each other in a sick codependent way. “I want you to wait on the notification. Will you do that?” And with that he ushered us out the door.

Gavin was driving off by the time we got to Sebastian’s car.

“Do we have a pack therapist?” I asked, opening the car door.

Sebastian’s brows rose. “Yes, I can have him contact you.”

“Me? I don’t need a therapist, but you saw what just went on there. Gavin’s not right. There is something wrong with him.”

Sebastian shrugged. “He’s fine. He handled her well.”

Fine. Well.
We definitely aren’t using the same source for any of our words.
“I don’t think so. If we ever need any information from Sable, he’s just ensured that we will never get any. I think she hates him.”

With a shrug of indifference Sebastian opened the door. “What you saw in there wasn’t hate. He probably just ensured that she will help us. She will do anything now to please him. To get him back. I doubt she will do anything to hurt Kelly, but now at least we know she will help.” He shook his head before he ducked into the car. “The relationships you and Gavin have with
your
vampires are complex.”

Our
vampires. It was hard not to be offended by that. My relationship with Quell was so different from the complex thing that went on between Gavin and Sable. “Can I get a copy of the dysfunctional playbook you all are using? Because what Quell and I have and whatever is going on with Gavin and Sable is very different.”

He frowned. “One day you will see it as we all do, there isn’t a difference.”

I didn’t get in the car immediately, stopped in my tracks by the comparison. Was my relationship as warped and disturbing as Sable and Gavin’s? Both Sable and Quell were two sides of a damaged coin, a human life cursed with death, pain, and sorrow only finding solace in vampirism.

Sebastian was studying me with interest. “Some things you can’t fix. They are too damaged, necrotic, and will only infect the rest of the body. You don’t keep that limb, you sever it from the body. You’ve taken him as part of you, and he is in fact dead flesh, and if you let him, he will destroy the body. You need to understand that I care more about saving the body, and eventually if you don’t make the decision to sever it, I will.”

I was so tired of the “necrotic tissue, gaping wound that can’t be repaired” argument. Quell wasn’t like that. And I was about to respond when Sebastian’s focus moved from me to the jackal that was slowly backing into the woods. It disappeared before we could go after it.

* * *

T
oo many things
went through my mind to rest at home when Sebastian dropped me off, so I got in my car and went for a drive. I’d like to say I was on autopilot and it was coincidental that I ended up at Quell’s home, but I wasn’t. It was intentional, because I wanted to see him. Ethan’s warning haunted me. Michaela wasn’t above hurting him to get back at me, and we had to work something out. Something had to give, but my motives were masked by selfishness and I wasn’t proud of it. I needed succor. The type that, for some odd reason, Quell provided. He once said that I was his link to humanity and benevolence. I disagreed with that; at times I felt I was deficient in both. I felt my hold on kindness and altruism was slipping. He was darkness, void of something he claimed he lost in WWII. He didn’t go into detail, but he said he had experienced moral fatigue and it was during that time he had betrayed humanity and become the monster he thought he was fighting. He felt there was a void where his humanness should have been, and the guilt had led him to Michaela and being changed into a vampire. He said she saved him because vampires aren’t burdened by expectations of humanity and altruism. Most of them were self-indulgents who felt their pleasure and desire trumped all and took umbrage with anyone who dared to think differently.

I knew I needed to distance myself from Quell, but it wasn’t as easy as Sebastian and Ethan wanted to believe. A barrage of curses came out, not even under my breath, but loud enough that if anyone was within a foot of my car, they would have heard them. Ethan’s ostentatious car was parked behind a dark blue Subaru, and I was about to back out of the driveway and leave when he stepped out of the house. He was next to the car before I could start reversing.

His unctuous smile made me want to back away with him holding the door. But instead, I gave him a smile just as wide and even more insincere. I glared at his extended hand but took it after a few moments of contemplation.
Fine. I’ll play your little game.

“I’m so glad you are here.” And then he gave me his trademark smirk.

Can I just go a week without seeing it?

“As if you could stay away.” His hand slipped down my arm, and his fingers intertwined with mine. He tightened his grasp each time I tried to tug my hand away. “We asked you to stay away, which undoubtedly ensured that you would be over here as soon as you could,” he said.

“I hadn’t heard from him in a couple of days. I was just checking on him.”

“Of course. After all, him managing to stay safe and alive the seventy years he had prior to meeting you was clearly a coincidence. And he can’t possibly take care of himself.”

We were in the house before I could respond, so instead we both fixed phony smiles and kept our snide remarks to ourselves.

“I thought I heard Sky outside,” Ethan said.

Of course you heard me. You can hear changes in someone’s heart rate, you freak, why the hell wouldn’t you hear a car?

I kept my comment to myself and played nice. Even Quell was doing it, because he disliked Ethan as much as Ethan disliked him.

With all this fakery someone should get an award or something.
We seemed to be putting on the performance for the blonde sitting next to Quell on the sofa.

“This is Fiona,” Quell said, introducing the very attractive woman.

Perhaps I came in at the wrong time, or missed the tale that Quell must have told because she looked intrigued by him and whatever he had to say. A gentle curl nestled on the ends of her generous lips. I pulled my gaze from her to Quell, who had a smile on his face—a rare sighting and one I couldn’t believe was being brought out by this stranger. My attention bounced between them as I attempted to ignore his gaze laid heavily on me.

I focused on her. Her voluminous hair was upswept, exposing her long languid neck that seem to be of great interest to Quell. Periodically, he would focus on her features, which mirrored his own striking good looks. His appearance was the reason Michaela was drawn to him. Often taking credit for his beauty in the way only a narcissist could, she took accolades for something that clearly belonged to his parents. Fiona’s honey-colored eyes stared at me with interest, her full lips spread into a wide smile. Delicate features perfected her heart-shaped face and genteel appearance.

Dressed in a simple pair of blue slacks and a pale pink flounced shirt that did nothing to brighten her parchment skin, she looked comfortable next to Quell. Her and Quell’s were the only authentic relaxed attitudes in the room. Quell’s Tuscany-inspired home always made me feel like I was in the Italian countryside. The subtle variations of colors on the walls added a warmth that Fiona seemed to appreciate.

“Nice to meet you.” I wanted to be polite but my skepticism radar with clicking at an alarming rate.

Ethan moved away from me and leaned against the counter, a gentle smile playing at his lips, as he put on a look of innocence.

“Fiona is a professor of Psychology at the community college nearby,” he offered. Then he directed his attention to Quell. “That was what you studied as well, am I correct?”

My eyes narrowed and honed in on Ethan.
How does he know that?
I had just learned that information about Quell less than a month ago.

Quell nodded. “Yes, that was what I studied, and when I returned I continued on to get my Masters,” he said softly, brushing over the time between studying psychology and eventually getting his advanced degree. The time in which he was convinced that he’d lost himself.

I often wondered how horrid were his acts that he could live among the vampires, whose acts at times were atrocious, and still feel justified in his beliefs about himself.

Fiona didn’t get the hint that he was vague for a reason. “Returned? From Germany? Ethan told me that you were involved. What branch of the military?”

Ethan ignored my glare and focused on them.

I mumbled, “I guess we’re telling everyone about us now.”

He didn’t respond; instead he watched them and how Quell responded.

He took a while to answer, and Fiona focused on him intently.

“Army. Ground,” he forced out, the corded muscles of his neck, bulging as he pushed the words through clenched teeth. With a vacuous stare, he drifted off somewhere.

When Fiona looked in my direction, her smile disappeared as she sat up a little taller, scooting back a little farther in the chair as though she was trying to gain more distance between us. I tried to relax my face, widen my eyes, and straighten the curl in my snarl. And although I hadn’t said it, she’d gotten the message loud and clear:
Stop it!

Her gentle reassuring smile reemerged. “Freud, what do you think: genius or unjustly revered idiot? There have only been a couple of times I wished I were a man and they all were during a road trip when I couldn’t find a restroom. Other than that, I’m pretty happy with what I have.”

A melodious deep sound filled the room. It was a laugh—a real one. Not the ones Quell gave to mollify me when I made a joke he didn’t quite understand. He eased into her touch as her hand gently caressed his.

Ethan’s plastic grin evolved into something real, too: satisfaction. They quickly delved into deep conversation and lively debate over the theories of Freud, Bandura, Erickson, and other notable psychologists.

‘His Smugness’ seemed quite pleased with himself when they started to discuss the Milgram experiment. He took my arm and guided me out the door. “Sky and I are going to leave. And Quell, Fiona’s the coach for the debate team, good luck,” he said, before looking over his shoulder at her. I didn’t know what it meant but I halted at the door and it took a little effort to ease me out.

The moment we were out, I was about to say something when he pressed his fingers to his mouth. “Save it. We don’t need an audience.” I was so angry that I’m sure I wouldn’t have been able to speak low enough to keep Fiona from hearing, let alone Quell.

I yanked my arm away and walked quickly to my car with purpose, Ethan on my heels.

He sighed, deep and heavy, as he rolled his eyes and leaned against his car. “Okay, go ahead with it. This should be entertaining.”

Too many thoughts, insults, and quips flooded my mind and I needed to organize them. His pomposity just made things worse.
Why the freaking smirk?