Read The Cathedral of Cliffdale Online
Authors: Melissa Delport
Drake knocked lazily on the heavy wooden door, leaning against the cold stone while he waited.
The door was opened by a sallow-skinned, shaven-haired vampire looking mildly curious, before he clapped eyes on Drake and all curiosity vanished, replaced by alarm. Drake wedged his foot into the door as the broader man tried to slam it closed.
“Hello Nicholai,” he drawled, shoving the door open so hard that it ricocheted off the wall behind it.
“Drake,” Nicholai stammered, his eyes wild. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see Lenora,” Drake explained politely, “if that’s all right with you, of course?”
“And what if it’s not?” A high voice called from the top of the stairs and Drake grinned up at his former mistress. “Don’t even think about answering that question,” Lenora snapped at Nicholai as she swept down the stairs. “Just because I tolerate you in the bedroom doesn’t mean your opinion matters.” She winked discreetly at Drake as Nicholai averted his eyes, trying to keep his temper in check. Despite the cool weather, Lenora was dressed, as always, in the smallest slip of a dress, with a modest neckline, but exposing a long, bare expanse of thigh.
Drake had had a brief fling with Lenora many years ago, before Charlotte, and then again briefly after. Lenora had gotten him through the worst of Charlotte’s defection, her natural good spirits keeping him sane and preventing him from giving in to the depression that had threatened to overwhelm him. If it weren’t for Lenora, Drake doubted he would have ever been able to get over his guilt at having turned Charlotte.
“Lenora,” he said now, greeting her fondly, opening his arms as she sashayed into his embrace.
“Drake,” her husky voice murmured seductively in his ear. “It has been far too long.” She planted a kiss full on his mouth, her tongue flitting across his bottom lip before she nipped it playfully. Drake smiled into her mischievous green eyes, a few shades darker than his own.
Ignoring Nicholai, Lenora linked her arm through Drake’s and walked him down the porch steps.
“I have something to show you,” she said, as they reached the massive garage which housed Lenora’s many expensive cars. Drake suspected what was coming but he waited for the doors to open completely before passing comment.
“You didn’t!” he laughed as he caught sight of her latest acquisition – a glossy red Lamborghini which held pride of place in the centre of the immaculate, tiled garage.
“I couldn’t resist,” she replied airily, “it’s so pretty.”
“Only you would call
that
pretty,” he groaned, moving closer to admiring the supercar. “This probably cost more than your house. Why do you need so many cars? You can’t even drive.”
“I can drive,” she pouted, “I just prefer other people to do it for me.”
“You are such a snob.”
“So, to what do I owe the honour of this visit?’ Lenora changed the subject.
“Can’t I simply visit an old friend?”
“If that were true, I’d be delighted,” she remarked drily, “but we both know you want something.” Drake made a dramatically pained face, but he didn’t get to the reason he was there and she rolled her eyes.
“How is Genevieve?” she asked politely. He would get to his point when he was good and ready, and not a moment sooner.
“I am not sure – she’s been away.”
“Good riddance,” Lenora stated baldly. “Although how she can risk leaving you unattended is beyond me.”
Drake chuckled. Lenora had never liked Genevieve, not since the moment she had laid eyes on her – and the feeling was mutual. The two women detested each other.
“I see that Nicholai is still in your favour,” he mused.
“For now,” she sighed. “At least until something better comes along. You wouldn’t like to stay, would you?” she arched her perfectly shaped brows suggestively.
“No,” he declined respectfully. “I am afraid not; although the offer is tempting.”
“Well, in that case, I guess he will have to do. So, to what do I owe the honour?’ she repeated. “You didn’t come all the way down here just to turn me down. Again.”
“I didn’t,” he admitted. “I’m looking for information.”
“So of course you came to me,” she shook her head haughtily. Drake noticed that her brown hair was the exact same colour as Quinn’s, a rich, earthy brown.
“Do you know anything about the death of a Guardian a couple of years back?” Drake asked.
Lenora frowned.
“Drake,” she cautioned, her husky voice dropping even lower. “This sounds like Quest business.” Lenora was the only other vampire Drake knew who detested the Quest. She preferred to indulge in life’s simple pleasures, although with her power and influence, she would have made a great asset to the search. Lenora had been around a very, very long time and even Drake, who knew her better than most, did not know why she was so against it.
“It’s not; not really,” he replied. “I’m trying to help a friend.”
“A friend?” she tapped a perfectly manicured fingernail against her bare thigh. “And what does your friend want to know?”
“Who killed her sister.”
Lenora’s composure slipped for just an instant as comprehension dawned on her.
“Are you insane? You can’t be friends with a Guardian, Drake... she’ll kill you.”
“She won’t.”
“She’s a Guardian, for God's sakes!”
“Lenora,” he lowered his own voice menacingly. “You’re going to have to trust me on this one. We’ve been friends a long time.”
“We won’t be friends much longer if you don’t end this.”
“You want me to kill her?”
“I can see by your face that’s not going to happen; but you need to stay as far away from her as you can.”
“Your concern is noted,” he drawled, making it clear that the topic was closed. “Now... do you have the information I’m looking for?”
Lenora curled her lip. Drake was the only man on the planet who dared speak to her like that – he had never been afraid of her – it was one of the reasons she was so fond of him. Of all the lovers she had taken over the years, Drake had always stood out as the one she respected the most. When he had left her, she had never asked him to stay, although she would have preferred it. He had grieved deeply over Charlotte and Lenora had done what she could to ease his heartache, but he had not been ready to settle down. Lenora doubted he ever would be. His long relationship with Genevieve had surprised her, even sparked a flare of envy that she hadn’t felt in years, but she believed it was a relationship borne of convenience rather than real emotion.
“You never did listen,” she scolded, shaking her head, “but to answer your question, no... I never heard anything about a Guardian’s death around that time. Although there was one a few weeks ago - a male. As far as I know the vamps that killed him didn’t live to tell the tale.”
“And yet you know about it,” Drake remarked wryly.
“I know everything,” Lenora grinned, showing her fangs. “Isn’t that why you’re here?”
There was not much more she could tell him, but Lenora promised to let him know if she heard anything. Outwardly, she agreed half-heartedly to see what she could find out, but inside she knew she would move heaven and earth to help him. As she watched him walk away, she remembered the first time she had ever laid eyes on him. She had known Lucian for years, and he had asked her to look out for Drake if ever something were to happen to him. Lenora had taken one look at Drake and announced that she would do so happily. Lucian, who had been like a father to Drake, had not taken kindly to her suggestive comment, but Lenora had not heeded his silent warning. Drake was the most attractive man she had ever laid eyes on, both human and vampire included, and she had enjoyed a brief fling with him behind Lucian’s back. Lucian was blissfully unaware that Lenora and Drake had even met.
Then, Lucian had been killed and Drake had been so angry, so bitter that he had joined the Quest, and, despite Lenora’s best efforts, he would not be swayed from his course. She had lost track of him for a long time; her guilt that she had failed in her promise to her old friend eating her up inside, until the day that Drake arrived on her doorstep, a broken shadow of his former self. He had finally left Charlotte; his guilt that he had turned her into a monster crippling him. Slowly, Lenora had helped him to heal. They had a strong emotional connection and a brief physical attraction, but she had helped him through his darkest time. It eased her conscience somewhat when she finally convinced him to abandon the Quest.
“What did he want?” Nicholai demanded when she re-entered the house.
“That’s none of your business,” Lenora scolded, shutting the door and dropping the slip of a dress to the floor at her feet. Nicholai’s pupils dilated as he watched it slither over her smooth skin. “You are here for my pleasure,” Lenora reminded him, and Nicholai darted forward, eager to please.
Quinn checked in regularly with Tristan during the two weeks that she was gone. Rafe had not left the house and Quinn consoled herself that, even if he wanted to, Tristan would not discover her hidden room while Rafe was there watching him.
The trip to the cottage proved futile – the crystal was not there, although Quinn searched everywhere – in every nook and cranny, missing nothing. The cottage was empty, as was the main house and Quinn was sad to learn from a neighbour that the elderly couple had passed away last spring. With no known relatives, the house had been vacant ever since.
The dusty cottage dredged up painful memories of the year that she and Avery had spent there. It had been one of the happiest times of Quinn’s life, but to remember it grieved her. After two full days of searching had unearthed nothing but cobwebs and disappointment, Quinn conceded defeat and headed back towards Brookfield, making a few stops on the way, as she searched any location she could think of that was remotely tied to Avery.
Arriving home after ten in the evening she was surprised to find a light still on, shining through the downstairs window. Opening the front door she tiptoed through the hall and, rounding the corner, she spotted Tristan on the sofa, staring unseeingly at the TV.
“Hey,” he whispered, switching the TV off. “You’re back.”
“I am,” she shrugged out of her coat and threw it over the back of the sofa, before collapsing beside him.
“How’d it go?” Tristan asked.
“No joy,” she admitted, feeling exhausted. She had accomplished nothing and the clock was ticking. She had just over a week before her month was up. “There are still a few places I want to check, but I had to come back.”
“Why?”
“Rafe,” she answered, without thinking. She didn’t notice his face fall. “The next full moon is just over a week away. We need a plan.”
“What do you suggest we do?”
“We can’t keep him here – it’s too risky with Sarah right next door. I think we should take him out of town – somewhere remote. We can spend the night in the woods.”
“A camp-out. Sounds like fun,” he tried to make light of it but Quinn didn’t respond. “You okay?” he prompted after a long moment of silence.
“I’ll be fine,” she sighed. “I’m just tired.” Heaving herself off the sofa, she made her way to the stairs. “Goodnight, Tristan.”
Quinn took one look at Rafe the following morning as he shuffled down the stairs and her eyes widened in horror. Rafe looked even worse than before, the stubble of his beard flecked with grey. Rounding on him, her concern only fuelled her anger.
“Enough!” she thundered, so loudly that Tristan came sprinting down the stairs, a stake appearing in his hands as as if summoned from thin air. Quinn was so wound up she couldn’t appreciate his dexterity.
“What?” Rafe’s eyes darted around, sensing the cause of her aggravation.
“You look like crap,” Quinn stated bluntly. “Have you even had a shower since I’ve been gone?” Tristan visibly relaxed, stowing the stake into the back of his tracksuit pants. Quinn averted her eyes from his bare chest, staring at Rafe expectantly.
“I...” he stopped, his eyes narrowed in thought.
“The fact that you don’t remember is answer enough,” Quinn snapped.
“Why would I bother?” Rafe replied with far more attitude. “It’s hardly as if I have anyone to impress. I can’t even leave this blasted house!” Ignoring the blight against her home, Quinn rubbed her temples. Tristan shook his head at her, warning her to leave well alone, but she couldn’t bear to see Rafe so unhappy. An idea occurred to her, one that she would ordinarily have dismissed, but she knew that if they kept him cooped up much longer, Rafe would snap. He was a wolf, after all, and wolves couldn’t be caged.
Picking up her phone, before she could lose her nerve, she dialled Sarah’s number.
“Hey, you’re back!” Sarah’s permanently sunny disposition shone through in her voice, a stark contrast to the melancholic mood in Quinn’s house.
“I am. And I was wondering if we were still on for Wednesday?”
“Games night? Absolutely!”
“Fabulous. Do you mind if I bring my house guests?”
“They’re still there?” Sarah was surprised. “I haven’t seen anyone since you left.”
“You must have missed them. So, do you mind?”
“Of course not. The more the merrier. I’ll tell Todd to get some more beer.”
“You are a saint,” Quinn offered. “See you then.”
“We’re going out?” Tristan mused when she had hung up. Rafe tried to appear nonchalant, but Quinn could see the glimmer of hope in his eyes. He must be desperate to be looking forward to something as mundane as spending an evening with strangers.
“Yes,” she nodded, meeting Rafe’s gaze. “But you’re going to clean up before you’re allowed anywhere.”
“Okay,” he nodded, relenting.
On Wednesday night, true to his word, Rafe appeared in the living room looking like a different man. He had shaved, probably that morning, so only a dark shadow remained where a barbaric beard had been before. His hair was still wild, clearly not brushed, but at least it was clean, and his clothes were only slightly creased from being inside his suitcase for so long.
“No, we’ll all go,” Quinn replied to Tristan’s proposal that she only take Rafe along to Sarah’s for games night. There was no way she was leaving Tristan alone in her house for a few hours. Tristan was a Guardian, after all, and with Rafe not around he might well discover her hidden room.
“Hey!” Sarah opened the door and smiled at the three of them. She had a brown smudge under her left eye and blonde strands were escaping her ponytail. Quinn noticed the way her forehead creased slightly as her gaze fell upon Rafe. He may look a million times better than he had yesterday, but his eyes were hollow and his hair looked as though it hadn’t been brushed for weeks; which, of course, it hadn’t. Sarah then gave Tristan a very approving once over and Quinn fought the urge to roll her eyes. Tristan had always been too good-looking for his own good.
“This is my friend, Tristan,” Quinn introduced quickly, “and this is Rafe.” Sarah extended her hand politely to both of them before ushering them all back into the house.
“I made dessert,” Sarah called as she led the way to the living-room.
“I can see that,” Quinn smiled, indicating the chocolate mousse smeared across her face.
“Oh! Whoops!” Sarah quickly rubbed at her cheek, laughing infectiously.
Todd eased himself off the sofa, shaking hands with Tristan and Rafe, while Sarah pulled Quinn into the kitchen.
“You could have mentioned your friend was young and marvellous-looking,” she scolded, rounding on Quinn, “I didn’t even brush my hair!” She frowned suddenly, the thought reminding her of Rafe’s dishevelled appearance and opened her mouth to question Quinn about it
“You look fantastic,” Quinn said quickly, heading her off. It was a fact though. Sarah was adorable, no matter what she wore.
“You’re looking pretty glamorous yourself tonight,” Sarah eyed her speculatively. “You’re actually wearing make-up! Is there something you want to tell me?” she waggled her brows suggestively.
“Don’t even go there,” Quinn grinned. “It’s not like that.”
“It should be,” Sarah sighed dreamily.
“Should be what?” Todd’s voice from the doorway made them both jump.
“Nothing,” Sarah blushed scarlet.
“Sure,” Todd grinned, rubbing the back of his head so that his black hair stood up on end. “What are you girls doing in here anyway? We have a game to win!” he grabbed Sarah by the waist and pulled her against him. She emitted a soft “oomph” as she collided with his chest, but giggled as he planted a kiss full on her mouth.
“If you two don’t mind...” Quinn drawled, crossing her arms over her chest and tapping her foot. Todd grinned at her over the top of Sarah’s head.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, taking Sarah’s hand and leading her back to the living-room. “Let the games begin!”