Under the Moon (35 page)

“All right,” Quinn conceded. “When did you last see or hear from Anson?”

“The day I empowered him.”

“Great. That’s very helpful.” Needing to move, Quinn stood and grabbed at the trash littering the table. Nick stopped her.

“I’ll get this. Sam has to talk to you outside.” He motioned to the back door onto a wood deck that overlooked the gardens and pathways. Sam nodded. He sat with his arms folded and his cheek pulsed. Something was wrong. Something more. Quinn left the trash, her hands stiff and cold. They headed outside, apprehension digging in where everything else had left toeholds. How much more could she face?

The day was overcast but still bright enough to make them squint. She would have leaned on the wall of the deck, under the shelter of the roof, but Sam continued down the steps and away from the building. Quinn followed a few paces behind.

“What’s wrong?”

Sam shoved his hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders. “All of this might be my fault.”

“No way.” Quinn shook her head. “You didn’t even know Marley existed. How could you have caused her to do this?”

“Not that part.” Sam’s sigh was anvil heavy. “I think I know who Anson is.”

“Okay.” That should be a good thing, but the burn in Quinn’s gut said it wasn’t.

Sam stopped walking and leaned against the trunk of a tree. “I knew him as Tony. Short for Anton. Different last name. He was my freshman-year roommate in college.”

“That was a long time ago, and that’s all circumstantial. Coincidence.”

He shook his head. “We kept in touch sporadically, but when I graduated and came to work for you, I lost track of him. He e-mailed me a couple of years ago. Around Christmas, I think.” Sam blinked fast. “We did the catch-up thing. I told him all about you and my job and stuff.” He glanced at her, then away. “I told him a lot.”

“About the full extent of our relationship.”

“Yeah.”

“And you think he took that and decided to emulate you?”

“Maybe.”

Quinn looked out across the grounds. “There’s a lot about this that’s uncomfortably parallel to us.”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged. “I could have done it. Made you a leech. It’s easy to rationalize the way Marley did. Lies meant to hold us down, that kind of thing. If things had been…just a little different. I might have done it.”

Sam shook his head. “Never.”

He sounded so certain, Quinn smiled. “Why not? Because you wouldn’t have wanted it?”

“No. I wanted it. You know the only reason I’m your assistant is because I couldn’t be a goddess. God. Whatever.” He made a face. “The consequences are too severe, and I’d have never risked becoming a leech. But you’re way too conscientious to have tried it, anyway. You wouldn’t go against the natural order.”

He was right, and they were getting way off track. “We should confirm this. Do you have a photo or anything you can show Marley? Or does she have a picture? She’s got to have a picture.” Eager to find a target, some direction, she started back toward the house, but Sam caught her arm.

“I’m sorry, Quinn.”

He was so not taking responsibility for this. “Sam, this guy used you. He knew about your mother, right?”

Sam nodded shortly.

“What was his major?”

“Mystic studies.”

“See? He was heading this way long before he contacted you. I’ll bet you anything he only did so he could set his path. Domination was always his goal, and he used you the same way he used Marley.”

“If this guy harms you, it will be because of me.”

She laughed, not feeling at all humorous. “Sam, if he succeeds in his plans, it will be because of a lot of people, not the least of whom is me. My ego.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know how Marley said everyone was talking about me and my power and how appalling it was that I was running a bar? I reveled in it. I did nothing to stop the talk. In fact, I ran for office to keep it going.”

“I don’t believe that.”

Quinn hung her head for a moment. “Sam, your belief in me is so blind. I’m not the paragon you make me out to be.”

“Maybe not, but that only means you’re human. I have no illusions about your flaws, believe me.”

Now feeling a true spark of amusement, Quinn smiled at him. “Wanna list them?”

He ticked them off on his fingers. “You’re ageist. You’re bossy. You think your way is the best way and to hell with the rest of us if we don’t agree. And you constantly overlook the best things in your life because you think you don’t deserve them.”

He’d managed to crush the spark. “I don’t overlook anything, and it’s not about what I deserve. It’s about what you deserve.”

“Yeah, that’s the ‘your way is the best way’ part.” He thudded his head back against the tree. “Forget it. That’s an old argument, and we’re done with it.” He pushed away from the tree. “Let’s see if Marley has a picture. I’ll go back and pull all the info I can find on Tony, and we’ll see if we can use any of it against him.” He walked away, his long legs taking him far beyond the point where Quinn could catch up to him.

…

Quinn walked slowly up to the house, thinking. By the time she got there, Marley had found a picture and Sam confirmed that Anson was Anton. The picture resembled the sketch from Chloe’s description, too. Quinn wondered why the Society hadn’t sent the photo around instead of the sketch, but Nick figured it was to keep Anson from knowing how close they were to catching him.

Nothing anyone said convinced Sam he hadn’t played a significant role in Anson’s plans. He spent the rest of the afternoon moping over his computer while they discussed, argued, and planned.

By nine that night, Quinn was jumping out of her skin. The moon had been up for six hours and would be at peak full in the morning, right after setting. Since healing Nick’s leg and rescuing the Charger, she’d let her ability to draw power build. She wanted to have as much capacity as possible when Anson attacked. None of them had any doubt he would.

Because her connection to the moon was so strong now, almost an open conduit throbbing with energy, her body’s need to recharge had subsided. Quinn remained aware of Nick no matter what was going on, but not any more strongly than usual. Still, she kept several feet between them whenever possible.

Marley gave them all bedrooms upstairs so they could stay close and rotate watch through the night. Not that a watch was necessary, when no one seemed ready to go to bed. They lingered in the upstairs common room, the guys and Fran playing poker halfheartedly while Quinn and Marley curled up on the couch and talked.

In an attempt to maintain her sanity, Quinn decided to pretend none of this had happened. She had a million questions for her sister and couldn’t think of a better distraction. For a couple of hours, they found common ground and got to know each other a bit. At two minutes past eleven, a little more settled and knowing she’d be better off tomorrow with rest, Quinn yawned and rose off the sofa.

“I’m going to bed.”

Marley sighed but also stood. “I guess I will, too. Buffet breakfast will be out by seven, guys, but don’t—”

A thud on the roof above them cut her off. Everyone froze, all looking upward, as if they could see anything through the ceiling. Nick, by the windows overlooking the back of the house, sidestepped behind the curtain and tried to peer out into the yard.

“Marley, kill the lights.”

The room went dark. Quinn listened hard but couldn’t hear any more movement.

“Are there any trees over the house?” Sam asked. “Maybe a branch fell?”

“No.” Marley had remained by the light switch near the stairs. Fran hurried over and tugged her back toward the center of the room. Everyone stood still, silent. Nothing happened. The tension in the room grew until Quinn imagined them all snapping in half like dry twigs.

Unable to stand it anymore, she opened herself up a little and used a bit of power to sense the presence on the roof, a human energy signature.

“It’s one man,” she told them, her voice low. “Down in the yard is too far for me to sense, but there’s one man right above us.”

“Anson,” Marley guessed.

“No, a regular person. But there’s…” She closed her eyes and pressed, trying to decipher the other energy she sensed. Not living energy, not just electricity, it was—
Holy shit.
“He’s got explosives.”

“Downstairs!” Nick barked.

Bobby and Tim dashed to the stairs, guns out. Fran dragged Marley away and Sam followed, but Quinn hung back, concentrating on putting up a shield behind them. If the guy above them blew up the roof before they were all downstairs, maybe she could keep the others from getting hurt.

The shield was only half formed when Nick snagged her arm and yanked her through the doorway. He pushed her ahead of him, but now he was closest to the danger and she didn’t have time to shield him. She jumped to the landing and waited for him to reach her before starting down the last of the steps.

Ka-BOOM!

Quinn’s ears rang with the blast, and she stumbled as the building shook. Dear god. This was much more than they’d expected. They couldn’t fight this.

Nick caught her arm again and dragged her down into the central hall. “What else can you sense?” he growled, maintaining a constant visual sweep of the perimeter. Door, window, parlor, lobby, hall. All remained blank, empty.

Quinn closed her eyes and sensed around the building. It took more power to cast that wide, and she could only reach a short distance across the yard. “Four people right outside, plus two more with power.” Her eyelids flew open and she met Marley’s stunned look. “Either two goddesses,” she said, “or Anson and one goddess.”

“I can’t believe someone would work with him,” Marley protested.

“We don’t have time to debate that,” Quinn said. “They’re coming. All sides.”

Without a word the group gathered in a tight circle, facing out. Fran and the men all held guns. Crystals dangled from leather thongs at Marley’s waist and adorned her hands and wrists as jewelry. Quinn tightened her awareness of the moon. They waited, the tension now so high it hummed.

A window broke somewhere out of Quinn’s vision. A flinch went around the circle, but they held their positions. Two beats of silence later there was a tinkle of glass, then the roar of Tim’s shotgun, a cry, and silence again.

“Got one,” Tim said from the other side of the huddle, his tone implacable.

Movement in the hall to the kitchen. Black against blacker. Quinn tapped Nick’s upper arm and felt him nod. He raised his gun. The shadow ducked. Nick held his fire, but he was closest to that hall, and he was vulnerable. Quinn reached out, connected with the shadow’s energy, and dragged him out of the hall toward her. Before Nick could move, she thrust her foot behind the man’s ankles, hit him in the chest with the heel of her hand, and slammed him to his back. She yanked off his black ski mask.

“It’s not him.” Rage poured into the hollow of her calm. She wanted the leech, dammit, not hired guns. The man tried to sweep her legs. She put a shield in the way, and his lower leg slammed into it and bounced off. He howled and grabbed his shin. Nick caught his wrist, flipped him over, and zip-tied his hands and feet.

But the man mumbled something, and Quinn saw that he was miked. She ripped it off his ear too late. More glass shattered and wind whipped through the room, whirling around them and knocking some of them off-balance. It wasn’t a natural wind, clearly generated by one of the goddesses or the leech. Anson.

“What the fuck?” Nick yelled. The wind pushed him back, away from her, and he fought against it in vain. Quinn’s hair lashed her face, blinding her. She fumbled in her pocket for a hair tie and tried to secure it. She had to see, but the effort occupied her hands. Another dark shape appeared out of the maelstrom, a gun aimed at Sam, and she panicked, her fingers tangling in her hair. She yelled and slammed her body into the man, using telekinesis to shove the gun sideways. He managed to fire, the round plowing into the wall behind the registration desk. Sam was on him almost before she’d regained her balance, wrenching the gun from the guy and ejecting the clip.

“You okay?” Sam called at her as the wind separated them, too. He reached out a hand and she tried to grab it but missed.