Under the Moon (39 page)

“What’s the plan?” he asked.

“We need showers and food and then we have to find a safe location to face him,” Quinn said. “The moon’s up and he’ll be coming soon. I want to be prepared, and I want control. We won’t get that unless we draw him to us, on our terms.”

“I know a hotel,” Sam said. “From the research I did before you guys came out here before.”

“Okay, we’ll follow you.”

They split up, Sam and Marley turning around to go back to Chloe’s Prius that Quinn spotted a couple of blocks up the street. Her throat swelled a little. It was so like Sam to think of that, rather than leaving her car all the way up in Maine. Now it would be easier to get it back to her when this was all over.

“How are you feeling?” Nick settled his hand on her waist, his arm a solid support against her back as they crossed the street to the Charger.

Quinn shivered, remembering the night before, drawing in a slow breath full of his leathery scent. “I’m good. Except for road fatigue, I feel the best I’ve felt in months.” They walked in silence, and she tried not to think about what would be next for them. After this was all over, she had no doubt it would go back to the way it was before. Or worse. She didn’t know what the Protectorate would do if they found out they’d slept together. John might have someone else assigned to her and keep Nick away.

A few minutes later, they pulled to the valet behind the Prius. Quinn smiled at the hotel staffer who took their disreputable duffels, mild distaste curling his mouth until she handed him a hefty tip.

“Quinn.”

Marley’s soft entreaty stopped Quinn inside the doors to the marbled lobby. Nick shot her an inscrutable look, then a commanding one at Sam before heading to the check-in desk. Sam took up a stance a few feet away, facing the doors.

“I’m sorry,” Marley said.

Quinn sighed. “I know you are.”

Marley shook her head. “I know you don’t understand. Why I did this. How someone could fool me so easily.” She stared out the etched glass doors, blinking fast. “Not all of us are as confident as you are. Or lucky enough to have two guys who love you and would do anything for you.” Bitterness colored her tone now, jealousy that might have been a driving force in her bad decisions. Not necessarily jealousy of Quinn, but of anyone who had what she didn’t.

But she was right. Quinn
didn’t
understand. “You have Tim and Bobby and Fran and a whole compound full of people.”

“Pfft. They don’t care about me. You know how many people come to my place because they hear I can help them get back on their feet, and then leave and never contact me again? No one stays. Fran, yes, but…” Her eyes filled with tears and she shook her head again. “Sam would do anything for you. That’s clear after talking to him for five minutes.”

Quinn watched Sam’s shoulders tighten and knew he was listening.

“I thought I had that with Anson,” Marley lamented. “I just wanted—”

“You wanted to keep him,” Quinn interrupted. “You got desperate and let him talk you into something you knew was wrong. We all do that.” Her circumstances had been different, but how could she condemn Marley when Quinn had held on to Sam just as tightly? “But we can’t control other people’s feelings.”

Marley nodded and walked to the counter where Nick still stood.

“You let me go.”

Quinn turned to Sam, who watched her sadly. “What?”

“You’re not like her. You let me go.”

It was Quinn’s turn to blink back stinging tears as Sam, too, walked away. She had a new empathy for her sister. Of course people would do anything to avoid being alone. The crushing loneliness her relationship with Sam had held at bay threatened to descend on her, and now was the worst possible time to let it. She had to be strong. There was work to do.

Chapter Fifteen

The goddess visited the dungeon after her love had been sealed away, where he could steal no more power from other, innocent goddesses. “If you leave me here, I’ll die,” he pleaded with her through the iron bars in his door. “I can no longer survive without access to the energy of life.” Tears dripped down the goddess’s face, for she knew the truth of his words, and it was her fault. She knew it was wrong, but there was no way to fix all the damage she had done, and she deserved no mercy. She laid her fingers on his. “Take mine.”

—“The Goddess and the Leech,” from
Tales of the Descendants of Asgard

…

Nick had obtained a two-bedroom suite, by far the nicest accom-modations they’d shared this month. Quinn’s shoes sank into the plush ivory carpeting when they entered. The center room held dark, fancy antique tables flanking a beautiful but hard-looking love seat and two chairs in earth tones. Doors on either side of the room led to bedrooms with double beds visible. Nick went to the bay window to check the latch and peer out. “Fire escape here. No bedroom access, though.”

“Duly noted.” Quinn went to the French-style phone to order room service.

Sam had his laptop open already and scribbled down the research Quinn wanted him to do. Once that was all done, she grabbed her bag and headed to a bathroom to shower. The bedroom was small, with only a few inches between the gold-comforter-covered double beds, a walnut armoire against one wall instead of a closet. The marble bathroom was tiny, too, but luxurious, with a plush rug and thick white towels. The hotel’s gold logo filled the center of the white shower curtain—a real curtain, not an industrial-strength, mildew-resistant plastic liner like in most hotel bathrooms.

She lingered under the water, letting the soft spray wash away tears she couldn’t attach to anything in particular. Fatigue, fear, the burden Barbara had placed on her, which was no more than she’d taken on herself but which weighed more heavily now, regardless. She pretended none of the tears were related to the loneliness Marley had reminded her of and that she could now feel looming at the other side of this.

When she came out of the steamy bathroom, Sam sat on the end of her bed. He looked fine, with no residual effects from his injuries, but guilt twisted her heart anyway. He’d endured so much for her.
From
her. She couldn’t look at him as she reached for the plush robe on the bed.

“Is the food here yet?” She turned her back to pull the robe over her towel, then let the towel fall to the floor.

“No.”

After belting the robe, she drew the other towel off her head and squeezed it around her hair. “I’m so sorry I let you get hurt.”

He rolled his eyes. “That wasn’t your fault.” He shifted away when Quinn sat on the bed next to him. It was a small movement that likely meant nothing, but it felt much bigger. His demeanor had changed. Somehow, in the short time they were separated, he’d made a decision.

Afraid of the inevitable, she started talking. “Anson’s completely on our shoulders now. Even if I was his big goal all along, what he did here while we were in Maine shows he’s not likely to be satisfied with leeching me. If he gets that much power, he could be unstoppable.” The magnitude of it hit her anew. Failure just wasn’t possible now.

Sam put his arm around her shoulders. “We can do this. We won’t let him get to anyone else.”

He’d barely finished the sentence when Quinn heard the hall door opening. “That can’t be room service. I didn’t hear a knock.” She pushed to her feet and reached for the bedroom door. She’d almost reached it when it blew inward, knocking her off her feet. A white flash blinded her, mixing with stars from smacking her head on the floor.

“Quinn!” Sam bent, his hand going behind her head, but she shoved him away and launched herself up and into the main room. She instinctively knew what that flash was. What it had to be. She threw up her hands against another flash of light, glimpsing her sister in a heap on the floor, a dark figure looming over her with a hand on her chest.

She didn’t have time to think. She opened herself wide to the moon and shoved at the figure, trying to get him off Marley. The photonegative effect of the light faded, but a hum rose around them. Glasses on the bar and vases on tables rattled, as did the door of the other bedroom. Nick shouted her name and banged on the door, trapped inside.

“Noooo
ooooOOOOO!
” She pushed harder, desperate to free her sister. The figure—it had to be Anson—didn’t budge, despite Quinn’s efforts. Sam shouted behind her, and Anson lifted his head. There was a loud thud, and Quinn whipped around to see Sam sliding down the wall, unconscious. Fury took over. She scanned the room for weapons and used telekinesis to fling a heavy vase, books, and decorative bowls through the air at the leech. Marley shuddered and jerked under his hand, while he had taken on a faint amethyst glow. Everything Quinn threw bounced harmlessly to the carpet. He was powerful enough to deflect the missiles even while leeching her sister. She tried to render him unconscious like she had his people at the inn, but nothing happened.

Pressure built into a bloodcurdling scream of rage. She ran across the room, her hands in front of her, sending energy in waves, trying to knock him off or interrupt his pull of Marley’s power. In slow motion Anson raised his free hand. Quinn slammed full-speed into an invisible wall and fell to the floor again. Her vision erupted in cracked lines of pain and her nose gushed warm blood.

She touched her face to heal the injury. Haphazardly, but well enough for the pain to fade and her vision to clear. But it was too late. Anson now loomed over Quinn.

She couldn’t defend herself, couldn’t affect him. Fear flooded her, but she wasn’t helpless. Or alone. She unlocked Nick’s door with a thought. It flew open so hard it cracked the drywall behind it. Nick charged out, his pistol leading, and fired three times. The first bullet soared off course. The second stopped before it got to Anson. But the third hit him in the hand. He yelped and stared at it, going white with shock. Then, fury contorting his face, he stretched a hand toward Nick. Nick’s gun flew out of his hand and crashed through the window.

Nick didn’t hesitate. He pulled another weapon from his rear waistband and kept firing, hitting Anson twice before the leech threw a chair at Nick, knocking him to the floor.

Quinn lashed out with her feet as Anson stepped closer to her, still distracted by her protector. She slammed her heel into his knee, then scissored her legs around his. He landed on his back hard enough to shake the floor but was on his feet as quickly as she was.

Sirens outside stopped everything. Quinn recovered first and lunged, but she managed only to catch Anson’s long coat, which he slipped out of and ran through the doorway. By the time she reached the hall, he’d disappeared.

She hesitated, not wanting to let him go, but also afraid to leave the others here alone to face the police and the management. She wasn’t ready for another fight, not when he was so damned strong. Plus, racing through the streets of Boston in a bathrobe, trying to engage an enemy she was not at all sure she could conquer…well, that would be stupid.

She cursed and went back inside. Marley and Sam lay on the floor, both unconscious. Nick stumbled across the room, bleeding from a gash on his temple and another on his upper arm, right below the sleeve of his T-shirt. But Quinn looked at the coat in her hand and smiled.

Anson didn’t know it, but he’d just handed her victory.

…

The rush didn’t last long. Keeping Anson’s coat over her arm, Quinn closed the door and fastened the chain and privacy lock. Nick reached her and propped himself against the wall, leaning to peer through the peephole.

“He’s gone?”

“Yeah. You okay?” She touched the gash on his head, wincing at the rawness. The injuries were getting worse every time—but no more.

“
Sonofabitch.
” He jerked away. “I’m fine. Get your sister.” He wove his way back into the sitting room and over to Sam, still crumpled in a heap on the floor. Quinn saw he was covered in glass from a shattered picture frame. She told herself he’d be okay, that they’d all be okay, but even with the advantage Anson had unknowingly given her, victory wasn’t at hand yet. It wouldn’t be if she didn’t have her team intact.

Later. Deal with this now, that later.

“Don’t move him,” she told Nick. “I’ll be right there.” She knelt next to Marley, who was as still and pale as a wax figure. Quinn skimmed her hands over her sister, checking for injury, but there wasn’t one.

There was, however, a definite lack of power.