Quinn's Undying Rose (Scanguards Vampires #6) (8 page)

“I still need your help. Blake is in danger. If you don’t protect him, he’ll perish. He’s your flesh and blood, the only one who’s left. Is that—?”

“What kind of danger?” Quinn interrupted, wanting to keep the focus on business rather than delve into the emotional baggage he and Rose shared.

A slight relaxation in her stance confirmed that she had been unsure whether he would respond. However, her face remained as impassive as before. Did she have any feelings left? Or had whatever had happened to her, purged them from her heart? Was
his
Rose still in there somewhere?

“There’s a vampire. His name is Keegan. He’s powerful, and wherever he is, his henchmen aren’t far behind. He wants Blake harmed.”

Quinn narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

She pulled in a breath. “Because he wants to hurt me.”

“What did you do to him?”

“Nothing!”

He crossed the distance that separated them with two steps, bringing him flush to her. The heat from her body was pure torture as was the intensifying scent.

“Bullshit! He must have a reason, so spit it out, Rose. What did you do?” And he wouldn’t take any crap for an answer.

Her eyes shifted to the side. “I left him.”

Her answer came as a surprise. It instantly sent bolts of rage through him. How many men had there been? How many men had touched her after him? Had run their dirty hands over her perfect body? Had been inside her?

Disgust spread in his gut, mingled with the rage that boiled there, and mixed with the hatred that had started building. For seconds he couldn’t speak, his fangs itching so badly, he couldn’t prevent them from descending. He saw the red flicker of his eyes reflect in hers, and realized that he was quickly losing control.

“He’s evil. I didn’t see it at first,” she continued quickly as if wanting to drown out the unbearable silence. “He didn’t want me to leave him. Nobody leaves Keegan. His ego is hurt. He wants to take it out on me by hurting Blake.”

But the more she explained, the clearer one thing became.

He could see it now: the way her eyes drifted away, how her voice trembled almost unnoticeably, how the vein at her neck twitched. Even her scent changed, her glands emitting more of her clean sweat. She was nervous. Not because of Keegan, but because she was dishing him up a lie and was hoping not to be caught in it.

“You’re lying to me.”

“No!” she protested. “I left Keegan.”

“So you did. But that’s not why he wants to hurt Blake.” Quinn paused briefly, pinning her with his eyes. “Not even you are that good in bed.”

The barb hurt him more than it seemed to hurt her.

“Think what you want. The fact is that Keegan is bent on revenge. I need you to help me protect Blake.”

He would get the truth out of her, one way or another. Maybe not tonight, but if anything, he was patient.

“Fine. Stick to your lie. What does he want to do to Blake? Kill him?”

Rose shook her locks, squeezing her eyes shut. “He wants to turn him.” When she opened her eyes again, anguish had settled there. “I can’t allow that.”

Realization spread quickly, making him take a step back.

“You hate being a vampire.”

She glared at him, not masking her feelings. “What’s there not to hate?”

In disbelief, he shook his head. How could she have lived as one of their kind for such a long time and not seen the advantages, the benefits of such a life? How could she still hate it?

“It wasn’t your choice, was it?” She’d been forced into this life.

“It doesn’t matter now. What matters is Blake. Are you going to help me or not?”

The wounded look she tossed him was enough to slice his heart in half. Without thinking he nodded.

“Under one condition: you tell me how you got turned.”

He could see the wheels spin in her head. Was she trying to construct another lie she could serve him up?

“Once Blake is out of danger.”

“Why not now?” Quinn pressed. Why could she not tell him what had happened?

“Because you’re not ready to hear it.”

“Try me.”

She shook her head, her lips turning into a hard line. “When Blake is safe, I’ll tell you what happened.”

He observed how her chest heaved with each breath she took. The knowledge that she was hiding something, something he felt instinctively, concerned him, gnawed at him. But he also knew that she wouldn’t cave. Not yet anyway.

“Fine. Have it your way. But the moment he’s safe, I’ll demand to know.”

She acknowledged his statement with a nod. “Good. Now let’s talk about how we can protect him.”

Quinn raised his hand. “Hold it. We’re not done negotiating.”

Her surprised look could have been droll, had he had any sense of humor. As it was, he was all out of humor, and no supply truck was on its way to deliver more. But what he had in abundance was anger. And he would unleash it on her.

If she thought she could just waltz back into his life without any explanation, without any remorse for the pain she’d caused him, he’d make her pay in his own way.

“Now to the payment for my services.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’ve already told your boss that I’ll be paying Scanguards one million dollars for keeping Blake safe. Isn’t that enough?”

Quinn suppressed his surprise at the large amount. Clearly, Blake meant a lot to her, otherwise why would she shell out that kind of money? However, he wasn’t interested in cash. He had more than enough to see him through eternity.

“The million is for Scanguards, not for me. I prefer something more personal than cold hard cash.”

He roamed his eyes over her lithe form. God, she was gorgeous. He remembered her glistening body as if it had been yesterday. He could still feel her muscles squeezing him, her heels digging into his backside, her hands caressing him. Despite the many women he’d had after her, he’d never forgotten his night with Rose.

But it would be different now. What he was planning wasn’t meant to rekindle those sensations. It was meant to destroy them, so he would finally be free of her.

“What do you want?”

Quinn raised his eyes to meet hers. He noticed the apprehension that had taken over her face.

“You pay with your body. I’ll fuck you whenever it pleases me until the assignment is over.”

She gasped.

Only if he removed the mystique surrounding their one and only night together would he be able to stop thinking about her. When he’d taken her virginity so many years ago, he’d been a relatively inexperienced young man, and making love to Rose had been magical. Today he was well versed in all matters of the carnal arts. He’d slept with the most experienced of women. Sleeping with Rose now wouldn’t elicit the same responses in him as it did two hundred years ago. It would finally rid him of the feeling that he’d lost something very precious.

Yes, he argued with himself, if he fucked her now, it would be no different than being with any woman. She would be nothing special. He had to prove it to himself, make it clear to his body and his heart, that he didn’t need her, that whatever he needed, he could get from any woman.

Rose would finally lose the power she had over him. And he would be free to love somebody else. Free at last.

“You can’t be serious!” she finally shot back.

“Take it or leave it!”

This point was non-negotiable. If she wanted his help, she would pay for it.

“But he’s your flesh and blood. How can you be so callous?”

Quinn expelled a bitter laugh. “Callous? Don’t go there, Rose. This Blake means nothing to me. He may be my flesh and blood, but what does that really mean?” He slammed his fist onto his heart. “I feel nothing here. Do you understand? Nothing!”

And she was the reason for it, but he didn’t bother saying it, because the glint in her eyes told him she already suspected it. She was smart, his Rose. She’d always been bright. Brighter than the other young women that he’d met during the season in London. Her beauty had drawn him to her, her mind had made him stay. While the other women had been airheads, Rose had always stated her opinion, asked intelligent questions, and supported her arguments with logic. He’d loved sparring with her.

“I’m sure you’re not short of women willing to share your bed.”

Was she fishing whether he was seeing anybody? “I can name you a dozen who will jump right now if I make the call,” he said icily. It was the truth, but he wasn’t in the mood for any other woman. He was in the mood for Rose.

Her jaw tightened visibly. “Then what do you want from me?”

He took a deliberate step toward her, bringing his body within an inch of hers. “I wasn’t aware that you were hard of hearing. But let me spell it out for you again: I want to fuck you. That’s my condition for protecting Blake. You have until tomorrow at sunset to give me your decision. Then my offer expires.”

Swiftly, he pulled a card from his pocket and stuck it into the pocket of her jeans.

“Text me.”

He turned away.

“Fuck you!” she hissed.

Quinn grinned. “That’s the spirit, Rose. Now let’s put those words into action.”

9

When Quinn’s cell phone pinged hours after he’d left Rose behind, indicating a text message, his heart pounded excitedly, and he had to take an extra breath of air to steady it. He’d been wandering aimlessly through the city, trying to clear his head.

Pulling the phone from his pocket, he closed his eyes for an instant. He couldn’t let her know how relieved he was that she accepted his ridiculous condition.

His eyes swept over the message.

Oliver is awake
, it said.

For a split-second, he didn’t understand the significance of those three words, but then it hit him. He had responsibilities.

His interactions with Rose had made him forget what else had happened tonight. He was a sire now, Oliver’s sire. And it meant that he had to help him through the transition, guide him, provide counsel. Never mind that he needed counsel himself; he had to pretend now that he knew it all, that he had the solution to every problem his new prodigy would face.

Quinn shoved a hand through his hair. How he wished he could talk to somebody, to ask for advice. But he had nobody he felt comfortable confessing to. In those two hundred years since his transformation he hadn’t made one true friend. Even Zane, his fellow bodyguard at Scanguards, wasn’t close enough to him. Yes, they’d been out, whoring together, but all that was long gone. Zane was bonded to a hybrid now, Portia, a young woman, half vampire, half human. Besides, Quinn couldn’t tell anybody what was going on inside him. All he could do was fake it, not let anybody know what a mess his life had turned into.

Determined to at least get one thing in his life right, he headed for Samson’s house. Oliver needed him now, and he wasn’t going to shirk his responsibilities.

Thomas greeted him at the door. The gay biker with the sandy blond hair and easy smile waved him in. Quinn glimpsed Samson and Amaury in the living room, both pacing with their cell phones pressed to their ears, talking quickly. He gave Thomas a questioning look. Why had they left Oliver alone?

“Zane is upstairs with Oliver.” His friend motioned to the regal mahogany stairs that lead up to the second floor.

As he marched up the stairs, he was surprised that Zane was still at the house. He would have expected him to return to his mate Portia. The two were practically inseparable since they had bonded only a short time earlier.

Zane’s laughter greeted him as he opened the door to the guest room. Quinn furrowed his forehead. The last thing he had expected at a time like this was laughter. What was going on?

When he stepped into the room, he found Zane sitting in a chair next to the bed. Oliver was stretched out on the bed, holding his stomach with both hands.

“Stop!” he begged, his face contorted into a grimace. “That hurts!”

Zane waved him off. “Yeah, that’s what he said too when I poured hot wax over it.”

“What are you doing to him?” Quinn yelled, launching himself at Zane.

His colleague immediately jumped up.

“Who pissed on your grave?” Zane shot back, tossing him a surprised look.

“He’s just . . . ” Oliver’s voice died amid fits of . . . laughter.

Quinn whipped his head to stare at Oliver. Now that he looked more closely, he noticed how his prodigy’s eyes were tearing as he held in another laugh.

“I was just telling him a joke,” Zane explained.

Dumbfounded, Quinn just stood there. He had expected Oliver to be in shock. Most newly turned vampires were, especially those who’d been turned unexpectedly. However, Oliver seemed to be anything but. In fact, he looked positively . . . happy!

Suddenly, Oliver’s face contorted in pain. “Shit. Still hurts.” He motioned to his stomach.

Panicked, Quinn rushed to his side, but Zane’s hand on his shoulder held him back.

“He’s all right. His stomach wound will take a few more hours of healing though. Don’t worry, we brought a live donor in to speed up the process.”

“Who?”

“Wesley. He was closest.”

Quinn blinked in surprise. “Haven’s brother? He volunteered?” Wesley had hated vampires for a long time. But since his own brother had turned into one, it appeared his hatred had somewhat eased.

Zane shrugged. “Kind of.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Oliver cleared his throat, making Quinn look back at him.

“Samson offered him a job at Scanguards.”

Shit! “Wesley is a loose cannon!”

Zane chuckled. “I remember being called that myself not too long ago. And look at me now!” His bald vampire friend stretched his arms out to his sides as if presenting himself to an audience.

“You still are,” Quinn answered in dry tones. “Fuck, I should have been here. Samson shouldn’t have to clean up after me.” Instead of making sure his prodigy had everything he needed, he’d deserted him the first chance he got. What did that say about him? That he wasn’t any better than his own sire?

He ran his hand through his hair, then let his eyes travel over Oliver’s body.

“Are you okay? How are you feeling?”