Under the Moon (13 page)

Quinn let out a long breath. “It sounds mundane to me.”

He compressed his mouth and shook his head. “There was a flash, or a splash, or—something that moved in that patch. After that it happened too fast—except the roll went so slowly. I don’t know. My perception was off. How could someone have done it on purpose?”

Oh, she knew how. “With a great view of the road and enough time to see you coming and prepare? A goddess could do it.” She swallowed her anger. “The hill next to where you crashed was high enough. But I’d think the rain would erase any visual advantage.”

“And the timing had to be perfect. My tire had to hit that spot at the exact moment they did…whatever they did.” He waved his hands. “And assuming they’d go to that much trouble and be that good or that lucky for it to work—”

“Why didn’t they follow through?” she finished.

The door opened and a technician wheeled in a gurney. “Time to go for a ride! Swing over here.” He lowered the gurney and helped Sam transition from the exam table to the wheeled bed. The look on Sam’s face told Quinn how much he hated this.

The tech smiled at Quinn. “I’ll have him back in a jiffy.”

It wasn’t exactly a jiffy, but eventually they returned, and the physician’s assistant came in and told them Sam’s scan was okay. He offered a few sheets of information with treatment instructions and symptoms to watch for, as well as a prescription for painkillers, which Sam crumpled up as soon as the PA left.

“I’m muzzy enough without adding these. I’ll be okay.”

His face wasn’t exactly etched in pain, but tightness around his mouth and eyes still telegraphed it. Quinn retrieved the script and put it in her pocket. “You might change your mind,” she said in response to his glower. “Don’t do that. You’ll make it worse.”

They met Nick in the waiting area. Quinn raised an eyebrow at the TV. Nick shook his head.

“I think we’re good.”

“Yeah, we are. My car is totaled,” Sam griped.

“We’ll get it back.” Nick clapped him on the shoulder. “You okay?”

“Fine. Stop being so solicitous.” He shrugged off Nick’s hand.

Nick grinned at Quinn, relief obvious in his eyes. “I would, if I knew what ‘solicitous’ meant. Come on, the rain’s let up. We should make good time now.”

They did, though it was far too late once they reached Quinn’s cabin to stop for provisions. Nick went through a fast food drive-thru instead and offered to go to the store early in the morning.

“Tonight, let’s crash and regroup,” he said as he parked the car in front of the traditional-style cabin, hunkered in a clearing carved out of overgrown woods. “Tomorrow, we’ll figure everything out.”

“Sounds fine to me.” Sam trudged up the steps to the cabin, then stopped and turned. “Maybe someone should search the place, make sure no one’s been here.”

“No one has,” Quinn said. She pointed to the top step, one above Sam’s. “Look at your feet.”

The car’s headlights showed light gray dust coating his boots, and dark footprints marred the steps he’d climbed. The top step was unmarked.

“They could have gotten in another way, and how did you keep that from washing off?” Nick asked.

“Trade secret,” Quinn replied. “I’ll do a perimeter check, but I’m sure no one’s been here. I’d feel it.” As much as the bar was home, this cabin was her heart. It had been in her mother’s family for generations, and the two of them had come up here for what her mother called their goddess weekends. They talked about things every mother and daughter needed to discuss, but here was also where Quinn learned how to be a goddess, even long before she came into her power. It was also the last place she’d been with her mother after her father died, before her mother caught the infection that killed her.

She only needed normal instinct to know it was fine, but Nick didn’t operate that way. So she walked around the building with him on her heels, his flashlight flicking at the ground, then the windows, then back to the woods surrounding them. The rear porch, which overlooked the Paw Paw River, held the same layer of untouched gray dust, as did all the windowsills. No one could have gotten to the back doors or windows without evidence. Even goddesses couldn’t fly.

“Could they booby-trap it?” Nick asked. “You know, do the kind of stuff they did in the hotel?”

“I don’t know, Nick,” Quinn said wearily. “All I can tell you is that I don’t sense any use of power.”

“Would you? Without having power yourself?”

“Yes. Like you’d sense a presence in the room even if you couldn’t see or hear them.” She was exaggerating her sixth sense, but they could stand here all night playing the what-if game. They were exhausted and hurt and needed rest.

“All right.” Nick led her to the front and unlocked the door, letting the other two go in while he unloaded the car.

The cabin was small and square, with a central living/dining/kitchen area and two bedrooms, one on either side, with one bathroom next to the smaller bedroom. It had plank walls and large windows framed in plaid curtains that matched the rugged, squishy sofa and side chairs. Shelves held hundreds of books, old videocassettes and DVDs for the small TV/video combo unit, and bins full of old board and card games from Quinn’s childhood. It smelled slightly stale from being closed up and a bit musty from the rain, with a hint of gardenia that Quinn knew had to be her imagination after all this time.

“You can have the first shower,” she told Sam. She was desperate for one, so Sam had to be twice as much. She got a stack of big, fluffy towels out of the linen closet and handed them to him. “There should be shampoo and soap and everything in the shower stall.”

“Thanks, Quinn.” He disappeared into the little room, and she gathered sheets to make the beds. Nick joined her in the main bedroom a few minutes later.

“This is a nice place.” He shook out the top sheet for the double bed, then bent to tuck it in on his side. “How come I’ve never seen it?”

“It was my mother’s.” She tossed him a pillowcase and bunched up another to put on the second pillow. “We used to come up here together. You and Sam are the first men to be here in decades. Since my parents first got married, I guess.”

“I’m honored.” He dropped the cased pillow against the headboard. “Sleeping arrangements? I notice there are only two bedrooms.”

“You and Sam can share.”

Nick stared in horror at the bed. “No way! I’m not—”

“In the other room, Nick.” She laughed. “There are twin beds in there.”

He groaned. “Twins? Come on. My feet will hang off. Geez, half Sam’s body will hang off, and he was just flipped on his head.”

“I’m sorry—that’s all I have. Unless you want to share with Sam in here.” Those weren’t the only alternatives. They could let Sam have this slightly bigger bed, but all of Quinn’s defenses were down, and sharing a room with Nick would be too dangerous. And sharing a room with Sam, after she’d pushed him away, would be cruel.

She smoothed the comforter over the sheets and left the room. Nick followed. “I already did the beds in there. Towels are in the bathroom. You can go after Sam.” Again she felt a pang of longing, but hospitality won out. Not to mention, if she went last, she could stay in as long as she wanted to.

A few minutes later, as she washed dusty dishes in the kitchen area—she had to keep moving or she’d never start again—Sam limped out of the bathroom clad in only a towel he clutched closed in one fist. Bruises had blossomed on his right ribcage and left shoulder, probably from the seat belt. Another showed above the edge of the towel on his right hip.

Quinn must have made a noise because both men turned toward her. Sam looked down at himself and rubbed a hand across his chest.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” His head came back up, and his eyes met hers, glinting with humor and memory.

Nick rolled his eyes and shoved to his feet. “For god’s sake. Get dressed, Sam.” He slammed into the bathroom without looking at Quinn.

Sam’s mouth quirked smugly. She didn’t know how he mustered the energy to give Nick a hard time, but gratitude soothed the shredded areas of her heart. He’d accepted the change in their relationship, and was even trying to make Nick jealous.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” He sank onto the couch. “This wasn’t your fault.”

“If it was deliberate, it was. No one would be after you unless they were after me.” She laughed bitterly. “If it
wasn’t
deliberate, it was still my fault. I was talking to you on the phone. I should never have done that in this kind of weather.”

“You’re not responsible for my bad judgment.” He pressed his thumb against his temple, his face contorting.

“Here.” Quinn set down a freshly dried plate and filled a glass with water. “I think the first-aid kit we bought has some over-the-counter stuff.”

“When did you buy a first-aid kit?” He scanned her, but the sweatshirt she wore hid her cut arm and the injuries on her back.

“In Boston. Lucky we did, huh?” She handed him the glass, then searched the kit on the picnic-style dining table. There was a packet of ibuprofen right on top. She tore it open and tapped the pills into his hand. “They should help without making you muzzy. But you should go to sleep anyway. It’s late.”

He caught her hand. “Thanks. You sleeping with me to wake me every hour, make sure I’m not in a coma?” His smile now was mischievous.

“Not this time, big guy.” She ran her free hand gently over his unruly hair. “Nick will watch over you.”

“That’ll be fun.” He pulled himself to his feet but didn’t release her. “Make sure he doesn’t have an air horn before you go to bed, okay?”

She smiled. “Okay.” She squeezed his hand. “Thanks for everything, Sam.”

After he’d gone into the smaller bedroom and closed the door, she finished cleaning dishes and wiped down all the cabinet shelves. There were a few canned goods in one corner, but nothing that appealed. If Nick was hungry, he could heat something while she was in the bathtub.

She was putting away the last pots and pans when the bathroom door opened. Steam billowed out ahead of Nick, a navy blue towel around his waist and a pale blue towel turban-style around his head. Quinn laughed with a surge of affection. He was competing with Sam—and doing very well, with his powerful arms and shoulders, solid chest, and flat abdomen—but cutting the threat of such a competition by being goofy.

“It’s all yours,” he said, giving her the complicated version of his smile. It resembled the one he flashed at women in the bar, flirtatious and inviting, but it also had an element of the goof wearing the turban. His eyes, though, gave her the undercurrents. He was worried, conflicted, needy. All things he didn’t want her to see, things he tried to mask with the lip part of the smile. “I hope we left you some hot water,” he added.

“It’s a big tank.” She draped the wet dishtowel over the edge of the sink and walked to Sam’s giant duffel, which he’d left between the doors to the two bedrooms. She found her own soft cotton pajamas on top and pulled those out, including a pair of comfortable underwear she didn’t let Nick see. Under the clothes Sam had packed for her—a small quantity but everything she would need up here—were myriad guns and electronics, all set into two layers of foam that filled the bag and were the reason Nick had had trouble getting it out of the car.

Nick peered over her shoulder and whistled. “No wonder he wanted me to get that bag. Looks like the trunk of the Charger.”

“Not quite.” She’d been in that trunk. It rivaled an armory. “But yeah, it wouldn’t have been so good for him to get caught with this stuff. He has permits for all of it, but still. Questions.”

“What does an admin assistant have all that weaponry for?”

Quinn zipped the bag and straightened. “Same reason you do.”

Nick frowned. “What’s been happening that you haven’t told me about?”

She sighed. “Nothing, Nick. Sam plans ahead and considers every possibility. Just like you,” she added.

He nodded, eyeing the bag again. “I didn’t know he took it that seriously.”

“Took what seriously?” Quinn folded her arms and stared at him. Way back when she first started recharging with Sam, Nick had taken her assistant aside for a not-so-furtive conversation. Neither one would ever tell her what they discussed, but it didn’t take a mind reader to figure out. Nick had decided there was something between them and had tasked Sam with Quinn’s protection when he wasn’t there.