transported magically was similar, and yet different, from when he did it as a vampire. Both were fast, but they didn’t affect him the same way. When he transported from place to place, he had no real sense of movement. He thought of where he wanted to go and he was there. When Seleena did it, he was aware of moving through time and space.
But both methods got you where you wanted to go.
As soon as they reached home, Seleena went into the kitchen and brewed a pot of tea. He could see she was still badly shaken at knowing that the daughter she had thought dead these past weeks was still alive.
Thinking she probably needed a few minutes alone, Quinn went to his room and stretched out on the bed. While he appreciated being able to be awake during the day, he was sometimes overcome with the urge to crawl into a dark place and rest.
Eyes closed, he followed her progress in the kitchen by sound alone – her footsteps as she crossed from the stove to the cupboard. The clink of china as she placed cup and saucer on the counter. A hiss of hot water as she filled her cup. Her footsteps again as she moved into the living room. The creak of the rocker as she sat down. Freyja’s purr as the cat settled on her lap.
The near-silent whisper of tears slipping down her cheeks.
He stayed on the bed, eyes closed, for several moments and then, unable to help himself, he went into the living room. Took the cup from her hand, placed it on table next to the rocking chair, and pulled her to her feet.
And into his arms.
Her eyes were red and puffy, her hair mussed, and she had never looked more desirable. Murmuring her name, he covered her mouth with his.
She leaned into him, her eyelids fluttering down as she clasped her hands behind his neck. Every thought fled her mind as his tongue swept over her lower lip, stealing the breath from her lungs, the strength from her legs. She clung to him, her whole body aching for his touch.
Until she remembered that he had been her daughter’s lover. She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter, but she couldn’t get past it, especially now, knowing that Serepta was still alive. That she might still have power over him.
With a choked cry, she placed her palms flat against Quinn’s chest and pushed. It was like trying to move a mountain.
For a moment, she thought he wouldn’t release her.
For a moment, she hoped he wouldn’t. But only a moment. So why did she feel bereft when he stepped away?
His knowing gaze met hers. She could almost hear his voice, slightly taunting, assuring her that sooner or later, it was going to happen.
Hands clenched, she lifted her chin. Maybe he was right, she thought defiantly. But it wouldn’t be today.
#
Too restless to sit still, Seleena went out to work in her garden. She had been afraid that Quinn would follow her, but he had sent her one last smug look and returned to his room.
Angry with him, annoyed with herself, she pulled weeds with a vengeance, turned the soil, gathered a variety of herbs. And all the while she relived his kiss, the way his arms felt around her -- sure and strong and, yes, even comforting. The way she felt so at home in his embrace. How was that possible when she had known him such a short time? When they had nothing in common? He was a bounty hunter, a rootless wanderer. A vampire. Even though she had conjured a spell to allow him to walk in the sunlight and to consume mortal food, he was no longer mortal. Nardik was certain that, sooner or later, Quinn would lose control and succumb to his vampire nature. That fear, however much she tried to ignore it, was a very real possibility.
She looked down when Freyja rubbed against her leg. “What is it?”
The cat meowed loudly, her bright yellow eyes glinting in the sun’s light.
With a nod, Seleena left the basket of herbs on the kitchen table on her way to open the door for Nardik.
She knew by the look on his face that he hadn’t found Serepta.
“There was no sign of her,”
But both methods got you where you wanted to go.
As soon as they reached home, Seleena went into the kitchen and brewed a pot of tea. He could see she was still badly shaken at knowing that the daughter she had thought dead these past weeks was still alive.
Thinking she probably needed a few minutes alone, Quinn went to his room and stretched out on the bed. While he appreciated being able to be awake during the day, he was sometimes overcome with the urge to crawl into a dark place and rest.
Eyes closed, he followed her progress in the kitchen by sound alone – her footsteps as she crossed from the stove to the cupboard. The clink of china as she placed cup and saucer on the counter. A hiss of hot water as she filled her cup. Her footsteps again as she moved into the living room. The creak of the rocker as she sat down. Freyja’s purr as the cat settled on her lap.
The near-silent whisper of tears slipping down her cheeks.
He stayed on the bed, eyes closed, for several moments and then, unable to help himself, he went into the living room. Took the cup from her hand, placed it on table next to the rocking chair, and pulled her to her feet.
And into his arms.
Her eyes were red and puffy, her hair mussed, and she had never looked more desirable. Murmuring her name, he covered her mouth with his.
She leaned into him, her eyelids fluttering down as she clasped her hands behind his neck. Every thought fled her mind as his tongue swept over her lower lip, stealing the breath from her lungs, the strength from her legs. She clung to him, her whole body aching for his touch.
Until she remembered that he had been her daughter’s lover. She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter, but she couldn’t get past it, especially now, knowing that Serepta was still alive. That she might still have power over him.
With a choked cry, she placed her palms flat against Quinn’s chest and pushed. It was like trying to move a mountain.
For a moment, she thought he wouldn’t release her.
For a moment, she hoped he wouldn’t. But only a moment. So why did she feel bereft when he stepped away?
His knowing gaze met hers. She could almost hear his voice, slightly taunting, assuring her that sooner or later, it was going to happen.
Hands clenched, she lifted her chin. Maybe he was right, she thought defiantly. But it wouldn’t be today.
#
Too restless to sit still, Seleena went out to work in her garden. She had been afraid that Quinn would follow her, but he had sent her one last smug look and returned to his room.
Angry with him, annoyed with herself, she pulled weeds with a vengeance, turned the soil, gathered a variety of herbs. And all the while she relived his kiss, the way his arms felt around her -- sure and strong and, yes, even comforting. The way she felt so at home in his embrace. How was that possible when she had known him such a short time? When they had nothing in common? He was a bounty hunter, a rootless wanderer. A vampire. Even though she had conjured a spell to allow him to walk in the sunlight and to consume mortal food, he was no longer mortal. Nardik was certain that, sooner or later, Quinn would lose control and succumb to his vampire nature. That fear, however much she tried to ignore it, was a very real possibility.
She looked down when Freyja rubbed against her leg. “What is it?”
The cat meowed loudly, her bright yellow eyes glinting in the sun’s light.
With a nod, Seleena left the basket of herbs on the kitchen table on her way to open the door for Nardik.
She knew by the look on his face that he hadn’t found Serepta.
“There was no sign of her,”
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