Read Online The Cathedral of Cliffdale by Melissa Delport - Free Book Online
Authors: Melissa Delport
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join them at their table, and Genevieve’s obvious and instant dislike did nothing to further her cause.
One Thursday evening Quinn walked over to the tavern without much optimism, but, to her surprise, Drake was seated alone at the bar. Ignoring the queasiness in her stomach, fighting to subdue her Guardian instinct, she took a seat right beside him.
“Hi,” she smiled, ordering a beer from Phil who was just filling another order.
“Hello,” Drake gave her a perfunctory once-over and then stared moodily back into his drink.
“Where is Genevieve tonight?” Quinn persevered.
“She’s out of town.”
“On business?” He didn’t say it, but the look that he gave her made it clear that it was none of hers. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be nosey – I just don’t have many friends, you know – new to town and all.”
“It’s not the worst place to live,” he pointed out, catching her eye, and Quinn thought she detected a hint of a smile on his face. She was almost certain he thought she was flirting with him.
Quinn didn’t have the time to be offended. Without warning, a fight broke out on the other side of the bar. Phil yelled and a young woman shrieked as she was knocked to the ground in the scuffle. Quinn didn’t even see Drake move, but the next moment he was upon them, his face hard and furious. He pulled the brawling men apart, holding them by the scruffs of their shirts and frogmarched them to the door before tossing them outside in a heap. Returning to the bar, Quinn noticed his eyes slide over to where the woman was being helped to her feet by a friend. Seemingly satisfied, he dropped a few notes on the counter and nodded at Phil, before turning on his heel and stalking out into the night.
“He’s a good man,” Phil remarked, catching Quinn’s eye. “I don’t care what the others say about him – he’s a good man. It’s not the first time he’s had my back.”
Quinn recovered quickly, tossing her own money down on the counter and hastening after Drake before he had even made it halfway down the street.
“Are you okay?” she asked as she fell into step beside him. He didn’t reply. “That was a very nice thing you did back there – for Phil.” At that he stopped dead in his tracks, turning to face her, a wary look on his face.
“I am committed to Genevieve.”
“What?” Quinn didn’t follow.
“I am not sure exactly why you think I would be interested in you – although granted, you are exceptionally beautiful - but I am not.” The fact that he would think that she was romantically interested in him was so outrageous that Quinn broke into peals of laughter. Drake regarded her quizzically, as though wondering if she might be slightly mad.
“I’m sorry,” Quinn gasped, “but seriously? What on earth makes you think I would be interested in you? Granted, you are exceptionally good-looking, but really... I’m not.” Her echoing of his earlier words relaxed him, and this time there was no mistaking it – a reluctant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“In that case, I’ll walk you home.”
They walked on in preoccupied silence. Drake escorted Quinn right up the front steps, but, as she opened the door, she stood directly in the doorway, praying that he wouldn’t realise that she was barring his entry.
“Thank you for walking me,” she smiled. Drake cocked his head to one side, his eyes narrowing. Quinn leaned casually against the doorframe and an unnerving silence followed as Drake tried to make out if there was more to her than met the eye. Eventually, nodding a farewell, he left, as abruptly as before.
Walking along the darkened street Drake reflected once again on events that had taken place over five hundred years ago. He had stayed with Charlotte for five years despite the fact that she was no longer interested – her thirst for blood had completely overshadowed her love for him. He had stayed as a penance for what he had done to her,
One Thursday evening Quinn walked over to the tavern without much optimism, but, to her surprise, Drake was seated alone at the bar. Ignoring the queasiness in her stomach, fighting to subdue her Guardian instinct, she took a seat right beside him.
“Hi,” she smiled, ordering a beer from Phil who was just filling another order.
“Hello,” Drake gave her a perfunctory once-over and then stared moodily back into his drink.
“Where is Genevieve tonight?” Quinn persevered.
“She’s out of town.”
“On business?” He didn’t say it, but the look that he gave her made it clear that it was none of hers. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be nosey – I just don’t have many friends, you know – new to town and all.”
“It’s not the worst place to live,” he pointed out, catching her eye, and Quinn thought she detected a hint of a smile on his face. She was almost certain he thought she was flirting with him.
Quinn didn’t have the time to be offended. Without warning, a fight broke out on the other side of the bar. Phil yelled and a young woman shrieked as she was knocked to the ground in the scuffle. Quinn didn’t even see Drake move, but the next moment he was upon them, his face hard and furious. He pulled the brawling men apart, holding them by the scruffs of their shirts and frogmarched them to the door before tossing them outside in a heap. Returning to the bar, Quinn noticed his eyes slide over to where the woman was being helped to her feet by a friend. Seemingly satisfied, he dropped a few notes on the counter and nodded at Phil, before turning on his heel and stalking out into the night.
“He’s a good man,” Phil remarked, catching Quinn’s eye. “I don’t care what the others say about him – he’s a good man. It’s not the first time he’s had my back.”
Quinn recovered quickly, tossing her own money down on the counter and hastening after Drake before he had even made it halfway down the street.
“Are you okay?” she asked as she fell into step beside him. He didn’t reply. “That was a very nice thing you did back there – for Phil.” At that he stopped dead in his tracks, turning to face her, a wary look on his face.
“I am committed to Genevieve.”
“What?” Quinn didn’t follow.
“I am not sure exactly why you think I would be interested in you – although granted, you are exceptionally beautiful - but I am not.” The fact that he would think that she was romantically interested in him was so outrageous that Quinn broke into peals of laughter. Drake regarded her quizzically, as though wondering if she might be slightly mad.
“I’m sorry,” Quinn gasped, “but seriously? What on earth makes you think I would be interested in you? Granted, you are exceptionally good-looking, but really... I’m not.” Her echoing of his earlier words relaxed him, and this time there was no mistaking it – a reluctant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“In that case, I’ll walk you home.”
They walked on in preoccupied silence. Drake escorted Quinn right up the front steps, but, as she opened the door, she stood directly in the doorway, praying that he wouldn’t realise that she was barring his entry.
“Thank you for walking me,” she smiled. Drake cocked his head to one side, his eyes narrowing. Quinn leaned casually against the doorframe and an unnerving silence followed as Drake tried to make out if there was more to her than met the eye. Eventually, nodding a farewell, he left, as abruptly as before.
Walking along the darkened street Drake reflected once again on events that had taken place over five hundred years ago. He had stayed with Charlotte for five years despite the fact that she was no longer interested – her thirst for blood had completely overshadowed her love for him. He had stayed as a penance for what he had done to her,
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