His fingers tight around her arm, the guard pulled her up the stairs to stand in front of the pale, skinny Fabian. The vampire master rose to his feet as she approached, his hand reaching out to stroke her hair with surprising gentleness, even reverence.
"Beautiful. Like spun gold. Your skin like porcelain. Take off your clothes, lovely. I'll finish inside of you."
No way in hell. Her pulse tripped, escalating fast and hard as she considered her exceedingly limited options. This was the reason she should have held on to her stakes.
"Now, woman," Fabian snapped.
"Go to hell."
The hand in her hair tangled and jerked, and he pushed her head down toward his erection.
"I prefer pleasure to pain, but I will have obedience. Either you submit to me here, or I'll hand you over to my guards, to be taken away and used in any way they wish. Most of my guards are pain-feeders, in case you're wondering." He jerked her head up again, making her cry out from the ripping sensation along her scalp. "Submit."
She met his gaze, terror and fury twining inside of her, feeding the flame beneath her flesh. "No."
Fabian jerked back, his face suddenly a mask of shock. Slowly he began to grin. "Well, well."
Ah, crud. Her eyes must be glowing.
Arturo, damn his vampire hide, finally decided to join her. He rose and moved to Fabian's side, smiling a hard, humorless smile. "Hello, sorceress."
Chapter Eighteen
Arturo grabbed Quinn's arm roughly, turning on Fabian. "You've been harboring her."
Quinn's knees nearly buckled as Arturo took her out of Fabian's grasp. She'd inadvertently handed Arturo the upper hand and, to her vast relief, hadn't blown his cover at all. She just had another role to play now, as Arturo pretended to be discovering her here for the first time. Unfortunately, the relief was having no effect on her building power.
Fabian scowled, a hint of alarm in his expression. "I had no idea she was here. Cristoff must believe that. I've never seen her." His gaze slowly raked over her. "I would certainly remember if I had."
Arturo remained silent for several moments, acting thoroughly steamed. Finally, he released a frustrated sigh. Cristoff's snake was more than a first-class manipulator. He was a hell of an actor.
"Cristoff will be most pleased that you found her." His voice sounded conciliatory on the surface, but the underlying threat was unmistakable. "I am quite certain he'll send a gift of appreciation. But I must return her to Cristoff immediately. If he learns that I delayed in returning her to him once I found her, he will be furious, of course."
Fabian's expression shifted back and forth between consternation and frustration, clearly irritated with the turn of events that now forced him to take a defensive role.
His mouth twisted with annoyance. "Of course."
Quinn was trembling now as the magic burning beneath her skin fought to get out. Slowly, the ground beneath her began to shake, escalating quickly in violence. Crystal crashed to the tile floor, shattering, snuffing candles. Vampires and Slavas alike cried out.
At any moment, her power would fly, pushing them all back against the walls. And then what? She'd never escape, not surrounded by vampires. But Arturo might lose the upper hand, especially if Fabian became enraged. She needed to find a way to pull it back, tamp it down. She must!
The power turned on her suddenly. One moment she was shaking as if she were about to blow. The next she felt as if a dozen knives were slicing up her flesh. With a cry, she doubled over from the ripping, ungodly pain. It flayed her body, tearing at her mind until she could feel nothing else and think of nothing at all.
The agony tripled as she was lifted and flung over a hard shoulder.
"I will leave for Cristoff's when my Slava awakens," Arturo told Fabian.
Quinn didn't hear Fabian's response if he made one. She felt them moving, cried out in agony with every one of his steps.
I am sorry, tesoro. So very sorry. But he cannot know how your pain slays me.
A lifetime later, she felt herself lowered gently onto a hard mattress. Cool fingers stroked her cheeks. "Cara mia. Tell me what you need. Tell me how to help you."
She reached for his hand, clinging to his strength. "I didn't want to throw you against the wall."
"So you swallowed the power."
"I suppose. It attacked me." Slowly, the pain began to die, and she released a pent-up breath as she realized she was no longer in danger of losing control.
A rap on the door had her opening her eyes and Arturo pulling away.
"Ax."
At the sound of Micah's voice, Arturo strode to the door to let him in.
"What happened?" Micah demanded.
Quinn struggled to sit up, the pain still darting across her skull.
Micah grimaced. "Your glamour didn't last, I see. At least you were hidden." He glanced from one of them to the other, frowning. "Someone saw, didn't they? What happened?"
Voice tight, Quinn told them everything.
"Fuck. Sorry about that." Micah sighed. "I can glamour you again, but it's not going to last long. I've about depleted my stores keeping my own glamour up. A little passion might help, but Quinn's clearly in too much pain to feed me any pleasure."
And that was the truth if there ever was one.
Arturo sat beside her and pulled her against him. His hand was cold where it brushed hers, and she took hold of it and lifted it to her aching forehead.
"That feels good," she murmured.
He kissed her hair, stroking her arm with his free hand until, slowly, the pain slid away. His gentleness tried to stir something soft deep inside of her, but she kept remembering the way he'd watched as Fabian threatened her, making no move whatsoever to come to her aid. She had to believe he wouldn't have let it go too far. He wouldn't have stood there and watched Fabian rape her. But she couldn't forget the way he'd watched Cristoff beat her senseless a couple of weeks ago and never raised so much as an objection.
She pulled away. "We have to go to Vintry. Immediately." She didn't dare leave this room as herself, not yet. Pulling up her sleeve, she strode to Micah and offered him her wrist. "Feed. I need you turn me back into Jillian."
Micah looked at her with surprise, his gaze swiveling to Arturo. But when Arturo started toward her, she held up her hand. "No. Just Micah. Just blood this time."
Arturo frowned. "Cara."
"Vampire . . ." She glanced at Micah, who was watching them curiously, though his fangs had already elongated. "Would you please eat? We don't have much time."
His expression bemused, Micah took her arm and lifted her wrist to his mouth, sinking his fangs painlessly into her flesh.
"You are angry with me," Arturo said quietly. "I would not have let him hurt you."
She met his gaze and saw the sincerity in his eyes. "That's good."
His mouth tightened. "You do not believe me."
For a long moment, she stared at him. "Honestly, I don't know, Vampire. You've changed. I know you've changed. And yet it was just two weeks ago when you watched Cristoff break my ribs and did absolutely nothing to stop him."
"I have explained . . ."
She sliced her hand through the air. "I know. I understand why you couldn't challenge him before and that your conscience was still half-buried. I even understand that racing to my aid today before it was absolutely necessary would have been the wrong thing to do. That with any luck the situation would turn to our advantage, which it did. None of that alters the way I feel right now."
Micah lifted his mouth from her wrist. "Kiss him, Quinn. Either kiss him or kiss me because without a complete feeding, I'm not sure I'll be able to call your glamour up."
Quinn stared at him hard, wondering if he was trying to take advantage of the situation, either for his own gain or his buddy's. She felt Arturo move up behind her, felt his hand slide lightly over her hair.
"I would not have let him hurt you, cara mia," he said quietly. "I will not let anyone hurt you. Never again."
Dammit. She didn't want this, this softening. And yet a part of her longed to believe him, longed to be back in his arms. She turned and met his gaze, her mouth tight. But she gave a brief nod, and that's all he needed.
His finger lifted her chin. His head dipped. Sliding his hand into her hair, he pressed his mouth to hers, a tender brush of lips, undemanding, and as gentle as dew on a rose petal.
Her response was slow in coming, but it was his gentleness that tore away her defenses. The breath she'd been holding trembled out of her on a sigh as her body melted against his. She lifted her arms and circled his neck, pressing her mouth more firmly to his.
His lips parted, stroking hers, then diving inside when the last of her resistance gave way. And then thought fled, and she spiraled into sensation and passion and the certainty that this was where she belonged, where she'd always belonged.
Behind her, Micah cleared his throat. "That'll do it, kids. You did say time was of the essence?"
Quinn pulled away as Arturo lifted his face, his eyes as warm as his skin now. He cupped her cheek, then turned to Micah. "Did that help?"
"It did indeed."