So many things could go wrong tomorrow, but somehow he would find a way to keep her safe. And once the magic was renewed, he would set her free, in truth this time. Part of him wanted to go with her, to turn his back on his friends and his kovena, on his world, and spend the rest of Quinn's life with her.
But he'd do her no service that way. Outside of Vamp City, he was trapped in darkness and the shadows, unable to move freely until night blanketed the land. Still, he'd find a way to watch over her. Perhaps to visit her from time to time. She'd be safer far from his world. And he had too many ties here to leave it.
But as he watched Quinn arch her back, her hands on her hips, an ache moved through his chest, and he wondered if, when the time came, he'd actually be able to let her go.
Taking a sip of his whiskey, he rubbed his chest with his free hand. She'd awakened more than his conscience. She'd awakened within him feelings that had long lain dormant, feelings that were unlikely ever to sleep again. Because she'd stolen a part of him. And, in return, she'd given him a piece of the sun and lit a small, warm fire in his heart. There she would live for the rest of his long-and he feared, lonely-life.
Quinn was setting up the mangled remains of the chairs one more time when a rap sounded at the door. She threw a questioning look at Arturo, but he rose without concern, whiskey glass still in hand, and strode to open it.
Mukdalla handed Arturo a good-sized picnic basket. "Quinn needs to eat." She glanced Quinn's way, gave a small wave, then turned and left.
"I smell roast chicken and fresh rolls," Arturo murmured, just as the scents wafted her way.
"I smell Heaven. And I'm famished."
Arturo led her into the dining room, where a card table had been set up, flanked by two more metal chairs. Whole ones. He set the basket on the table, then pulled out a tablecloth, several covered dishes, two plates, napkins, utensils, and a couple of cans of cold Coke.
But when Quinn sat down and began serving up the food-two chicken thighs, potato salad, coleslaw-Arturo merely watched her, still sipping his whiskey.
"You're not going to join me?"
"Eat your fill, piccola. I have no need for the food, and you do."
"Trust me, Vampire, there's far more here than I could eat in three days. And we won't be here three days."
"No, we won't."
But still he made no move to serve himself, so she dug in. The chicken was delicious.
"Where will you go, once this is over?" he asked, taking the seat across from her.
She scooped up a forkful of potato salad and just stared at it. "I don't know," she replied honestly. And she didn't. For so long, she'd thought of nothing but getting Zack out of here and fleeing. But there were so many things wrong with this world, things that might or might not change when she renewed the magic. Whether or not she could make a difference, she didn't know. But part of her didn't like the idea of leaving, of running, when she might have the power to save the lives of innocent people.
And then there was Arturo. She met his gaze, her chest tight with unhappiness at the thought of never seeing him again. Their relationship-if she could call it that-was nothing if not complicated. He was a vampire, for heaven's sake. And she was an honest-to-goodness sorceress. What kind of future could they possibly have?
But there was no denying she would miss him.
He reached across the table to clasp her forearm lightly. "I want you to take my cell number. Or perhaps Micah's since I don't spend a lot of time in the real world. If you ever need anything, all you need do is call. I will help. Even if it's only to send money."
"Thanks, Vampire. We'll be fine."
"You and Zack."
She swallowed. No, not her and Zack. Zack would have Lily. Assuming . . . She looked up. "I can't leave without Lily."
"You must. Kassius will free the girl. And when she is free, she will know how to find you, yes?"
"Yes." Lily knew Zack's phone number. And if worse came to worst, she could always find him through the gaming sites they frequented.
She took the bite of potato salad and tried to swallow it past the fist in her throat. Because it wouldn't be her and Zack. Not once Lily was free. The two of them might go anywhere, probably to California as they'd planned.
And what would she do?
"Quinn." Arturo watched her with a softness that bordered on sadness. "Is there anyone else? Anyone other than Zack?"
She didn't need pity, dammit. "I'll be fine."
He just watched her, those dark eyes probing, assessing. Slowly, he lifted his glass. "To tomorrow's success, then. And to new beginnings."
He was in a strange mood.
She ate until she was full, devouring twice what she normally would have. Surprisingly, there was still food left over. "Your turn."
But he shook his head. "You'll need the rest later. The magic must be fueled."
Apparently, he was right.
As he sipped his drink, he studied her. "What other abilities do you suppose you might have?"
Quinn thought about it. She knew of one-the dark bubble she'd accidentally trapped the werewolf alpha in. As a kid, all she'd ever really done was push her stepmother a couple of times.
A sick knot formed in her stomach as she thought of the kid she'd almost killed in high school. A shiver went through her at the memory of that horrible day. It shouldn't have happened. It shouldn't have been able to happen. Except she knew better, now, didn't she? She'd been a sorceress, even then, if a barely functioning and wholly clueless one. That was the day she'd lost all her friends.
"What are you thinking, cara? They are not happy thoughts."
She shook her head, not wanting to discuss it. She'd never discussed it. And yet, maybe it was time. If there was anyone who would understand, it was Arturo.
She took a deep breath, feeling the anguish of that day, the horror of it, all over again. "It happened when I was in high school." She leaned back in her chair.
"You did not know what you were."
"I didn't, no." It was strange to think back, to try to see her entire life through a different lens. She'd never been who or what she'd thought she was. She'd never, in fact, been weird, not for a sorceress. But knowing that didn't ease the misery of that day.
"I was a good athlete," she began, wanting him to understand who she was back then. "I played on the girls' basketball team and ran on the track team. I had a lot of friends. Casual friends, probably, but I was well liked. I belonged. My best friend, perhaps my only true friend, was Owen. We'd known one another from the time we were in first grade. We'd climbed trees, made forts beneath his parents' picnic table with old blankets, and swum on the neighborhood swim team together. Even in high school, we were best friends, hanging out whenever we could."
Quinn crossed her arms, pulling them tight against her body as the hurt of the memory spread through her. "Four of us were hanging around in the locker area after school one day, waiting for track practice, when we heard a fight around the corner and went to investigate. The two boys . . ." Her breath caught, remembered anger and fear pressing against the walls of her ribcage. "One was a punk rumored to be a gang member. The other was Owen."
Arturo said nothing, but he watched her intently, hanging on her every word, and she continued.
"We all ran over, ready to defend our friend, but Owen didn't need help. He was a big kid and was winning. Until the asshole pulled a knife." She dug at her lip with her teeth, looking away, feeling the burn of tears. "I was so angry and so scared. I acted without thinking, Turo." She glanced at the vampire through the moisture in her eyes, then away again. "I grabbed the punk's arm, wanting to stop him, wanting to kill him. Five seconds later, the knife fell from his hand. Two seconds after that, he collapsed."
She was shaking, now. Why was she shaking after all these years?
"I think my eyes were glowing. Someone said something about that as they all backed away from me like I'd turned into a three-headed monster. Someone called 911, and the punk survived. The adults chalked it up to an undiagnosed heart condition, but the other kids wouldn't come near me again. Even Owen. I felt so guilty, so . . . evil. I knew I could have killed him. I knew it."
"But you didn't."
"No, but I could have. I almost did." She looked at him through a blur of tears. "How? How did I do it?"
For a moment, he said nothing. "You possess a very powerful gift."
Quinn snorted. "A dangerous one."
"Yes, though likely far less dangerous against immortal beings."
She thought about that. Vampires weren't likely to succumb to her touch, whatever it was. Was it wrong she felt relieved about that? She didn't want that gift.
"Have you tried to do it again?"
"Of course not."
"You should. The next time your life is threatened, try, bella. What have you to lose?" He watched her, understanding in his eyes. "It scares you."
"What if I can't stop it? For years, I had nightmares that everyone I touched fell down dead. Sometimes, I still do."
"That will not happen. You must want someone dead very badly to call the life from him like that. And I suspect, if you could remember what happened that day, you felt his life force coming to your call."
"I don't remember."
"It is never an easy thing when you first learn how to kill. Harder still, I imagine, when you are a child."