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A Kiss of Blood(6)

By:Pamela Palmer


"No."

"I'll call Dad and ask him to drive down, then I'll renew the magic, find Lily, and come back to you."

"No, Quinn." Her brother straightened, staring at her with the pride of a grown man. "I'll find her."

"You're too sick."

"I'll be better once I return to V.C."

"You don't know that."

Zack's gaze unfocused as if turning inward. A moment later, he nodded. "Yes, I do. I'm going back." In his eyes, she saw a strength that hadn't been there a month ago. A conviction. And she realized she wasn't going to talk him out of this.

She wasn't sure she should.

Quinn turned away, digging her hands into her hair, hands that were beginning to shake. Because all of her carefully erected plans were shattering at once. She had no choice but to go back, now-she knew that-to renew the magic and to try to see Zack and Lily safely out of there again, even if it was the last thing she accomplished of her own free will. Zack had always been the most important person in her life, and she wasn't about to turn her back on him now, when his life was at stake.

Outside, the sirens died, car doors slamming shut as the cops swarmed the building.

"It will be dark enough to leave within the hour," Arturo said quietly. "Will you come willingly, cara?"

She was surprised that he bothered to ask, now that she was back in his clutches. Then again, she was armed. And even without wooden bullets, an unwilling sorceress could be a dangerous companion, as she'd proved on more than one occasion even if she hadn't been in full control.

He needed her.

The balance of power between them had shifted subtly but profoundly.

"I have promised to find Lily and to keep all of you safe, Quinn. All I ask is that you save my friends and my world in return."

She met his gaze. "I'm not sure Vamp City needs saving."

Dark eyes studied her. "Even if it's the only way to keep your brother alive?"

And that was the real heart of the matter because there was nothing she wouldn't do to save Zack. And Arturo knew it. She'd made it abundantly clear on her previous visits. Zack was her Achilles' heel.

But Arturo had his own problems now. He'd almost certainly screwed the pooch when he'd taken her from Cristoff, which meant his own survival likely depended on his protecting her. She might not be as powerful as the vampires, but she had leverage this time that she'd lacked before, and she understood far better the game they played. Not only would she never again automatically trust a word they said, but she was the only one with a snowflake's chance in Hell of saving their friends and their world. They needed her alive, and they needed her cooperation.

She met Arturo's gaze, that knowledge in her eyes. "I'll go back, and I'll renew the magic. But there are going to be conditions. And if you betray me again, Vampire, I'll let your world die."

His brow lifted, and she knew he recognized the hollowness of her threat. As long as Zack needed the magic renewed, she'd renew it. But he didn't call her on it. Instead, his expression turned serious, his gaze gripping hers. Slowly, he nodded, a single downward dip of his head. "I will not betray you again, Quinn. Never again, cara. Someday, you will believe that."

She doubted that. But it was a moot point. She was going back to save her brother. And the only one she intended to trust was herself.
                       
       
           



       Chapter Three





Through Micah's closed apartment door, Quinn could hear the cops storming her own apartment, then spilling back into the hallway.

At the pounding on Micah's door, Quinn tensed, but when she started to rise, to hide, Arturo shook his head. "You're in no danger."

Quinn eyed him skeptically. "And the cops?"

"They are in no danger, either."

Though she couldn't see the door from the leather sofa where she sat in Micah's living room, she heard Micah explaining that he'd heard a car backfiring on the street. The front door closed, but Micah didn't return.

Quinn glanced at Arturo. "Did he leave?"

"Yes. He'll move among the cops, using mind control to convince the majority that there were no gunshots. Once they leave, we can go. It's almost full dark."

"Where do you plan to take us that Cristoff won't find us?"

"To a friend of ours. You will both be safe there, I assure you."

She snorted.

"You do not trust me, cara mia." The words were soft, almost sad. But his gaze unsettled her pulse in a way that was all too pleasant. All too annoying. "I am sorry for the necessity of my lies."

"Necessity? And are you sorry, too, for the lies you're telling me now? That you'll tell me in the future?"

His mouth tightened, but he didn't answer.

"Where does your friend live?"

"I cannot tell you more. Doing so would endanger him should you fall into the wrong hands."

"Which you've promised won't happen," she countered.

He dipped his head. "I have. But some things are out of even my control."

She gave him a look of disgust. "Of course they are." Unable to remain still for another second, she rose and began pacing, wishing she could look out the window. But the only way to do that was to pull out her knife and slice away the heavy fabric. It wasn't worth it.

Within the hour, she'd be leaving everything she owned behind. Again. But she felt no slam of grief. Barely even a twinge of regret. She liked her job well enough, but it had never been her life. Her friends she'd let slip away as the evidence of her "weirdness," her magic, had begun to mount. And none of those friends had ever been more than casual acquaintances. Zack was the only family she had. At least he was the only one who mattered. And he was going with her.

There were things she'd miss, of course. Sunlight. Starbucks. Her cell phone. But otherwise, she would leave little behind of consequence.

The front door opened and Micah slipped inside. "We're good," he said, as if it had been a foregone conclusion. And it probably had.

"Are you going with us?" she asked.

"I am."

That pleased her, probably because she was still inclined to think of him as her wine-and-dessert buddy rather than Arturo's vampire spy. Which was a mistake.

Micah glanced at Arturo, a question in his eyes that had her spidey sense flaring to life. Especially when Arturo nodded.

"What?" she demanded.

Arturo was the one who explained. "Micah has an ability to glamour others for short periods of time. A day or two at most."

Micah grunted. "Only a few hours today, I'm afraid. I haven't fed for a while."

Quinn frowned, ignoring the feeding comment. "What do you mean ‘glamour'?"

Micah's expression gentled. "I'll essentially place a mask over you, giving you the face of another woman except for your eyes, which cannot be changed. It won't hurt. You'll barely feel it, in fact. But no one will recognize you until the glamour wears off."

"So if we're stopped, no one will know me even if they've seen me before."

"Precisely."

Arturo grunted. "Unless you lose control of your magic."

Zack leaned forward on the sofa. "This I've got to see."

Quinn glanced at her brother, then crossed her arms over her chest. The glamour would be an excellent defense if they came upon Cristoff's men, which they could easily do. But she just didn't know how much she could trust Micah despite her admittedly biased instincts that, vampire or not, he really was her friend. She hated not knowing. And hated the fact that if she was going to work with them to get the magic renewed without Cristoff's knowing, she was going to have to trust them, at least to some extent.

Micah stood before her, studying her. "Your blond hair is too striking, I think. Your features too even, too attractive."

Arturo made a sound like that of a jealous male. As if he had any right. But Micah ignored him. Instead, he lifted his hands, touching her cheeks with cool fingertips. She wondered if his vampire coolness was the reason he'd never touched her or made a single move on her when she thought he was Mike. Would she have realized what he was if she'd felt how cool his skin was? She'd like to think so, but she just didn't know.

As he stroked her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, he watched her with kind eyes. Mike's eyes.

Her gaze fell to his cheek. "That scar didn't come from a sliding glass door, did it?"

"No. It was a gift from the Gauls who slaughtered my family and enslaved me when I was twelve."

The Gauls. She stared at him, feeling bludgeoned all over again by the reality of who he was. He might have Mike's eyes, but this male was a centuries-old vampire. And she'd do well to remember that.

Slowly, his eyes closed. Cool hands splayed across her cheeks, barely touching her, and suddenly her flesh began to tingle. The feeling spread into her scalp and down her neck, into her body, a sensation that felt odd but not particularly unpleasant.

"Fuck," Zack breathed.

Micah pulled his hands back, the tingling dying away as he opened his eyes and began to smile.

Quinn turned to where Zack stared at her wide-eyed.

"You don't look like you. You look . . . weird, sis."

"Thanks a lot."

Arturo, watching her intently as he did so often, gave a satisfied nod.