"Any word on the sorceress?"
Quinn frowned, wondering why he was asking Horace about her when she was sitting right there.
"Nah. Some say she's a shifter and turned herself into a bug and escaped Cristoff that way. Others say she's far more powerful than Cristoff knew and transported herself out of his prison. But no one's seen her."
"Thank you, Horace. I need you to send word to Mukdalla. Tell her I have a couple of gifts for her, and I'm in immediate need of transport to pick them up."
With a deferential nod, Horace turned and left.
Eyes narrowed, Quinn turned to Arturo. "What was that all about? He doesn't know who I am?"
"You're glamoured, cara."
She grimaced. "Right." She'd forgotten about that.
"But it wouldn't matter either way. He doesn't remember having met you. None of my servants do. Nor do they remember seeing Zack."
"You took their memories?"
"I did. And I'll take them again when we leave. For their protection as well as yours."
Quinn leaned forward, her arms on her knees. "What's the plan, Vampire? Don't leave me in the dark. I assume Zack and I are the gifts in need of transport?"
"You are." He leaned forward, mirroring her, until their faces were but a couple of feet apart. As he watched her, his eyes softened, deepening, his gaze probing as if he meant to coax her to lower her defenses. Instead, she leaned back, putting distance between them.
His brows flickered down in disappointment, his expression clearing, turning military cool once more. "Later tonight, we'll transfer you to a place of safety."
She frowned. "You're not going."
"You go nowhere without me. Micah and I will follow at a distance, keeping watch over you. We will rendezvous with you there."
"Wherever ‘there' is."
With a gleam in his eyes, he gave a nod, then glanced at Micah. "Show Zack to the dining room, amico mio. I should like a moment alone with Quinn."
She wasn't sure she wanted a moment alone with him. But she said nothing as Micah gave his friend an assessing look, then rose. "Let's find you some food, Zack."
Zack jumped up more quickly than he'd moved for days, easing the clamp around her heart. When they were alone, she turned back to the vampire, curious and wary.
Arturo watched her, searching her face . . . No, not her face. "I have missed you, tesoro," he said quietly, his dark eyes gleaming, his voice rich with seduction.
She snorted. "You're really going to do this, now? Try to get me back into your bed?"
With a quick grin and a shake of his head, he leaned back in his chair, eyeing her wryly. "Why do you think I am not sincere?"
"Not sincere that you've missed me or that you want me back in your bed?"
"You were the one that brought up the bed, cara, not I." His expression, faintly mocking, turned serious. "I have missed you."
She cocked her head. "How did you happen to be at Mike's . . . Micah's . . . this afternoon? Have you been spying on me, too?"
"I prefer to call it watching over you. Protecting you. I have spent as much time with Micah as I could though not as much as I would have liked. I caught a glimpse of you only rarely though your emotions were my constant companion. Your worry nearly drove me to distraction. I thought your fear was that vampires would find you. But your fear was for Zack, not for yourself. I did not realize Zack was sick." He leaned forward again, eyeing her intently. "I do not like it when you suffer."
She just stared at him, feeling like he'd kicked her in the chest. "You have a funny way of showing it." Twice he'd turned her over to his sadistic master.
The vampire looked down at his hands, his breath leaving his body on a sigh. Slowly, he lifted his head, meeting her gaze with eyes so dark, so deep, she knew if she wasn't careful, she could fall into them and never find her way out again.
"I am sorry, cara mia, for what you suffered at Cristoff's hands. I knew he would be angry, but I did not think he would . . ." His hands curled into fists, his jaw turning rigid. "I could not stop him, Quinn. A vampire never questions his master's words or actions unless he intends to challenge him for his position."
"Which means?"
"To have objected to Cristoff's punishment of you would have been tantamount to calling him out, to declaring my intention of killing him and taking his place. Which, of course, would have meant he'd have immediately ordered my death in return. Kassius would have sided with me, as would Bram, who was in the stronghold at the time, and perhaps others. In all likelihood, we'd all have died. And then you'd have had no one to look out for you."
Sincerity rang in his tone, regret throbbed in his eyes, and instinct told her he spoke the truth. She'd seen enough of Cristoff to believe that he'd allow no questioning of his actions. Still, she wasn't about to let him off the hook that easily. She said nothing.
"He was not always this way, Quinn. He was honorable once. Despite being a pain-feeder, he was never cruel except to his enemies." He looked down at his clasped hands. "Micah is right. Many of us have changed, particularly since the magic began to fail. Cristoff most of all."
He looked up, dark eyes pulling at her once more. "I have hope, Quinn, that when the magic is renewed, he will once more become the man-the vampire-he once was. Ruthless to his enemies, yes. And as I fear he will always see you as such, you can never go near him. But not sadistic, as he has become. Do you know he used to refuse to cause pain? We used to walk the battlefields, just walk them, gorging on the fear and the agony the humans inflicted upon one another. He has lost his soul, cara. I have hope he may, with the magic's renewal, find it and become that male again."
"Do you really believe that's possible?" Cristoff was as soulless, as evil, as any creature could possibly be.
"I must."
For the first time, she realized how honestly devoted Arturo must have been to Cristoff at one time. And how hard it must be to watch a man you've admired, and perhaps even loved, turn into a monster. If, that is, you hadn't done the same.
She'd never known Arturo to be a monster, but just how fully functioning his conscience was now, or had been in the past, she had reason to question. She'd be a fool to trust him any more than she had to.
"I hope you're right. For all of our sakes." A benevolent Cristoff might be far easier to escape. She rose.
Arturo followed. "I will never let him hurt you again, cara mia." His fingers curled around her upper arm, and he stepped closer. "No one will hurt you again. I vow it."
"You can't make that promise. And I don't need you to. I can take care of myself."
He dipped his head, his nose brushing her hair. "Nevertheless." His head dipped farther, his lips tasting the side of her neck, sending shivers dancing through her blood. Her mind urged her to put distance between them, but her body remembered all too well the delight she'd known at his hands and resisted. His scent of almonds and moonlight invaded her senses and her body came alive at his touch. Her pulse raced. It would be all too easy to give in, to let him lead her upstairs and drown her worries in passion and pleasure.
Instead, she pulled away.
"Don't, Vampire. We're not going to be lovers again. We're not going to be anything."
"Now it is you who lie, tesoro. If only to yourself." He watched her with disappointment. "You respond to my touch as few ever have. And I to yours. Your merest kiss turns my skin warm. You cannot deny this."
"It doesn't matter. If you want me to save your world, then that's how it's going to be."
His mouth tightened, but the only emotion she saw in his eyes was regret. "So be it. Join your brother and eat, cara. I have things to discuss with Micah."
As she led the way to the dining room, she was all too aware of him at her back, too physically aware of him on every level. There was something about him that drew her like a moth to flame. It would be all too easy to give in to the pleasure she knew he could give her, indescribable pleasure that had haunted her dreams since the last time she was in his arms.
But the closer she let him get, the more likely she was to trust him again. And that was something she refused to do.
Chapter Five
Quinn found Zack at the dining-room table devouring homemade rolls as fast as he could butter them up and shove them into his mouth. The room was lovely in an old-fashioned fussy kind of way, the walls papered dark red, a gold-and-crystal chandelier hanging above an antique, ornately carved table. Gilt-framed paintings lined the walls, some exact duplicates of originals that would go for millions at auction in the real world . . . if the originals didn't already hang in museums.
"Your brother looks better," Arturo commented behind her.
Quinn nodded. "It's amazing. He really did need to come back here."
"I have told you the truth, have I not?" Arturo's cool fingers stroked the side of her neck.
She stepped away from him. "Lucky guess."
"Educated guess."
"Regardless, thank God it worked."
As Quinn reached for the chair at a right angle to her brother's, Arturo pulled it out for her. She met his even gaze. Whatever else he was, she'd always known him to be a gentleman and a charmer.