Arizona lightning, p.17
Arizona Lightning, page 17
One woman was missing. The one that counted.
Tess turned a cheery smile on him when he walked into the Great Room to join them. “Hey, Quinn. Haven’t seen you in a while.”
He looked around, even though he knew Ari wasn’t here. He would have sensed her. Smelled her. Heard her in his mind as she prepared herself not to be attracted to him every time he came near her.
“Ari didn’t come,” Lynn explained.
“She’s on a date,” Tess added. “Morgan called and asked her out to dinner.”
“What?” he shouted.
Both Tess and Lynn stood by the surround leather couch. Startled, they took a step closer to each other.
“Ha. Well, now,” Connell intervened. “Sorry, ladies. Quinn gets a bit of a temper if he hasn’t eaten.”
“Oh, then I’m glad we brought something with us,” Lynn said, a wary expression lingering on her face.
Food was the last thing he needed and he strode straight for the front door. Although darkness had barely set in, he took to the skies. Closing his eyes, he listened for her, flying in the direction of town. There were only a couple places to eat in Saguaro Gulch. He circled above the hotel, but couldn’t hear her. A tick of unease made him sweep to the west, toward Morgan’s farm. A small bungalow and a hundred acres his parents had left him. The closer he got, the hotter Quinn burned.
Quinn landed behind the house in a yard speckled with cacti, the lawn long since dead, and strode toward the back door. He heard Ari’s laughter and his temper fired like thrusters on a rocket. He reached the back entrance and yanked it open. The aluminum door slammed against the exterior wall, drooping with a broken hinge.
Entering the kitchen that hadn’t seen a facelift since the seventies, he rounded the corner into the living room. Cheap wood veneer panels covered the walls. The furniture needed a close encounter with a box of matches and a drizzle of lighter fluid. A blue recliner with threadbare armrests sat next to the single pane front window. Another glance revealed magazines overflowing a cardboard box stuffed under a spindly-legged side table, the dull wood a victim of too much direct sunlight.
“What the hell!” Morgan yelled, running to see what had happened and crashed into his chest. The shopkeeper stopped dead, bounced off him, and stumbled backwards.
“Quinn.” Ari stood up behind the dime store dining table with wide eyes. “What’s going on? Is someone hurt?”
He turned his attention on the human male, who gaped at him like an imbecile. “You will never ask her out again. While in her presence, you’ll be respectful. Friendly, but not attracted to her. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” Morgan nodded, his voice monotone.
“You come barging in here then have the gall to say that?” Ari spouted.
Glaring at her, a frenzy he hadn’t known since he was a batling shredded his control. Especially with the pretty blue, thigh-high skirt she wore, her legs tanned and perfectly toned, the silk blouse revealing the tops of her plump breasts.
“Why, Ari? Why the fuck would you accept his invitation?”
“Who the hell are you to ask me that? You really have some bloody nerve, friend...neighbor.” Flustered, she flapped her hand at him.
“I’m not your fucking friend, Ari.”
Her scowl deepened. “What’s your problem?”
Only this woman could make him lose his shit. “My problem,” he fired back, “is that you’re having dinner with another man.”
“I haven’t seen you in three weeks, Quinn.” Shaken, but angry, if her creased brow was any indication, she said, “Morgan, I’m so sorry about this.”
Course, Morgan didn’t move because Quinn had instructed him not to in his mind. Outraged, he stopped just short of ordering the shopkeeper to pack up and leave the county.
Until now, Ari’s surprise had kept her standing near the guy’s small Arborite table. “Morgan?” She hurried across the frayed area carpet on the living room floor. “Morgan?” She waved her hand in front of his face.
“He can’t respond.”
“What’s wrong with him?” She gripped his upper arm and shook the slack appendage.
The guy drank too much beer and didn’t exercise. In his mid-forties, the first signs of age showed on a receding hairline. Sprinting through the guy’s thoughts, Morgan felt like he’d won the jackpot when Ari had accepted his offer for dinner.
“I just told you, Ari. He can’t respond.”
“Why not?” She circled Morgan and waved her hand in front of his eyes again.
“You haven’t answered my question,” Quinn stated sharply.
“What question?” Spinning on her heels, her eyes narrowed. “Why is he standing there like a zombie?”
With one command—one stupid command, because of his temper, because this woman drove him crazy, he made a monumental mistake.
Quinn stared into her eyes. “Remember. Now! All of it, since the moment we met.”
Ari’s body stiffened. A huge puff of air exploded from her mouth. Gravity held her up for only a second, then she crumpled to the floor, holding her head.
Too late, he realized what he’d done. An overload of information, too much for her human mind to handle. When he gripped her shoulder, she swatted his hand away.
“Ari, I’m sorry.” Scooping her into his arms, he lifted her from the floor.
She squinted, as if his voice hurt her ears. Covering her face, she tried to curl into herself, but then the opposite happened. Her delicate body went limp in his arms.
“Ari?” He carried her to the faded green couch and laid her down. Quickly, he grabbed a cloth from the kitchen sink and held it under the cold water tap. He ran back and pressed it against her forehead.
Shit, no! Entering her thoughts, he saw nothing. Her mind blank, like she’d fallen into a large, black hole. He checked her pulse, scared he’d fried her circuits. Humans were fragile creatures.
Quinn picked her up and cradled her in his arms, then stepped out the back door and took to the skies. A few minutes later, he landed in her front yard and gazed into her slack features, still deep in sleep.
“Come on, Ari. Wake up.” In the house, he carried her up the stairs and shimmied onto her bed with his back against the headboard, and held her against his chest.
He waited.
Watching from the perimeter of her thoughts, hope kindled when he saw a flicker of memory. Like an engine coughing to life, images began to spring into action. Murky. Confused. A collage of color and time knitted itself together until she dreamed.
He saw himself through her eyes. The moment he’d first gotten out of the truck and she’d set eyes on him and her pulse increased. That poignant second when her heart clenched with excitement and deep attraction. The fight with the rogue the first time she learned he was a vampire. Her regrets. All her thoughts and feelings when they’d made love.
Then darkness again.
He cradled her upper body like a babe, giving her a little shake to bring her back. “No, Ari. Wake up.” Then realized her mind was shifting from unconscious to awake. Her lashes fluttered and her eyes opened. Ari’s fingers gripped his leg.
Tight creases lined her forehead. “Quinn? What have you done?”
Her shallow breathing worried him. “I’m sorry.” She wiggled to free herself, and he placed her on the bed beside him. “I lost my temper.”
“Lost your temper?” She tried to shift herself to a sitting position and flopped down again. “Why do I feel like I’ve been hit by a train?”
“That’s my fault too. It’ll pass.”
“You sure, because it doesn’t feel that way.” She covered her face.
Dark outside, the only light in the room came from her lamp on the bedside table. He reached over her and turned it off.
“Quinn?”
He massaged her shoulder, the only comfort he could offer. “I’m here.”
“If I had an ounce of energy in my body, I’d use it to kick you in the nuts.”
He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “And I’d deserve it,” he whispered.
“Why did you do this to me? I thought we agreed to keep me in the dark. Hide your secret.”
“Instinct. Possessiveness.” He wasn’t proud of his actions.
One of the main differences between a Biological vampire and a Second Blood was that they didn’t lose control. Vampires like him were seen as blue bloods. Some would say better than street-made blood suckers. Part of being born and raised a vampire was the training their parents bestowed on them. They learned to control the frenzy.
Ari groaned and stared up at the ceiling. “Possessive over what? Me? Not likely.”
He slid off the bed and lifted her, then laid her back under the covers. As penance, he moved away from her.
“Yes, for you,” he said, sitting in her overstuffed chair.
“Did you hurt Morgan?”
Disgruntled at where her concern lay, he gruffed out, “He’ll be fine.”
She rolled onto her side to face him, then curled the pillow under her cheek. “What about me? Have you baked my mind? Because that’s what it feels like.”
“Go to sleep. Tomorrow, you’ll feel better.”
She nodded and closed her eyes.
He waited until her mind drifted into slumber and envisioned a healing, cool mist around her.
****
By four o’clock the next day, he paced the ranch headquarters like a caged animal. By five o’clock, he couldn’t handle it anymore and drove to Ari’s ranch.
Tess met him in the front yard. “Hey, Quinn. Les said he was looking for you. Needed to ask you something.”
Not interested in pleasantries, he said, “I don’t see Ari. Is she in the barn?”
“No, she’s not feeling well.”
His gaze swayed toward the house. “What do you mean?”
“Probably the flu. I couldn’t get her out of bed this morning, which means she must feel damn bad. She’s been resting all day. Hope we don’t all catch it. I’m heading into town to meet Lynn for dinner at the hotel.” She hooked her purse over her arm. “Try to get Ari to eat. I couldn’t. I’ll see ya.”
When Tess had driven away, he launched himself up the front stairs and bolted through the living room, then up to the second story. Quietly, he opened her bedroom door. Little light penetrated the closed curtains, casting the room in a soothing darkness. Ari lay under one sheet, her eyes shut.
He sat on the edge of her bed. “Ariana?”
“Present,” she said dreamily, lying on her back.
“I don’t think you are. What’s wrong? Tell me.” He leaned closer. Placed his fingers against her pale cheek. Her body temperature wasn’t warm enough for a healthy human.
“Nothing. Just need some sleep.”
Last night he’d admitted to Connell and Donnor what he’d done, then listened to them both give him shit.
“I’m going to make you some coffee.”
“Don’t want any. Go away.”
Touching her arm, her skin felt tacky. Sweat gathered at the collar of her pajamas. Maybe she did have the flu. Pressing his thumb to her throat, her pulse beat too slowly. “I’ll be back.”
She flopped her hand, but didn’t bother to move anything else.
He looked through the fridge, gripping the milk carton and plucked a peach and a banana from the counter. After pitting and peeling the fruit, he dumped it all in the blender. Scanning the kitchen table, he saw a few vitamin bottles. Reading the label, one was an Iron supplement. Another was a woman’s multi-vitamin. He added two capsules of each into the blender, along with some pineapple juice and ice.
Returning to her room, he hovered at the edge of her bed. This was not his Ari. She fought him when he slid onto the mattress and propped her to a sitting position against his chest and forced her to drink. She coughed and swore at him, but drank it down. It had zero result and within minutes she slept again.
He couldn’t go back and meddle in her mind. He’d do more harm than good.
Quinn stayed with her for an hour. Finally, he couldn’t stand just watching her sleep and carefully crept into her mind. Between gaps of darkness, there were sluggish grey images. Something was definitely wrong. He’d never encountered this before. Maybe it was the only human way for her to heal after he’d ripped down the walls he’d erected.
He withdrew from her thoughts and watched her rest, but there was no change in her condition. His flicker of concern turned into an inferno of worry.
Ari was dying. He was certain of it.
Chapter Sixteen
Thrusting open the thick oak door to the front entry of the Connelly ranch house, the wood crashed against the wall. Connell, Donner and a group of foremen seated at the long dining room table all snapped their heads in his direction. Quinn didn’t slow down, mounting the curved stairwell to the second floor, taking the steps three at a time.
When he reached his room, the second door on the right, both of his brothers were behind him and the wranglers had left the house.
“What’s going on?” Connell asked, watching him open his laptop and click on the app to have an overseas face to face.
Watching his movements, Donnor asked, “You’re calling Ireland, why?”
Connell stepped to his side. Quinn swiveled in his leather chair to face his brother. “Ari. I think she’s dying.”
“Nice job, brother,” Connell said, disgust evident by the curl of his lower lip.
A ding sounded from his laptop. Their mother, Claudette, appeared on the screen in a cream-colored satin blouse and a dark choker around her long, elegant neck. Usually, she wore her shimmering blonde hair in a bun, but today it flowed over her shoulders. Crystalline blue eyes, like his own, creased at the corners with concern.
“Quinn, tell me what’s happened,” she said without a greeting.
“How do you know something has happened, Máthair?” Donnor asked with surprise.
“Because you are my sons. Now explain, Quinn. I’ve never in all my years felt such unrest from you.” She paused. “Fear,” she corrected, and her eyes widened. “You’re afraid.”
Their father took a seat in a high back chair next to their mother. “My Lord,” Quinn said, as he always greeted his father.
Liam Connelly, the sire of not only their family, but leader of all the Vrykolakas, was an austere male. He, too, had startling blue eyes but dark hair that he wore in a trimmed style. He rarely smiled. He rarely got angry. Calm and in control at all times.
“I need your wisdom,” Quinn replied. “I did something rash and hurt someone I...” He eyed Connell looming over his shoulder. “A woman I know.”
His mother turned a quick glace toward their sire. “A woman. A human?”
He nodded and pulled his cowboy hat from his head and tossed it onto the dark wood of the desktop. “Yes, she’s human. I think she’s dying because I removed the hazing I’d put in her mind too quickly. As in, all at once. She’s lethargic. Slow pulse. Sleeps more than she’s awake. And when I search her thoughts, I see only darkness.”
“Only one thing you can do,” his father answered.
“No!” Both his brothers jerked from his loud response. “I won’t let her die.”
His father’s sleek brows lifted. “That’s not what I was going to say. As a last resort, feed her a small amount of your blood. Two ounces should work.”
“Can I give her Connell or Donnor’s blood?”
His father sat forward, still a formidable figure with broad shoulders and square jaw. “You could, but the chances of her surviving lessen. It’s your essence that placed the blocks and removed them. Her best chance is with your blood.”
His mother nodded. “If you do this, be forewarned, you cannot feed from her. The draw to take her life would be nearly irresistible.”
Connell chuckled. “Ari wouldn’t be happy finding out she’s one step away from becoming a vampire.”
Quinn almost laughed when his parents’ heads tilted at the same time and in the same direction.
“Who is this woman?” his mother asked.
“A neighbor. I don’t have time to explain.”
****
Ten minutes later, Quinn drove up to Ari’s front porch and parked beside a blue Ford truck.
He didn’t bother to knock. Dr. Holmstead sat in the living room with Tess and Lynn.
“Quinn? How are you?” he asked.
“Doc,” he greeted, scanning the women’s worried faces. “How is she?”
Doc shook his balding head. “Not good. I think I’ll have her transported to the hospital in Nogales. They can run tests and determine the cause of her illness.”
Maybe he wasn’t to blame. Could be a coincidence, although in Quinn’s gut, he doubted it. “What do you think is wrong?”
“Not sure. Her symptoms are all over the spectrum. Could be a super flu, but her heart rate is dangerously low, as is her blood pressure. Listlessness and the need to sleep is indicative of many illnesses. I initially suspected a tumor, but she doesn’t have a headache. Worst case scenario is cancer. Quite possibly Leukemia. I’ve explained this all to Tess and Lynn.”
Lynn stood by the old fireplace, her arms tightly crossed wearing a floppy sweater. “I’ll go with her to the hospital,” she stated tightly.
Tess and Lynn’s inner voices were both filled with fear.
“Can I see her?” Quinn asked.
Lynn nodded.
Closing Ari’s bedroom door, he saw her curled up under the sheets. This is my fault. I hope you’ll forgive me for this. He crossed the room and sat next to her on the bed. She didn’t say a word when he drew her into his arms, cradling her. The bags under her eyes were dark. Her skin had turned from pale, to grey and mottled.
“Quinn, I’m tired. Please, just leave me alone.” Her eyes opened and stared up at him. Normally bright and inquisitive, the whites had a sickly yellow tinge.
“I brought something to make you feel better.”
“What? Some old-fashioned vampire recipe? No thanks.”
“Something like that.” He lifted the vial he pulled from his shirt pocket and placed it to her mouth. “I want you to drink this.”
