Chapter 33
The sound of tires on the gravel driveway alerted Quinn to her visitor. She calmly sorted her papers and waited for the doorbell chime. Before rising from her desk, she pulled her strawberry hair in to a loose knot, reached into the second drawer, and palmed her pistol. As the sound of the doorbell echoed through her home, she quietly tucked the gun against her back.
She adjusted her glasses and straightened her clothing as she slowly made her way to the door. Whoever was on the other side could wait. The hinge creaked as she cautiously opened the door. Her father waited on the front porch. His back was turned, his hands clasped behind his back. She cleared her throat. He turned toward her abruptly, awkwardly. Seemingly startled.
As they made eye contact, he said simply, “Hello, daughter.”
Her pulse raced. Her ulcer reared its ugly head. She blinked once, then calmly closed the door in his face before wandering into the kitchen to pour a cup of chamomile tea.
Domhall, red-faced, joined her in the kitchen a minute later. He sat at the table. “Don't be like that, Quinny. I know it's been a while, but we need to talk.”
Quinn gritted her teeth at the sound of her childhood nickname. She stirred one scoop of raw sugar into her teacup and stared out the window, looked over the ocean below and ignored him. She refused to give him the satisfaction of throwing perfectly good tea in his face.
He fumbled with his iPod. “C’mon, kiddo. Can we put our issues aside for a moment? I’ve come a long way to speak with you,” he blustered. “Look at me for goodness sake.”
She cracked her knuckles and pushed up the sleeves of her sweater. The sounds of K'Naan's Hurt Me Tomorrow, pumped out of the headphones hanging around his neck. Her composure dipped. She hated his goddamn music collection. She picked up her chipped teacup and walked out of the kitchen.
She heard him swear under his breath before pushing the chair back from the table and scrambling to follow her.
“Child, stop this nonsense. I have to speak to you of Alexedria.”
She almost faltered. But, dammit, she refused to ask how he knew about Alex. I won’t be sucked into his game this time. Not again. She settled in a tan recliner in the sunroom. The walls were lined with built-in books shelves, filled with the works of the greats (and the not so greats). It’s where she went when she needed to decompress. From this room, she'd seen pods of killer whale’s swim directly below.
Her skin crawled when her father entered the room. He hadn't changed much over the years. She pitied the people that still believed in him. She knew better.
“I have nothing to say to you. My niece is none of your concern.”
“Your niece is my granddaughter and there are things you need to know.”
“Mother told me everything before she died. I've handled it all accordingly. You have no part of this. Your time is long over.” Her facade slipped momentarily as the sound of his music interrupted the silence. “Turn off that music.”
Domhall fumbled with his iPod. The song ended abruptly. The silence was deafening.
“Your mother’s death was very hard on me. I needed time alone.”
“Her death was hard on all of us. Not that it matters. You were never much of a father to me. We both know it. I stopped relying on you a long time ago. Say whatever it is you think you need to say and then get out.”
“Very well. It’s probably best to do it this way anyway.” He leaned forward in the chair. “Alexedria is no longer with Collum Thronus. She left him three days ago to join . . . her brother . . . and your sister.”
Quinn stared at the pink slippers on her feet. They were Alex’s. She’d started wearing them after Alex left, as a source of comfort, to remind herself that Alex was safe.
She stood, removed her glasses, placed them on the bamboo coffee table. When she finally turned, hatred lay on her flesh like a badge of honor. She reached in to her back pocket, raised her gun, and fired.
~ ~ ~
Quinn aimed straight for his head. A mortal wouldn't have stood a chance. At the last second Domhall raised his hand to deflect the bullet. It grazed his temple before embedding in the bookshelf behind him.
“What the hell,” he shouted. “That was a point—fucking—blank shot.”
“It's no more than you deserve, asshole.” She dropped the gun, exhausted, and sank in to her chair. “I can't believe you’d come into this home, my home, with such a shitty lie. Do you know how much it broke me when Gray was killed? Sometimes I think you’ve turned into a monster.”
He shuffled his feet and shoved his fingers through his hair. “I know you’ll never forgive me, kiddo. Nor do I think you should. But I’m not lying to you. Not in this. Gray is alive. Truth is, I hid her.”
Quinn searched the water below, looking for whales, for anything that would take her away.
Behind her, his breathing was heavy. He continued with the tale. “I took her to a safe house and nursed her back to health. Once she could speak, she told me her secrets. The man the dragon killed was her true husband. They’d been desperately in love for over a hundred years.”
His breath rattled on a long sigh. She steadied herself for what would come after that sigh.
“Alexedria was not the only child.”
Her heart ached, her throat ached. Every muscle, even her skin. For all his playing the angels and working the game, he hadn't even considered her. The one daughter he’d never loved quite enough. He hadn't cared what all this would do to her. Neither of her parents had. Yet she’d had been the one who’d bent and rebuilt, over and over. They'd left it to her to pick up the pieces without giving her the courtesy of explaining why.
The waves crashed against the shore. Quinn thought of how her life was like those waves. Always churning, hiding pathetic stories underneath the depths.
“I hate you. Do you know that? I hate you. Your games. The elder’s politics. You’ve destroyed lives. How could you not know about a husband before? How could you let them force her into that marriage? You could’ve stopped so many deaths.”
“I thought I was protecting her. She was too strong, too fast.” He hung his head. “I didn’t want her to turn out like me. But you can’t blame me for everything. I am not omnipotent, Quinn. Your sister was very good at covering her tracks.”
“Don’t remind me. She learned from the best.” She finally looked him in the eye. “Before you continue you need to assure me that Alex is safe, because at this point I don't care about the rest of you.”
“She is safe and in the arms of her mother.”
“Oh, the mother that abandoned her for the last twenty-five years? The mother that always played her own agenda? That one?”
“Don’t judge. There’s so much more to the tale than this.”
The bullet embedded in her copy of Tom Sawyer glared at her. “I’m listening, but don't think for a moment this will change how I feel about you.”
“I understand. If you change your mind, I hope you’ll allow me the chance to be your father again. But please let me finish. It’s a complicated story that alters all our futures.” When she would have interrupted, he plunged ahead saying, “Gray’s husband was a Parthen. And not just any Parthen. He was their king. Your sister, their queen.”
Rage simmered below the surface of her purple eyes. Wind whipped the trees outside her home. “Dreamwalkers.”
“Yes, Dreamwalkers. So, you see, the elders had every right to be concerned about her impetuousness.”
“You gave her to a monster.”
“We did. But I didn’t know. It’s no excuse. I trusted the wrong people. Was blinded by wanting to keep my daughter safe. Instead, I let the machinations of others destroy her, destroy our family. I’m trying to right that wrong. Your niece could be the greatest threat our enemies have ever known.”
He talked over her when she would have stopped him. Her reflection glowed in his eyes.
“Your sister told me of another, of a son, the new king, with all the same powers. I played a risky game but if the elders learned of the boy, it meant both their deaths. We killed his father. I couldn't rip his mother from him as well. But Alex would know no different. The only choice I had was to hide her. After all, no one knew about her lineage.”
“Why are you telling me all this now? I mean why not keep me in the dark?”
“Because I’ve kept everyone in the dark for too long and I need one person, at least, to know the truth.”
“I don't understand. It seems like I’m the only one left who doesn't know the truth.”
“I’m ashamed to say, that assumption is incorrect. I need you, Quinn. You are the best of us.”
Once more he paused. Quinn waited.
“After your sister told me her story, I realized she’d never be a part of our family again. She’d given her heart and soul to the Parthen. I believed then, as I believe now, I had only one choice.”
He choked on his final words. She relished in the sound of the agony in his voice.
“In a final act of betrayal, I erased your sister’s memories. I let her escape me. She raced back to her son with no knowledge she’d ever told me about him. I let her believe her daughter died. Ten years ago, when the child started exhibiting signs of abilities, I contacted Gray. Began to build a relationship again. Met her son.”
Quinn focused on the cold tea in her cup. Chamomile, she thought, meant to soothe her. He’d kept them all alive, but in doing so, ripped their family apart.
“And now that Alex has grown up and come into her power, you can’t keep the charade up any more.”
“That's right. I knew once Alex gained her power, her brother would find her. So, I found him first, made sure all the pieces were in place to protect my family.”
“And now you need me.”
“And now I need you. There will be a battle. I gave us an extra twenty-five years, but our enemies will figure it out soon. I can't keep the secret any longer. The boy, your nephew, grows stronger every day. I believe his need for revenge does too. I need you to find out things I can't. My insanity has driven me from many rooms. You have access. You have people who will listen to you, people who are not without their own power. If we play all our cards right, we might be able to stop a war and destroy those elders who destroyed us.”
“Who were they? Who chose the dragon for her husband?”
“Taurin and Ealian Gondien.”
“And my nephew’s name?”
“His name is Neeren. He is exceptional.”
She tasted the name in her mouth. “You think, Neeren is out for blood?”
“I do. He is a king with immense power, whose father was slain and sister stolen. He has the power to destroy them. Now that Alex is safely with him, he’ll take revenge. I’m certain of it.
Domhall paused. “Quinn, please don’t tell your sister or the boy that I deceived them.” He clarified, “He may not understand why I did what I did. I don’t wish to hurt him. You should meet him. He is your blood after all.”
“You trust him with Alex?”
“I trust that he loves her. Beyond that, is anyone’s guess. Gray would never challenge him. I don’t know if Alex is strong enough to stop him yet. In time, she could be. But she’ll feel for him, want to stand by his side. Thronus has fallen for Alex, so in the end, if it came down to it, I’m sure he would put down Neeren. In truth, he may be the only one strong enough to do so.”
“Put him down? What are you talking about? I thought you were going to protect him.”
“We’re going to help him keep his head and his throne. We’re not going to help him destroy our people.”
The weight of his confession sat heavy on her chest. She retreated into the kitchen to boil more hot water. The conversation was almost enough to drive her to drink. Trying to decipher Domhall’s mind was like trying to diffuse a ticking time bomb.
Everything in her home was ordered. Everything had its place. The space was open and clean, a typical west coast home. She found herself on the large deck off the kitchen, listening to the crash of the surf, hoping it would bring troubled emotions under control. The wind whipped her hair free of the elastic. She welcomed the breeze. Let it sooth her. Caress her. Care for her.
She weighed the options for a time. Finally accepted she’d do what he asked. Couldn't leave Alex to Domhall’s machinations. She’d grown to love that kid as though she were her own daughter.
She pushed up the sleeve of her top and looked at the almost invisible, flesh toned lines of her tattoo, thought back to her life growing up. She always felt like a muted version of her baby sister. So, she studied—everything. Excelled behind the scenes. She shoved her sleeve down as Domhall came up behind her on the deck.
“Will you help me protect them?” he asked.
She nodded. “What do you want me to do?”
“I need our family’s records. Everything. And I need the records of the council members, Taurin and Ealian. We must know their strengths and weaknesses. You’re the only one that can do this.”
“If they find out, they’ll kill me, and it’s a sure bet they’re keeping tabs on me right now.”
“I understand it’s a lot to ask. I need you. You are the only one that can do it. I’ll protect you as much as I can. As soon as you acquire the records, we’ll leave this place, and you’ll be with Alex again.”
“What about Lachon? Where does he fit in this?”
“I have plans for Lachon The Law.”
“You realize that Taurin and Ealian have probably altered all of their own records by now.”
Domhall smirked. “My dear girl, as if you would let that happen on your watch.”
~ ~ ~
The next morning Quinn woke up with a pounding headache. They’d made plans throughout the night. Devised a way to steal the records without the council knowing. Domhall had finally left her home around four in the morning with instructions to meet him at the airport in thirty-six hours, where he'd collect her and the information they needed. Then he’d take her to see Alex. She still wasn't sure she could trust him. He was, after all, a little bit insane.
She desperately wanted to talk to Collum Thronus to learn what he'd been told from her mother. What a fucking mess this all was. And it all started with the goddamn council. If they’d left it all alone, her family would be together. Alex would’ve never been hidden. Maybe her parents would’ve made it. Maybe she’d have met her nephew. Maybe she wouldn't have lived her entire life hating the elders, and her father, for signing her sister’s death warrant.
Quinn dressed in Levi’s that fit her like a glove. Felt like butter against her skin. She disliked the new brands. She threw on a honey colored cashmere sweater that molded to her soft curves and accentuated her hips. Then, on bare feet, she headed to the kitchen for coffee and Tylenol.
A windstorm raged inside her. An ordered and gentle life was what she’d always needed most. Yet now, once again, thanks to her family, she’d been thrown into chaos. She’d have to leave her home, who knew for how long. The thought made her physically ache. Her head pounded. She poured her coffee and threw back three extra strength Tylenol, hoping to ease the pain. As she waited at the table, she rubbed her fingers against the indent where Alex had dropped a concrete paper weight their first month together.
When she heard the car in her driveway, she rose from the table, fluffed her hair, pinched her cheeks, licked her lips, and once again grabbed her gun. She wouldn't miss this time if she had to fire.