Quinn's Undying Rose
Page 54Quinn yanked himself free of Wallace’s embrace. “Nobody can take Rose’s place!”
“You love her so much?”
“More than my life.” Without her he felt nothing. Only pain and coldness.
“We’ve all said that when we were young. We all had a woman who we thought was above all others. Special.” His eyes suddenly drifted away as if remembering somebody. “So beautiful that it aches to even think of her. And to see her wither away. To see her grow old. Such pain. Yet over time, it all fades. We continue living. We survive. Pain is only temporary. We are powerful. No heartache shall ever bring us down.”
“Powerful? To do what? To live in the dark? Without love, without sunshine?”
Wallace narrowed his eyes. “You want love? Buy it from a whore. That’s the kind of love you need. It’ll make you forget.”
“You think you can throw whores at me so I’ll forget Rose? How dare you! You don’t understand me at all! You want to help me? Then help me! Help me make her love me again. Or get out of my sight!”
Wallace gave him a dark look. For a long moment, he simply stood there like a statue.
Then he turned and left.
It was the last time he ever saw his sire. He had clearly taken his words to heart and disappeared. Just when he’d needed guidance the most. He had nobody in his life now. To fill the emptiness in his heart, he’d done exactly what Wallace had advised in his anger: he’d purchased love from whores.
Quinn suddenly shivered as he turned the last corner to enter the block on which the B&B stood. For two hundred years he’d tried to forget Rose by drowning out any feelings in senseless debauchery. And for two hundred years he’d failed. He wanted Rose back, not just in his bed—that was the easy part—he wanted to be back in her heart.
Determined to try anything in his power, he straightened his shoulders and walked up the short path to the entrance door, when he froze, an offending scent penetrating his nostrils: spray paint.
There, on the white front door of the B&B, somebody had spray-painted a message. Quinn’s gut clenched. He’d suspected that Rose hadn’t told him the truth about why Keegan wanted to harm Blake, but to have it confirmed tore at him nevertheless.
Give me back what you’ve stolen.
20
Quinn glared at her and pointed to the door, which he’d slammed shut only a second earlier.
Instinctively, Rose took a step back, however, there was no escaping him or his anger. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Keegan knew where she was, where Blake was. Had she led him here despite the precautions she’d taken?
“Oh, God, he’s found us.”
“He was bound to sooner or later. Unfortunately it was a little sooner than I anticipated. But that’s beside the point. What did you steal from him, Rose? What is it? Money?”
She shook her head. “I have plenty of money.”
Nervously, she shifted from one foot to the other. What would she tell him? Could she trust him with the truth? Or would he too want the power that came with the item she’d taken from Keegan?
When he gripped her shoulders with both hands and pressed her against the wall, the little wheels in her head started spinning out of control.
Her breath hitched, her heartbeat escalating at the same time. She sensed the vein at her neck pulsating violently, noticed how his look slid there for a second before drawing back to glare at her eyes. She had no choice, she knew that now. Only the truth would pacify him.
“Keegan killed another vampire and took a flash drive from him. I stole it from Keegan.” The words tumbled from her lips like marbles from a turned over jar.
“What’s on the flash drive?”
For an instant, she squeezed her eyes shut, praying that Quinn was still the same honorable man he’d been when human.
“It contains a list of names and addresses . . .” She swallowed hard then looked straight at him. “ . . . of all vampires in North America and a large number of those abroad.”
With a surprised gasp, Quinn released her, stepping back as if he’d touched silver and felt the stinging burn of it.