Hidden Embers (22 page)

“I wasn’t trying to kill myself, you moron.” Quinn quickly slipped into the clothes before heading back down the long and twisting passageway toward the refrigerator he kept in the front chamber. He didn’t light the way—let Logan do it himself or chance running into the sharp stalactites and stalagmites that protruded from the ceilings and floors.

Once Quinn reached the front chamber that served as his living room, he grabbed a couple of beers from the cavern he had used magic to transform into a makeshift refrigerator and tossed one to Logan before settling himself on the long couch that stretched the length of his living room. Sometimes being able to wield dragon magic really paid off—especially if it meant you had a cold beer waiting for you in the middle of a cave.

“Oh, really? Then what were you doing? Practicing for your next stint at the circus?” Logan eased onto a large gypsum formation that looked like a giant balloon chair and stretched his long legs out in front of him.

Quinn flipped him off. As he did, he remembered Jasmine doing the same to him. What was she doing now? Was she in the shower? Climbing into bed? For a moment, he tormented himself with images of his mate in a skimpy pair of pajamas.

He felt himself grow hard and forced himself to banish the picture. Focusing on Logan again, he said, “I was just letting off some steam. Things have been tense around here for a while.”

“There are better ways to do that than trying to break every bone in your body,” Logan answered with a really big grin.

Quinn snorted as he kicked his feet up on the stalagmite formation that doubled as his coffee table. He wondered again about Jasmine.

“I could set you up on a date, you know. There are a lot of women—”

“I don’t need your pimping services.”

“Not
that
kind of date. But now that you mention it…” Logan looked thoughtful. “When
was
the last time you got laid?”

“About an hour and a half ago, thanks,” Quinn answered, and he had the satisfaction of watching Logan choke on his beer.

“Well, hell. Maybe I should be asking you to set me up.”

“Trust me. You couldn’t handle her.”

“Oh, yeah?” Logan drained his beer, then went for another one. “Now I’m intrigued. Spill.”

Quinn pretended to consider it for a second, then said, “No.”

“Now that’s not right—you gotta let a guy live vicariously.”

“Not after he knocked me out of the sky at two hundred miles an hour.”

“God, you’ve gotten wimpy. It was more like a hundred and seventy-five. And I was trying to save your life.”

“So you said. But since I wasn’t trying to die…”

“Well, I didn’t know you’d just gotten laid. If I had, I would have left you alone. No guy kills himself after good sex.” He paused. “It was good sex, right?”

“That seems like faulty logic,” Quinn commented, ignoring Logan’s question. “What if I’d just wanted one last before-I-die lay?”

“Did you?”

“No.”

“Well, then, the logic stands. And don’t think I haven’t realized that you dodged my question.”

“Wow, nothing gets by you.”

It was Logan’s turn to flip him the bird. “Well, if you won’t give me any of the details—which really sucks, by the way—can you at least tell me who it is?”

“What is this, junior high? Make me up a list and I’ll put an X in the box next to the right name.”

Logan laughed, but let the matter drop. They sat in companionable silence for a while, drinking their beers and thinking.

Quinn’s mind wandered to Jasmine and then to his own parents’ mating. Theirs had been a powerful connection—instantaneous, his father once told him. Much like Quinn’s and Jasmine’s. And like Jasmine, his mother had been a strong, powerful woman. It was her strength that had gotten her killed, leaving his father alone—and lonely—for much of his adult life.

Was he destined to repeat his father’s mistakes? Waiting at home, healing, while Jasmine was out fighting battles she couldn’t hope to win? He didn’t want it to be like that, couldn’t stand the thought of following in his parents’ footsteps, but he was realistic enough to know that that was probably exactly where he was headed.

He was so lost in thought, so worried about what the future might bring for him and Jasmine, that he was barely paying attention when Logan asked, “So, if you can’t tell me who she is, at least tell me what she’s like.”

“Complicated.” The word popped out of his mouth before he even realized he was going to say it. “She’s very complicated.”

“Come on, really? How complicated could she possibly be?”

“You have no idea.” And in what was turning out to be his modus operandi these days—offering way too much information without thinking it through—Quinn lifted up his sleeve and showed Logan his recently altered tattoo.

It took the other man a few seconds to understand what he was seeing, but when he did, his mouth dropped wide-open. “Jesus Christ! Is that what I think it is?”

Quinn didn’t bother to answer, just let the arm of his shirt fall back where it belonged.

“You’re mated, man? You’re fucking mated, and you didn’t bother to tell any of us?”

“Yeah, well, it was a sudden kind of thing.”

“How sudden could it be?
You’re mated
.”

“You can stop saying that.”

“I could, but then I’d lose any chance of wrapping my head around it. How could you be
mated
? Who is she—and don’t even bother with any of that keeping quiet bullshit. This is your mate.
Your mate
. Congratulations, by the way. That’s awesome.”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Quinn snapped. “I’m still getting used to the idea.”

“You keep saying that, but I don’t get it. You have to have been seeing her for a while—the mating thing doesn’t just occur randomly. Both of you have to decide—”

“That’s not what happened.”

Logan shifted forward in his chair, staring at him. “What does that mean?”

“It means the band just showed up, the morning after we first had sex. I don’t know how or why—it just did.”

“And what does she say about it?”

“She’s not dragon—she doesn’t know what it means. Besides, she was long gone before the thing even appeared.”

“Well, shit.” Logan shook his head, as if trying to clear it. “You mean, she’s gone?” The look of horror on his face underscored just how serious the situation was. Like Quinn needed someone to point it out for him. If Jasmine left him, he’d never find another mate, not while she was alive. He’d never be able to have children, never be able to form any kind of connection to another woman beyond the most basic, sexual one.

Quinn had never been that guy. It wasn’t like he’d spent his life searching for his mate the way Dylan had, but that didn’t mean he liked one-night stands. He liked being in a relationship, liked caring about the woman he was sleeping with. If his mate rejected him, he’d never have that again.

Not that he was exactly thinking about sleeping with another woman right then. Shit, all he could think about was Jasmine and how it felt to be inside her. How it felt to be held and kissed and touched by her. No, he wasn’t interested in another woman and doubted that he ever would be. Much as it was a huge pain in the ass, the universe had obviously known exactly what it was doing when it had paired the two of them up. At least on his side.

“Wait a minute. You said you were with her tonight. How could she—”

“It’s Jasmine Kane.”

“Who?”

“
Jasmine Kane
. The hematologist Phoebe called in.”

“The blond hottie from the lab this afternoon?” Logan’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “You’re mated to
her
?”

“Yes.”

“When did this happen?” Logan sputtered.

“I met her in a bar the night after Michael died. I didn’t know who she was.”

“And she’s human?”

“Yep.”

“Are you sure? She took the dragon thing pretty well.”

“I’m sure.”

“Huh.” Logan stared at him for a second before adding, “And here I thought you were depressed enough to kill yourself.”

“Depending on how this thing ends up, don’t rule it out.”

“I guess.” Logan rolled his empty beer bottle between his hands. “Fate can be a real bitch.”

Quinn lifted his beer to his mouth, drained it. “
You
have no fucking idea.”

“So what are you going to do about it?”

He shook his head. “
I
have no fucking idea.”

“Well, as long as you have a plan.”

“Damn straight.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

H
e’d fucked the bitch. Right there in the laboratory like an animal in heat. It was disgusting. She’d been in the room right next to Quinn’s lab and had heard the whole thing. It had taken every ounce of self-control she had not to “accidentally” bust in on them.

Shaking her head, she turned up her iPod and tried to lose herself in the music as she walked to work. It was getting harder and harder to do the deeper she got into this thing.

Oh, she wasn’t afraid of being caught—she was too good for that and the rest of them were too stupid. Even Quinn and Dylan didn’t have a clue what it was she was doing, and they were two of the smartest dragons the clan had. As long as she could keep them in the dark, she was home free.

She slammed open the door to the Dragonstar clinic and every head in the place came up. One quick glance at her and they went back to their business. Idiots. Sheep. They deserved what they were getting.

Rage ate at her, making her movements jerky and uncoordinated. She told herself to calm down—the last thing she needed was for someone to remember her acting oddly. Not that it really mattered, she was totally covered. Totally safe. But still, it never hurt to be on the cautious side.

She walked to the back room, where she stored her purse in her locker before heading up to the front to sign in. The head nurse wanted to chat a little, and though it was the absolute last thing she felt like doing, she stayed and spoke with her. After all, she still had a few minutes before she officially had to clock in, and it would look odd if she was the first one at her station, ready to go. She’d never been that employee.

Finally, the clock wound down and she wandered up the hall to where she would spend the next nine hours, minus two coffee breaks and a lunch break. Lucky, lucky her.

Except she was lucky, wasn’t she? If she didn’t have this job and the ability to float between the clinic and the lab, how many opportunities would have passed her by? And if she hadn’t had those opportunities, then Brock would have gotten rid of her a long time before. So maybe she’d lay off the complaining—at least until Brock made good on his promise to get her out of here.

It had been days since Michael had died and Quinn still wasn’t showing any signs of being sick. Sure, he had all but shut down emotionally—which was a plus, as she figured it was only a matter of time before he offed himself.

But Brock didn’t want to wait for him to commit suicide, especially not if it meant his little virus wasn’t as foolproof as he’d thought. These new batches were supposed to mutate—infect one person and then anyone with similar DNA would be susceptible to the virus. It was a genius idea, especially considering how hard it was to get close to Dylan and his sentries. They were too strong, too aware, too fucking paranoid to ever let someone sneak up on them and inject them. But most of their family members weren’t.

Look at Marta, Dylan’s sister. It had been pathetically easy to inject her and the virus had done its job very nicely. Her funeral pyre had barely been cold when her daughter got sick. Sure, Dylan hadn’t contracted the virus as they’d planned, which was a total bummer. Brock had been furious; he had taken the virus back to his scientists so they could be certain all the kinks had been worked out.

But they’d been wrong, obviously, as Quinn was showing no signs of getting ill. It was freaking out Brock—and his little scientist dudes. Making them think that they weren’t as smart as they thought they were, that the virus wasn’t as all-consuming as it should be. She was determined to prove that the plan would still work, and she knew just how to do it.

Once at her station, she triple checked the list of appointments for the day, as if she didn’t have the damn register memorized. But still, better to be safe…and yes, there he was, fourth on the list. Brian Alexander. Ten a.m. She could hardly wait.

The first hour passed a little slowly, though she knew it would pick up later in the day. She rushed through the first few people who ended up in her chair, wanting to make sure she was free when Brian walked in. If she wasn’t, if she missed this opportunity, it would be another two weeks before she got the chance again. This would make Brock very unhappy, and after his last temper tantrum, she was going to try very, very hard to keep him in a good mood.

She was just finishing up with her latest walk-in when Brian showed up, all smiles and upbeat attitude. His brown hair was a little long, a little shaggy, and his blue eyes gleamed brightly, despite the fact that he’d been sick for the last year with one of the few diseases natural to dragon shifters. It was in remission, but the clan doctors had him coming in for twice-monthly blood tests.

“Hey you,” she said with a grin, as she finished the paperwork on the previous patient. “Come on over here and tell me what you’ve been up to these last couple of weeks.”

He smiled at her. “Not a lot. Just finishing up a big project at work and hanging with the family. The baby took her first steps the other day—do you want to see her latest picture?”

No. She recoiled at the thought, horrified at the idea of looking into his daughter’s face. Brian didn’t notice her reaction; he pulled out his wallet and opened it up to a photo of a beautiful baby with big blue eyes, a wide, toothless smile and chubby pink cheeks. Her golden blond ringlets were pulled up with heart-shaped barrettes, and she was wearing a turquoise-and-yellow sun suit that left her plump legs bare.

“Isn’t she a beauty?” he asked.

“Definitely,” she answered, trying to pull her gaze away from the picture. But she was spellbound by it, hypnotized by the sight of the pretty little girl on wobbly legs. “How old is she now?” The question spilled from her before she could stop it.