Soul to Shepherd (14 page)

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to Quinn. I don’t want him to find out until I have a better handle on the situation. And he shouldn’t hear it from anyone but me. He won’t take this well.”

“No one in their right mind would,” Minerva replied solemnly.

By the time I arrived in North Carolina, Chase and Jaegar were already there, waiting for me.

“Chase bet me you’d be a no show, but I knew you’d come.”

“What did it cost you?” I asked Chase in a sharp, no nonsense tone.

“The profits off one vial of
your
blood.” He flashed me a depraved smile.

My stomach turned and I thought I was going to be sick.

“You were supposed to bring your friend,” Jaegar stated, looking around for Quinn.

“Your exact words were, ‘No blood from the boy, no deal.’ Here’s his blood.” I offered the blood-smeared dishtowel to Jaegar.

“And just how did you manage to get this? The aftermath of a little domestic squabble?” he quipped, smiling to himself as he took the rag.

“Do you have proof you can recover the blood?” I asked, cutting out the small talk.

“Yeah.” Jaegar opened up a brown paper sack and pulled out a torn scrap of parchment with red writing on it.

“What’s that supposed to be?” I asked, irritated.

“It’s part of the ritual—written in your friend’s blood.”

“How do you know it’s his blood?”

The Moon Mercenaries sniffed the parchment and then dishtowel. Each one repeated the process again and then both nodded their heads in agreement.

“Yup. It’s one and the same,” Chase said.

“That’s it?” I exclaimed in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me! I’m just supposed to rely blindly on your alleged keen sense of smell and hope you’re telling me the truth that both blood samples are the same? Nuh-uh.” I shook my head vigorously. “No way.”

“You want more objective proof? Fine,” Chase replied, annoyed. He pulled out a handheld monitor, a small vial of solution, and a couple of litmus strips. It resembled something a diabetic would use. He dropped some of the solution onto the bloody part of the dishtowel, pressed the litmus strip up against it, and stuck the strip into the machine. He pressed a couple of buttons and waited for a beeping noise before holding up the monitor for me to see a digital readout appear on the screen.

“See these three numbers here? And this scatter pattern?” Chase asked. I nodded. “If the blood on the parchment is his, then these should be identical after I process the next strip. Got it?” Again, I nodded.

This time Chase dropped some solution onto the parchment and pressed a clean litmus strip up against the treated paper. He repeated the process with the monitor and the results were identical.

“See?” Chase asked wryly.

“See what?” I challenged. “That you have some fancy smoke-and-mirrors trick to get me to give you some of my blood while you give me some bogus blood in return?”

“Look here,” Jaegar sneered. “On some level, you’re going to have to trust us or this just ain’t gonna happen. We may not be the most well regarded lot, but we’ve got principles, and we don’t cheat to get what we want.”

“We don’t have to—when we can just steal it,” Chase added, sneering.

“Besides,” Jaegar added, “Tartuf obviously trusts us enough to send you our way. You think you’re better than him? That his standards aren’t high and mighty enough for you?”

“No, of course not,” I replied. “But this isn’t just fun and games—it’s important. It’s literally a matter of life and death.”

“What isn’t?” Chase asked smugly. “Sweetheart, we put ourselves at risk every single day, so don’t preach to us about what is and isn’t important. We said we’d get you the blood, and we’ll deliver. Now, do we have a deal or not?”

“You agree to retrieve my friend’s blood and deliver it to me within two weeks time, and in return I agree to give you five vials of my blood—two now and three upon delivery.”

“Um, yeah, about the turnaround time—our source says it’ll take closer to three weeks.”

That was cutting it close—too close for my comfort. “I’ll tell you what. You deliver the blood to me no later than two weeks from tonight, and I’ll give you another vial of my blood upon receipt. So, two vials now and four for the quick turnaround. Otherwise, it’ll be three upon delivery.”

Jaegar smiled. “We’ll see what we can do. So we have a deal?”

I took a deep breath and exhaled. “We have a deal.”

Jaegar held out his hand, and I shook it.

“Yes!” Chase clapped his hands and rubbed them together greedily. “Let’s get this party started!”

Extracting my blood turned out to be trickier than I thought it’d be—although no more painful than getting my blood drawn when I was human. The difficult part was how my body instantly began to heal itself without any conscious effort on my part. And if I did begin to think about the wound, or even look at the syringe in my arm, my body kicked the needle right out of my “vein,” forcing us to start all over. By the time Jaegar was finished filling two vials with my blood, he looked utterly exhausted.

“I’m not looking forward to collecting the rest,” he commented.

“Yeah, it’d be a lot easier if she were unconscious—or dead,” Chase added, shrugging as if he were actually contemplating that scenario.

“I can assure you that you won’t have a chance in hell of getting any more of my blood if you don’t deliver on your end,” I warned, scowling at him.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Chase replied. “We’ll deliver. We’ll call you when we’ve got the goods.”

“Two weeks for an extra vial!” I called out as Chase slung his bag over his shoulder. I sat down on a rock and watched the two walk towards their motorcycles and then ride off.

“What have you gotten yourself into, Evie?” I asked myself, sighing heavily. I looked at my watch; I’d been gone for an hour and a half. Quinn was probably out of his mind with worry. I stood up and was hit with a minor dizzy spell, nothing that would ordinarily cause me any concern—if it weren’t for the fact that I’d just let a Moon Mercenary stick a needle in my arm and withdraw the very essence of my immortality—well, a little of it anyway.

The spell passed as quickly as it came. I looked around me to make sure no one else was on the beach, and teleported myself back to the Harrisons’ home.

“Quinn?” I called out when I arrived at his parents’ house. He didn’t respond, and all the lights in the house were out. I checked my watch. It was too early for Quinn to be sleeping. “Dylan? Minerva?” I walked into the kitchen and saw a note on the far edge of the counter. It was from Dylan—they were at the Falls. Images of Quinn being in a close call and escaping in the nick of time filled my mind. I shuddered and teleported myself to the portal immediately.

“Is everything all right?” I asked when I arrived. I took a moment to catch my breath.

“Yes,” Dylan answered. “Is everything all right with you?” He looked worried.

I was still panting. White noise began to buzz in my ears and my eyes began to play tricks on me, converting the scene in front of me into what looked like a film negative. I shut my eyes and took a deep breath, letting the air fill my lungs, and exhaled slowly. When I opened my eyes again, everything had returned to normal. “That was weird,” I mumbled to myself.

“What was weird?” Minerva asked in concern. Instantly, she was beside me, leading me by the arm over to a rock to sit on.

“I just had a little dizzy spell that’s all.”

“What do you mean ‘a little dizzy spell’?” Quinn asked as he crouched down in front of me and took my hands in his. “Evie, you’re trembling—and you’re freezing.” He rubbed his hands along my arms to warm me up but stopped when he saw a dried drop of blood on the inside of my forearm.

“Whose blood is that?” Quinn demanded.

“Quinn—” I began.

“Whose is it?” he demanded again more harshly.

It was time. There was no way of keeping this a secret. I glanced over at Minerva, who flashed me another sympathetic look.

“
I’m sorry I can’t help you out of this one,”
she told me telepathically.

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, too ashamed to look at Quinn. “Mine,” I whispered.

“What did those bastards do to you?” Dylan asked through gritted teeth as he grabbed my arm and inspected it. “What is that?” he asked, feeling the last puncture mark Jaegar had made on my forearm; the rest had already disappeared. Only someone with our acute senses could’ve detected the nearly healed pinprick.

“
Is that a needle mark?”
he asked me telepathically.

I opened my eyes and looked up at Dylan.
“Yes.”

“What did you do, K.C.?” Dylan asked me aloud.

I closed my eyes once more in an effort to fight back the tears. When I opened them again, I looked directly into Quinn’s dark, stormy blue eyes. He was worried, confused, and angry—and rightfully so. The guilt in my eyes told him I’d done something foolish and risky—something he no doubt would’ve disapproved of strongly.

“I made a trade,” I said, still locking my eyes onto Quinn’s. “My blood for yours.”

“Why would you do that?” Quinn asked me, his eyes looking more and more tortured by the second.

“Because that’s the price for having them steal your blood back.”

“Did you get it at least?” Dylan’s Shepherd instincts were kicking in.

“No. Not yet.”

“Evie, I told you, I don’t care about my blood. I told you to forget about it. So what if we don’t get it back—”

“I can’t forget about it,” I whispered. Tears welled up in my eyes. “I can’t.”

“Why? What’s the worst thing that can happen if we don’t get it back?” The color began to drain from Quinn’s face as my tears began to stream uncontrollably down my face. “Evie, how bad is it?”

“Bad.” I looked deep into his eyes.
Here goes nothing.
“Maybe we should go talk in private.”

“Tell me—
now
,” he demanded.

“Holy shit!” Dylan exclaimed in shock as he looked at Minerva. “They want to
convert
him?!? Into one of them?!?” he blurted out.

“Dylan!” Minerva gasped in horror.

“Son of a bitch.” Dylan looked at me in alarm. “Did I just say that out loud?”

Fury streaked through me as I stared down Minerva and Dylan. The two of them had obviously been having their own private telepathic conversation, one in which she told him everything she knew, right in front of me—in front of
Quinn
—and Dylan blurted it out before I could explain it to Quinn, before I could soften the blow.

I looked at Quinn. He looked utterly dumbfounded, staring directly at me while holding his breath.

“Quinn,” I stood up and took a step closer to him.

“Don’t.” His voice was filled with such contempt that I froze instantly. “How long have you known about this?”

“I found out when I was reassigned to you,” I answered.

“And you didn’t think it was important to tell me that a bunch of demons want to turn me into one of them?” He was shaking with anger.

“No—of course I did!” I tried to explain. “I—I just wanted to have a game plan in place so that when I did tell you, you’d know we were on top of it—you’d know you had nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to worry about?” he hissed. “That’s funny. My best friend, my fiancée, the one person I trust more than anyone in the world, would rather go behind my back and cut a deal with some—some blood-thirsty
mercenaries
than tell me the truth about what’s happening in my own damn life!” he shouted.

“It wasn’t like that,” I protested weakly. I’d never seen Quinn this angry.

“When?”

“When what?” I asked warily, still reeling from his accusations.

“When are they planning to convert me?” he asked with a stone-cold face.

Oh shit!
This was about to get a whole lot worse—like, cliff-diving-without-a-parachute worse.

Quinn turned to Dylan when I didn’t answer. “You’re my Shepherd.
You
tell me when.”

Dylan looked at me and shook his head.
“K.C., he has a right to know,”
he said telepathically.

“
Not like this,”
I half-warned, half-pleaded.

“July eighteenth,” Dylan announced quietly. Quinn hunched over as if he’d just been kicked in the gut, knocking the wind clear out of him.

“Quinn—”

“When were you planning on telling me, Evie?” he barely managed.

“Tonight—
now
,” I sputtered.

“Yeah, right,” he spat. “You told me I’d be the first one to know what the deal was.” He nodded once in Dylan’s direction. “But you obviously lied about that, so why should I believe you now? In fact, why should I believe you were going to tell me anything at all?”

“Because I’m telling you the truth!” I exclaimed in my defense. “And I didn’t tell Dylan. Minerva figured it out and—” I took a step towards him, and he immediately took a step back.

“And what?” he barked. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and ran his hands through his hair. “You know what, Evie? You
can
lie. In fact, you’re right up there with the best. You just use silence as your weapon of choice instead of words.” The disdain in his voice, in his eyes, sliced through me like a knife.

“Quinn—”

He threw his arms up defensively. “I can’t do this right now. I can’t even look at you.” He turned to Dylan. “Get me out of here
now
.”

“Yeah, sure thing,” Dylan agreed. He looked at me apologetically as he walked over to Quinn and took hold of his aura.

“Don’t worry, K.C. I’ll take care of him. I’ll talk to him,”
Dylan said telepathically.

“You’d better,”
I threatened.

When the two of them left, it was like they took all of the oxygen in the air with them. I may not have needed to breathe physically, but I needed to emotionally, and when I inhaled, my lungs refused to inflate, leaving my chest burning.

“Evie, I’m so sorry,” Minerva said apologetically from behind me. “I had no idea Dylan would react that way when I told him. Honestly.”

“I don’t trust you,” I snarled, keeping my back to her. “And I
really
don’t want to hear anything you have to say. In fact, I don’t want anything to do with you right now.” Before she could say another word, I phased out of view and left the portal.

I teleported myself to Wa’ianapanapa beach. I needed to get away and think. The moonlight basking on the surface of the Pacific made the water look so inviting that I stripped off my clothes and dove in, swimming as fast and as far as I could. I stopped a half-mile from shore, treading water in the open, quiet sea. It was so peaceful—nothing around me but the sounds of the lapping water and the ocean breeze. Maybe it was because everything here seemed to coexist in perfect harmony while everything around
me
seemed to exist in a state of mayhem, but I started to bawl hysterically.

I really thought I’d done the right thing by keeping the conversion a secret from Quinn until I had a plan to keep him safe. I did it out of love for him. I wanted to protect him from having to face something so dark and ugly and terrifying without a silver lining. But, clearly, I’d been wrong. And now, I didn’t know how to make things better—I didn’t know if I could make things better. I didn’t know if he’d ever forgive me.

I pictured how furious he’d been with me. I heard the anger and disappointment in his voice echo in my head when he’d called me a liar, and I cried even harder.

Just when I thought I’d run out of tears, I heard a series of clicks and squeaks. I turned to my right and saw a dorsal fin glide up out of the water, followed by the curved spine and tail of a spinner dolphin. And then I saw another. I ducked under the water to see a small pod of five dolphins around me: four adults and one younger calf. They swam around me, looking at me curiously. The smaller one tried to get a closer look but was headed off by one of the larger dolphins. A series of clicks and squeaks occurred, and the small dolphin retreated behind another adult farther away. Still intent on getting its way, the young dolphin circled around, found another opening, and beelined it towards me again. I held out my hand to the determined little dolphin, but a different adult interceded, forcing the little one to veer off to the left sharply, never making contact with me. I heard another series of clicks and squeaks and the entire pod began to swim away. When they were about twenty-five yards off, the little dolphin suddenly broke away from its guardians and swam as fast as it could towards me. I held out my hand and rubbed its belly as it flew by me. It seemed to squeal with joy at its accomplishment as it breached the surface and spun in the air, only to flop back down into the water and quickly swim back to its pod.

I heard more clicks and squeaks. I could only imagine the earful the young dolphin was getting from the rest of the pod, but it didn’t seem to mind the chastising. In fact, it was swimming around playfully. It’s like it had acted to prove to its protective family that it could handle taking some risks—that it was ready to make some of its own decisions, take responsibility for its actions, and learn from its mistakes.

“I think I get it,” I said aloud.

By the time I got back to the Harrisons, it was just after midnight. Every room in the house was dark except for the kitchen. I walked in to find Minerva filling a glass with water from the kitchen sink. Before I could protest her being there, she walked over to the breakfast nook where Dylan sat next to Quinn, who’d somehow wound up with a black eye and a split lip and looked pretty drunk.

“Here, drink this,” Minerva instructed Quinn as she placed the glass of water in front of him. Quinn just grunted and dropped his head onto the table.

“What the hell happened to him?” I demanded. “Dylan, you said you’d take care of him!”

“College Boy just needed to blow off a little steam, that’s all,” Dylan replied.

“How? By drinking himself into a stupor and getting into a fight?” I nearly shouted.

“Well, the guy
did
just find out that a bunch of bastard demons want him to join their ranks,” Dylan countered.

“And whose fault was that?” I snapped angrily.

“Look, I’m sorry he found out the way he did.
You
should’ve been the one to tell him, but you didn’t. And what’s worse is that you didn’t tell
me
, his Shepherd. How did you expect me to protect him if I didn’t know what in the hell I was protecting him from?”

“For the last time, I was going to tell him—and you.”

“You waited too long,” Quinn stated, slurring slightly.

“Hey, you gave me three days, remember?” I stated, thoroughly annoyed at the scene before me. “And I wanted to have the game plan ready for how we were going to stop this from happening to you.”

“Well?” Quinn asked, lifting his head up in my general direction.

“Well, what?”

“Do you have one—a game plan?” He was trying to focus on me.

“Yeah. At least I think so,” I replied.

“Then you have no excuse for not telling me the truth sooner.”

“It’s a work in progress. I wanted to fit more of the pieces together first.” I had no idea why I was even trying to justify myself to Quinn while he was in this state; he probably wouldn’t remember a word of our conversation in the morning.

“And if your plan didn’t work, what then? I’d be dead—or a demon, which, I guess is a lot like being dead—only a hell of a lot worse, right?” Quinn closed his eyes and quickly shook his head as if to help him focus his thoughts. “Either way,” he continued, waving his finger sloppily at me. “You had no right to keep this from me.” He paused to focus on my face. His eyes looked so pained. “You. Why? You’re the one person I trust—
trusted
—unconditionally with my heart, my soul—my
life.
And you let me down.”

His words were like sucker punches to my chest—only they weren’t cheap shots. I deserved each and every one.

“You’re right—I should’ve told you sooner. And I’m sorry. I thought I was protecting you. But obviously that wasn’t the case.” I sighed heavily as I looked at the mess he’d turned into—
we’d
turned into—in a matter of hours.

“You gave up the right to protect me the second you stopped wanted to feel my heart beating,” he said bitterly.