Soul to Shepherd (21 page)

“I—we didn’t do anything to save each other. At least, I don’t think we did.”

“Evie, a Servant’s bite isn’t just about the electrocution. They inject a nasty venom, too, which is why the bites don’t heal on their own. Even worse, when they bite—it’s like the equivalent of what I can do through touch. When they bite an immortal, they steal its life force, only they can’t use it or transfer it like I can—they just take it. One bite can drain an immortal completely in less than a minute.” She paused, as if to consider something. “I don’t know how you two did it. Maybe your connection with Quinn is already stronger than you think, strong enough to have prevented the Servants from completely draining your life force—and Quinn’s.”

“How do you know so much about all of this?” I asked.

Minerva sighed heavily, as if reluctant to answer my question.

“Have you ever been bitten?” I asked. Maybe I had more in common with her than I thought. I flashed back to Tartuf showing me the scar on his leg. Maybe we all belonged to a small, unfortunate group of survivors—the worst kind of club of which to become an honorary member.

“No. My father … he—he was a demon,” Minerva said hesitantly.

“What?” I barely whispered, not wanting to trust my ears.

“My mother was a human, and my father was a demon.”

I didn’t know what to say. My head began to spin. That all too familiar feeling of alarm mixed with nausea slammed into me, making the monster in the pit of my stomach howl—warning me that something was very wrong. I zeroed in on Quinn; he looked so vulnerably
human
out there in the water. Minerva could get to Quinn just as quickly as either Dylan or I could—not to mention any other creatures lurking in the ravines directly behind us … or in the lake.

Completely panic-stricken, I flew to Quinn’s side and teleported him to the Falls in less than a blink of an eye.

“What the hell, Evie?” Quinn asked in shock when we landed roughly on the grass. He bent over trying to catch his breath and fight off the nausea of the unexpected trip.

“I—I thought you might be in danger.”

“From who?”

“Minerva. Or something else out there—I don’t know, maybe something working with her.” I stood up and began pacing. I mentally retraced every conversation I’d ever had with her. I tried to remember her every motion—every smile, every look she’d ever given me. Absolutely nothing had tipped me off. But her father was a
demon
. For all I knew, he was a Servant! After all, she had their powers. What if she was working for them—spying on us, finding out about our plan to steal back the blood and hide Quinn? What if they knew it all?

Crap! I should’ve known better. I should’ve trusted my instincts in the beginning and refused her help.
Oh, I am
so
going to kill Dylan.

“Evie, what are you talking about? Minerva was my Watcher. Why would she want to hurt me?” Quinn asked, walking towards the cave.

“Where are you going?” I demanded anxiously.

“Um, I’m standing here buck naked.” He looked at me like I was losing my mind.

“You don’t understand.” I followed him into the cave, not wanting to let him out of my sight for even a split second. “She told me the Servants drain immortals’ powers—
just like she can
.”

“So that automatically makes her one of them?” he asked as he pulled on a pair of jeans that had been tossed onto the unmade bed.

“Quinn, her father was a demon.”

He stopped short of putting on his t-shirt and looked at me. “Really?”

“Yes, she told me right after she explained that Servants steal immortals’ life source and energy through biting just like she does through touch. And then I saw you out in the water and I got scared, so I brought you here.”

“Evie.” Quinn threw on his t-shirt and walked over to me. “Don’t you think Dylan would know if he was dating a demon? Or if she was hanging out with them?”

“I can assure you neither is the case,” I heard Dylan say as he materialized in front of us.

“Did you know?” I asked through gritted teeth.

He nodded.

“How can you be with her? How can you trust she’s not working with the Servants or some other clan?” I asked coldly.

“Because I love her.”

“Love is not an excuse to act recklessly and risk someone else’s life,” I accused.

“C’mon, Evie, you don’t really think that what’s going on here,” Quinn called me out.

“Are you taking his side on this?”

“I just think we should hear what he has to say.”

“Involving Minerva is not risking Quinn’s life—it’s helping us save it,” Dylan asserted.

“You should have told me what she is,” I chastised Dylan.

“I did—she’s a Watcher. Besides, I told you she has her secrets.”

“
Secrets?
As in there are
more?
What else could she possibly be hiding?”

“I think it’s best if she tells you herself,” Dylan replied. “But it’s not what you think, K.C. She can help us. She
wants
to help. Please just hear her out—for me,” he implored. “Please.”

I looked at Quinn, who was urging me with his eyes to agree to listen to Minerva.

“Fine.” I sighed heavily.

“Okay, then,” Dylan said optimistically. “She’s back at Quinn’s, but she’ll only tell you the rest up here, where it’s private.”

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “You trust her?” I asked Dylan. “You
really
trust her?”

“With all that I am.” He looked and sounded like a lovesick puppy, which was a huge part of the problem.

“Go. Tell her to come up here. Then you bring Quinn down to his house and you stay by his side
every second
I’m not there. And don’t even
think
about bringing him back here until
I
say it’s okay, understood?”

“Understood,” Dylan answered as he phased out of view. Within seconds, he was back with Minerva. I looked at Quinn and worry filled me instantly.

“I’ll be fine, Evie. Talk to her. Figure this all out.”

I nodded. Quinn kissed me and then he and Dylan left Minerva and me alone. Several scenarios were running through my head, all of which had one of two endings—me attacking her or she, me.

“I know what you must think of me right now,” Minerva said, standing less than ten feet away. “Or suspect in any case. But, I can assure you I’m on the same side as you, and I always have been. I didn’t get a chance to tell you my whole story before you jumped ship.” She chuckled nervously.

“I thought you being a half-demon and having demonic powers were pretty compelling reasons for me to leave,” I said coldly.

“Evie, I am not a threat to either Quinn or you. If you let me explain, you’ll see that.”

“I have one question first.”

Minerva took a deep breath. “Okay.”

“How many ‘Good Samaritans’ like us have your abilities?”

“None that I’m aware of.”

“And how many demons?”

“How many of us have
your
abilities?” she asked, turning my question around on me.

“You’re evading my question.”

“Fair enough. And I will gladly answer it as long as you hear me out first.”

“Fine. You have exactly two minutes.”

“Okay, then I’ll be brief. I have no memory of my life, but because of who I am—of what my father was—I was told certain information about my family when I became a Watcher. Apparently, my father was a Death Dealer. He was supposed to collect my mother’s soul, but after one look at her, he couldn’t. He was infatuated with her immediately. She didn’t know what he was, of course—he only ever appeared in his human form around her. Then, one night he seduced her, and I was the result. They ran off together, all the while my mother believing they had to leave because I was illegitimate. But the truth was that my father went into hiding with her.

“Shortly after I was born, however, my father’s clan found them. When it was discovered that my father had not only failed to kill my mother and take her soul, but that he’d also fathered a child with her, the Death Dealers murdered my mother and destroyed my father.”

“What happened to you? How did you survive?” I asked, enthralled by her story despite myself.

“I don’t know. I can’t remember.”

“When did you develop your ability to drain power from other immortals?”

“I don’t know that either. I have no idea if I had this ability as a human. But I do know that I’m not a Servant. And I promise you I have no allegiance to any demons. And, in answer to your second question, several other types of demons possess my power—including Death Dealers.”

“Great,” I said sarcastically. “So, how did you become a Watcher if half of you is demon? Doesn’t that violate every rule in the book?”

“Just because I’m half-demon doesn’t mean I’m half-evil. From a glass-full perspective, I started out half-good and pure. And if you grow up embracing the moral, decent parts of you and rejecting the immoral temptations, then the will to do good prevails. And I guess I lived my life honorably enough to become a Watcher when I died.”

“Does anyone else know about you?”

“Aside from my Handler, members of the Watcher’s Council, Dylan, and now you and Quinn—no. Well, not that I’m aware of anyway. Once I became a Watcher, it was thought to be too dangerous for me if others found out, so it was decided that my past should remain a secret.”

“How have your powers gone unnoticed?”

“I’ve only ever used them on a small scale—nothing that would ever draw too much attention. On the rare occasion I’ve had to use them to defend myself or my charge, I was on assignment and no other Watchers were around.”

“If this is such a secret, why tell me? Why show me?”

“It was a gamble, but one I thought was important to take. I wanted to show you what an important asset I could be if we’re ever forced to go up against the Servants. But I also knew once you saw my secret, it wouldn’t be long before you put two and two together and discovered the similarities between what the Servants and I can do.

“I wanted you to hear it from me first,” Minerva continued, “so you knew I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you. I thought that once I explained myself, once you understood, you might come to trust me.” She sighed. “But the truth is, regardless of whether or not you
want
to trust me, you now know what I can bring to the table, and deep down, some part of you knows you need my help if you want Quinn to survive the next Servants’ attack.”

This was a lot to swallow—Dylan’s girlfriend was half Death Dealer. On the flipside, she was also a Watcher, so someone thought she was virtuous enough to spend eternity protecting humans from the Servants. Plus, Dylan trusted her unequivocally, and Quinn seemed to like her as well. Not to mention, she’d taken a big risk by willingly sharing her secrets with the three of us.

Crap. Could I really do this? Could I really trust her?
The more important question was, could I afford not to? Minerva was right—I couldn’t ignore the fact that her powers would be a
huge
asset to us. So, regardless of how trustworthy I believed her to be, I did realize I needed her help—
we
needed it. And if I pushed her away now, and something happened to Quinn, I’d never forgive myself.

I studied Minerva’s aura, examining every ripple, every hue; nothing suggested she was being deceitful. And if there was one thing I’d learned in the past year, it was that actions really did speak louder than words. Minerva had already been given plenty of opportunities to destroy both Dylan and me and deliver Quinn to Mathius, but she hadn’t. She’d offered nothing but her support and friendship.

Friends it is, I guess.
I sighed, preparing myself for the leap I was about to take.

“So, you’re a demon lovechild, huh?” I said, smirking.

She smiled faintly. “That’d be me.”

“Did you know Moon Mercenaries are also half-human and half-demon?” I asked. “I wonder what other human-immortal offspring combinations are out there.” As soon as I uttered the words, a terrifying thought leapt into my mind—Quinn and I weren’t exactly being careful. Correction—we’d
never
been careful. I felt all of the color drain from my face.

“Don’t worry, it can only happen when the female is human,” Minerva reassured me, realizing exactly where my mind had jumped.

“You sure?” I asked weakly.

“Positive. Think about it,” Minerva added. “We don’t eat. We don’t breathe. We don’t sleep. We’re not alive biologically in any way in which
that
could happen. Believe me, this is definitely
not
an issue you have to worry about.”

I went through the list of my inhuman characteristics, never feeling more thankful for every single immortal one of them.

“Phew,” I exhaled loudly in relief. “You know, I thought you having a demon for a father was the craziest thing I’d ever heard. But the thought of Quinn and I … that we could ever … That’s a whole other level of madness.” I bit back a laugh. “I mean, holy crap, can you just imagine the guys’ faces if they knew we were even
talking
about this?”

Minerva grinned. “Yeah, I think it’s best if we keep this part of our conversation to ourselves.”

“Agreed,” I said wholeheartedly.

It wasn’t long before we were giggling uncontrollably at the thought of Dylan and Quinn overhearing us talk about the possibility of my getting pregnant. The one good thing to come out of my mini panic attack was the comic relief it provided to break the tension between Minerva and me—hopefully, for once and for all.

Quinn’s parents would be returning from their vacation in less than a week, which meant July eighteenth was drawing ominously closer. The portal was now all business, all the time, just as it’d been last April.

Dylan had become an overbearing watchdog, never letting Quinn out of his sight while on the surface. Dylan even hung out in Quinn’s room the nights we stayed at the house. I didn’t mind though. I knew Quinn and I would have plenty of time alone once we were tucked safely away in the new portal for a week. Besides, Minerva was no more relaxed when it came to watching me. I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere except the Falls or the Archives without her.

At some point each evening while Quinn slept, I managed to flip through Tartuf’s Journal up in his office to see if I could find any information that would help us. Agreeing to leave the Journal up in the Archives was becoming a real issue. It’d take
days
by Earth standards to discover anything meaningful, which was time we just didn’t have.

Two days before Quinn’s parents were scheduled to return, Dylan, Minerva, Quinn and I were walking out of the grocery store after having stocked up on the last of the supplies Quinn would need for our stay in the new portal. We were loading the bags into the Defender when, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Ronald sitting outside a café across the street—or at least I thought it was Ronald … Ronald in pastel plaid pants, a pink short-sleeved polo, and a pale yellow sweater draped and tied over his shoulders. Ronald’s style was more Prada and Armani than the country-club-meets-the-Easter-bunny outfit he was currently wearing.

“Quinn,” I whispered. “Look.”

He followed my gaze. “Ronald?” Quinn asked with the same uncertainty.

“Um, why don’t you two stay here a second,” I suggested to Dylan and Minerva. “We need to talk to that guy. He’s the Augur,” I quickly threw in as Dylan was about to protest.

“Fine,” Dylan grumbled. “We’ll watch from here—but don’t go anywhere with him,” he warned.

“We won’t,” I assured him. “C’mon.” I took Quinn’s hand as we crossed the street.

“Ronald?” I asked when we were within a few feet from him.

“Try again,” he replied unenthusiastically, sipping a latte out of an oversized to-go cup. There was no humor or playfulness in his eyes or voice; in fact, he seemed almost bored. This was definitely not Ronald.

“
Ruben
?” I half-asked uncertainly, suddenly remembering Ronald had a twin brother.

“Ronald said you were smart.”

“I don’t get it,” Quinn piped in.

“And he said you were a little slower to catch on,” Ruben added smugly. “In spite of your evident potential.”

I ignored his comment. “Quinn, this is Ronald’s twin brother, Ruben,” I clarified.

“Ronald has a twin?”

“Yes. They’re both Augurs.”

“Thanks for showing up,” Quinn said, relief in his voice.

“Yeah, thank you. We’ve been looking for Ronald for weeks but haven’t been able to find him. Where is he? Is he okay?” I asked.

“He’s fine, although extremely preoccupied of late. It seems you two have caused quite a bit of ruckus, so he asked me to come all the way here and bestow certain information upon you.” Ruben made it sound like he was bending over backwards to do this favor for his brother.

“What ruckus? Has he figured out how to help us out of the mess we’re in?” Quinn blurted out.

“Those are two very complicated questions,” Ruben replied.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Why don’t we take a walk around the block,” Ruben suggested as he looked over my shoulder at a couple settling in at a nearby table. “It’s getting a little crowded.”

“I have a better idea. Let’s go back to my house,” Quinn offered.

“Lead the way.”

Quinn, Ruben, and I sat outside on the patio while Dylan and Minerva swept the perimeter. Ruben had assured us he could feel no other immortal presences in our midst, but Dylan and Minerva wanted to make sure it stayed that way.

“So, what can you tell us about the Servants?” I inquired. “Are they going to try to convert Quinn on the eighteenth? Are they going to try to kidnap him before then?”

“I cannot speak to that, but I can tell you as long as you remain committed to your present course, it is unlikely they’ll succeed.”

“So, Quinn will be fine?” I held my breath waiting for his response, but Ruben didn’t answer my question.

“Well, will I?” Quinn demanded.

“Soothsaying is not a science. We see many different possibilities. Which one will become reality depends on many factors and choices beyond our control or influence—you know, free will and all.” He rolled his eyes.

“So, what possible futures do you see for Quinn—for us?” I asked. “What choices do we need to make so he’ll be safe?”

“For my brother’s sake, I do wish I could tell you,” Ruben replied.

“Let me guess the rest—
but you can’t,”
Quinn said flippantly, completing Ruben’s remark. “That should be the tagline for all immortals.”

“Moxie,” Ruben mused, “I like that.”

“Can you at least tell us what we should be on the lookout for?” I continued. “Last time, Ronald told us there was a traitor among us, and he was right.”

“My brother,” Ruben said, shaking his head. “Such a bleeding heart for the human condition, always sticking his nose in where he shouldn’t.” He sighed heavily as he crossed his legs, repositioning himself to shield his face from the sun. “Do you happen to have a bottle of sparkling water?” Ruben asked Quinn. “Perhaps with a wedge of lime? I can already feel the heat of what will be a scorching day.”

“I’ll see what I can find,” Quinn said politely as he got up and headed towards the house, but not before he flashed me an annoyed look.

“Definite spunk.” Ruben smirked as he followed Quinn with his eyes.

“So, what don’t you want to say in front of him?” I inquired.

“You’re quick. Spunk and smarts—not a bad combination.”

“Well?” I demanded, feeling my frustration begin to fester.

“Ah, so you’ve also got some fire in you,” Ruben continued. “Well, we’ve run through every conceivable scenario based on the potential obstacles and the decisions Quinn and you will likely make.”

“And?” I jumped in anxiously.

“
And in the end, Quinn will not walk away from this unscathed,”
he said telepathically.

“
What do you mean?”
I replied silently. I couldn’t have possibly heard him correctly over the alarms sounding in my head.

“
I mean, I’m sorry.”

“‘
You’re sorry’?”
I shot back. Confusion and panic filled my mind.

“
Yes. Eve, Quinn will not survive the Servants’ attack.”

This time I heard Ruben’s words loud and clear; I just refused to accept them.

“No,” I stated aloud firmly, feeling as though my chest was in a vise grip. How can this be? “You—you just said—you
told
us Quinn would be fine,” I whispered angrily. “That as long as we kept doing what we’re doing, the Servants wouldn’t hurt him.”

“This time,” he replied.

“What do you mean
‘this time’
?” I continued in a hushed voice.

“You might be able to keep Quinn safe from harm now, but the Servants will try again. At some point, they will grab him, and when they do …”

“Are you saying I’m going to lose him?” I eked out. I felt my body go completely numb.

“As I see it, the only question remaining is whether you will be able to save his soul.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“You’re
lying!”
I growled furiously under my breath, fighting back tears.

“I wish I were.” Ruben actually looked sympathetic. “Trust me when I tell you my brother is tirelessly searching for a different outcome. Unfortunately, he has yet to discover any variables that would change the inevitable.”

“Well, then, he’s not trying hard enough,” I spat out through clenched teeth. I could no longer stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks.
“I refuse to let this ‘prophecy’ of yours come true,”
I continued telepathically,
“I won’t let it, do you hear me? I’ll sacrifice myself before I sacrifice him.”

“
I suspect you would. However, I doubt that would change anything.”

“One sparkling water with lime,” Quinn announced as he walked out of the house with Ruben’s beverage. I covertly wiped my tears away and took a deep breath to calm myself. It took everything I had not to start hyperventilating on the spot, and the last thing I wanted to do was alarm Quinn.

“Thank you, young man.” Ruben smiled as he accepted the drink. He took a long sip. “Ah, delicious. Bubbles in water—so unnecessary, yet so refreshing!” he mused. “I will give you humans credit for one thing—you have mastered the art of indulgence. You want for nothing.” He held up his hands at the Harrisons’ house as if to illustrate the moral of his story.

I just sat there, feeling sick to my stomach, reeling from what Ruben had just told me. I suddenly wanted him to leave.

“I thought gluttony fell under the purview of the seven deadly sins,” Quinn stated, smiling.

“My, my,” Ruben said, returning Quinn’s smile. “Now I know my brother was holding back—brawn
and
brains were definitely not on his Quinn list. And in response to your statement, yes, it does—but it is an entertaining ride down that ethical slippery slope, isn’t it?” He took another sip. “Mmm.” He placed the near-full drink on the nearby table. “Well, it was interesting to meet both of you, but I must be going.”

“But you just got here,” Quinn remarked in surprise. “You haven’t told us anything.”

“Miss Eve and I spoke while you were fetching my drink.” Ruben stood up and brushed off the imaginary lint from his pants. “She can fill you in.” He turned to leave, but then stopped and turned to face us once more. “A word of advice for
you
, Mr. Harrison—you already have all of the answers you need.” Ruben pointed to his head. “Be true to yourself, have faith, and you’ll figure out what to do when the time comes.” Before either Quinn or I could utter another word, Ruben was gone, leaving behind only a trail of smoke curling up into the sky.

“What the hell did that mean?” Quinn asked me.

I had a bad feeling I already knew—eventually, some warped notion could enter Quinn’s mind that the only solution to ending all of this was to sacrifice himself. But I certainly wasn’t going to plant that poisonous seed in his head, and I sure as hell wasn’t about to let anyone else walk him down that path. I just kept taking shallow, rhythmic breaths, counting the beats between each inhale and exhale. My mind began to buzz quietly, and I welcomed the white noise. It was all I could do to try to distract myself from the crushing news.

“Evie?” Quinn’s voice was sounding farther and farther away. I could feel him grab my shoulders and turn me around to face him, but I couldn’t see anything except for darkness.

“Evie?” Quinn said loudly, snapping me out of my trance. I looked over his shoulder to see Dylan and Minerva standing in the doorway. From their expressions, I knew they’d overheard some of my conversation with Ruben.

“Evie, you’re beginning to worry me. Tell me what he said.”

“I—I have to go,” I whispered, still unable to look at Quinn. I was so scared. Scared for Quinn. Scared for Dylan and Minerva. Scared for myself. Tears welled up in my eyes again, and I turned away so he couldn’t see me.

“Evie.” I felt Quinn’s grip tighten, and he pulled me into him. His scent filled the air around me, making my body ache even more at the possibility of losing him.

“Quinn.” I took a deep breath, swallowed back my tears, and mustered up what little strength I had left. “I’ll be fine. I—I just have to leave.” I had to find a way to change fate. I had to find a way to save Quinn. The Journal—the answers we needed had to be in there. I only hoped Tartuf would understand why I had to take it.

“Don’t do this, Evie,” Quinn pleaded. “Don’t leave and shut me out.”

“Dude, let her go,” Dylan said as he put his hand on Quinn’s shoulder. He nodded once at me; he knew what I was going to do.

Taking another deep breath, I looked up at Quinn and forced a smile. “Quinn, I’ll be back soon.” I felt Quinn’s grip loosen, but he was still tense. “I promise.”

I kissed him and felt like the shield protecting my soul cracked the second our lips touched. Knowing I couldn’t hide the tortured look on my face any longer, I stepped out of his embrace and immediately phased out of view.

Rather than teleport myself straight to Tartuf’s office, however, I took a detour and headed to the Falls. I phased in and immediately broke down, wrapping my arms around myself as I sunk down onto my heels and rocked myself as tears streamed down my cheeks.

“Hey,” I heard Dylan call out from behind me. “I thought you’d stop by here first.”

“Where’s Quinn?” I mumbled, wiping my face with my sleeves in an attempt to hide my crying.

“He’s fine. M’s got him.” A second later, Dylan was crouched down in front of me, his arms embracing me tightly. This gesture, this simple act of compassion, tore down the last of my defenses. I buried my head in Dylan’s chest and began to sob uncontrollably.

“We knew it wasn’t going to be easy, K.C., but that doesn’t mean we’re ready to throw in the towel and call it quits.”

“You heard Ruben. They’ve run through the variables and every scenario ends with Quinn—” I couldn’t finish my sentence.

“That’s because they’re playing out every one of
their
scenarios—not every one of
ours
. Those yahoos are working with nothing but a bowlful of eggshells and fish bones. All we need to do is change it up for them—find better ingredients, better ‘variables,’ to introduce new scenarios and change Quinn’s outcome.”

I looked up at Dylan with tear-filled eyes. “Dylan, those ‘yahoos’ are
Augurs
. Their purpose is to see the future.”

“But that doesn’t mean there’s only one or even two futures to be seen. Ruben said it himself—what they do isn’t a science. The future depends on different factors and choices—factors
we
can bring in and choices
we
can make—
‘You know, free will, and all,’
” Dylan mimicked Ruben perfectly and grinned, but I wasn’t in the mood for his humor.