Quinn's Undying Rose (Scanguards Vampires #6) Page 2

  Tears freed themselves from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks like an avalanche. She couldn’t allow Blake to meet the same fate as her. She’d promised Charlotte and herself that her children and children’s children would lead normal lives. Nobody would be cursed to be a vampire. Never again.

  “Where are you when I need you?” she cried out. “Quinn, you have to help me now. You owe me. He’s your flesh and blood too.”

  2

  Quinn slunk into the passenger seat as Oliver took the driver’s seat of the SUV and started the engine.

  “Wish you could stay longer,” Oliver said as he pulled onto the unlit country lane, leaving the house behind where the inner core of Scanguards had been celebrating yet another blood-bond.

  Only vampires and their mates had been invited—well, and Oliver. Not to forget a few dogs: Zane had brought Z, and Samson and Delilah had brought their baby daughter Isabelle’s little puppy too. If they weren’t careful, Scanguards would turn into a circus.

  “Gotta get back to New York. Besides, what would I do here? Watch how Zane makes puppy eyes at Portia the same way his dog does?” Quinn chuckled. “Better get out of here. Whatever’s going on here might be contagious.”

  The human kid next to him gave him a sideways grin—yeah, he was a kid, barely in his mid-twenties, and while Quinn too looked rather young, he carried the experience and memories of two centuries on his shoulders. Two very long and lonely centuries, despite the fact that he’d never been alone and had always surrounded himself with the hottest pieces of ass available. But being surrounded by others hadn’t chased away the emptiness in his heart. He’d felt it physically tonight. Seeing so many of his friends happily tied to their blood-bonded mates had driven reality home once more.

  “Like you would ever settle down,” Oliver claimed. “Hey man, the life you’re living—that’s what I want. Women left, right, and center. You’re doing it right.”

  Quinn caught his admiring look and forced his usual charming smile onto his lips. He’d perfected it over the last two hundred years, and by now, even he couldn’t tell how fake it was. If that wasn’t an accomplishment in itself!

  “Hey, kiddo, I just make it look easy. Being a playboy takes a lot of work—and energy.” He winked, forcing his thoughts about his past to retreat into the dark recesses of his mind.

  Oliver burst out in laughter. “Right! I don’t mind that kind of work.” He wiggled his eyebrows in Groucho Marx fashion. “And energy I’ve got plenty of.”

  “The young!” Quinn rolled his eyes. “No appreciation for the art of seduction. It takes skill and cunning to coax a woman into your bed.”

  “It takes money, good looks, and a big dick!”

  Quinn couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well, that certainly helps. But then of course that leaves you short on two things.”

  Oliver turned his head away from the winding road ahead of him.

  “ ‘Cause the looks you’ve got!” Quinn added.

  His young colleague snorted, showing his outrage. “You haven’t seen my dick!”

  “Yeah, and by the grace of God, I hope I never will.” Quinn laughed, unable to contain himself.

  Oliver glared at him. “I have what it takes!”

  “Whatever you say, kiddo!” His eyes started tearing, and he could barely get the words out without bursting into laughter.

  “You don’t believe me? What? You think cause you’re a vampire and I’m not, I don’t have the equipment?”

  Quinn shook his head. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”

  “Well, is that it? You think you’re better at it because you’re a vampire?”

  Quinn decided not to let Oliver goad him into a comparison of their two species. With a grin on his face he winked at him. “Once you’ve been at it for as long as I have, I bet you’d be even better than me. I think you’d be a natural.”

  A proud sheen of excitement radiated from Oliver’s eyes. “You really think that?”

  “Sure I do. I’ve seen how girls look at you.” He ruffled his dark hair, which as usual stood in all directions as if he’d just gotten out of bed. “Of course at this point they all just want to tame your wild mane. But trust me, that’s an advantage: you reel them in with your innocent, cute-boy looks, and badabing-badaboom, you’ve got them in the sack.”

  Oliver grinned from ear to ear. “Yeah!”

  He looked so innocent and fresh-faced, Quinn felt his heart clench for a moment. He’d been like Oliver once: full of excitement for his life ahead. Full of hope. In love. And then he’d lost it all: his life, his hope, his love.

  He cleared his throat, desperately trying to push down the rising memories and reached for the first words that came to him. “You should come visit me in New York. We can hang out and pick up some babes.”

  “Really?” Oliver’s voice was full of awe as if he’d just been presented with the keys to a Lamborghini. “You mean that? Man! That’s awesome!”

  Quinn sighed. Now he’d unleashed something in the kid that would last at least until they reached the airport, where a private Scanguards jet was waiting to take him to New York. Better that than wallowing in his own thoughts. And maybe a visit from Oliver would be fun. Jake, who was currently holding down the fort in the New York office of Scanguards, could join them, and the three of them could go hunting.

  He could teach the kid a thing or two, just for the hell of it. When he was older, he would understand that it wasn’t about how many conquests he made, but who he conquered.

  “Why don’t you talk to Samson and ask him to give you a couple of weeks off? I’m sure he’ll be okay with it. Now that Zane’s all domesticated, I really have nobody else to go partying with.”

  Oliver’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “You mean I’m going to be like Zane? Like I’m taking his place?”

  Quinn howled. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Oliver! Nobody can be like Zane!”

  “But I’m taking his place, aren’t I?” he hastened to repeat.

  Quinn gave him a slap on the shoulder, secretly happy about the kid’s enthusiasm. Nevertheless, he couldn’t stop needling him. “Those are big shoes to fill. You’re up for that?”

  “You say when and where, and I’m your man!” Oliver proclaimed, beaming at him.

  Quinn nodded, his head turning sideways, when he perceived something in the corner of his eye. His head whipped toward the dark road in front of them. Shit!

  “Oliver! Watch out!” he yelled.

  Oliver’s head snapped to the obstacle in front of them: in their lane, cones cordoned off equipment for road work, resting there for the night, but the flashing lights that usually accompanied such blockages weren’t flashing—they appeared dim and barely recognizable in the dark night. To the right of it there was no outlet: a wall of rock rose next to the shoulder.

  “Fuck!” came from Oliver’s mouth.

  “Swerve!”

  Just as Oliver yanked the steering wheel to the left to avoid the excavator, the light of another car speeding toward them, blinded them. In vampire speed, Quinn jerked the wheel back to the right, just as Oliver slammed on the brakes.

  The tires screeched, and the back of the car fishtailed out. Loose gravel from the construction site suddenly made the tires spin without finding purchase. The car advanced, virtually unimpeded, heading straight for the excavator. Wildly turning the unresponsive steering wheel and pressing down the brakes, Oliver tried to avoid the inevitable. With a loud thud, the car crashed into the side of the small excavator, which toppled to its side. Only now, Quinn noticed the crane next to it.

  The power of the impact deployed the airbags, but the windows blew out and with horror, Quinn saw how Oliver was thrown out of the car. He hadn’t worn his seat belt.

  Quinn was held back by his own seat belt, the air bag suddenly obstructing his view.

  He fumbled for the release of the belt and realized that it was jammed. He forced his fingers to turn into claws, but ju
st as he sliced through the material, he heard a snapping sound and looked around him when he perceived a movement outside the passenger window. As he whirled his head to look through it, he saw a large plate of steel, suspended from the beam of the crane, swinging toward him.

  He froze in mid-movement. Shit! There was no way out of this. The steel plate would decapitate him. It was over.

  His life didn’t flash before him; maybe it wasn’t that way for vampires. Only one thought filled him now. He was finally going home.

  Rose.

  With a last breath, he sighed.

  Rose, we’ll be together again. Finally.

  Then he felt the impact as the car got hit. He was knocked sideways, hitting the steering wheel to his left. All went black.

  3

  London, 1813

  “Rose,” Quinn whispered from behind a hedge as he saw her emerge from the ballroom and step onto the quiet terrace, where at present nobody else sought refuge from the crowd.

  She looked lovelier than ever. Her golden hair was piled high on her head, soft ringlets pulled from it to surround her perfectly oval face. Her skin was alabaster—not a single wrinkle anywhere, flawless. Her dress was cut fashionably low, her small bosom enhanced by the bodice that pushed up her flesh as if presenting it on a platter. With each step she took, it threatened to escape the silken fabric of her dress, bouncing merrily up and down, driving any breathing man insane in the process. More so Quinn, for he was in love with the delightful creature.

  “Rose.”

  When she heard his voice, she hurried in his direction, cautiously throwing a glance over her shoulder toward the ballroom, making sure nobody had followed her.

  In the seconds it took her to come to him, he admired her graceful walk, which seemed as light as that of a gazelle. The sound of her slippers was absorbed into nothingness as soon as she stepped off the terrace and onto the manicured lawn below.

  Quinn reached for her and pulled her behind the hedge with him, hungry for a touch. A kiss even.

  “Quinn.” Her voice was breathless as if she’d danced one of the more energetic country dances the lower classes enjoyed and not the sedate dances their hosts, Lord and Lady Somersby, preferred.

  When he dragged her against him, disregarding all manners and decorum, the rays of the moon lit her face, presenting her heated cheeks to his gaze. But his eyes dipped lower to those lips that waited, slightly parted, for his touch.

  “Oh, Rose, my love. I couldn’t wait another moment.”

  He sunk his lips onto hers, taking in her pure scent, her innocent response. With a sigh, he slid his hand to the back of her head and pulled her closer. When he nudged his tongue against her lips, a soft whimper issued from her mouth. He welcomed it and slipped his tongue between her lips, sliding it along her teeth, coaxing, tempting, urging. Her taste was intoxicating, her scent mouthwatering.

  Finally, her timid tongue met his, and life stood still.

  “My Rose,” he mumbled and slanted his mouth, diving into her, his passion unleashed, his control shattered. This was the third time he kissed her, and just like the first two times, the moment she responded to him, he was lost.

  His other hand went down to her buttocks, palming her curves through the thin layers of her ball gown. A shocked gasp escaped her, but a moment later, she molded her heated body to his, her soft breasts rubbing against his evening coat. And lower down, where his trousers were bulging with a shaft as hard as a blacksmith’s iron rod, he nestled against her soft center. Was it the summer air or the fact she’d danced all night that he perceived her so hot there? Or did the heat have an altogether different reason?

  The thought nearly drove him to madness. But he couldn’t take her here, where any moment now, another amorous couple or some unsuspecting guest might stumble upon them. Reluctantly, he released her lips. Yet he couldn’t let go of her body.

  “We must be careful,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, her lips looking thoroughly red and abused. He was responsible for that, but by God, he couldn’t regret it.

  “Papa will soon notice that I am gone.”

  “Nonsense, your father is occupied at the tables. And I’ve made sure your chaperone is otherwise engaged.”

  Her eyes widened. Was it surprise or delight he saw in them?

  “Pray tell, what did you do?”

  He winked at her mischievously. “I made sure she had an ardent admirer this evening who will claim all her dances and ply her with punch.”

  She flicked her fan lightly against his waistcoat. “You are cruel. What if she believes in his insincere attention?”

  Quinn took her hand and led her fingers to his lips, kissing them one-by-one as he replied, “Who says his attention is insincere? Mayhap he simply needed a little encouragement to overcome his shyness.”

  “You, my lord,” she said in mock-reprimand, “have not a single young man in your acquaintance to whom the label of ‘shy’ might apply. The company you keep is considered most . . . ” She hesitated, looking for the correct word. “ . . . debauched.”

  “Does it matter what company I keep? All I truly desire is yours. And once you grant it, I shall be with only you.”

  “You mean to say, once my father grants it.”

  Quinn sighed, his chest heavy with what he had come to tell her tonight. He’d thought long and hard about it, had even discussed it with his older brother, who had thought the idea a viable one.

  “What is wrong?” Her voice carried the sound of concern.

  “Ah, perceptive as always. Is there anything I can hide from you?”

  Rose gave him a coquettish smile, one that made his heart melt. “Do you want to hide anything from me, my lord?”

  He pulled her closer. “If you call me ‘my lord’ one more time, I certainly shall. But when my name crosses your lips, I will be utterly incapable of doing so.”

  Her eyelids fluttered as her cheeks colored in a deeper red. “Quinn.” More breath than sound, the word tumbled from her lips.

  Capturing her chin between thumb and forefinger, he brought her mouth to his. “Ah, Rose, you tempt me so.”

  He sensed her lift herself onto her tip toes, and he had no restraint left. All he could do was kiss her, take her soft lips, caress her wicked tongue, all the while pressing her soft curves to his body, fueling the fire inside him until he realized that he could not take leave of her tonight.

  Nudging back from her lips, he put his forehead to hers. “My love, I will be leaving tomorrow. For the continent.”

  A shocked gasp escaped her as she pulled her head back to stare at him in surprise. “Leaving?”

  With his knuckles, he brushed over her cheek. “I purchased a commission and shall be joining Wellington’s army.”

  Her lips quivered. “You are going to war?”

  She pulled from him, but he dragged her back.

  “It’s the only way. Your father won’t give his consent. I spoke to him. He simply laughed in my face.”

  “You spoke to Papa? About me?”

  He nodded. “I asked for your hand. He refused, saying I have nothing to offer you, no title, no wealth of significance. My brother will inherit the title; all I have is a small estate from my mother’s side. Your father doesn’t deem it sufficient.”

  And why should he? Rose deserved so much more. She was the daughter of an Earl, a beauty at that, and suitors lined up wherever she appeared. Her father would be a fool to allow her to marry a second son, a man without a title.

  “But he must understand.” Her eyes reddened, a sign that tears were imminent.

  Quinn laid his finger across her lips. “Shh, my love. Hear me out. I have a plan. It will work.”

  Rose raised her lids in hope. Ah, how he could see the love shining in her eyes, a love that burned for him. It was all worth it, just to see this.

  “I have spoken to several officers in Wellington’s army. I can rise in the ranks very quickly. I’ll be fighting by Wellington’s side soon and come ba
ck a decorated war hero. Many doors will open for me; I will be wealthy, and despite the lack of title, your father won’t refuse me then.”

  He could see the little wheels in her pretty head turn, the way frown lines showed on her forehead told him as much.

  “But you can get killed.”

  Of course, she would be worried about him. He hadn’t expected anything less. “You know me. I can look after myself. I promise you, I’ll come back in one piece.”

  She gave him a doubtful look. “They all say that. And then they come back, limbs missing, or worse, they don’t come back at all. I have heard of the accounts, of the terrible things that happen on the battlefield.” She turned away from him.

  Quinn sighed and put his arms around her from behind, pulling her against him, her soft buttocks fitting perfectly against his groin. “My love, I will come back to you. I promise you that. I won’t allow anybody to kill me. And you know why?”

  “Why?” she asked, her voice quiet and resigned.

  He dipped his head to her neck. “Because I love you, and I plan on spending my life making you happy.”

  “You promise?”

  “Yes, if you promise me one thing too.”

  “Yes?” She turned her head to meet his gaze.

  “You won’t entertain any other offers of marriage. You are mine, no other man will ever touch you.”

  She closed her eyes. “Papa will force me.”

  Quinn shook his head. “No, he won’t be able to.” Tonight he would make sure that Rose could never accept another man.

  He turned her to face him. “Because tonight, you’ll become mine.”

  He witnessed the exact moment when Rose realized what he was saying. First, shock spread over her lovely features, then a furious blush, her bosom heaving in concert with her excited breaths.

  “You are planning on ruining me?” she whispered.

  “Not ruin. I’m going to make you mine; I’m going to make you my wife and love you like a husband.”

  “A husband,” she murmured in disbelief. “Without the blessings of the church and society?”