Under the Moon (30 page)

“Here.” Quinn reached for the pitcher. “Drink some water. I’ll go see if I can find a vending machine, get you something to eat. Your blood sugar must be low.”

Nick caught her hand as she rose. “Hey.” He tugged, and she sat back down. “Thank you for what you did last night.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

“Yeah, I do. This is a pretty severe role reversal. It wasn’t your job to come get me, and it put you at risk.”

Quinn felt her face go stony. “It had nothing to do with a professional relationship. You’re my friend. At some point, my own well-being has to stop being more important than anyone else’s.”

Nick held her gaze for a moment, then let her go. She stood, hesitated, and decided they’d said enough. He needed food, not a debate.

By the time she got back with a pack of peanut butter crackers and a bottle of apple juice, Sam had returned. He had Nick on his feet with his arm slung over Sam’s shoulder, but they hadn’t moved far from the bed.

“Are you having trouble walking on it?” She moved to Nick’s other side and slid under his shoulder. His long, lean, hard body aligned with hers stoked her lust to a simmer.

“Nah. It’s the dizziness thing. Dr. Scary was in here, though, looking like he was going to shoot me again if I didn’t get my sorry carcass out of his bed.”

They wobbled out of the room and down the hall to the rear entrance. Once outside, Quinn and Sam lowered Nick to a bench next to the door. As soon as she wasn’t touching him, the simmer subsided but didn’t go away completely.

Quinn swallowed hard and stepped back a few feet. “I’ll get Chloe’s car. We’ll drive to the Charger. Sam, where’s the rental?”

“Back on the road near Marley’s inn.”

“Can you call the rental company to come get it? We’re not going to be able to take it with us.”

“I can drive,” Nick said. But he was blinking funny again, a lot like Sam had after his accident.

“No way,” Quinn said.

“Fine, but you’re not driving the Charger.”

“Neither are you. Not until your head clears.”

“Sam can do it.”

Quinn snorted. “Obviously, you’re out of your head.” Both men gave her pained looks. “All right, fine. I’ll be right back.”

She brought Chloe’s car to the sidewalk, then drove them to the Charger on the side of the dirt track.

“Why is this road so dubious?” she asked.

“It’s not the main way,” Sam explained. “Just the fastest.”

“How did you know that?”

His mouth quirked. “Google satellite maps.”

She shook her head. “You’re such a geek.” But thank god for that.

“Thank you.” He opened his door to get out. “What’s the next step?”

“There’s a truck stop about ten miles down the highway,” Quinn said. “I think Nick probably wants a shower, after all that sweating last night.”

“Hell, yeah.”

“They’ll have medical supplies in the store. And we need food. We can plan over breakfast.”

“Sounds fan-freaking-tastic to me,” Nick said. He hadn’t moved. His eyes were closed, his head back against the headrest.

Sam hesitated. “Aren’t you coming with me?”

“Nope. Don’t crash her.”

Quinn caught Sam’s pleased smile before he stood and slammed his door.

Nick winced. “God, I feel hungover. All the crap without the fun.”

“You didn’t think that was fun? I’m crushed.” She put the car into gear as Sam started the Charger with a roar and rolled down the wagon tracks.

Nick didn’t open his eyes, but his voice went husky. “When we have fun together, Quinn, there won’t be any hangover the next day.”

…

Two days ago, Quinn might have confronted Nick after a statement like that. But she didn’t dare risk it now. She’d been attracted to Nick forever but had never been with him when she was under the influence of the moon. She was very afraid the combined moon lust and natural desire for him would make her do something stupid. So she kept her eyes on the road, her hands on the steering wheel, and her mouth clamped shut for the next fifteen minutes.

The truck stop’s multitude of tiny stores was mall-like, albeit not the kind Quinn usually shopped in. She managed to get a change of clothes for herself, since she’d left their things behind at Chloe’s, and the supplies to redress Nick’s wound after he showered. She hated leaving him in pain, but with the leech primed to attack any time, she had to be ready. It was a convenient excuse to keep her from using more power and increasing her cravings for him.

Quinn expected arguments from both guys about splitting up to take showers and change clothes, but Nick posted Sam on watch as she went into the women’s locker room. When she emerged they’d switched places, and Nick stood outside, his weight on his right leg. His hair was damp and spiky and he hadn’t shaved, but in a clean, soft-looking T-shirt and jeans, he looked delicious. When Quinn stopped next to him, she got a whiff of musky soap and barely stopped herself from leaning in to sniff his neck.

“Where’s Sam?” she asked. “Already in the restaurant?”

“Hell, no. He’s doing something with his hair. He’s such a girl.”

“Let’s go sit down.” She took Nick’s elbow and started toward the diner side of the truck stop. “He’ll find us.” He wouldn’t admit it, but she could tell even standing in one place took its toll on him. And she needed a table between them and lots more people around.

They got a booth and she told him about the leech calling while he was asleep, playing it down as he got more and more pissed the longer she talked. Sam joined them a few minutes later, sliding in next to Quinn. Her body sizzled, and she slid away as subtly as possible.

“I told you all along it was you.” Nick’s hand was in a fist on the table. “We’ll go back to Benton Harbor.”

“The hell we will!” Quinn leaned forward and worked to keep her voice down. “It’s too late for that. All this time we’ve been operating under assumptions and running around blind, trying to ferret out information. Now we have something concrete. We’re not backing off now. Especially,” she ground out as the waitress approached, “when it’s obvious my sister is involved
and
that Sam and I might be suspects.”

“What?” the guys said in unison, staring at her.

The waitress interrupted, so after they’d ordered enough food to fuel them for a week, Quinn brought them up to speed on the conversations they’d missed. “I don’t know that anyone actually thinks Sam is the leech, but it connects, doesn’t it? With the questions the security team asked Chloe? Maybe they’ve suspected me all along, and the family ties thing was to keep me in the dark.”

“But
why
?” Sam was incredulous. “There’s no evidence, and I’m always at the bar. People can confirm that.”

But Nick shrugged. “Not sure they could convincingly. And you two have always been beyond close. A lot of people wouldn’t be surprised that you’d taken that step.” He motioned to get more coffee.

“But Tanda and Chloe know me,” Sam protested. “They know I’m not the leech.”

Quinn heaved a sigh. “They’d argue that you concealed your identity or affected their memories or something. And we’ve been on the road since this started, so it looks like we’re on the run.”

“Except you went to the Society offices and to talk to Alana,” Sam said.

“Maybe they didn’t suspect me until after that. Or they didn’t have enough to arrest me or something. I don’t know!” Frustrated, she fell back against the booth while the waitress flirted with Nick over the coffeepot. By the time the woman sashayed off, Quinn had managed to calm down enough to redirect the conversation to something more productive. “That’s all speculation and out of our control. Tell us everything you learned before you got shot.”

Nick shifted to stretch his leg and leaned over the Formica-and-chrome table. “The inn looks like it does good business. There were a lot of cars out front, couples walking around in the back.” He sipped his fresh coffee. “Everyone looked normal to me, not like the misfits Ned said she collects.”

“Maybe they don’t mingle with the regular guests,” Sam suggested.

“That’s what I thought. There’s a compound on the other side of the property from where you found me. A few small cottages, a stable, a shed, and a larger building. No one was around there, but it might be where her friends collect.”

“Did you get inside?” Sam asked.

Nick shook his head. “Didn’t want to risk it. And I was trying to get a handle on Marley.”

“Did you find her?” Quinn asked.

“No.” He looked disgruntled. “My plan was to scope the place—literally—and then go in like a customer, you know, looking for a room. But I thought I saw something in a window. Next thing I know, Sam’s breaking the spell, and I realize I’ve been staring at nothing for hours.”

“I looked through the scope and there was nothing in the window,” Sam said. “Not in any of the windows. I couldn’t even see into the rooms.”

The waitress appeared with a huge tray and set down their plates. Scrambled eggs, sausage, home fries, and toast for Nick. A western omelet and bacon for Sam. A raisin bagel and fresh fruit for Quinn, who gave in to temptation and swiped a piece of Sam’s bacon. The waitress poured more coffee all around again, then left them alone.

“So why did you start to go closer?”

Nick and Sam exchanged a look. Then Sam said, “It was like being pulled.”

“Or pushed,” Nick said.

“We just got up and started walking across the lawn.”

“What did you think you were going to do?”

They both shrugged and forked egg into their mouths.

Quinn sighed. “Yeah, that was helpful.” She stabbed a strawberry, stared at it, and dropped her fork. “It makes no sense. None of the leeched goddesses have mind control power. It doesn’t exist.”

“Maybe the woman in South Carolina had something.” Nick shoved a huge bite of sausage in his mouth.

“No, she couldn’t have.” Sam poked his fork at a chunk of pepper. “It was probably a form of telekinesis, moving our bodies rather than controlling our minds.”

“So it could have been Marley, or the leech, which we already knew.” Nick looked disgusted.

Talking was getting them nowhere. Quinn forced herself to eat the strawberry. Her appetite had disappeared, but she needed the fuel. “I’m going to call Marley and arrange a meeting.”

Neither of the men offered an opinion on that, so she dug out her cell phone. She’d added Marley’s number, listed in the Society directory, to her phone book when they were still in Michigan. She called it up and hit send. After four rings, a machine came on with a message stating she’d reached the Athena Inn.

“That’s subtle,” she muttered while she waited for the beep. “My name is Quinn Caldwell. I’d like to talk to someone about a room.” She left her number and hung up.

“I called six times yesterday,” Nick said. “Never got a person, and no one called me back.”

“But you saw people walking around? Like, guests?”

“A few, yeah.”

“Weird.”

Sam chewed his last bite of omelet and picked up the check. “I’m going to pay. I got it,” he said, waving away the money Quinn pulled out of her wallet. As soon as he slid out of the booth, she could breathe easier.

Nick concentrated on mopping up yolk with his last piece of toast.

“How’s your leg?” She watched the tendons flex in his hand and wrist, her eyes traveling up his forearm, her palms itching to touch. “Did Sam help you redress it?”

“I did it. It’s fine. Hurts like a son of a bitch, but it looks good.”

“I can heal it now.”

“Later.” He swallowed and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “You’re wiped out.”

If he only knew. “I want to go to the inn and try to find Marley. I need to see her face to face.” She hesitated, knowing it was fruitless, but she had to try. “I think I should go without you and Sam.”

“No way.”

“You’ll be safer away from whoever’s responsible for this,” she argued, motioning to his leg.
And away from me.