Chapter 25
Quinn
The beeps of medical equipment surrounded me. I looked up at the viewing platform to see my dad, with his hand pressed against the glass, watching. Doctors in blue scrubs and masks arranged equipment. A medical assistance robot made micro-adjustments as the technician gave it a final check.
“Now, this is brain surgery, Quinn,” a light voice to my left explained.
I couldn’t turn to look at the person. My head was locked into place by tiny clamps pressing on my forehead. I’d already freaked out once, but they’d been ready.
Doctor Oz and his team did brain surgery every day. This was run-of-the-mill for them. I wondered what it was like to have that kind of skill at their fingertips.
“You won’t feel anything, but we can’t put you to sleep,” the voice continued. “We have a conscious sedation for an awake craniotomy.”
“Right,” I said drowsily.
The voice laughed. “Great.” A picture of a horse appeared on a screen in front of me. “What is this?”
“A horse,” I answered.
“Good,” the voice said. The picture changed to a duck.
I looked up at my dad, who waved at me.
That park ranger had to lie in agony for six hours before a rescue team came. He had taken his first steps again two months ago, ten months after I somehow destroyed his knees.
I’d been afraid to touch anything. I’d been scared to live. If I couldn’t get rid of Miss Q, I was too dangerous to exist.
The sound of a drill filled the room. Despite the sedation, my heart rate increased, making the beeps and machines go wild.
“I need more sedation right now.” I still couldn’t turn my head.
“I’m on it,” the voice said.
Almost instantly, everything calmed. A picture of a castle appeared in front of my face. “And what is this?”
“A castle,” I answered, my voice a little slurred.
“Very good.”
The drill started up again. Tears ran down my face as Doctor Oz began fixing me.
It never occurred to me that Cayden and Rowan would meet, or, more accurately, that their meeting would cause a problem.
Rowan was with Angela. As I understood contracts, he was temporarily married and not on the market. And Cayden didn’t like me like that. He was a tactile person. All his little touches were his way of showing affection, but not romantic interest. Which sucked, but I had to face the facts.
I didn’t want them to fight, but I had to admit their coming to blows over me was a little exciting.
Men were usually running from me, not defending my honor.
The fact Rowan found me after my fall and brought me back to the castle, only to abandon me, was a lot to unpack…
later. Not when said mage was helping me gain my financial independence.
I stepped into the stables to find Rowan and Cayden saddling their horses.
I didn’t know I could come to hate a place in five days, but my new work-study had done that to me.
Although the horses were fun, the stables smelled.
Constant dust floated in the air along with the buzz of flies.
I was usually here at night, but the morning light didn’t make the space much brighter.
I took a deep breath, crossed my arms, and leaned against the wall.
Neither man had noticed me yet, and I watched them work.
Where Rowan was all bulk and power, Cayden moved with the careful poise of a Siamese cat.
They were so different, but both incredibly handsome in their own way.
Rowan’s lower half flexed, showing off his bubble butt, as he tossed a heavy leather saddle onto his massive barrel-chested bay Clydesdale.
The Clydesdale's opposite, Cayden’s sleek Friesian, with its pure black coat, glowed.
The horse tossed his head a few times, making Cayden place his hand on the beast's nose to calm it.
His arm flexed under his rolled-up sleeve as he murmured to his horse.
Once calmed, he slid a freshly oiled bridle into place.
I wrinkled my nose. Freshly oiled because of my second work-study. At least working at the stables taught me more about horses. I hadn’t known the leather harness that went on a horse’s head was called a bridle until a few days ago.
Cayden cinched his saddle and turned to Rowan.
His glare could have burned holes in the enforcer’s black uniform.
Rowan didn’t acknowledge Cayden. He turned to me, as if knowing I’d been watching this entire time.
I flushed, very aware I was a twenty-four-year-old virgin crushing on both men in front of me, neither of whom wanted to pop my cherry.
Rowan held out his hand. “You ride with me.”
“She does not,” Cayden snapped.
The two glared at each other.
“Does someone have a coin?” I asked.
They both gave me an odd look.
“You know to flip?” I asked.
“Coins don’t have different pictures on each side.” Cayden narrowed his eyes at me.
I laughed and waved him off. “Sorry, I was thinking of something from back home. You get the point, do something random.”
Rowan grunted and handed me two pieces of hay. One short and one long. A minute later, I was mounted in front of Cayden.
I wiggled in the saddle, definitely meant for one, trying to find a comfortable spot without crowding Cayden. My friend scooted back a little, and I half sat on his lap and half squished against the arch at the front.
“I didn’t realize I’d feel this tall.” The Friesian lifted a back leg to kick at a fly, and I pitched to the side.
Cayden wrapped an arm around me and pulled me close. “Is this your first time on a horse?”
Some of my confidence turned into healthy fear. “Yes.”
Rowan frowned. “You said you came from the North. How did you get here?”
“I walked,” I answered. When Rowan looked at me skeptically, I added, “A lot.”
“Ignore him.” Cayden’s left thigh tensed, and the horse sidestepped right. “You don’t need to respond to his interrogation.”
Rowan let out a frustrated breath before leading us through the Portcullis, across a wide-open stone paved area, and onto The Royal Mile.
Buildings stretched on either side of me as far as I could see.
What appeared to be a cathedral with flying buttresses caught my eye, but before we could get close, we turned left.
I took a deep breath. Eventually, I would explore more; today, I needed to sell my clothing and gain my independence.
“Lean back as we go downhill,” Cayden said, his lips right next to my ear.
I did, and he pulled me closer to his chest. Between Cayden’s arms and the very intimate grip the saddle had between my legs, pleasure built.
Nothing as intense as self-pleasure, but it was nice.
My friend might have been wrong to attack Rowan, but no one had ever defended me with that kind of ferocity.
A real David against Goliath, and Cayden never flinched.
Ok, it was more than a little exciting. Cayden coming to my defense had been a big turn-on, and thinking about it wasn’t helping my current predicament.
The horse continued to rock with every step.
Cayden’s grip on me loosened as my balance improved, only for his thumb to rub little circles on my hip.
It didn’t take long for me to be well, truly, and very inappropriately worked up.
I needed a distraction.
“How did you find me? Where exactly was I?” I asked Rowan to get my mind out of the gutter.
Rowan’s tight gaze didn’t leave the road in front of him.
He shifted uncomfortably in his saddle, and a slight blush stained his cheeks.
I wrinkled my nose but decided asking him what was wrong while in Cayden’s presence wouldn’t get me an honest answer.
Maybe talking would be a good distraction for both of us.
“You were under a table inside Willow’s shop.” Rowan frowned. “I picked you up and got you out of there. Freya McDonald was shopping, and if she’d realized who you were, I’m not sure we would have ever seen you again.”
I swallowed. “Is she bad?”
“Bad?” Rowan shook his head. “The McDonalds hate the Architect. They believe blood, and only blood, can tie a family together. They would use you to further add to their family, whether you wanted to or not.”
Whatever heat I’d been feeling died. I knew exactly what that meant. It’s what the old man and his sons tried to do, and what Chancellor Morgen said the Architect wanted to do. I bit my lips shut, regretting asking.
“What about your family, Quinn?” Rowan asked.
The road started to level out, and the husks of a few cars dotted the broken cobblestones.
I didn’t know my models well, much less my European ones, but they didn’t look much different from the vehicles of my time.
An overturned double-decker bus lay half in the husk of a massive fountain.
Streaks of its remaining red paint stood out starkly against the gray day.
“It was me and my dad,” I answered as honestly as I could. “I wasn’t a healthy child. My area was mostly small families who didn’t look out for each other.”
“How did you have no other family?” Rowan asked. “What happened to your mom?”
I tapped my finger against the saddle, knowing exactly what I wanted to say: ‘I’m from the past or possibly a different reality… or you might all be in my mind, just very detailed figments of my imagination. So, lay off.’ But I wasn’t ready to open that can of worms yet.
“My mom died shortly after I was born,” I said instead.
“I don’t really remember her, but I know she loved my dad a lot, and her death devastated him.
She and my dad were both only children. They bonded over that.
I think my grandma on my mom’s side passed away when I was around nine or ten.
I had a great-uncle on my dad’s side, whom I met once. But the Questions have been dwindling.”
Rowan did turn, but his voice softened. “I lost my mom too, when I was a teen.”
My heart bled for both of us. The clopping of hooves filled the silence.
Rowan pulled his shoulders back and glanced behind him to shoot Cayden a hard look. “And the Lawsons?”