Chapter 8 Quinn #2
I bit my bottom lip and studied my outline in his mesmerizing white gaze.
I hadn’t known what else to do. Hadn’t being the keyword.
New world, new me. It was cliché—sort of—but believing all of this was a product of my imagination had given me the freedom to grow… and I refused to take any steps back.
Rowan searched my face, as if desperate to understand my thoughts.
“You’re not a burden,” I repeated his words. “And neither am I.” A small guilty smile pulled at my cheeks. “But trouble seems to follow me around here.”
Rowan’s face split into a grin. He dropped his hand and rested it on my shoulder. “Yes, my kind of girl. Life would be boring otherwise.”
My heart thumped.“My dad wasn’t happy when I told him I dropped Angela, but his eyes lit up like he couldn’t wait to fix the situation.
After Mom passed, his life became negotiations and trade deals, and I’ve given him his hardest puzzle yet.
” He took his hand off my shoulder, looking around to see if anyone spotted us.
I sighed. “Angela’s back in London, right?”
“On her way, but she has eyes everywhere.” Rowan punched his fist into his palm. “And I don’t want to make anything worse for you… us now, than I already have.”
‘Us’, my thumping heart threatened to burst. I gripped my hands behind my back and forced myself to focus on the present. “Even if we don’t work out. I think getting away from her is the right thing to do.”
Rowan flinched. “Why wouldn’t we work out? Did th… Xan say something?”
“About you? No.” I shook my head. “Not a word about you. Whatever’s going on, he’s keeping it quiet. You’re safe.”
Rowan looked at me. “And what is going on, Quinn?”
I looked at Rowan. “I mean, I guess I don’t know, but Xan is one of Angela’s suitors, right? That’s why everything was so awkward?”
A manic laugh ripped out of Rowan’s throat. He ran his hands down his face. “Yes. Well, no, not at all. He’s… let’s just focus on training.”
Later that afternoon, I walked to The Great Hall only to find it empty.
I was supposed to be shadowing a joiner today.
I didn’t even know what that was. After waiting around for fifteen minutes, I realized I wasn’t going to find out either.
The guy was a no-show. After a second quick circuit, I looked for a note or some clue on what to do next, but found nothing, so I exited.
I had a rare two-hour block of time to myself.
I stepped into the doorway and leaned against a wall, channeling my inner Rowan. The lovely courtyard stretched in the gray afternoon. Professor Holiday’s home in The Old Fortress loomed on my right.
The Architect had been awake for eight days, and I’d heard nothing.
Fear had cooled to irritation.
Which matched my endless failures in trying to use magic.
Based on Chancellor Morgen’s story, I touched everything, desperate for something to resonate with me.
Everly even found a stray cat, which had been very, very awkward.
I was still thankful it just meowed in my face a few times and wandered off.
I stepped into the courtyard and pulled on my bumblebee-yellow hoodie and a leather jacket. I was getting tired of the cold really fast.
A familiar slime coated my cheek, along with the smell of roses. I found my toes pointing at The Old Fortress despite not remembering turning. The rose smell swelled. The scent was perfumy, with a hint of chemicals from my time.
Grass crunched under my feet. When had I started walking?
It wasn’t just me moving toward The Old Fortress. Rowan’s book, Cayden, and everyone I talked to about magic, described it as currents constantly flowing around them. The rose smell flowed in a direction; it pulled me toward The Old Fortress. Professor Holiday’s home and lab.
I couldn’t have stopped myself even if I’d tried. Suddenly, I was at the side entrance—the same one I’d watched Chancellor Morgen pound on more than once—my Majekah sparking at my fingertips.
“No!” Brody’s body slammed into me, and I went sprawling onto the damp path. Pain bit into my shoulder as I came to a stop on a statue that promptly fell over.
“Quinn, what are you doing?” Brody’s shadow fell over me.
It took me a moment to orient myself. Whatever drew me to the door still clung to my brain. I pushed up to a seated position. My Majekah flowed, and I pulled my hands into my chest so I couldn’t touch anything. What had I been doing?
Brody’s shadow moved again, and I stiffened. Brody.
“Quinn, are you okay?” Brody kneeled in front of me and put his hands on my biceps, exactly where Rowan and Cayden had gripped me.
“I’ll make sure you’re okay. They can’t keep us apart.
Your roommate reported me to Hope.” He scowled.
“My work-study’s limited to office duties, only until I can prove I wasn’t doing anything wrong. Which I wasn’t. You need me.”
I focused on breathing, acutely aware of the empty courtyard.
He smiled at me and stood with his hand out. “Let’s get you up.”
A spot of olive oil magic shimmered on his palm. I swallowed hard, remembering his demonstration when we first met. I couldn’t let him touch me.
His gaze followed mine, and he pushed his hand closer to me. “It will just help with the pain, I promise.”
He’d used his magic on his sister; there was no reason he’d hold back for me. I didn’t trust him, and even if I did, I didn’t trust myself. I hadn’t touched anyone with my Majekah since the park ranger.
I got to my own feet.
Brody’s face darkened, and he curled his fist. “You’re spending all your time with those guys. They don’t have your best interests at heart. You’re not precious to them, like you are to me.”
I took a step away from Brody, then another. “You’re stalking me, Brody. This isn’t okay.”
“I’m your protector,” he stressed. “What if I’m not watching you next time?”
I took two more steps. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“My sister wasn’t.” Brody balled his hand and thumped his chest. “I followed her to that house. She said he made her happy, but he didn’t.
I knew it even if she wouldn’t admit it.
” He rubbed his chest, a desperate note bleeding into his anger.
“My big sister doted on me. She loved me. She wasn’t fertile.
She had no reason to leave the family. But that man convinced her to.
She left me and everything she loved. I had to save her, just like I have to save you. ”
I bit my lips together to keep from asking if Brody was listening to his own story.
It sure as hell sounded like his sister had found someone who brought her joy, and her brother had lost his mind instead of being happy for her.
But I wouldn’t ask. The more interest I showed, the more I’d feed his delusion.
I took two more steps. He didn’t follow, so I turned, hopeful someone had walked into the Square, but it remained empty.
“You’re not going to thank me?” Brody trotted to my side.
I started walking for real, and he matched my pace.
Fear cinched tight behind my ribs.
“Thank you,” I said, trying to keep him happy.
Brody beamed and relaxed his shoulders. “You’re welcome.”
I increased my pace. So did Brody.
Wicked Wich was right on the corner. People had to be there.
I rushed to the front of the building, but there was no movement, and the door was shut.
What had I missed? Left would take me to the library, and right to The Rooster.
I was sure to find people at The Rooster.
Or not. What if it was just Matt or dark like Wicked Wich?
I took a sharp left toward the library. Brody turned as well.
The staff there weren’t holding my TB hostage. Halfway to the library, I still hadn’t seen another soul. “Where is everyone?”
“If you’d let me help you, you would know,” Brody said casually.
Unease twisted my stomach, and my walk virtually became a run. Brody matched my pace and reached for my hand. I veered off, suddenly not caring if it upset him, and raced for my dorm. As my door came into view, his steps slowed.
“It’s okay to be scared, Quinn,” Brody called. “I can wait. We’ll be together. Your fear’s pulling us closer; I can feel it. I love you, Quinn.”
Magic seeped into my legs, and I once again found myself running like a cartoon character. I hit my building hard and almost tore the magic scanner off its hinges. The stairs up to my tower went by in a blur. Suddenly, I stood on my landing, panting.
The sounds of cursing and people shuffling came from above. I gave myself a full minute to memorize the sensation in my legs, catch my breath, and let Erick’s newest girl throw some clothing on, before heading up.
To my surprise, Erick did not have a woman pinned to our couch. Instead, he lounged on it with two other men. A clear bottle of liquid sat on a side table, with a third of it already gone.
“Ah, Quinn, my sister, care for a drink?” Erick gave me a sleazy grin. “I have some friends who would love to meet you.”
These weren’t his usual dalliances. A puffy red mark covered the upper left of a massive bald man’s head. The other held a full cup in his manicured fingers. A droopy brown cloak covered his face. I swear a single familiar forest-green eye looked at me curiously.
When he saw me looking, he motioned forward with his cup as if offering it to me. I groaned, not wanting to deal with this.
Erick sat up and studied me. “Didn’t you have a tag-along this afternoon? Why does it look like you were running?”
I gritted my teeth. “I was running from Brody.”
I stomped into our kitchen and helped myself to some water.
The sound of people standing came from behind me.
“You don’t have to stop on my account.” I took a gulp, and the cold liquid eased the burn in my stomach. “I probably won’t understand what you’re doing anyway.”
Someone scoffed.
A knock sounded at my door. The bald man moved his hand to a massive, serrated knife at his belt, and Erick stepped forward, smoothly covering the motion.
“Get the door, Quinn,” Erick commanded evenly.