Chapter 25 Quinn
Quinn
The winter sun tried to push through the clouds.
Cobblestones and damp crooked medieval buildings lined The Royal Mile like the set of a period drama.
It was just Cayden, Rowan, me, Everly, and Hero out walking today.
Groups came in and out of stores. A trio of unsteady men, dressed in studded leather and tinkling chains, tossed a glass bottle against some red graffiti. It shattered, and the three laughed.
I practically danced behind my friends as I took it all in.
The Mile, like The Green, was neutral, unpoliced, but mostly civil. I hadn’t asked to leave. Xan said I could come and go as I pleased, and the guards hadn’t blinked; another point in the Architect’s favor.
“Asymmetrical hems are in right now,” Everly said, pointing at a woman in a miniskirt and tweed jacket. “She has to be visiting from the dales.”
I nodded as if I knew exactly where that was.
“And trainers, which will be ideal for the ceilidh,” Everly continued. “Apparently, the Adler Michelsons unearthed a shipping container of Nikes, and anyone who is anyone has gotten their hands on a pair.”
Collectible trainers were a thing in my time, too, so maybe that shouldn’t have surprised me. I had no idea what a ‘ceilidh’ was, but as this was a shopping trip for Xan’s Mixer, I would bet it was a type of party.
“Including you?” Cayden asked, walking just a few feet from me with his hands in his pockets.
Everly sighed dramatically. “My dad is dangling the prospect over my head. But there will be a price, and I’m willing to bet the exchange will include my early return home.”
“Feck that.” Brit punched her fist into her palm.
Before I could agree, one of the half-formed tethers in my back twisted, making me stumble. Rowan was at my side instantly, and he pressed his hand exactly on the spot.
I wasn’t used to just one of the half-formed tethers acting up like that, but the sensation stopped immediately, while the heat of Rowan’s hand remained. I raised an eyebrow and looked up at the underside of his square jaw. Damn, even that was handsome.
“Unique spot to catch my balance there,” I said dryly.
“The cobblestones are slick this morning.” Rowan slid his hand around to my waist. “Um, from the rain.”
I popped my lips, not hiding my disbelief in the slightest.
Rowan pulled me closer, making Cayden step back and scowl at him.
“It’ll be okay,” Rowan promised. “Ah. How was your extra session with Xan and Ezra last night?”
Rowan’s pink cheeks clashed with the dark scruff on his chin, making his flush impossible to miss. My evening of very dirty, extended foreplay surged through my memory, and my core throbbed in response.
“Clinical,” I responded, knowing he felt the opposite coming through the tether. “Strictly educational.”
The big elemental felt every heated touch.
He wouldn’t know it was Ezra on my thighs or Xan on my neck, just the fire, and maybe a phantom echo on his own skin.
The thought alone made my center clench.
A drip of arousal dampened my underwear.
XanRa was getting bolder, but they always stopped short, like my orgasm would cross a line they weren’t ready for.
I took a step, and friction sent a jolt of pleasure straight through me.
Rowan’s foot slid and caught on a cobblestone.
I scowled dramatically. “Sorry, I already took two cold showers; what do you want from me?!”
The big elemental’s eyes flew wide. Panic made his muscles quiver beautifully.
I cackled.
His panic was very short-lived. In one swift step, he darted forward and wrapped a thick arm around my waist. He pinned me with one arm and let the other trail down, his fingers brushing under my thighs, heat rising in their wake.
“They leave you unsatisfied, Quinn.” He sucked my earlobe into his mouth. “Do you want me to finish what they started, like last time?”
Heat curled in my stomach. I squirmed. This was not Rowan’s usual fumbling excuse. This was him admitting he felt everything.
A stream of cold water hitting my head and running down my back made me scream, and not with pleasure.
Hero grinned, and his dark red magic gathered another blob of water from a nearby puddle.
He floated it above our heads. After a nod from his twin, he released his second stream of revenge with a glee only friendly, bitter rivals could genuinely understand.
Cold sliced through me, chasing the heat from my core and rattling my teeth. Rowan gently dropped me as best he could in his shock.
“It’s not official.” Everly pointed at Rowan. “No one’s announced your ended contract yet. And you!” She pointed at me. “Everyone has shipped you and the Architect together. Do you really want to bring additional hate down on Rowan by humping him in the middle of The Royal Mile?”
Two men in plain brown tunics stared openly, but the rest of the crowd ignored us, unless someone watched from the buildings above, out of sight.
“She’s—” Rowan started to say and clamped his mouth shut.
Oh, I badly wanted him to finish. But not here. Everly was right. Cayden slipped between Rowan and me. Our little group started walking again, and I let myself drip until I had complete control over my rushing hormones once more.
“No Intentions still, right?” Everly asked, already knowing the answer. “I know ours went out. Erick said his family sent one.” Everly snorted. “I bet it arrived in a Nike shoe.”
I scrunched up my nose.
“The Architect’s keeping them from you, and that’s not going to go over well at his Mixer,” Everly continued. “Even if he doesn’t cough them up, we’re going to make sure you look absolutely edible and very available. I want your stack of Intentions to be taller than you by the end of it.”
“How many families are there?” I asked, trying to picture that.
“Plenty.” Everly clapped. “Options, babe. If I can’t have them, you will.”
That sobered me. Though Everly charged forward toward a colorful building painted like an Easter egg, her frustration vibrated the air. She had less than nine months left of her year of freedom to do everything she wanted, when she should have the rest of her life.
We filed into what turned out to be a dress shop.
“Flurr, I’m here!” Everly called.
A short woman with curly carrot-orange hair bouncing around her shoulders skipped out of the back. Two attendees came shortly after her. The sound of bottles of bubbly liquor popped, and someone pushed a glass into my hand.
“Make all of us look our best, even the Lawson.” Everly grinned. “On me, of course.”
Cayden and I exchanged a look. We’d both come ready to chip in. My best friend studied his glass of bubbly critically before taking a sip. “Camel Valley Brut, their reserve, I believe.”
Everly sighed. “I wish I could hate you for knowing your wines so well.”
The two tipped their glasses.
“Open the rosé next. Quinn will like the sweetness,” Cayden told Flurr.
He always put me first, and little moments like this filled me with warmth.
It took us several bottles to get Brit through a dress fitting, and by the end, even the guys had been measured up for whatever counted as formal wear in this time.
Much tipsier than we entered, we left and roamed The Mile.
The farther down we went, the more husks of cars appeared, and the fewer restored buildings stood.
A metal barrel had three gruff men standing around it, who stopped talking to take our measure before seeing our escort and returning to their conversation.
Between buildings, narrow closes—which just looked like narrow alleys—dropped down toward lower levels we couldn’t see.
We came to a stop at a massive wall made of chicken wire, with rocks, rubble and who knew what else piled behind it.
Two guards with metallic hair and dull-orange uniforms stood on either side of a massive structure that, to me, looked like a garage door.
A bleached skull stuck out of the wall, as if trying to unbury itself from the rubble.
Being in Xan’s castle, with its hints of technology and quiet peace, made it easy to forget how rough the world had become.
“The New Palace is behind these walls,” Rowan pointed. “The Abernathy’s territory. They’re our allies.”
A cold shiver ran down my back. They didn’t look like anyone’s allies from here.
Instead of letting fear take me, I reached across Cayden, stole the bottle of bubbly we were still nursing, and took another swig.
“About face!” Everly commanded, turning on her heels. “We have plans for tea in less destitute surroundings.”
Halfway back up The Mile, Everly pulled us into a little bakery, guarded by at least five men in the dull orange I now knew belonged to the Abernathy family. Finger sandwiches and cakes were added to accompany our drinks.
I lost track of the afternoon as we swapped stories of parties from different times. Cayden piped in with a weird one about some ceremonial dance to the Sun God to welcome warmth back into the world each spring.
I scooted closer to my friend, eating up every little bit of his life he was willing to share.
On my other side, Rowan slid closer to me.
Boldly, I slipped my hands around their waists.
It wasn’t my fault. XanRa was conditioning me to love a manwich.
Neither of my friends moved away from me, and my heart did a happy dance.
I laughed—at what? I wasn’t sure—and then we were standing. Shit, I was drunk. I linked my arms with Cayden and Rowan and felt like a little kid between them. I suddenly wanted to see if I could do a flip. But I was an adult… but did I need to be an adult?
Old Quinn had been so boring. New Quinn did flips. I was going to see if I could use them as poles, and spin like I’d never gotten to as a toddler.
My laughter still echoed in my chest when Cayden’s runes began to glow, and everything shifted.
A swarm of gray camo-clad bodies spilled onto The Mile.
My friends let go, and the world tilted. I fought to stay upright.
Drunk, shit.