CHAPTER SEVENTEEN || THIERRY
Q uinn woke up again right before we got to Nathaniel’s Place.
“He’s a screamer,” Jeremy commented mildly.
“Indeed,” I replied grimly. I directed him to pull right up to the entrance of the bar. “Next time, remind me to bring a ball gag.”
He gave me a sideways look. “Do you own a ball gag?”
I didn’t, actually, but I batted my lashes at him innocently anyway. “What do you think?”
Jeremy rolled his eyes and shook his head, the ghost of a smile on his lips.
I wished he would knock that sort of thing off.
Before I could set the wolf straight, our captive began yelling again. “Help! Anyone! Please! They’ve got me tied up!”
Jeremy sighed, rubbing his temples. “You ought to break his neck again. And, for the record, I’m picking the activity next time.”
I ignored that last part. But he wasn’t wrong about incapacitating the vampire.
Carrying a chained-up, struggling creature of darkness, bound head-to-toe with silver, into Nathaniel’s Place wasn’t exactly discreet.
Once I broke his neck, we could unbind him and carry him in with one of his arms slung over each of our shoulders.
To anyone watching, we’d look like very good friends, getting him home safely after way too many drinks.
“Fine,” I said, unbuckling myself. I opened the door and walked at human speed for the benefit of any poor mortal who might glance out their window and see something they couldn’t explain.
When I made it around to the back of the vehicle, Jeremy popped open the rear door, revealing the struggling attendant.
His chin was still covered in dried blood, but he stopped screaming immediately, eyes wide and pleading, like he was terrified of me.
Inwardly, I rolled my eyes. The victim act might’ve worked on the average mundane mortal, but I certainly wasn’t that.
“Hello, sunshine,” I said brightly, winking. “Time for another nighty-night.”
The transformation was instant. Wide-eyed fear vanished, replaced with murderous rage.
Even bound in silver, he lunged at me—about as threatening as a caterpillar struggling to break free of its cocoon.
When he couldn’t reach me, Quinn’s fangs dropped and he snarled, lips contorting like a wild dog ready to rip its prey apart.
His gaze was empty, devoid of anything resembling human emotion.
“There he is,” I said, my voice deceptively soft.
Then, lightning quick, I reached out and snapped his neck.
“Think anyone heard that?” Jeremy muttered as he exited the vehicle, casting a wary glance at the surrounding apartment buildings. “Pretty sure it echoed. Twice.”
“This is the middle of the city. The neighbors will assume it’s a bad drug trip and ignore it.”
“I meant the very loud, unmistakable sound of bones snapping,” Jeremy said, staring at me. “Also, remind me to take you to the commune sometime. It’s quiet. Peaceful. Very few folks having a bad drug trip. Just a whole lot of trees.”
I thought immediately of the grassy fields behind the church, the narrow stretch of woods, and my childhood home on the other side.
In the midday hours, between services, with everything hushed and expectant, it had seemed like a place just for us, both magical and liminal.
As though Nicolas and I were the only people in the whole world and anything at all could happen.
The longing struck so suddenly and sharply that it almost felt physical, a savage blow to my chest.
Naturally, I compensated by shooting Jeremy an angry look—or at least, I hoped it was angry. “And what makes you think I even like the quiet?”
He sighed, exasperated. “Right. You love the sound of sirens and the ear-piercing wailing of the damned. Reminds you of home. I keep forgetting.”
His sarcasm was cutting when he opted to use it. A man after my own heart. Except, absolutely not.
I pursed my lips, nodding to Quinn’s unconscious form. “Do you mind terribly if we focus on the body at hand?”
He rolled his eyes but helped me unbind the vampire. We half-carried, half-dragged him around the side of the building and unlocked the back door.
Pierce was waiting. His amber eyes narrowed at Jeremy in instant fury before raking to me. “What the hell is he doing here?”
“The wolf has a nasty habit of following me around,” I replied lightly.
“You shouldn’t have given me a treat when we first met.”
It was impossible to miss the double meaning in Jeremy’s words. I gritted my teeth and ignored it in favor of the bigger problem.
I didn’t like this setup one bit. In case Pierce couldn’t control himself around Jeremy, I needed my hands free. Immediately.
Before I could speak, Jeremy’s grip on the vampire tightened and he eased the arm off my shoulder, taking control of the body.
“Down you go,” he muttered, lowering Quinn to the floor, where he sagged like a rag doll. The wolf’s voice was surprisingly gentle, like he really was settling a friend who’d had too much to drink. As though he believed the real Quinn was still in there.
It was a huge shift from how he’d been twenty-four hours ago, and my traitorous heart gave a little lurch.
Pierce’s glare intensified. He’d just lost the chance for violence, and he clearly knew it. Arms crossed, maybe to keep from using them on the wolf, he seethed. I could empathize. Jeremy had that effect on people.
“He’s not staying here.”
“Don’t be dramatic,” I drawled. Nathaniel and James would both be unhappy if I murdered Pierce, so I’d have to settle for maiming him if it came to that. In syrupy tones, I added, “He’ll stay next door. There are empty units.”
But I stepped in front of Jeremy anyway. If Pierce wanted the wolf, he’d have to go through me.
Jeremy gave me a strange look—startled, oddly tender—which meant he’d caught my thoughts again. The bastard.
Pierce’s eyes widened, and his lips curled in distaste. “Sadie called and said you’d met your mate, but I didn’t believe it. How could you be mated to him ?”
I shot Jeremy a murderous glare. This was his fault. If Pierce knew, everyone knew. To his credit, the wolf didn’t even flinch.
“Ask the universe,” I muttered to Pierce. “This wasn’t my idea, was it?”
“I mean, it literally was,” Pierce said, smirking at me, his eyes dancing. “You bullied Poppy into doing the spell to conjure him. I didn’t picture your type as ‘big dumb oaf,’ but—”
“Jeremy isn’t stupid,” I said automatically, anger unfurling in my chest.
It was hard to say who was more surprised by my statement—Pierce, Jeremy, or me. But it was true. The wolf was many things, but not stupid. I was merely stating a fact. Definitely not feeling a bone-deep impulse to protect him. Definitely not. Emphatically not.
Jeremy’s lips parted, gaze locking on mine, surprise softening into something far more dangerous. Exactly as though he’d heard more than he should.
Because of course he had.
Pierce was watching, fury tightening his features. He raised a finger in warning. “If he so much as looks at James wrong, I’ll—”
“You won’t need to do anything!” I cut in. “If the wolf harms James, it’ll be the very last thing he does.”
Pierce scowled but went silent. He knew I’d defend James with my life—even against Jeremy, who had gone strangely quiet. Smart wolf.
“He’s not going to harm James,” I said, sighing. “He’s probably going to be fixated elsewhere.”
Pierce’s gaze slid back to Jeremy, who stood inches from me, practically quivering with tension, ready to launch himself in front of me. His eyes narrowed. “If you try anything—”
“You’ll gut him good and proper,” I said, more prosaically than I felt. Gesturing to the unconscious vampire, I added, “Now, be a doll and take our friend downstairs before he wakes up and starts screaming again. He’s loud.”
“This one’s from Rookwood?” Pierce asked, frowning down at Quinn. “He looks like an extra in a bad horror movie.”
“That’s about right.”
Pierce sighed. “I’ll call Poppy. The sooner you do this, the sooner we find out what happened there.”
“No one needs to question anyone yet,” I said lightly. “That can wait until tomorrow.”
Pierce’s frown deepened. “Why not tonight?”
“We’re tired,” Jeremy said. “It was a long drive.”
Pierce’s brows shot up at that casual we . His gaze bounced between us, lingering on our proximity.
“We need to know what happened in that town,” he pressed.
I knew exactly what happened. I was just avoiding saying—or even thinking—the name of a certain ancient vampire from my past.
“Sure,” I said. “We’ll discuss it in the morning.”
“It can wait until the morning,” Jeremy echoed, speaking at the exact same time as me. Then, making it even worse, he added, “Thierry needs to sleep. And eat. He gets grumpy.”
I closed my eyes and counted to ten. If the ground had swallowed me whole, I wouldn’t have minded.
When I opened them, Pierce was staring in disbelief. “You two are blood-bonded? Already? How?”
“You needn’t worry about it!” I snapped. “Just handle the unconscious vampire while I get the wolf tucked into bed, safe and sound, and away from here.” I shot Jeremy a murderous look. “And you. Stop talking.”
Pierce’s disbelief lingered, but then his gaze dropped to Quinn, distaste tightening his features. Fair—between the hideous polyester uniform, the dried blood, and the dirt everywhere, the guy was a mess.
“I violently dislike you,” Pierce said offhandedly, glancing back up at me. “You do know that, right?”
“It’s practically your love language,” I replied sweetly, relieved he’d decided to let it go. For now.
Pierce sighed, then scooped Quinn up one-handed, slinging him over his shoulder like he weighed nothing. Muttering profanity, he carried him downstairs to be safely chained up.
I didn’t follow. Pierce would see to it that Quinn was secure for the evening.
Jeremy fell into step beside me as I turned on my heel and left the bar, seething. I locked the door behind us. He stayed silent as I led him to the apartment building next door. The unit I had in mind was on the top floor, fully furnished, mostly for guests of Nathaniel’s.
I unlocked the door and stepped inside.
My anger had already subsided—I was having an irritatingly hard time staying mad—and we both stood there, just inside the threshold. Silence settled, awkward and heavy. Rationally, I knew I should leave, but my feet felt glued in place.
“Well, this is it,” I said pointedly when it became clear he wasn’t going to speak. “Home sweet home. Touch nothing. Everything here costs way more than you can afford.”
But I was suddenly very aware that we were alone, with a big, fluffy bed not twenty feet away. We could do anything. We could even make some very bad choices if we were so inclined.
“No. Not yet,” Jeremy said softly, meeting my gaze. “I’m not giving you an excuse to shove me away. I can be a jackass sometimes, but I’m not dumb.”
“I hardly need an excuse,” I said loftily, relief and disappointment crashing together. “I’m just grateful Pierce didn’t rip you to shreds.”
“Careful, it almost sounds like you care.”
“It would have stained my clothing,” I said, stepping back. “This suit’s designer—it probably costs more than your entire commune.” When he said nothing, still watching me, I added, “Besides, spending hours helping Pierce clean bits of wolf off the floor would’ve ruined my night.”
“You defended me back there,” he said softly.
“I kept Pierce focused on the task at hand.”
“You saddled him with taking Quinn so he’d leave.” Jeremy paused. “Do you think he’ll be alright?”
“Pierce will be fine.”
“I know. Not who I was talking about.”
Surprise rippled through me. “You meant Quinn.”
Jeremy shrugged. “He didn’t ask for this, did he? And tomorrow we’re bringing him back. When that happens, is he going to be okay? When he’s a person again?”
I stared, suddenly too something to speak. It was easier to despise him when I thought he was a two-dimensional wolf who hated vampires on principle. But here he was, talking about Quinn as though it was a given that he’d be a person again.
But what had he told me before? He had been raised to think of vampires as monsters. How on earth could he let go of his teachings so easily? How could he reject what he had been raised to believe?
“You know how,” Jeremy whispered, gaze locked on mine. “My pack was wrong. I was wrong.”
I swallowed and took another step back. I wasn’t risking close proximity.
“I’m not leaving tomorrow,” he added. “You know that, right? I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re okay.”
“I’m fine,” I said reflexively. “Nothing for you to worry your wolfy little head about.”
“Thierry.”
The way he said my name—firm, gentle, dangerous —it gave me no anger to hold onto. In fact, it felt ominously like an invitation to be real with him.
Before he could say anything else that might get us both into trouble, I turned and left him standing in the threshold, staring after me.