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Being a third mark apparently didn't give him healing powers as rapid as Selene's, but he could already tell the stripes Laurent had placed on him were knitting, which explained why each move felt as if he was ripping them anew, even if he wasn't.
When he fell into the seat, feeling the weight of exhaustion and stress pulling down on him, as well as a hundred things he didn't want to relive in his mind, he discovered a welcome distraction.
Sam.
The SUV was a custom setup, with seats facing one another like a limo, so the shaman was across from him, dressed in his usual faded jeans and a T-shirt with a Starbuck's logo. The guy always had possessed a wicked sense of irony. "Sam."
That one word, and it meant everything.
When Sam met his gaze, Quinn saw a weariness in his face that matched his own. It flooded back to him then--the feeling of being pulled away from the mind-shattering pain, Laurent's hesitation, his puzzled look as he reached out, as if to touch some invisible force around Quinn. The way Quinn had stopped feeling the whip at a certain point, thinking that maybe he'd just gotten so lost in the pain haze that it all felt the same. He remembered Selene, the night she'd third marked him, talking about how he'd already been marked by someone else for his own protection...
How had Sam known? But there was probably no straight answer to that question, any more than there had been to the ones he'd asked in his youth. He just pushed them out of his mind and embraced the tranquility the man infused him with.
"Sam. God." He clasped the man's hand with both his own and Sam's face creased into a tired smile. "What are you doing here? How did you get here?"
"I had a sense you needed me. I was a little late. Sometimes I think the spirits are in the wrong time zone when they give me visions. Perhaps they're on Eastern Standard Time." The shaman frowned, as if he actually intended to take up that grievance with the spirit world. "But fortunately, your lady was just waking when I got to the bar. Your friends intercepted us along the way." He nodded out the window toward Butch and Dix, who were sitting in the other SUV with the windows down, waiting on Laurent and company to be loaded up.
Quinn looked at Selene, who nodded. "He said he could help."
"He did. Christ, he did. I...I was about to lose my mind."
"It was awful." Selene shook her head, the falter in her voice saying that didn't even cover it. Quinn had to agree with that, but all he cared about was her touch as she closed her hands around his arm, a link of love and comradeship. "The pain you were feeling..."
Oh God, he hadn't even thought about it. She would have felt all of it because of their link. Unless she'd blocked it, and he knew she wouldn't have. She'd experienced his every thought, every feeling. Letting go of Sam, he covered her hands with one of his.
"It wasn't the pain that broke me, Mistress. It was knowing I'd betrayed you."
Her head snapped up as if he'd struck her. "What?"
"I didn't trust you, like you said I should." Quinn forced out the words, swallowing a boatload of pride. "I was going to be the typical guy, running off to avenge your honor. Dix tried to tell me, to help me to understand. But I failed you in every way. If it wasn't for Butch and Dix, Sam--hell, your own courage and smarts--you would have ended up back under the thumb of that bastard, thanks to me. The exact opposite of what I intended."
"Oh Quinn." Reaching up, she cupped his jaw. "Yes, you fucked up. But so did I. We're still learning how all this works, you and me. In our world, our world," she emphasized, making it clear she considered him part of it too, "things like this happen. It's awful, and terrible, but we learn. You saw it, between Butch and Laurent. Laurent would have killed him if he could, but when Butch won, it was over. Laurent was angry, but he accepted the verdict. The Region Masters have made their decision. I won't ever risk going into Laurent's territory again," she made a face at that, "but he won't be coming after me outside it."
"There goes my lifelong dream to see the Rockettes."
Selene slanted him a glance. Though her eyes softened marginally at his weak attempt at humor, when she spoke, her voice was firm. "The matter is over."
He looked toward Sam. "Just like that."
"You will grieve for what you have lost," the old man said quietly. "Whenever a soul is brutalized, cleansing and healing must happen. But you are strong, Quinn. You learn from the past and the present, but you do not let it dictate your future. You let it guide you, inspire you and instruct you only. You know where to go to find the quiet you need."
Quinn met his gaze. "Yeah. I do. But what about you?"
The man's face creased in a smile. "When we get to the ranch, I will tell Annette to put me up in a guestroom for a couple days and feed me. That you said it must be so."
Quinn snorted, though the chuckle hurt his ribs. "As much as I'd like to be a fly on the wall to see that conversation," his attention turned to Selene, "you're right. There's somewhere else I need to go. Will you come with me, Mistress?"
When he offered her the image in his head, it wasn't a place she'd seen before, but her response was immediate.
"Yes, Quinn."
A gaping hole was in his heart right now, but the gift of her trust spread out over it like a healing balm. He tightened his hand on hers.
"Good."
*
A hundred years ago, one of the earliest owners of the Last Chance Ranch had built the first structure on it, a little two-room cabin located on the western edge of the property, near a pretty watering hole. It had never been torn down, occasionally used as a line shack for the cowboys working the land. But when Quinn bought the ranch and discovered it, he'd had it restored and upgraded so that he could stay there sometimes. Sam had pointed out it could be his private place to go when he needed a place away from everything. It just so happened to rest on that magical fault line. Maybe that was why it always felt so peaceful there.
Even better for Quinn's current purposes, the cabin had a cool cellar beneath it that he was sure had once been used to s
tore perishable foods or allow working cowboys a place of respite from the summer heat. With the latter idea guiding him, he'd had the cellar turned into an additional living space. The walls were finished and sealed, but the area always smelled pleasantly of cool earth.
He'd put a cot and a reading chair down there, while the upper floor had a more cozy bed and a functioning kitchen with some basic supplies. A generator supplied electricity that fueled the small bathroom and shower.
They'd dropped Sam off at the main house as planned. That was when Quinn realized he didn't have the energy to get out of the vehicle. It was more than the physical toll. He didn't want to see anyone else right now. But he needed to get some basic supplies to ensure his Mistress' comfort at the cabin.
About the time he was about to kick himself in the ass to get it out of the car, Selene placed a quelling hand on his thigh, a nonverbal gesture to stay. As if his Mistress read his mind--and he guessed she'd had--she opened her car door. Before he could protest, she was gone. Jim and Moe fiddled with the radio, talking quietly. Obviously used to displays of vampire speed, they accepted her flash disappearance without comment. Less than a couple minutes later she was back, Quinn's overnight bag from his closet on the floorboards between them.
"Annette will have one of the hands drive a vehicle down to leave for you when you're ready to return. Sam is going to handle filling her in on the things she needs to know."
It was new, her caring for him. Well, maybe not. In a way, she'd been caring for him from the first, helping him with needs he hadn't known how to express. Right now, though, a numbness was settling on him, preferable to feeling or awareness, because whenever he reached for awareness, he saw too many bad things. Selene beaten beyond what anyone should endure... Laurent reaching for Quinn's cock, his breath on Quinn's jaw. Quinn's inability to prevent his own orgasm. Laurent's erection pressed firmly against Quinn's bare thigh, the vampire almost humping his leg while he came.
He shuddered. "Stop the car."
He barely made it out, retching out everything he expected he'd eaten for days. The violence of his convulsions, the agony they shot through him, drove him to his knees. When he surfaced, Selene was there, her hand on his head, stroking his hair. He felt her pain for him, for all of it. When he was all done, his head was down and he was trembling. He was better than this, stronger than this. He needed to get up. He should be able to do it, with the blood she'd given him.
