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The rain began to splatter across the windshield as we entered the Mt. Macedon township. Quinn glanced at me, eyebrow raised in question.
"Go on," I said. "I don't care if it rains. Besides, I'm a wolf. We don't feel the cold."
"Werewolves mightn't, but you do."
He had a good memory. I'd only mentioned that once, in passing. "Maybe. But right now, I need to run more than I need to keep warm."
He nodded, and continued on up the mountain. We entered the park, and stopped in the bays closest to the trees. There were maybe a dozen other cars here, and most of those were parked up near the Old Tea Rooms restaurant. I climbed out. The wind tore at my dress and hair, touching my skin with chill reminders of the winter just passed. I shivered, and glanced across the roof of the car at Quinn. "This could take a while."
"Be careful," was all he said.
I nodded, then stripped off my clothes, placing them in the car before calling to the wildness within. In wolf form, I headed for the trees, and just kept on running through the ferny undergrowth. I wasn't really thinking, just letting the night, the cold, and the storm run over my body. Letting the electricity that danced through the thunderous skies clear the cobwebs and confusion from my mind.
I ran for hours. Ran until my limbs were beginning to shake with tiredness, and my tongue lolled so far out of my mouth I'd swear it was about to drag the ground. Ran until the storm had swept past, and the clean scent of wet earth mingled with eucalyptus on the night air. Even then, I didn't head back immediately to the car, but rather changed to human form and headed for the huge memorial cross that was the centerpiece of the park.
Sitting on the steps, my back to the cross, I hugged my knees close to my chest, trying to keep warm as I stared at the lights that stretched like a twinkling carpet far in the distance.
Within a few minutes, the warm scent of sandalwood mingled with the fresh aromas of the night. He handed me my dress without comment. Once I'd put it on, he placed a leather jacket across my shoulders and sat on the step beside me, a shadow whose heat I could feel even though we weren't touching.
"I've booked a table in the restaurant, if you wish something to eat," he said, after a moment.
"I might." I slipped my arms inside the jacket and zipped it up. It smelled of leather and man, and stirred me in a hundred different ways. Which was scary, because I really couldn't afford to fall for this vampire any more than I already had.
"And have you fallen for me, Riley Jensen?"
I glanced at him sharply. "Two days ago you said you could only catch my thoughts when I was in pain or during passion. So how come you're reading them now?"
His gaze, when it met mine, was flat and uncompromising. "We've shared blood, remember. I did warn you that makes me more attuned to unguarded thoughts."
I looked away. "Then I must remember to guard my thoughts at all times."
"Perhaps you should, if you don't want me reading them."
"You could be a gentleman, and not intrude."
"I could. But given the fact our talks so far have gotten interrupted for various reasons, intruding on your thoughts is my only way of getting information."
He obviously hadn't read too much, then, or he probably wouldn't be sitting there so calmly. I chewed my lip, watching the twinkling carpet of lights, trying not to think of anything in particular.
Yet a decision had to be made. Here. Tonight. Because if I went back to Jack, he'd make it for me. Though, considering he wanted me as a guardian, I doubt he'd want me pregnant.
"Tell me what causes you such anguish," Quinn demanded softly.
I briefly contemplated the wisdom of not telling him, but in the end, he had the right to know. It did involve him - us - in some respects.
"You're not going to like it," I hedged.
He reached out, his hand twining in mine, wrapping my fingers in heat and courage. "Tell me."
So I did. About what the doctor had said. About Misha. About the decision I'd come up here to make.
He was silent for a long time. When he finally spoke, his voice was as emotionless as ever. Yet his dark eyes held echoes of pain as his gaze met mine.
"Rhoan told you about Eryn, didn't he?"
Eryn was the wolf Quinn had been engaged to six months before I'd met him. A wolf who had used a drug to snare and keep him. A wolf who had confirmed his opinion that all wolves were whores.
"Rhoan hasn't said anything about Eryn." I studied him for a moment. "How does she fit in with the decision I have to make?"
