Page 5 of Quintus

As the bathroom door shut, she released an audible breath. She gingerly shoved to her feet, realizing that her mind had gone calm. Quintus Tullius. Her intuition told her that no matter what happened, her life would forever be changed. Giving him her blood had altered the course of the universe, and the Goddess would determine the future.

Gabriella wrapped the warm towel around her, and approached the window. Although the vampire had warned her he’d locked his wards, she hoped she could hijack an opening, and slip through a loophole. She closed her eyes, conjuring the magick within. Despite her weakened state, a slight spark twisted through her body. As she focused her power, her magick blanketed over the wards like water dousing a flame. She heard the crackling of the locks as she tensed, determined to break free. But her hopes were dashed as a shock sizzled her fingertips. She broke the connections, swearing out loud in frustration.

“Dammit to hell.” Gabriella blew out a breath.

As she stepped into the bedroom, she spied the black terrycloth robe lying on the bed. Cream-colored walls trailed up to the fifteen-foot ceiling; an intricate crown molding edged its perimeter. She ran her hand over the cool walnut post of the canopy bed. Swathes of white linen draped over its beams and dusted down onto the floor.

Gabriella reached for the soft cotton robe and pressed her hands into the arms, then tied it tight around her waist. Lifting the lapels to her nose, she inhaled his masculine sandalwood scent. Something about this vampire…so much more than what she’d expected, both soothed and frightened her all at once. She sighed and reminded herself that this was a simple business transaction. She saved his life. He owed her. It was as simple as that.

Her stomach tightened, aware she’d been late delivering her blood to Ramiel. She’d have to convince Quintus to release her, promise she’d return to his home.

Gabriella opened the door, and peered into the hallway. Quietly, she stepped toward the landing. As she slowly made her way down the stairs, she heard the male voices and froze. Flattening her back against the wall in the foyer, she quietly listened. Her heart sped, regretting her decision to save Quintus. He’d gone to one of his own, betraying her. Barely dressed and unable to escape his wards, she’d have to fight for her life. It wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last.

She scanned the living room, her eyes going to an ancient sword that hung on his wall. As she reached for it and her hands wrapped around its hilt, she felt vampire magick rush into the room. Gabriella whipped the weapon toward the energy, the blade slicing through the stranger’s shirt. Her gaze rose to meet his and her heart pounded in her chest at the sight of the tall blond vampire. Her eyes darted to the torn fabric, a thin red line bubbling over his abdomen. His fangs dropped, and his eyes lit with amusement as he laughed.

Terrified, she raised the sword above her head, and squealed as a muscled arm clamped around her waist. Strong fingers applied pressure into her wrist, taking her to the edge of pain and forcing her to drop the blade. The loud clank was offset by the whisper in her ear. “No, bella. What are you doing? Such a fiery little witch you are.”

The blond vampire’s wounds appeared to heal before her eyes and Gabriella sucked a breath, panic burning through her. She attempted to jerk free but Quintus held firm.

“Let me go,” she grunted, her eyes trained on the Nordic vampire.

“Calm down, little one. This one is a friend. Gabriella. Meet Viktor. My brother.”

Chapter Three

As Quintus prepared the meal, he attempted to rein in his spiraling thoughts. Whether a coincidental stroke of luck or a deliberate act, Gabriella’s gift of her magical blood had saved his life. Awakening on the cold slab in the crypt, he’d committed to repaying her. He’d sensed her pain, and suspected whatever shit she was in, she was in deep. Although the temptation to bite her had been great, he’d restrained himself. He chalked up his spiraling desire for the little witch to the poison, and grew convinced that whatever seeds of feelings had sprouted, he should ignore them.

His stomach clenched in hunger as he opened the refrigerator, searching for milk. Shit. Being gone for a few weeks, he’d forgotten to call on his local butler to restock the perishables. Discovering a carton of eggs hidden on a shelf, he shrugged and carried on with his task.

A feral thirst for blood twisted through him as he searched through the pantry, not entirely sure what else he was looking for. He’d already texted for a donor, and she was expected shortly. Although Gabriella required sustenance, human food wasn’t a necessity for him. Rather he simply enjoyed the emotional comfort of a home-cooked meal, reminding him of his human existence.

He fired on the gas stove and set a skillet onto the burner. As he went to reach for a knife, his instincts flared, recognizing the vampire. Viktor Christiansen. Unrelated by blood, Viktor and Quintus had been turned within days of each other. They’d become sired brothers by chance, friends by choice. Subjected to torture by their brutal master, the fledgling vampires had survived only with the support of one another.

“What brings you to New Orleans?” Quintus asked, waving his hand in the air with a smile.

“Just coming to check on you, man. Last thing I knew you were in New York. Gone missing. Of course there’re stories. Had to see for myself.”

“I love a good story.” He turned and smiled at him, wiggling his eyebrows, but his levity was met with a cold stare. “What? I’m alive.”

“Rumor on the streets had you dead.”

“Well, they’re wrong. Better than ever.” He sliced off a chunk of butter and tapped it into the pan. It immediately sizzled, smoke twirling up into the air.

“Cut the shit, Quint. You’ve been missing for weeks.”

“I was busy. You knew that when I left New York.”

“I called for you and you didn’t answer. What am I supposed to think?” His voice went soft as he approached. “Stop fucking with me.”

“Something happened,” Quintus said with indifference.

“Jake said you were poisoned.” Viktor craned his head to check out what Quintus was cooking.

“You went to the Alpha?” Quintus asked, shaking his head with a small laugh. He’d expected his brother would search high and low for him. Although they often fought, they’d kill for each other.

“Fuck yeah, I went to Jake. But the thing is he didn’t have a clue where the hell you went. I knew you weren’t in the city, so I went to the next place I thought you’d go. And here I am.”

“It’s always been home.” Quintus shrugged. He owned several properties across the globe but he’d made New Orleans home long ago.