Page 44 of Quintus

Gabriella’s head spun, considering her own mother’s tendency to collect. Absinthe must have needed him.

“Exactly. You collect it all, don’t you? Wolf hair. Scales from the rarest fish. Vampire fangs. Ingredients saved for a spell you don’t even know you’re going to use.”

“A girl has to be prepared,” Absinthe admitted.

“You know, if I wasn’t so incredibly talented, I might be insulted,” Thorn commented, a wry grin on his face. “Your group is quite interesting. A wolf, a witch and a vampire walked into a bar. Do you know that one?”

“What is he doing here?” Hunter asked, his fists clenched.

“But her…” Thorn’s attention settled on Gabriella. “She’s very unique, isn’t she?”

Gabriella’s stomach clenched as the demon pointed at her. A rush of hot energy blasted towards her, and she closed her eyes, ramming a shield up, forcing it back onto him.

“Ah…that’s lovely. Look what she can do,” the demon laughed. “She’s something all right.”

“She’s a wolf. Now leave her the fuck alone or you’re going to be leaving here in little pieces,” Quintus growled at Thorn, and then turned to Gabriella. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she replied, anger pulsing through her veins. Whatever this creature was doing here was evil. She sensed the wispy edge of a dark intention, but she couldn’t tell if it was truly coming from the demon or from an outside force. The trace amounts of energy lingered around her, and she scented hints of rose petals, leaving her with the impression of a feminine owner.

“You’re not as weak as they perceive you…” Thorn’s words trailed off, waiting on her to provide her name.

“Don’t do that again. Ever.” Gabriella gritted her teeth, refusing to introduce herself.

“You seem quite close to the vampire,” the demon noted. “Come on now, love. Tell me your name.”

“You don’t need to know who she is. All you need to know is that she belongs to me.” Quintus stood, taking Gabriella by the hand. His gaze went to the high priestess. “This meeting’s jumped the rails. Absinthe, I’m going to give you a little piece of advice. Stay away from demons. They’re not good for your health.”

“Half-demon. It’s cool though.” He shrugged, giving a roll of his eyes. “Haters gonna hate.”

“You’re a demon. It’s not like there’s a middle ground. You’re from Hell,” Gabriella shot at him. Her beast paced, her pulse raced faster.

“Thanks for pulling together this party but we’re done,” Quintus told Absinthe. “I’ll make sure mine play nice. If you hear anything at all about outsiders, whisperings of the Circe coven, I want to know yesterday.”

“I have a gift. Thorn has brought it,” she replied coyly.

“Absinthe. Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s a lovely thought but totally unnecessary.” Quintus shook his head and turned to leave.

“Of course it is,” she responded as she rose and stepped toward the door. Her gown trailed behind her. “But you know when you happen to trip upon the perfect gift for someone…well, I simply couldn’t say no. As much as I appreciate your advice about demons, Thorn is his own beast.”

“We’ve got to go,” Quintus insisted.

Gabriella squeezed his hand. Please. My wolf. As she closed her eyes and spoke, she prayed he’d sense her desperation. Her eyes widened at his response.

“Tonight’s full moon,” Quintus said. “Hunter. Your wolves need to run.”

“Tru dat, brother. I’m so over the show tonight. It’s been real.” Hunter shoved to his feet and crossed the room, not bothering to shake the demon’s hand. He stopped in front of the witch, his fiery eyes on hers. “For the record. I’m with Quint on this one. There is no such thing as a good demon. You’re gonna get burnt.”

“Patience, lovelies,” Absinthe commented. With a firm grip, she grasped the handle, swinging the door wide open, sharing her surprise.

Gabriella’s breath caught at the sight of the petite female standing in the hallway. A rush of Quintus’ emotions slammed through her…shock…grief…guilt. As fast as it came, it disappeared, his shields shutting her out of his thoughts. He knows her. Although he held tight to her hand, his eyes remained focused on the woman. His heavy breath gave away his emotion. Love. He’d loved this woman. Stunned, Gabriella yanked away her hand from his.

“Mao,” he whispered and quickly focused his attention on Absinthe. “What the hell is this? Is this some sort of sick spell? Who is this woman?”

“You know who she is, my dear Quintus.”

“Mao is dead. I watched her fall to her death.”

“Ah, well, apparently she’s not,” Thorn commented.