Scorched Ice (Fire and Ice #3)(43)
Chris and Julian stood resolutely beside her as they all stared at the small log cabin tucked into a clearing in the woods. The cabin was as dark as the night around them. Thick clouds had rolled in to obscure the moon and stars over an hour ago. Movement in the trees drew her eyes when a raccoon ran behind the cabin before slipping back into the woods.
No vehicles were parked in the drive, and both garage doors on the massive bay beside the cabin were closed. She had no idea why anyone would have a garage bigger than their house, but the building stood nearly twice as high. From everything she’d heard about The Commission, the size of it probably didn’t bode well for any unsuspecting humans and vampires.
She actually wouldn’t have minded living in this peaceful little spot Herb had chosen; however, goose bumps covered her skin, and her bones felt like ice. Her soul-deep chill had nothing to do with the climate difference between Pennsylvania and Arizona, and everything to do with the fact she wanted nothing to do with the man who lived here.
The thick pines surrounding the clearing creaked when a breeze blew down from the mountains looming behind the cabin. The eerie sound made the ominous feeling inside of her grow.
“I don’t smell any humans or hear any heartbeats,” Prue said.
“No, but The Commission are like rats. They like to go to ground,” Julian replied. “We may not be able to smell or hear him if he’s in hiding.”
Quinn refused to shudder, refused to let them see how much this place unnerved her, how terrified she was of what they would find, and what such a discovery might do to Julian. The two of them were intricately bound together now. She knew the tightrope he walked every day between killing and keeping himself restrained from doing so. It wouldn’t take much to push him over the edge, and The Commission was the one thing that always rattled him.
“What’s the plan?” Vern inquired.
“You, me, Quinn, Chris, Dani, and Melissa will go to check it out,” Julian said. “Everyone else will be staying here to watch out for any threat.”
They’d already discussed this arrangement in the car with Devon and Cassie. Julian had originally planned to keep her in the woods, but she’d refused to agree to that. “Sounds good,” Vern replied.
Julian nodded his head toward the cabin and slipped from the trees. Quinn stayed close on his heels while he walked out of the woods and across the front yard as if he owned the place and knew every lethal secret it might hold.
She felt more keyed up than a skydiver standing in the doorway of a plane, and she was half afraid she may scream if only to ease the tension building within her. Every second, she was certain she would hear the sound of a crossbow releasing, or the whistle of an arrow flying through the air at her.
Julian subtly positioned himself so that he walked in front of her. “Julian!”
“You can bring me back to life. I can’t do the same for you,” he said so low that she knew only she heard him.
“I never want to do that again,” she grated through her teeth at him.
“Save my life?” he inquired and shot a sexy smile over his shoulder at her. It was a look she was sure had made many women swoon over the centuries; it made her blood boil.
“Right now, no.”
His grin widened before he turned away from her. “Sheathe the fangs, Dewdrop.”
She moved to the side to walk next to him. When he went to grab her arm, she gave him a look that froze his hand in place.
“I don’t want to take a life like that again,” she said to him as her eyes turned to survey the house once more.
His hand fell to his side before he stepped closer, so his shoulder brushed against hers while they walked. He moved so that he was still partially in front of her, but he no longer blocked her completely.
As they got closer to the house, she noticed more subtle details about it. The curtains on the sides of the windows had been neatly tied back. The covered porch, taking up half the front of the cabin had a rocking chair and table set out on it. On the other was a built-in, solid-wood bench with intricate designs of ivy and flowers etched into its oak-colored surface.
It was a peaceful image that was completely out of place with what she knew the owner of this cabin represented. She imagined Herb often sat in the chair or on the bench, sipping iced tea or beer as he plotted how to torture and kill someone.
Julian didn’t bother to look through the windows but went straight to the front door. The thumping of their boots on the steps caused her to wince as they climbed onto the porch. Quinn’s gaze was drawn to the window beside the chair, but she didn’t approach it.
Julian and Chris walked around the porch, their eyes focused on the boards. Quinn glanced down and took a small step back at the thought of someone hiding beneath floorboards. Julian pulled the chair back while Chris lifted the table. They approached the bench together; Julian ran his hands over the surface as he examined it while Chris pulled the cushions from the seat and tossed them aside. Seemingly satisfied, Chris rejoined them while Julian stalked over to the front door.
“Don’t think anyone’s going to invite us in,” Vern said.
“That’s why we have Hunters with us,” Julian replied. “But it is always polite to knock first.”
With that, he opened the screen door, lifted his hand, and rapped his knuckles loudly against the wood. Quinn bit her lip as she listened for any hint of sound from the other side of the door. Everything remained as it had before he’d knocked; the creaking of the pines and the whistling of the wind were the only sounds in the clearing.