Emerge: The Captive: (Book 3)(54)

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” she whispered as she piled the last of her pasta onto a slice of garlic bread.

“If we have a chance, we have to take it,” Quinn said just as carefully. No matter what happened or where they ended up, they had to be prepared to run at a moment’s notice.

“But Lennox?” Santi’s eyes watered. “I can’t leave her.”

“We can come back for her. She’s fine here for the time being. My family will help. We’ll buy her if we have to,” he said.

“Can you do that?” Her eyes widened in surprise. “It would be millions.”

“It’s doable.” Quinn didn’t want to talk about money when he knew her family struggled with limited resources. “We’ll never be able to help her as long as we’re stuck in this place. James too.” He liked the selfish bastard and wouldn’t think of leaving him behind, especially considering what he was hiding about his gift for prophecy. If they could escape, Quinn would do his damnedest to bring Soma down and free all the slaves harbored behind that brand.

~~~





CHAPTER

EIGHTEEN





Quinn: Fall


Atlanta, Georgia


“What?” Livia snapped as she answered the phone.

Quinn stirred restlessly on the floor at the foot of her bed. He was a light sleeper, waking the second the phone rattled on Livia’s bedside table. Santi still slept soundly at his side. It was the first full night in months that she was allowed to sleep without interruption and he didn’t want to disturb her.

“He’s where?” Livia snarled.

Quinn shook his head, clearing the cobwebs from his mind. He’d dreamed of home again. His chest burned with the ache of his power. He entered the dreamworld almost every night he slept now. He was almost certain he was a dreamwalker, but without a mentor who could confirm it, he couldn’t be sure. He wandered aimlessly most nights, among the memories of his home, sometimes venturing to places he’d never been. It was usually an eerie place filled with the whisper of voices. He always hoped to see Santi there again, but he hadn’t been able to find her since that first time.

Other nights, Quinn could sense the unrest of the dreamworld. The echo of screams from the deep recesses of some nightmare. It was a dangerous, ancient and mysterious place. He needed guidance. Someone who knew how to navigate the dreamworld safely. He was afraid of what he might do in his na?veté. Since his Awakening, whenever Quinn used any of his gifts, he felt the lure of the addiction taunting him. It was worse with his gifts for madness and persuasion. Less so with his cloaking gift and his ability to call the elements from the earth; but it was always there, lurking just below the surface. But when he was in the dreamworld, he hardly felt it at all. He could feel the power coursing through him—the power that allowed him to enter the dreamworld—but he didn’t feel the temptation to use more than he needed. It filled him with hope that he might finally have an ability he could use in a positive way.

But when he returned to the waking world, inevitably embracing his power, the addiction hit him with its full force.

“Cálmate, Santi whispered as she rubbed the tension from his shoulders. “Take a deep breath and leave the dreams behind,” she whispered in his ear, her voice sleepy and content … for the moment.

“I should throw you back into Michael’s dungeon and forget about you.” Livia’s cold tone sent chills down his spine. “You think you can spout a fancy history lesson and send us to South America chasing our tails?” She kicked him in the ribs as she marched to her closet, tossing her fatigues and weapons onto the bed.

“What are you talking about, Liv?” Quinn rubbed his hand over his ribs, wincing at the sting. Even in her bare feet, it was like getting kicked by a horse.

“Our target has been spotted,” she said, jerking on her black leggings. “Up, both of you. Let’s move.”

“Who’s the target again?” Santi yawned.

“The Scholar,” Quinn said. “I told you Rio was a guess, Livia. Where was he sighted?”

“Your guess was shit. You weren’t even close. And if I find out you were bullshitting me, you and your friends will pay for it. I’ll drag every member of your family here and brand them myself.” Her breath came in ragged gasps as she shoved her knives into their sheathes in her boots. “To make matters worse, the intel came from my father. We completely missed the Scholar’s activity over the last twelve hours.”

“I was making an educated guess based on loosely documented history that your target is responsible for writing. That’s all.” Quinn stood, grabbing his jeans from the small chest where Livia let them keep the few things they had.

“Let’s go. My office downstairs. Now. We’re briefing the team and then we’re leaving.” Livia slipped a pair of slim metal collars into the hook on her belt. Those collars were intended for at least one of the oldest Immortals still living. But for the moment, they were a reminder of how easily she would use those collars on Quinn and Santi if they displeased her.

“Well, where is he?” Quinn asked again.

“Cleveland.” Livia shot him a glare, waiting to see his reaction at the news of where they would be heading in just a few hours.