ever feeling that strongly for anyone. Except Zack. What if renewing the magic didn’t work, and he had to stay here? Could she leave V.C., leave him behind in a perpetual battle for his life, while she flew to another part of the world, never to see him again?
No. And she prayed it never came to that.
The hallway Amanda led them down emptied into a living area where half a dozen people sat reading or playing chess by the light of several oil lamps. None were Traders or had the phosphorescent hair peculiar to Slavas, but whether they were humans or vampires, she couldn’t tell.
All six turned when they walked in, eyeing her and Zack curiously. One man eyed them warily, tensing as if he were preparing to run . . . or fight, if he had to. The word traumatized came to mind. A couple of them smiled, but none said anything, nor did Amanda speak to them as she led Zack and her through the room and down yet another hallway, this one lined with doors on either side. Some of the doors were open and Quinn saw one or two twin beds in each, a bedside table, and little more. Spartan, but clean, and since the occupants were free to come and go as they wished, and free from attack by vampires, a luxury hotel couldn’t be any more welcome to most who arrived here.
Several doors down, Amanda stopped, motioning to an open doorway on either side of the hall. “These are your rooms.” The doctor entered one, using a Bic to light an oil lamp on the bedside table. “The bathroom is at the far end of the hall. It’s a community bath, but there are several shower stalls, and the water is warm enough, if not as hot as you might like.”
Quinn glanced back the way they’d come. “Those people . . . Are they all escapees?”
“Yes. They’ll be out of V.C. by week’s end, if all goes as planned, with no memory of where they’ve been.”
Zack walked into the room and sat on the bed with a sigh. “I wish I had a computer.”
“You’re not tired,” Quinn murmured. That, at least, was a good sign. “Why don’t we go watch the training for a little bit?”
The self-loathing in Zack’s expression slew her. “Why? So I can add to the catalog of all the things I can’t do?”
To Quinn’s surprise, Arturo took a seat on the bed beside him. Zack glanced at him with suspicion, then turned to study his hands, where he’d clasped them between his knees.
“When I was sixteen,” Arturo said quietly, “I watched a vampire kill my mother.” He turned to study his own hands. “I didn’t even try to stop him. I did nothing, just stood there in shock as the blackguard drained her dry, then dumped her body onto the dirt floor of the shack where we lived.”
Quinn’s heart clenched with misery for him, for the teen he’d once been. She glanced at Amanda, who stood beside her, empathy and sorrow warm in the doctor’s eyes.
Zack looked at him, his brows drawn. “You were just a kid. There’s nothing you could have done.”
“I was the man of the house and nearly full-grown. And I have never forgiven myself for not trying to save her even though I know, now, that there was nothing I could have done. Not then. Not with the knowledge I’d lacked at that point in my life. Vampires can be killed by human hands, Zack. Learning how to battle them takes time, and skill. Even then, you must take your opponent by surprise if you are to have any chance of success. But the skills can be learned by anyone with the drive and the persistence to learn them.”
Zack glanced at him, a moment’s hope flaring in his eyes, then dying away. “I’m not a fighter. I’ve never been any kind of an athlete. I’m too skinny.”
“The best fighters have both strength and cleverness. Cleverness is a gift one is born with, but strength can be acquired. I suspect you are quite clever, Zack. If you wish, you can become a good fighter. But you’ll have to work hard. It will not happen overnight. Your Lily would be impressed, would she
No. And she prayed it never came to that.
The hallway Amanda led them down emptied into a living area where half a dozen people sat reading or playing chess by the light of several oil lamps. None were Traders or had the phosphorescent hair peculiar to Slavas, but whether they were humans or vampires, she couldn’t tell.
All six turned when they walked in, eyeing her and Zack curiously. One man eyed them warily, tensing as if he were preparing to run . . . or fight, if he had to. The word traumatized came to mind. A couple of them smiled, but none said anything, nor did Amanda speak to them as she led Zack and her through the room and down yet another hallway, this one lined with doors on either side. Some of the doors were open and Quinn saw one or two twin beds in each, a bedside table, and little more. Spartan, but clean, and since the occupants were free to come and go as they wished, and free from attack by vampires, a luxury hotel couldn’t be any more welcome to most who arrived here.
Several doors down, Amanda stopped, motioning to an open doorway on either side of the hall. “These are your rooms.” The doctor entered one, using a Bic to light an oil lamp on the bedside table. “The bathroom is at the far end of the hall. It’s a community bath, but there are several shower stalls, and the water is warm enough, if not as hot as you might like.”
Quinn glanced back the way they’d come. “Those people . . . Are they all escapees?”
“Yes. They’ll be out of V.C. by week’s end, if all goes as planned, with no memory of where they’ve been.”
Zack walked into the room and sat on the bed with a sigh. “I wish I had a computer.”
“You’re not tired,” Quinn murmured. That, at least, was a good sign. “Why don’t we go watch the training for a little bit?”
The self-loathing in Zack’s expression slew her. “Why? So I can add to the catalog of all the things I can’t do?”
To Quinn’s surprise, Arturo took a seat on the bed beside him. Zack glanced at him with suspicion, then turned to study his hands, where he’d clasped them between his knees.
“When I was sixteen,” Arturo said quietly, “I watched a vampire kill my mother.” He turned to study his own hands. “I didn’t even try to stop him. I did nothing, just stood there in shock as the blackguard drained her dry, then dumped her body onto the dirt floor of the shack where we lived.”
Quinn’s heart clenched with misery for him, for the teen he’d once been. She glanced at Amanda, who stood beside her, empathy and sorrow warm in the doctor’s eyes.
Zack looked at him, his brows drawn. “You were just a kid. There’s nothing you could have done.”
“I was the man of the house and nearly full-grown. And I have never forgiven myself for not trying to save her even though I know, now, that there was nothing I could have done. Not then. Not with the knowledge I’d lacked at that point in my life. Vampires can be killed by human hands, Zack. Learning how to battle them takes time, and skill. Even then, you must take your opponent by surprise if you are to have any chance of success. But the skills can be learned by anyone with the drive and the persistence to learn them.”
Zack glanced at him, a moment’s hope flaring in his eyes, then dying away. “I’m not a fighter. I’ve never been any kind of an athlete. I’m too skinny.”
“The best fighters have both strength and cleverness. Cleverness is a gift one is born with, but strength can be acquired. I suspect you are quite clever, Zack. If you wish, you can become a good fighter. But you’ll have to work hard. It will not happen overnight. Your Lily would be impressed, would she
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