Quinn's Undying Rose
Page 73

“It’s a .22 caliber gun with silver bullets. Anything larger than that, and you risk the bullet passing through your target. The bullets from a small gun like this will lodge in your victim and do the most damage—burning him from the inside. But as I said, you’re only keeping this for self-defense.”
Rose squared her stance. “This is my fight. You don’t honestly think I would step back and hide somewhere safe just because you say so, do you?”
With her hands at her hips, she underscored her position.
Quinn leaned closer. “I’m a trained fighter, you’re not. No discussion.”
“How do you think I survived the last two hundred years? I’m not a withering debutante anymore. I’m stronger than you think. And you seem to have a problem with that.”
His eyes narrowed. “Are you suggesting that I underestimate you?”
She took a deep breath. “I’m suggesting that you, my lord,” she mocked, “still see me as a helpless woman who will faint at the slightest sight of trouble. I’m not that person anymore. Don’t be fooled by the packaging.”
“Rose,” he said, a warning growl in his voice. “I can overpower you in two seconds flat, and close combat isn’t even my specialty. Trust me—”
He didn’t get any further. Rose pressed her lips onto his. As she felt him respond to her kiss, she reached toward the bed. Gripping her weapon of choice, feeling the smooth wood settling in her palm, she twisted from his embrace, whirled behind him, and within a split-second had him in a tight grip, the stake pointing to his heart.
“Close combat is my specialty,” she whispered in his ear. “The closer, the better.”
His chest rose against the tip of the stake.
“Because you tricked me. Is that how you’re planning to defeat Keegan? Is it, Rose?” He turned his head to look at her. “Then be prepared for a massacre, because if that man gets to touch you one more time, I’m going to rip his fucking heart out while it’s still beating.”
His jealousy was palpable. She’d never seen his eyes this wild, his facial expression this tense, not even when he’d been angry with her after realizing that she’d lied to him.
Her grip loosened.
An instant later she found herself on her back with Quinn pressing her into the mattress, his hand now holding the stake against her chest. Her breath hitched, her thoughts instantly traveling back in time to the night she’d killed his sire. If he found out, was this how he would finish her off? Killing her one day as she lay beneath him, his hot body the last sensation she would ever feel?
“I might have mislead you by saying close combat wasn’t my specialty.” A wicked smile appeared on his face. “My bad.”
Quinn tossed the stake to the side, making her take a relieved breath. He noticed it, a surprised look on his face. He glanced at the stake, then back at her. “I was only making a point. You know I would never hurt you.”
She hesitated before she answered him. “I know that.”
But she also knew that once he knew the truth, things would change and his promise of never hurting her would vanish into thin air.
He tilted his head. “Then why do you look so worried?”
She pushed against him, wanting to free herself, and avoided his gaze. “Why wouldn’t I look worried? Keegan is about to attack us.”
Quinn searched her eyes, but for whatever reason she had shut him out. Something was bothering her, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t the fact that Keegan was about to burst into their safe house. He’d hoped that after Rose had let him drink her blood, she would finally open up to him completely, but he realized now that she was still holding back. As if she were afraid of something.
Disappointed that she still didn’t fully trust him, he rolled off her.
“Let’s get ready then.”
In detached efficiency, he explained the weapons to her, showed her how to use the gun and even let her keep a stake, even though he hoped that she would not have to use it. Shooting from a safe distance was all he wanted her to do.
Quinn kept the throwing stars for himself, tucked a gun into the waistband of his pants, and armed himself with a flail, a medieval ball and chain weapon vampires had adapted for their own purposes. Two chains of pure silver hung from a stick, two balls at each end so when the flail was thrown with skill, the chain and balls would wrap around a person’s neck. The silver would burn into the opposing vampire’s skin, disabling him for long enough to finish him off in close combat.
“How did you get into this line of work? I mean, working for Scanguards,” Rose suddenly asked. “You didn’t need the money, not after your brother died shortly after . . .”