He hadn't quite worked out all the finite details yet, but he wasn't simply going to forget everything. Being mortal would help to make everything make sense again. At least he really hoped it would.
If he could have seen his reflection, he knew that how he was feeling on the inside—conflicted, shaky,
uncertain—wouldn't be reflected on the outside. The blood he'd drunk the night before had infused him with vitality. He felt healthier, more energetic, like he could take on the world. It almost made him forget what he'd done to get it in the first place.
He rolled his eyes.Stop feeling sorry for yourself, asshole. It solves nothing .
He was out of there. No real reason to stay. Barkley hated him now. Add him to the growing list.
Getting out of everyone's life would be good for everyone.
And he wasn't going to think about Janie. It was enough that he'd dreamed about her, in both good ways and bad. Good because he'd dreamed about making love to her on the beach of a tropical island. Bad when he'd lost control, torn her throat out, and watched her bleed onto the sand.
Just a dream? Or a premonition?
Screw it. Barkley's the psychic, not me.
He grabbed a pen and a piece of paper from his duffel bag and sat on the edge of the bed to write a short note that he hoped would help.
Janie…
He paused, suddenly blanking on what to write. But he couldn't just take off without saying anything to her.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
I can't hope for your forgiveness, so I won't ask for it. It's better that I leave now. Touching you sends me over the edge of sanity, and I don't want to hurt you like I did last night ever again. Go toLas Vegas with Lenny and Barkley. I have faith that he'll be able to help you find your sister. I hope you find what you're looking for.—Quinn
Dammit. He wanted to rewrite it. It sounded too clinical. Too cold. But what was he supposed to say?
That he wanted her with every fiber in his being? That he wished she could forgive him for being a bloodsucking vampire and he wished things could be different?
It should be easy. Knowing what she was. What he was. There was no room in either of their lives for sentiment.
However, leaving that morning was going to be tough. He knew he'd never see her again, and that was the sacrifice he was going to have to make. She wasn't a cold, calculatedMerc killer as he'd originally thought. She did what she had to do with the life she'd been given. She was strong and independent and kind and beautiful, and funny and sweet, and she could easily make him want to tear her clothes off when she was within ten feet of him.
Shit.
He definitely had to get out of there.
She'd think he was a heartless bastard, but then again, she seemed to be a good judge of character. The best thing he could do for her would be to get the hell out of her life while the getting was good.
He folded the letter and left the room, heading for Janie's room. He'd push the letter under the door. He couldn't leave with her thinking that he'd known about her sister the whole time and hadn't said anything to her. Why he hadn't told her immediately, he wasn't sure. He didn't trust her. She sure as hell couldn't possibly trust him. But she had a right to know.
Through the dark morning, bright headlights blinded him for a moment. He squinted and held his hand up to his brow. A black Mustang with Barkley in the passenger seat drove past him and out of the parking lot to the highway beyond.
He felt a little stunned. Well, what do you know? They'd left. The three of them must have left together,
getting up early enough that he wouldn't notice.
How rude was that?
It was one thing for him to do it, but three against one was just tacky.
So much for good intentions.
"Going somewhere?" a voice said from behind him.
His shoulders tensed and he slipped the note into his pocket. "Just out for a breath of morning air."
"Yeah, I bet."
He turned around to see Janie leaning against the stolen werewolf truck. She wasn't smiling.
"Your friends just took off," he said, nodding toward the exiting Mustang.
"I know."
"Where are they going?"
"Vegas."
"Yeah, Janie, about that—"
"About what? The fact that my sister might be there?"
He stared at her. She did not sound like she'd had nearly enough caffeine yet.
"I guess Barkley told you? I was going to tell you."
She nodded. "I see. Well, I guess having your fangs stuck in my neck kind of inhibits small talk, doesn't it?"
"About that, too—"
She waved a hand. "Forget it. See?" She turned to the side to show him her throat. "Marks are all gone.
It's like it never happened. Besides, I've had bigger vamps bite me." She smirked. "I barely even felt you."
Smartass. But at least she wasn't hurt. Not physically, anyhow.
"Then let's forget it happened," he said.
"I thought I already said that."
He forced a grin. "So I guess we're not friends anymore?"
"Werewe friends?" She raised an eyebrow. "I don't remember that. I do, however, remember my assignment to follow the expendable vampire to the Eye. Expendable means, of course, that it doesn't really matter in the end if you live or die. Where's the map, Quinn?"