Under the Moon (Goddesses Rising)

Chapter Two

The power harnessed by goddesses is a connection to the energy generated by all life in this world—energy that is absorbed by, altered by, or resonating in non-living objects, as well. A goddess’s power is capacity. She is like a vessel, using her source to access, manipulate, and channel energy into and through herself. This ability allows her to do amazing things.

—The Society for Goddess Education and Defense, New Member Brochure

…



Quinn dropped back against her chair, staring at Nick. Being accused of going rogue wasn’t what had brought him here? “What’s the other problem?”

His eyes flicked toward her, then back to the screen. He scrolled down to read the signature on the e-mail, then back up to the top. “There’s a leech out there. He’s hit two goddesses already.”

Fear twanged deep inside her, like a plucked cello string—a completely different kind of fear than the routine rush of facing a drunk with a switchblade and more concrete than an undefined “rogue” accusation. “So when you said ‘we,’ you meant me.”

His mouth curved on one side. “Well, yeah.” He waggled a finger at the laptop. “This, though, this is definitely ‘we.’”

“Who did he hit?” she asked, and his smirk dropped.

“Tanda and Chloe.”

She closed her eyes, her heart weeping for her friends. Why hadn’t she heard about this before? It hadn’t been that long since they talked, or at least e-mailed. She didn’t see them often, living so far apart, but she had been looking forward to getting together at the upcoming Society meeting.

She couldn’t imagine how they must be feeling right now. “Goddess” wasn’t only a job description—it was a state of being. When the leech took that away, he would have destroyed their essence.

Quinn clenched her fist and let heat coalesce in her palm, just to connect to her source, to her core. It came slowly, the moon nearly out of her reach, and panic flirted at the edges of her consciousness until her fingers flinched open, stung.

Stop it. She wasn’t a hand wringer. She was a problem solver. She asked questions and set a plan based on the answers. Never mind that a leech was a whole lot different from retrieving lost wedding rings and helping the corn crop flourish. “They’re on opposite coasts,” she pointed out.

“I know.”

“When?”

“Not long ago. Four days apart.”

That wasn’t much time. Leeching was hard. It took preparation. Travel wouldn’t be an obstacle—Oregon to Rhode Island was still less than a day, even with layovers. But for someone to have leeched two of them that close together…

“We have to be talking about two people,” she said, the fear doubling until Nick shook his head.

“They say it was the same guy. They’d know.”

Of course, Tanda and Chloe would know. It wasn’t like a murder, the victims unable to describe their attacker. Leeching left the goddess alive but powerless. Bile crept up the back of Quinn’s throat. She didn’t ask about protectors. Her friends both had regular power sources and had never come under threat, as far as she knew, so they wouldn’t have had one.

She swallowed hard. “Do you think he’s moving this way? Is that why you came?”

He lifted a shoulder. “No one knows where he’s going next. It’s a sure bet he’s going somewhere, though. Here is as likely as anywhere else.”

So there was no concrete reason Nick was here. Not an external one, anyway. Logically, she didn’t need him now, but something deeper, more visceral was fiercely glad he’d come. The part of her that she’d closed up tight, determined not to allow light and hope that didn’t exist, cracked open.

She reached for Nick’s beer and took a long swallow, forcing herself to concentrate on the practical. “He won’t be after me yet. Not if he’s doing any kind of research on us. And he has to be, to get two in four days.”

Nick made a half-agreeing motion with his head. “Tanda and Chloe both use their abilities commercially. It wouldn’t be hard to collect information on them, especially if he’s a computer geek like your guy in there.” He indicated the closed office door.

“Well, their websites, sure.”

“And their customer bases,” Nick said.

The population at large ignored the hundred or so goddesses in the United States. Most people had never met a goddess or seen one at work. It made sense that the leech would target ones who operated publicly. Which Quinn did, so Nick was right, she was a potential target.

She grimaced at his raised eyebrows. “My point is, if I am a target, he’d have to be studying me.” Her body shuddered when she resisted the urge to look over her shoulder. “And if he’s studying me, he knows when I have access to power. He’d be foolish to try to leech me when it’s not the full moon. ” She lifted his bottle toward her mouth again, but he grabbed it away and drained it.

Quinn continued. “A leech would have to get close to his target, tune into the energies she uses before he can take her power. If she’s away from her source—or if the source is away from her—there’s no power to take. Right?”

“Right,” Nick acknowledged. He raised his hand to signal for another beer.

“So let’s table that and discuss this.” She jabbed a finger at the screen. “Do you know what it’s about?”

Nick slowly shook his head, studying the words as if they were a code.

“What does it mean?” she demanded. “Rogue from what?” The word still made the back of her neck prickle, even though it had no support. Not like “murderer” or “rapist” did. It taunted with its intangibility. How could they fight a threat they didn’t understand?

He shrugged. “No idea. Never heard it used like that before. Any responses to the e-mail?” He closed it and opened her incoming mailbox. Though Quinn doubted there was anything private in there, she pulled the computer back around anyway.

“No,” she said after a minute of scanning. “Nothing. That’s odd, since this came in last night. And I didn’t get a separate message about putting it on the agenda.”

“You know her?”

She opened the e-mail again. She hadn’t even noticed who sent it, but she knew almost everyone in the Society. The message was signed, “Jennifer in Mississippi.”

“Not well. You?”

He shook his head. “She’s not one of mine.”

“Whose, then?”

“You know it doesn’t work like that.” He rubbed his hand over his mouth and shadowed jaw. “I don’t know who’s where, unless it directly affects one of my assignments.”

“Which makes this kind of thing a helluva lot easier.”

Nick grinned at Quinn’s annoyance. “What kind of thing?”

“You know.” She floundered for a second before pointing at the word “rogue” on the screen. “That. It’s…unsettling.”

He blew out a breath. “Well, nothing we can do about it now. I guess we wait for the meeting and see what’s what.”

She rebelled at the idea of sitting back and doing nothing, but there was a more immediate concern. She raised her eyebrows at him. “You’re coming to the meeting?”

“If you are, of course I am.”

“But why?”

He looked at her, something churning deep in his eyes that she hadn’t seen there before. “Leech, Quinn.”

“I told you, he won’t come now.” She moved to shut down the computer, unsure why she was so agitated about him being here that long. He usually stayed for only a week at a time, close to the new moon. She could handle being with him for a week, since he was more of a constant presence than an interference. But clearly that wasn’t going to be the case this time.

“I don’t care. He could capture you now, hold you until the moon’s full again. I’m not taking a chance.” Nick stood to pull on his jacket. “I have to drive to Marion to pick up a few things. Don’t look at me like that,” he said when she frowned. “It wasn’t on the way, and I had to stop here and see you. I’ll be back before you close. Stay around people and don’t lock me out.”

Quinn wasn’t sure which was stronger, her annoyance at his high-handedness or the warmth of knowing he’d been in such a rush to check on her in person. “I’ll have your room made up for you.” Her dad had always kept a couple of rooms above the bar ready in case of severe weather or stranded motorists, but to save money when he died, Quinn had made them into her personal living space. When Nick was here, he stayed in the room farthest from hers and closest to the outside door.

“Stay around people,” he ordered again, and she rolled her eyes.

“I promise, Dad.”

His glower made her grin, but it fell as soon as he disappeared through the rough wooden door into the darkness outside. The noise and movement in the bar faded around her, and she slipped back to when they’d first met. She was twenty-three, Nick twenty-one and fresh from Protectorate training. Quinn had just helped a friend escape from an abusive boyfriend. She’d been pretty cocky back then, high on exploring the extent of her abilities. Using shields and telekinesis, Quinn protected the friend and her kids when the boyfriend tried to stop them, so they were able to collect all their things and get away without him following. Quinn remained behind as the friend fled to a shelter. Turning the tables on the bully had been fun. She’d tested the limits of her element control, setting him on fire without letting him actually burn and sucking enough air out of the room to make him think he was going to suffocate.

But of course, she’d been stupid and arrogant. Her friend disappeared into the system, so the boyfriend came after Quinn. He was smart enough and knew enough about her to wait until the new moon, when her only defense was physical. She hadn’t seen it coming, foolishly closing the bar alone while her father was away at a convention. The boyfriend had shoved through the door as Quinn was locking it, knocking her back onto the floor. She’d stared up past his passionless face at the rage in his eyes, and cold, foreign fear paralyzed her. Somehow, when he reached to grab her shirt, his fist cocked, she’d dredged up the strength to fight back. The fiasco had earned her a broken arm.

Nick arrived a few days later, informing her that her mother had called the Society, who contacted the Protectorate. Quinn wanted to be furious, but she wasn’t stupid. Besides the fact that vulnerability and nervousness had become her companions, she was a young, unattached woman. Why would she fight having a hot, rugged, mysterious guy at her side? Especially one who drove a muscle car and wore a beat-up leather jacket, trappings she knew were meaningless, but damn, they were hot.

At first, Nick stayed until the boyfriend was arraigned for the assault charges and released on bail. He’d been spotted lurking once, but Nick’s presence kept him away. Nick spent some time training Quinn in self-defense, and when the threat appeared averted, the Protectorate moved him on to another assignment.

Quinn had hated the cold pit of fear the incident had left in her, and she refused to do nothing when there were so many people she could help. They’d established a system to help abused women get out of their situations, and Nick’s assignment turned permanent. He set a random schedule to deter anyone who might be planning an attack, always overlapping with the new moon. When Quinn’s father had his fourth, fatal heart attack and her mother died from an infection a few months later, Quinn took over the bar and her goddess business grew naturally into other, less directly dangerous work. Her reputation included the presence of a badass protector, so the threat against her became dormant, and their working relationship became routine.

Their friendship had started with their first words. Quinn couldn’t remember them now, only that whatever Nick said had snagged a connection inside her with the strength of platinum. He wasn’t a silent, lurking presence like a normal bodyguard. They debated physical versus energy-sourced protection. The defensive perspective he provided gave her a new way of looking at the world, and it made her stronger. And even though he was never there to see it, she was better able to serve her clients during the week around the full moon.

They enjoyed the same TV shows and movies and even shared political and social opinions. Quinn would have called them soul mates, but the one time they’d seemed to be venturing over that line, Nick had made it clear he wouldn’t go there. Month by month their friendship had deepened, as had both her feelings and Nick’s determination.

Shaking off the melancholy, she spent some time clearing tables and shooting the shit with her regulars. She needed to put a buffer between her unsettling moments with Nick and talking to Sam. He was so sensitive to her moods he’d instantly know what she was feeling, and things were bad enough between them without pulling Nick into the mix. Eventually, she felt clear enough to go bring Sam up to date.

This time when she entered the office, instead of pretending he hadn’t noticed her, he eyed her carefully from head to toe.

“You’re okay?”

“Yeah, why?” She set the laptop on her desk.

“I heard the commotion. I was on the phone, and by the time I came out, everything looked fine.”

“Just a drunk. We got rid of him.” She shoved her hair back and leaned against the side of her desk. “We have a problem, Sam.”

He stared at the pencil he was twirling between his hands. “I don’t think we do.” He seemed to steel himself and looked up. Hurt flickered in his eyes before a wall went up. Quinn forgot what she’d been about to say. “We settled everything last night. I’ve been your employee, and a tool—”

Appalled, she cut in. “You’re not a tool, Sam, you’re my friend. My family. I can’t—”

“Will you shut up and listen?” He stood, the pain replaced by anger and determination. “I don’t want this to change anything.”

Quinn opened her mouth, sorrow and regret surging, but he stopped her with a sweep of his hand.

“You are my best friend. I understand that you can’t care about me the way I’d hoped. But you still need me. I don’t want you to send me away. I can—”

Someone knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for a response. Katie came through and zeroed in on Quinn, apparently not noticing their tension. “Nick’s here.”

Sam threw up his hands and let them slap down onto his thighs. “Great. Perfect timing.”

The women, used to the friction between the two men, ignored him. “Thanks, Katie. Can you please tell him his room’s ready?”

“Sure.” Katie closed the door behind her.

Sam paced across the few feet behind his desk, muttering something about competition.

“He’s—” Quinn stopped her automatic protest. It wouldn’t do any good to say that Nick wasn’t competition, since it wasn’t exactly true and Sam might take it the wrong way. She bit her lip. Did he still hope she’d change her mind?

He halted, obviously making an effort to rein himself in. “So what’s he doing here now, anyway?”

Quinn didn’t have time to respond before Nick sauntered in.

“Hey, Sam.” He eyed the other man, his brow creasing when he sensed Sam’s hostility. “You tell him?” he asked Quinn.

“I didn’t get a chance to yet.”

Nick dropped into a chair in front of Quinn’s desk, turning it to make a triangle among the three of them. She stood frozen, her body practically vibrating with the friction filling the room. Sam stuck his hands on his hips, the move widening his body, and she would have sworn he stretched to his full height to tower over Nick. Not intimidated, Nick propped his work boot on the edge of Quinn’s desk and tilted his chair back, a smug smile flickering at the corners of his mouth.

“Tell me what?” Sam demanded.

“I’ve gone rogue,” Nick declared at the same time Quinn said, “We’ve got a leech.”

Sam looked from one to the other. Nick’s grin had expanded to fully cocky. Quinn, no doubt, looked grim. The room filled with implications, too many questions to be asked, and a metallic tang of fear from all three of them. Quinn could almost see Sam’s brain sorting through the mess to find the most immediate concern. Of course, that was the one sitting in front of him.

“Rogue? What does that mean?”

Nick shrugged and filched a peppermint from the bowl on Quinn’s desk. “No idea. And I haven’t. But some people seem to think I have, which will make the other problem worse. Raise your hand if you think that’s coincidence.”

No one did.

“The leech.” Sam stuck his hands on his hips and looked at Quinn again, concern and accusation on his face. “That’s the problem you came in here to tell me about. Not—”

She nodded, wishing she didn’t feel so relieved about the distraction from their discussion.

“F*ck.” He dropped into his chair. “That’s, like, a crisis, not a problem.”

“Not for us,” Nick said. “Not yet. But it will be. Quinn’s got a lot of power, and she’s public about it, so it’s a sure bet he’ll be after her.”

“Not until the moon’s full again. So we have some time.” Sam grabbed a pad out of a drawer and started writing. “Where’s he hit so far?”

“Tanda and Chloe.”

He stopped writing, and his sadness fed Quinn’s. Where were they right now? Had the leeching done physical damage as well as taking their power? Who was looking after them? She checked her watch. It was too late in the night to call Chloe in Rhode Island, but maybe Tanda was still up. Assuming she wanted to accept phone calls.

Sam went back to his notes. “They both draw their power from water.”

“They do?” Nick dropped his foot and the chair legs to the floor with a thump.

Quinn nodded. “Chloe from the ocean, Tanda from rain.”

“I wonder if that’s all he wants,” Nick said.

“I doubt it.” Quinn sat down and pulled out her cell phone. “It might explain why he could leech Chloe so soon after Tanda, if his preparation was similar. So he might hit another goddess whose power source is a form of water, but it won’t be where he stops.”

Nick frowned. “What’s that woman in Mississippi’s source? The one who said I’d gone rogue?”

“Jennifer.” She stiffened. “Flowing water. That’s why she’s near the river. Do you think—”

“She’s been hit already?” Nick dialed his cell phone. “There’s a chance.”

While he waited for his call to be answered, Quinn scrolled to find Tanda’s number. The line barely rang once before it went to voice mail. Quinn didn’t know what to say, so she hung up and listened to Nick’s side of his own conversation.

“Hey, it’s Nick. Jarrett. Yeah, you too. Hey, you know who’s got Jennifer…” He raised his eyebrows at Quinn.

“Hollinger,” she said, the name popping into her head. “Jennifer Hollinger. She’s in Vicksburg, Mississippi.”

Nick repeated the information and waited. “Okay, thanks anyway. Let me know if you find out.” He snapped the phone closed and shook his head. “We don’t cover her much. She stays by the river most of the time. Can you contact her?” he asked Quinn. “Find out if she’s okay? It’s only been two days since Chloe, but with the power he got from her, he could make it quicker.”

Quinn nodded and went to her file cabinet to pull out the Society roster. She found Jennifer’s phone number and left a message for her, but a bad feeling grew the more she considered what they knew. She went online and checked messages again. There was still nothing else from Jennifer, and no responses on the Society e-mail loop. In fact, there was no discussion on the Society loop at all, and given the news about the leech alone, there should be dozens of messages. She checked the group settings, but everything looked okay. After a moment, she typed: I haven’t heard anything from Jennifer about Nick, and she doesn’t answer her phone. Anyone know what’s going on?

Before she sent the e-mail, she told Nick what she was doing and asked, “Should I mention the leech?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Up to you. Anyone mention it yet?”

“No. Strange.”

“John said the Society doesn’t want to start a panic. They’ve assigned a security team to investigate it, and the Protectorate has mobilized protectors for goddesses they think might be vulnerable.” He reached for another mint, avoiding her eyes, and she wondered if that meant he was supposed to be protecting someone else. Something warm flared low in her abdomen, but she frowned.

“I get not wanting to start a panic, but they can’t sit on the knowledge. People have to know. It’s bad enough Tanda and Chloe had no warning.”

“They’re probably trying to avoid being bombarded,” Sam said. “They’ve got to have their hands full. This is way beyond pamphlets and PR.”

“I guess.” But Quinn still didn’t agree with their methods. After a moment of hesitation, she added a line to the e-mail asking if anyone had heard about a leech and clicked send.

Sam bounced his pen against his pad. “How does someone become a leech, anyway?” He directed the question at Nick. “I mean, not just anyone can do it, right? Or everyone would.”

“Not a lot of people know goddesses,” Nick said. “So not everyone would.” He crossed a leg over his knee and stretched his arms over his head before bracing his hands behind his neck. The heat in Quinn’s belly spread and added bite. She stared at the computer screen and clicked refresh on her e-mail in-box, waiting for her body to subside so she could tune back into the guys’ conversation.

“When was the last time a leech actually existed?”

Sam’s question was rhetorical. There hadn’t been a leech in their lifetime. Goddess fairy tales abounded with leeches instead of trolls and witches or the specter of nuclear war. Parents lumped leeches in with child abductors, piggybacking warnings with lessons about not talking to strangers. But they never discussed how a leech came to be. Quinn hadn’t even known until she met Nick. As a protector, he had extensive training in all possible threats.

“So?” Sam scowled at Nick, then at Quinn. “Why are you avoiding the question?”

Nick raised one eyebrow at Quinn. She sighed. “A leech can only exist if a goddess bestows power on him.”

“What?” Sam sat up sharply. “They can do that? You can do that?”

“Yeah, but…no, not me. But some goddesses, yes.” Quinn hunched her shoulders a little. “Not like donating blood or something. It’s tied into her abilities, I guess, and the recipient has to be male and receptive.”

“Who wouldn’t be receptive?” Sam asked. When Nick and Quinn both looked at him, he made an “oh, come on” face. “I’m not saying I would. I mean—”

“Receptive as in physically capable,” Quinn said. “And there’s no way to test for that or anything. Right?” she confirmed with Nick.

“As far as I know. But it’s not like anyone teaches this stuff. No one wants it to happen. The legend is that she can only give power to a man, and since he won’t be a natural vessel, he’ll have to constantly reacquire it. So he becomes—”

“A leech.” Sam blew out a breath. “Okay. So a goddess had to have started this.”

Quinn didn’t say anything. She had no idea of the actual process involved and wasn’t sure she’d understand it if she did. Goddesses were vessels for energy, similar to batteries but with only short-term storage. Each goddess had a different capacity and manifestation, so she supposed some had the ability to transfer power to a vessel with the capacity to receive it.

She hated the idea of any goddess she knew doing such a thing. They didn’t come into their power or even know what would feed it until they hit age twenty-one. Because their life expectancy was higher than a normal human’s, they weren’t fully mature, and fully connected to the world’s energy, until then. The whole process of determining the source and training to channel the energy was different for every person and meant a long learning curve. Who would go through all of that and then give some of it up? Who wouldn’t care about the damage they could do if they created a leech?

The more immediate concern, she decided, was determining who was next so they could prevent it. Stop the leech, then find who’d created him.

Sam seemed to be going down the same road she was. “Quinn, does the roster list details about the goddesses? Like power source, age, stuff like that?”

She shook her head. “That’s kept in a database at headquarters in Boston, but general members don’t have access.”

“You’re the board’s secretary, though, not a general member.”

“Good point.” Quinn leaned over to access the computer. “I’ll see what I can get.”

“Tanda’s your age, right, Quinn?” Nick drummed his fingers on the desk.

“A year younger.” She entered her officer code and password to access the Society’s protected web pages. “Chloe’s older than us, by maybe six or seven years.” Midthirties to maybe fiftyish would be the ideal age span for leeching. Leeching a young goddess would be like eating celery to put on weight—more effort was expended than benefit gained.

Quinn logged into the live forums and saw that Alana, the Society’s executive director, was online. She IMed her a request for access to the database. Alana responded immediately.

ED: Why do you need it?

QUINN C: We’re trying to track the leech.

She watched the screen for a few minutes. Alana didn’t respond. She felt Nick and Sam looking at her and glanced up. “I’m working on it.”

The computer chimed.

ED: The board and security team are in charge of the investigation. Your assistance is not required.

There was the sound of a door closing and the screen read, ED has gone offline, 11:22 p.m.

“Shit.” Quinn stared at the screen, stunned and a little hurt at the abrupt cut-off.

“Well?”

She slapped the lid down and bounced back in her chair. “Nothing. She said the board and security team are investigating and they don’t need our assistance.” She busied herself crumpling up scrap paper, but Nick guessed what she was thinking anyway.

“They heard about me going rogue and know you’re mine.”

“Tell me again what that means?” Sam sounded exasperated.

“We don’t know!” Quinn and Nick said together.

Sam shook his head, looking disgusted. “Don’t you think we’d better figure it out? Or why this goddess you’ve never met would say it?”

“I dunno, maybe she’s got a hard-on for Quinn.” Nick swung to face her. “Maybe she’s the one who created the leech, and she wants to get rid of me so you’re vulnerable. Which would make you an immediate target.”

It was too logical to refute. “Maybe.”

Sam, who’d been packing his computer into his tote, paused. “I should stay here tonight, then.”

“Hell, no.” Nick swung himself upright and clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You know I’ve got it covered. Besides, you two keep saying she can’t be leeched until full moon.”

He slid out from under Nick’s hand. “It can’t hurt to have another set of eyes and ears here.”

“It’s okay,” Quinn said to stave off a fight. “I really believe nothing’s going to happen tonight. Go home and get some sleep.”

Sam slung his bag over his shoulder, looking unhappy. “I’ll make sure they don’t need me out front. Let me know tomorrow if you come up with anything brilliant.” He didn’t look back as he left.

Nick flashed his crooked grin at her. “Alone at last.”

“Shut up.” Her fatigue had grown exponentially over the last hour. The only blessing was that it overwhelmed the residual hunger. Sam’s exit had deflated all the tension, too, and the relief left Quinn’s muscles as lax as her brain.

Well, she didn’t know everyone’s age or power source, but she knew some. It wouldn’t hurt to write those, at least. She picked up the roster to make notes in each record.

Nick watched her for a few minutes. “You look exhausted.”

Quinn shot him a glare. “That’s probably because I am. It’s the end of the cycle,” she reminded him. “I’ll be okay.”

“Why didn’t you recharge?” He toed off his boots, the action serving to add casualness to the question. “Isn’t that part of Sam’s job?”

“No,” she snapped. “It’s not.”

Nick didn’t move, but Quinn swore his entire body had tightened. “Since when?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Why won’t you answer me?”

Both their tones remained mild, but undercurrents surged. Quinn couldn’t face this now, not after last night’s emotional turmoil and today’s revelations.

“It’s none of your business, Nick.”

He drew in a breath. “Yeah, you’re right.” With a groan, he stretched until his fingers scraped the low ceiling. “I’m beat. You mind if I head to bed?”

“No, go ahead. You know where things are.”

“Yeah.”

She flipped a page, skimmed the list, and made a couple more notes. Nick didn’t leave. She waited, but he just stood, the air heavy with everything he didn’t say.

Finally, he moved away. “Good night, Quinn.”

“Night, Nick.”

When he closed the office door, she laid the roster on her desk and drew a deep breath of her own.

She hadn’t wanted to admit it, but Alana’s response rattled her as much as everything else tonight. Maybe more. The leech threat was general, and even the “Nick is rogue” thing wasn’t about her. But Quinn was used to being in the midst of everything the Society did. Barbara Valiant, the president—who Quinn suspected was over a hundred years old—often consulted with her to get the “younger generation’s perspective.” Quinn had served on a dozen national committees since she’d turned twenty-one, ran the Ohio chapter for four years, and was finishing her second term on the board. When she went to meetings in Boston, she always had dinner with Alana, whom she’d thought was a friend. Her abrupt dismissal didn’t compute.

Unless they’d not only heard Nick had gone rogue, they believed it.

And they thought Quinn was involved.