The Turn (The Hollows 0.1)

“No one eats tomatoes for breakfast,” Daniel said, and then his eyes widened in alarm.

She turned to look, her intake of breath pulling Piscary’s attention as well. A shadow of a man had detached itself from the building and was striding after Leo. Her lips parted to call out a warning, but Leo had sensed him and spun.

“Ellen,” Piscary said shortly, and the woman reached for her door.

More car doors were opening as the vehicle behind them emptied and the lot began to fill with wary vampires. Yelling at them that he was hers, Ellen jogged forward. The shadow stopped, a hand raised in placation.

Trisk felt her expression go blank. “Quen,” she whispered, recognizing his silhouette. “That’s Quen!” she shouted, fumbling for her door. “Don’t hurt him. Quen!”

“Dr. Cambri, get back in the car!” Piscary demanded, but she was out and pushing her way past the tall vampires between her and the storefront.

“Get out of my way!” Trisk shoved the last man aside. Her eyes widened. “Stop!” she shouted as the Asian woman did a martial arts move and Quen hit the ground, his hand on his stomach as he tried to breathe. Running forward, Trisk tapped a line, loath to actually use it in the street. “I said stop!” she cried out. “What is wrong with you people! He’s my friend!”

Quen looked up. Guilt flashed over him, and then his eyes dropped. The woman’s domineering posture shifted as she looked past Trisk to Piscary, now out of the car. He must have told her to back off, because her hand drawn back to strike slowly extended to help Quen up. He took it, rising to his full height, then stumbled back when Trisk crashed into him.

“Whoa. Trisk,” Quen said, and she gave him a hug, arms wrapped awkwardly around him as the scent of honey and shortbread puffed up between them. “Hey . . .”

She let go enough to look up at him, sorrow crossing her face as she saw the healing pox scars past the thick stubble. The rash was gone, but it would forever mark him. “I—I thought . . .” she stammered. “How did you find us? You ran away like an old cat to die!”

He smiled down at her, his short-cropped hair catching the light coming out of the store window. “I never left you,” he said, his fingers touching her hair, running down its length to straighten the necklace he’d given her. She’d never taken it off, finding strength in it.

“What do you mean, you never left?” she asked, letting go of him when she realized the watching vampires were chuckling at them. But then she thought about it. The distraction with the Weres in Chicago, the flash of distant light and the falling rock at the ambush, and now this. “That was you? Why?”

Quen took her arms and bodily shifted her back a step. “Because I’m a fool,” he said, reluctantly letting go of her as he looked past her at Daniel, who had boldly pushed through the ring of vampires as if they were just everyday people. “Human blood is not a shame, but an honor,” he added, and Daniel seemed to lose some of his frustration. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left.”

“If not for you, we never would have gotten away. Just don’t do it again,” she said, simply glad he was back. Still holding his arm protectively, she turned to Piscary. The elegant, somewhat small man looked out of place in front of the tired, dilapidated store.

“Sir,” Quen said respectfully, and Piscary stepped forward, eyeing Quen’s healing pox scars.

“Leo said someone followed him from the roadblock.” A pale hand lifted, almost touching him. “You were so beautiful. Like a warrior poet of old.”

Quen’s eyes narrowed in warning, but it wasn’t until the Asian woman visibly stiffened that Piscary’s hand dropped. “He still is,” Trisk said, and the vampires behind them chuckled.

Clearly more put off than afraid, Quen watched Piscary’s men begin to break up. “I saw Kal,” he said, and hope spilled back into her. “Ulbrine was with him.” He turned to Trisk. “When he left Piscary’s in such a hurry, I knew you were safe. Trisk, I shouldn’t have left you. Sick or not.”

“It’s okay.” The fervent pressure he gripped her with was worrying. “Where are they?”

Quen’s gaze lifted to the night. “Hiding with those seeking comfort. The basilica.”

Leo whistled, arms moving to point at two of the better-dressed vampires, then the night.

“We’re within a half mile,” Piscary said as his entire posse except Ellen vanished on swift feet, their orders either silent or already known. “Why is your charm not working?”

Head down, Trisk thumped the ring of metal against her palm as if it were a malfunctioning radio. “I don’t know. Perhaps Ulbrine is blocking it.” Quen’s hand on her elbow, they started back to the car, a new hope quickening their steps.