Night World - The Chosen Part 18

Rashel watched as the yacht got bigger and bigger. They were close to it no w. They were there.

"Come on. We can climb up the swimming ladder. Come on, fast," Quinn said.

He was reaching for her, his face unfamiliar in a mask of soot, his eyes intense. Absolutely focused, absolutely determined.

Thank G.o.d he knows what to do on a boat. I wouldn't. She let Quinn help h er up the ladder, then helped Timmy and Nyala. Nyala had stopped laughing entirely now. She was simply gasping, looking bewildered.

"What happened? What-?" She stared toward the cliffs where orange flame was shooting into the sky. "I did that. Did I do that?"

Quinn had pulled up the anchor. He was heading for the c.o.c.kpit. Timmy was crying.

Kneeling on the deck, Rashel held Nyala. Nyala's eyelashes were burned to crisp curls. There was white ash on the ends. Her mouth was trembling and her body shook as if she were having convulsions.

"I had to do it," she got out in a thick voice. "You know I had to, Rashel."

Timmy sobbed on. A motor roared to life. All at once they were moving swift ly and the island with its burning torch was falling behind.

"I had to," Nyala said in a choked voice. "I had to. I had to."

Rashel leaned to rest her head on Nyala's hair. Wind was whipping around he r as they raced away. She held the tiny vampire in one arm and the tremblin g human girl in the other. And she watched the fire get smaller and smaller until it looked like a star on the ocean.

CHAPTER 17.

Hunter's yacht was bigger than the powerboat Quinn had brought to the isl and. There was a salon down in the cabin and two separate staterooms. Rig ht now, Timmy was in one of them. Nyala was in another. Quinn had put the m both to sleep.

Quinn and Rashel were in the c.o.c.kpit.

"Do you think any of the vampires got out?" Rashel said softly.

"I don't know. Probably." His voice was as quiet as hers.He was filthy, covered with sand and soot, burned here and there, and wildl y disheveled. He had never looked more beautiful to Rashel.

"You saved Nyala," she whispered. "And I know you did it for me."

He looked at her and some of the tense focus went out of his eyes. The hardn ess in his face softened.

Rashel took his hand.

She didn't know how to say the rest of what she meant. That she knew he ha d changed, that he was changing every minute. She could almost feel the ne w parts of his mind opening and growing-or rather, the old parts, the part s he'd deliberately left behind when he stopped being human.

"Thank you, John Quinn," she whispered.

He laughed. It wasn't a savage laugh, or a bitter laugh, or even the charming Mad Hatter laugh. It was just a real laugh. Tired and shaky, but happy.

"What else could I do?"

Then he reached for her and they were holding each other. They might look l ike two refugees from a disaster movie, but all Rashel felt was the singing joy of their closeness. It was such comfort to be able to hold on to Quinn , and such wonder to feel him holding her back.

A feeling of peace stole over her.

There were still problems ahead. She knew that. Her mind was already click ing through them, forming a dim checklist of things to worry about when sh e regained the ability to worry.

Hunter and the other vampires. They might still be alive. They might come l ooking for revenge. But even if they did . . . Rashel had spent her whole l ife fighting the Night World alone. Now she had Quinn beside her, and toget her they could take on anything.

Daphne and the girls. Rashel felt sure they were safe; she trusted Annelise and Keiko. But once they got home, they'd be traumatized. They would need help. And someone would need to figure out what they should tell the rest o f the world.

Not that anyone would believe it was real vampires who had kidnapped them if they said so, Rashel thought. The police would pa.s.s it off as a cult or somet hing. Still, the girls know the truth. They may be fresh recruits for the fig ht. . . .

Against what? How could she be a vampire hunter now? How could she try to destroy the Night World?

Where could a reformed vampire and a burned-out vampire hunter go when th ey fell in love?

The answer, of course, was obvious. Rashel knew even as she formed the que stion, and she laughed silently into Quinn's shoulder.

Circle Daybreak. They'd become d.a.m.ned Daybreakers.

Granted, they weren't the type to dance in circles with flowers in their hair, singing about love and harmony and all that. But if Circle Daybreak was going to make any headway, it needed something besides love and harmony.

It needed a fighting arm. Somebody to deal with the vampires who were hope lessly evil and bent on destruction. Somebody to save people like Nyala's sister. Somebody to protect kids like Timmy.

Come to think of it, Circle Daybreak was where Nyala and Timmy belonged, too. Right now they need peace and healing, and people who would unders tand what they'd been through. I don't know, Rashel thought, maybe witch es can help.

She hoped so. She thought Nyala would be all right-there was a kind of inner strength to the girl that kept her fighting. She wasn't so sure about Timmy . Trapped in a four-year-old body, his mind twisted by whatever lies Hunter had told him . . . what kind of normal life could he ever have?

But he was alive, and there was a chance. And maybe there were parts of hi s mind that were bright and warm and aching to grow.

Elliot and Vicky and the other vampire hunters. Rashel would have to talk to them, try to explain what she'd learned. She didn't know if they'd listen.

But she would have to try.

"All anybody can do is try," she said softly.

Quinn stirred. He leaned back to look into her face. "You're right," he said, and she realized that he'd been thinking about the same things.

Our minds work alike, she thought. She had found her partner, her equal, th e one to work and live and love with her. Her soulmate.

"I love you, John Quinn," she said.

And then they were kissing each other and she was finding in him a tendernes s that even she hadn't suspected. But it made sense. After all, the opposite of absolute ruthlessness is absolute tenderness-and when you ripped the one away, you were left with the other.

I wonder what else I'll find out about him? She thought, dizzy with discovery.

Whatever it is, it's sure to be interesting.

"I love you, Rashel Jordan," he said against her lips.

Not Rashel the Cat. The Cat was dead, and all the old anger and the hate h ad burned away. It was Rashel Jordan who was starting a new future.

She kissed Quinn again and felt the beauty and the mystery of his thoughts. "

Hold me tighter," she whispered. "I'm a little cold."

"You are? I feel so warm. It's spring tomorrow, you know."

And then they both were quiet, lost in each other. The boat sped on through the sparkling ocean and into the promise of the moonlit night.