Paragon

⊰❉⊱ 30 ⊰❉⊱

I rose in the elevator wearing fifty holes in my clothes.

The smell of their blood flickered in places on my shirt. But it was at the back of my mind. The dull burn was nothing of consequence. Nothing compared to what it would soon be.

When the doors opened I strode down the dimly lit hallway that shined with mahogany side tables and well carved doors. I passed a maid who almost tripped over when she glanced at my chaotic appearance. We would not be staying long either way–her acknowledgement of me meant little. I turned the corner and saw two men in suits posted outside the door at the end.

Their eyes locked onto me instantly and they straightened. I flicked a wrist behind me and they moved from her door calmly and passed me with murmurs and nods.

I flicked the key card over the gold bar and the door clicked. I let myself in and was hit with a direct wave of Quinn's scent. I had been away from it too long. Now it assaulted me more than any spilt blood ever could–and far sweeter. I should have sated the need earlier.

I checked the ornate rooms. I checked the bedrooms. My blood ran colder at every empty space. Then I checked the bathroom. I felt the hot steam as I turned the handle in a warm invitation. There at the end of the marble room was Quinn Adams. With her legs propped over the edge of the cavernous bathtub set into the floor and wireless headphones in her ears.

Her head bobbed to the rhythm of music and her face was relaxed into one that soaked in the foam and scented air with eyes closed. I tilted my head watching her. I let that thick scent wrap itself around me, letting my inner demon bare its teeth and fight for dominance. I wondered what it was she listened to.

I stepped out of my shoes at the threshold and walked forward silently.

Her head kept its rhythm to the beat as I dropped into a crouch before her. Her golden tan skin shined in the fog of the heat and her hair was in a damp bun over her head. I caught a loose strand about to pull it into place when her eyes flashed open in shock and she splashed her arm out into my face.

I kept still as I felt a layer of foam drip slowly down my face. Quinn lowered her arm with panicked breaths as she took me in. Then the shock melted into laughter. I wiped a hand over my face clearing it as I shook my head.

She pulled out her headphones and threw them up onto the counter.

"Give a girl warning Fletcher–" She muttered, wiping a line of foam off my jaw and suddenly freezing. Her eyes ran over my clothing quickly and widened. "–what on earth happened–are you–you're not–" She sputtered.

I caught her hand and her heartbeat pulsed enticingly.

"It's done."

"You didn't answer any of the many questions I tried to ask." She retorted, pulling her hand back and pushing the collar of my jacket away to see the dark patch staining my shirt. I shuddered at the warmth of her wet hand on me.

"There's no more work to be done here, that's all that matters." I murmured, catching her disbelieving eyes.

She ignored my calm and placed her hand against my neck. I froze under her and pulled on my restraint tightly. Her fingers drifted down wiping away what I knew was someone else's blood. She lingered on it before shaking her head and nodding next to her.

"Get in."

I almost choked on the air around us.

"Quinn absolutely not–"

"I'm not having you walk around like a Jackson Pollock painting."

I smiled despite it and raised an eyebrow, "You're a fan of his work?"