Deadly Intent (Linked Inc. Book 1) (4 page)

Chapter 6

Quinn woke to find dust motes dancing in the sunshine streaming in through the window.  Her big lumberjack boots were gone, and the covers lay over her chest, the silky texture at odds with the large man who usually occupied the bed.

She pulled the covers over her eyes and groaned. The Highlander’s musky scent filled her nose. The trip hadn’t been a dream. She flung the covers off her body and stared up at the stone ceiling. “This is payback for everything I’ve ever done wrong in my life, isn’t it?”

“No, dear, it’s destiny.” She heard the unmistakable ghostly whisper as the temperature dropped, chilling her cheeks.

She sat up to find not one but three ghosts staring back at her from the foot of the bed. The sight of them would have sent normal people screaming and running from the room, but she’d never been confused with normal. The man in the middle had a full red beard and matching hair color. A scar covered his left cheek and dipped down his neck, disappearing into green checkered plaid. His eyes were the same baby blue that matched Collin’s.

The woman in the royal blue dress, from the north tower, stood next to him. Her hand clutched where her heart would be. Her brunette curls were secured with a ruby-accented comb.

The ghost on Redbeard’s left didn’t resemble Collin at all. His hair was white and wavy, but there was no mistaking the colors of his tartan. She’d seen the exact same pattern yesterday on McGrabs-a-lot. He was related to Ian without question.

“Funny how you’re not haters because of the color of your plaid in the afterlife. Care to tell me how to get out of your motherland?”

“I told you she can see us,” the woman announced.

“Gwinnie, isn’t it?” Quinn said, sliding off the bed. “I don’t suppose you can explain to Collin, your great-great-whatever, that there isn’t a curse?”

They glanced between one another before turning their stares back to Quinn.

“You will set things right,” Gwinnie announced before all three of them shimmered out of sight.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Quinn grumbled, not even trying to cover the irritation lacing her voice. She spotted her boots by the door and slipped them on. After running her fingers through her hair, she used the rubber band on her wrist to pull it up in a ponytail. If she’d had her way, the doctor and police would give her access to her room and clear Johnny and her to return home.

Quinn stepped into the hall to hunt down Collin. The sickly sweet smell of last night was gone. Intrigued, she peered into the bedroom next door.
Not a single petal or leaf was in sight.

“He kept his word.” Warmth that she hadn’t felt in five years flooded her chest. She shoved the feeling away. He was just a man trying to accommodate her because she’d returned his gem. Still, the gesture was sweet. Quinn went out on the landing and stared below. Maids were dusting the room. The vase that had been sitting on the antique table was gone, and a smile split her lips.

Jogging down the stairs, she smiled politely at the maid who’d pinched her yesterday. “Can you tell me where to find Collin?”

“Aye, Miss Thatcher.”

“My friends call me Quinn, and since we’re already on a pinching basis, I guess that includes you.”

“Your friends pinch you?” she asked, her brows dipped in confusion.

“That and worse.”

“I’m Abigail, miss. If you’ll just follow me, the others are sitting down to morning breakfast.”

“Thanks, Abby.” 

Quinn walked alongside her as she made several turns down different hallways. They passed by another large entrance where Quinn slowed to get a better look. Old-timey paintings hung on the wall, along with a crest and crossed swords. Suits of armor did indeed line the wall, making her chuckle. “Must be the ballroom.”

“Yes, miss.”

“Quinn,” she reminded her.

“Yes, Miss Quinn.”

“Just Quinn.”

“Quinn,” she repeated. “I’ll be happy to help you if you need anything during your stay. The staff has been informed of your presence, and we are at your service.”

“I don’t suppose you know how to fly a plane.”

“No, Miss…Quinn, afraid no’.”

Abby stopped at the entrance to the dining room and gestured. Quinn gave her a good old southern smile and stepped inside the room, expecting to find Collin sitting alone at the table. She was wrong.

Chairs scratched the floor as three men stood. A blonde-haired woman sitting next to Collin at the table ignored Quinn’s arrival and continued drinking from the fine china. Quinn had learned early in life to ignore the aura’s around everyone’s body, but this woman’s color was hard to ignore. It was the same color as baby poop

Good thing the food didn’t smell the same way. The smell of fresh bacon drifted to her nose, making her stomach growl.

“Quinn, please come in and join us for breakfast.”

“If I can just get a lift back into town, I can grab something from the pub.” Quinn gestured with her thumb over her shoulder as she silently wondered if Abby knew how to drive.

“Great idea. I can take her.” The woman at the table shoved back her chair and raised her brow with a forced smile. Quinn had seen that smile before. She’d given it a time or two. It oozed “woman on her period ready to fight to the death for the last piece of chocolate in the universe.” Game on, sister. Quinn gave her a lopsided grin and sauntered into the room straight up to Collin, ignoring the others. She rested her hand on his bulging bicep and met his gaze. “Thanks for letting me sleep in your room last night. It was magical.”

Ian busted out in laughter as the woman’s eyes narrowed in contempt. The other man at the table rested his palm on Blondie’s arm as if ready to stop her from scratching out Quinn’s eyes. Quinn wasn’t worried. There was plenty of silverware within reach.

Collin’s eyes sparkled as he smiled down at Quinn and cupped her cheek. His palm was warm and soft to the touch as he lowered his head, never dropping her gaze until his lips were mere inches from hers. “You thought last night was magical? You havenae seen anything yet.”

He slipped his arm around Quinn’s waist and pulled her flush against his hard body as he kissed her lips. She didn’t question why he was helping her bait the blonde woman; she didn’t care. The heat of his mouth seared Quinn to the soul as her heart raced frantically in her chest. His tongue toyed with hers, sipping, taking, and meeting hers at every move. Touché. 

He slowly pulled away. “You’ll stay and eat, then I’ll show you the grounds.”

“You win.” She grinned, already spying the biscuits on the table. She’d planned to grab one on her way out, but this was so much more fun than eating alone. She silently wondered how many locals she could piss off before Johnny got well.

“Ian, you wouldn’t mind moving down to make room for Quinn, would you?”

“Of course not. I've finished anyway.” Ian moved his plate and put a fresh one in its place before holding out Quinn’s chair.

Blondie snapped her mouth shut and tossed her napkin on her uneaten food.

“Well.” She huffed. “I’ve lost my appetite. If you’ll excuse me.” She stomped from the room.

“It was a pleasure meeting you,” Quinn called out after her, hoping for one last jab, even though she really wanted to sing,
Booyah, I got your boyfriend,
and then do a chair dance that would make her mother cringe. Okay, so maybe that was a dick move, or what men would refer to as a cock block, but she didn’t like Blondie’s sneer or her puke-green aura.

The other guy, who had been at the table, excused himself seconds after the woman, and Ian grabbed a biscuit and raised it in a wave. “It’s always a pleasure, Quinn.”

“Aww shucks, there’s no reason to lie to my face, Ian.”

Ian chuckled as he continued out of the room, leaving Collin and Quinn alone.

“I thought the blonde Barbie was going to jump me,” Quinn said, grabbing a biscuit and muffin from the table. She plopped down in Ian’s old seat.

“She’s jealous,” Collin said, retaking his seat. “She’s been trying to get me to kiss her like that since she stepped foot inside the castle. I’m going to owe you for the rest of my life, first returning my emerald and now getting Margarete to leave me alone. Avoiding her was a full-time job. I’m beginning to think you’re my good luck charm.”

“Now, Collin, I’m sure if you had just told her you only like brunettes or redheads with big breasts, she would have taken the hint.”

“I’m afraid you’re wrong. I dinnae think anything would have ever stopped her from trying. She would have dyed her hair and scheduled a breast implant.”

“If you don’t like her, then why is she here?” she asked before sinking her teeth into the blueberry muffin. She moaned in appreciation. The muffin was fluffy and flavorful, definitely not from a package of ingredients that she couldn’t pronounce. “I’m going to make your cook my new best friend.” 

“She’ll be happy to hear that. You have a healthy appetite.” Collin grinned.

“Doesn’t everyone?” Quinn asked before taking another bite.

“Margarete eats like a bird and complains about the food much of the time.”

“Tell me again why you tolerate her.”

“She’s an interior decorator, restoring the rooms on the west side of the castle back to their former glory after an unfortunate fire.”

Quinn swallowed. “Ah, you need her but don’t want a booty call. I get it. It’s like that time my pool guy took off his shirt. Tempting, but he must have been drinking the pool chemicals because he was short a few screws. Well, not screws if you know what I mean.” Quinn wiggled her brows. “I’m sure he got plenty of action, just not from me. Speaking of screwing, is the universe still playing with me, or did my pilot make a miraculous recovery?”

“I spoke with the doctor last night before I tucked you in. Johnny is still very sick, and the official diagnosis is measles. Since a rash has appeared, he is contagious.”

“How long am I looking at?”

“Possibly two weeks, could be less. They’ve transported him to a hospital in the nearby town. One other housekeeper had a fever and was taken as a precaution.”

Quinn’s heart fell into her stomach. Her annoyance was replaced with concern. Poor, poor Johnny.  Here she was sitting in a castle with amazing food, having fun pissing off the locals, and Johnny was stuck in a hospital, probably covered in anti-itch lotion. Quinn’s skin crawled. She pulled her shirt away from her chest and peered down at her creamy skin. She sighed in relief. False alarm. No rashes.

“Your ghosts are conspiring against me,” she announced, pouring a cup of coffee from the carafe. “I woke up to find three of them staring at me. Gwinnie thinks I’m here to set things right.”

“Who were the other two?” Collin asked, before sipping his coffee.

“Well, we didn’t have a formal introduction, but one looks like an older version of you with red hair and beard, and the other was a white-haired fellow wearing Ian’s colors.”

“Sounds like Alastair, my four times great-grandfather, and his rival, Alexander McDougall. The stone was stolen during their time.”

“Well, now it’s returned. I’ve set things right; so why are they being creepy and watching me sleep?”

“The curse,” he answered as though he believed it himself. Quinn was starting to get the suspicion that he did. Who was the weird one now?

“I don’t believe in curses,” she announced. She didn’t even want to know what the curse entailed. No ancestor or dead gypsy had any say in her life or her future.

“You’ve made that abundantly clear, but arenae you the least bit interested?”

“I’m about as interested as a toll booth operator, on a road closed for construction, looking for the next car.” She shook her head. The thought of being the catalyst of the curse gave her a headache.

“Disease, death, fire, and fallen men are foretold in the tale. Measles is just the start.”

“Hey.” She pulled at the blueberry muffin. “I wasn’t the one to inflict the measles. It’s just a coincidence that my pilot was the carrier. Did your curse mention that?”

“Actually, it reads: A woman with hair of fire, and eyes the color of the stolen stone, will descend from the sky. Her word will carry a bite and sting worse than the fiercest beast, making the lines between past and present blur.”

“Any redhead with green eyes fits that description.”

“Disease will spread; death will follow; walls will crumble, and men will fall.”

“That’s a lot to put on my shoulders, don’t you think?” Quinn sipped her coffee.

“Friend or foe, it is she who controls the Menzie destiny and will bring down the deceit of once noble men, making them fall from grace into hell.”

“Don’t you think that’s a bit vague?” she asked. “That’s like saying one of your unborn children will be a girl. Why not give details and say one of your children will be a unicorn with rainbow hair? Now that would be interesting, and something I’d stick around to watch.”

Collin smiled. “You arenae quite right, Quinn Thatcher.”

“Words to live by,” she said, standing and slipping her phone with the half-dead battery from her pocket. “I need to call Johnny’s family and check in with my sisters.”