Under the Moon (44 page)

After a moment of silence, Barbara asked, “Do you have anything to add?”

“No.”

“Do the members of the board have any further questions?”

They shook their heads.

“Alana will show you to my office. I’ll speak to you there after our deliberations.”

They all stood, and the door opened. Quinn followed Alana into the hall, relieved no one had thought—or been brave enough—to ask her what had happened to the power she’d taken from Anson.

Alana led Quinn down the hall to the president’s office, her demeanor stiff and awkward. When they sat in the guest chairs in front of the desk, the executive director folded her arms and wouldn’t meet Quinn’s eyes.

At first, Quinn didn’t understand the change from Alana’s earlier animosity. But then a possible reason came to her. “Does she know Anson got to you, too?”

It was a guess, and Quinn wasn’t sure what she’d do if Alana admitted he had, but the other woman scowled and tightened her arms against herself. “He didn’t get to me.”

Quinn raised her eyebrows.

“He tried,” she admitted. “And, well, yes, I liked him. But I never gave him anything.”

The way she said it made Quinn narrow her eyes. “So he took it.”

Alana jerked a nod.

“The database? He got access. That’s how he targeted everyone.”

“Yes,” Alana said. “And believe me, it haunts me.”

Quinn nodded, understanding. It would haunt all of them for a long time. “So Barbara plans to talk to me in here? Why not call me back to the conference room?”

“I think they made their decision before you came in. They just need to confirm it.”

Quinn would be upset if she didn’t think it was going to go in her favor. “What does she want?”

“I don’t know.”

The tall door opened and Barbara entered. “Thank you for waiting, Quinn. Alana, you can go back to work.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Alana left, and Barbara circled her desk to sit with a sigh.

“Quite a month we’ve had.”

“Yes.”

“I’m sure you can tell the board has decided not to sanction or punish you for crossing the line. I’m sorry to put you through that, but we have to follow procedure.” She sighed and looked very tired and very old. “This has been a horribly trying situation, I don’t need to tell you, and I’m afraid it’s not going to be the last.”

Quinn frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The mainstream media is digging at the story, at the rumor that goddess power is transferrable. Half of them are taking a skeptical approach, which won’t cast goddesses in a positive light but will help suppress the truth. If the half who are treating it seriously prevail, however, it’s possible others will try to take power.”

“But they can’t just take it,” Quinn protested. “It doesn’t work like that.”

Barbara laughed, the sound more cynical than Quinn thought her capable. “That doesn’t matter. They’ll still try. The Protectorate is already working to increase its staff and alter its methods, as now in-power goddesses will be vulnerable, as well. The board will need to provide a whole new range of services for our members, from the educational programs Marley will start to a much larger, more effective security team.”

“It sounds like a good plan.” But the sentiment was hollow. Quinn no longer felt part of the board, or even the Society as a whole. Right now, she wasn’t sure she cared.

“I want you to consider running for president next year.”

“No way.” She didn’t hesitate. Politics had become her enemy, and she desperately wanted home. “You have a successor, anyway.” The vice president wasn’t as old or as experienced as Barbara, but she wasn’t incompetent.

“We need someone who’s been in the trenches, Quinn, who has experienced what’s out there and knows how to survive it. This is a new age. It needs a new leader.”

“It doesn’t have to be me.”

“But it should be. You’re now the most powerful goddess on earth.”

Quinn couldn’t suppress her shock. She wanted to protest but couldn’t bring herself to lie. The power of five other goddesses swirled and danced inside her, and though she hadn’t tried to use it, her old limitations didn’t seem to exist anymore.

Which meant her old needs didn’t exist anymore.

Yanking her thoughts away from that familiar yet way too new and raw pain, Quinn waited for Barbara to ask her about that power. How much she had now, how it manifested, what Quinn was going to do about it. But none of those questions seemed to even occur to the older woman. Uneasy as she was about hiding it, Quinn was too afraid of what they’d do to her if they had any inkling how foreign and dangerous it felt.

So she turned to the mundane and asked about the goddesses who’d helped Anson. “He said something about people wanting to be normal. Is that why they worked with him?”

Barbara sighed and nodded. “I’m afraid so. We were able to track them last night, after the team took Anson into custody. He’d promised them that if they did what he needed, he’d give them the way to live normal lives. That’s another aspect we’ll need to address in the counseling program. No goddess should ever feel she has to turn to outsiders like that.”

“No.” Quinn couldn’t imagine wanting to
not
be a goddess anymore. What had their lives been like, that they’d resorted to attacking other goddesses?

Barbara checked her watch and stood. “Please think about running for president,” she urged. “I know you have a business in Ohio, but it’s not like you’d start immediately. Jeannine will still serve her term next year, but we plan to change the structure of the board with new bylaws next spring, and pending the acceptance of the membership, you would be the ideal leadership for the new Society.”

Quinn agreed to consider it, but only to end the conversation. She had too much to do, too many other changes to adjust to, and the presidency would require more time and attention than she wanted to give right now. Maybe at some point in the future she could think about it.

When she emerged from the elevator in the lobby a few minutes later, Marley waited for her. She crossed the marble floor tentatively, wiping her hands on her jeans.

“How did it go?”

“Fine. No problems.” She studied her sister, taking note of the circles under her eerie eyes, her sallow complexion. Quinn understood now the soul-deep scars the leeching had left on her sister. “You okay? Get any sleep?”

“Not really. But it’s okay, I will. Did they tell you my punishment?”

“Yeah. It sounds like a good plan. You’ll be great at it.”

“I’m happy. Barbara seems determined to make changes, and I’m all for that.” She laughed, a hint of unease still apparent. “I have to start next week.”

“What will you do with the inn?”

She sighed. “Fran’s going to run it until I get home.” She took a deep breath. “Quinn, I have something to ask you.” Unease was an understatement now. Marley shoved her hands deep into her pockets, her shoulders rising to meet her ears. “It’s about Sam.”

Sorrow splintered in Quinn’s heart. “What about him?”

“What’s between you?”

Quinn thought about all the years of recharging, all the ways Sam made her life easier, both in the bar and with her other clients, and how much he meant to her, even now. She couldn’t explain something so complex. “He’s my assistant,” she finally said, as inadequate as the description was.

“You don’t have a…relationship with him?”

“I’m sorry. I can’t talk about this.” It hurt too much, knowing she was probably about to lose her best friend. She crossed the lobby toward the exit, her hand coming up to press against her chest, as if she could touch the pain there.

“Wait, Quinn.”

She sighed and stopped. Marley came around to face her. “When we were at the inn, after you left and he woke up, we talked a little. He said he might be looking for a new job. It would be great if he could come work for me for a while. But I want a relationship with you. If you feel like I’ve stolen him…”

“You couldn’t if you tried,” she said before she could stop herself, pain making her lash out. He’d made plans even before telling her he was going. “It’s Sam’s choice. If he wants to lea—to quit working for me and come to Boston, that’s for him to decide. I promise I won’t hold anything against you.” She cleared her throat. “I want a relationship with you, too.”

“Okay.” Marley stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Quinn, who hugged her back. “I’m so glad you found me,” Marley whispered. Quinn squeezed her tighter. Her sister had lost a lot but was already trying to rebuild her life.

The shield she’d maintained around the power inside her suddenly rent. The part of it that had been Marley’s seemed to recognize its origination, and it churned and surged, dragging with it the other powers, intertwined and irrevocably bound. The same headiness Quinn felt after pulling it from Anson made her sway, a euphoria climbing up through her.

Normally, with the full moon waning and moving away from her, using power would take considerable effort. But now, it was easier than it had ever been. The energy wanted to be used, and Quinn knew she could do anything she wanted to, with only a thought.

Almost anything.

She opened a conduit to her sister, attempting to bestow power back to her. But Marley was too damaged and couldn’t accept it. It rolled back into Quinn, shrinking from the dim grayness that was Marley’s capacity.

“It won’t work,” Marley choked out as she pulled away. “You’re generous to try, but I can’t take it.”

Generosity had little to do with it. Quinn didn’t want this. It was too dangerous, too damaging. “Why?”

“I want it. I crave it like a junkie.” The tears flowed down her face now. “But I’m like a cracked vase. I can’t hold it.”

It was an accurate description. Tears welled in Quinn’s eyes, too. “I’m sorry, Marley. I don’t want it. I’d do anything to transfer it.”

“No, you wouldn’t. It would do harm, and you won’t let that happen anymore.”

Marley was right. Maybe Quinn could force it, but if the vessel couldn’t hold it, if Marley couldn’t control it, she’d be even more broken, especially if Quinn couldn’t separate the energies and return only what was taken. She’d have to find out if all the goddesses were damaged the way Marley was, but even if they weren’t, would bestowing power back on them turn
them
into leeches? How could she research something that had never happened before?

It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t rest until she found a way to make everything right again.

“I’m sorry,” Quinn repeated.

“It’s okay. It’s my punishment.” Marley shrugged. “I have to accept that.” She squeezed her sister’s hand, then backed away. “Thanks for everything.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

“Me, too. I already intend to tap you for this educational program.” Marley sniffed and rubbed her face on her sleeve. “Take care of yourself.”

“You, too.”

Quinn went outside and hailed a cab, which promptly got caught in traffic. She closed her eyes and tried not to think, but that proved impossible.

She was on her way to end her life as she’d known it. In truth, it had ended the moment Nick showed up early and told her about the leech. Before that, even, when she and Sam stopped being lovers.

She had to let him go. Really, truly, completely go. Even if he’d resigned himself to not having her, she knew he couldn’t live his own life if he kept serving hers. It would kill her to fire him. She would if she had to, but she knew, deep down, that he wouldn’t make her.

Nick would leave, too. The power she held would always be there, strong enough to make her invulnerable. No matter what the new global reality was going to be, she would be one goddess who didn’t need a protector. And there were so many more Nick could help.

The cab rolled forward, but when Quinn opened her eyes she spotted a tiny park off to the right. A copse of trees called to her.

“Let me off here, please.”

When she entered the shade, everything else seemed to disappear. The traffic noise faded enough to sound like wind. A robin sang on a branch above her, and a real breeze caressed her face. She sank down on the plush grass, buried her face in her arms, and wept.