“Nick’s here.”
Sam threw up his hands and let them slap down onto his thighs. “Great. Perfect timing.”
The women, used to the friction between the two men, ignored him. “Thanks, Katie. Can you please tell him his room’s ready?”
“Sure.” Katie closed the door behind her.
Sam paced across the few feet behind his desk, muttering something about competition.
“He’s—” Quinn stopped her automatic protest. It wouldn’t do any good to say that Nick wasn’t competition, since it wasn’t exactly true and Sam might take it the wrong way. She bit her lip. Did he still hope she’d change her mind?
He halted, obviously making an effort to rein himself in. “So what’s he doing here now, anyway?”
Quinn didn’t have time to respond before Nick sauntered in.
“Hey, Sam.” He eyed the other man, his brow creasing when he sensed Sam’s hostility. “You tell him?” he asked Quinn.
“I didn’t get a chance to yet.”
Nick dropped into a chair in front of Quinn’s desk, turning it to make a triangle among the three of them. She stood frozen, her body practically vibrating with the friction filling the room. Sam stuck his hands on his hips, the move widening his body, and she would have sworn he stretched to his full height to tower over Nick. Not intimidated, Nick propped his work boot on the edge of Quinn’s desk and tilted his chair back, a smug smile flickering at the corners of his mouth.
“Tell me what?” Sam demanded.
“I’ve gone rogue,” Nick declared at the same time Quinn said, “We’ve got a leech.”
Sam looked from one to the other. Nick’s grin had expanded to fully cocky. Quinn, no doubt, looked grim. The room filled with implications, too many questions to be asked, and a metallic tang of fear from all three of them. Quinn could almost see Sam’s brain sorting through the mess to find the most immediate concern. Of course, that was the one sitting in front of him.
“Rogue? What does that mean?”
Nick shrugged and filched a peppermint from the bowl on Quinn’s desk. “No idea. And I haven’t. But some people seem to think I have, which will make the other problem worse. Raise your hand if you think that’s coincidence.”
No one did.
“The leech.” Sam stuck his hands on his hips and looked at Quinn again, concern and accusation on his face. “That’s the problem you came in here to tell me about. Not—”
She nodded, wishing she didn’t feel so relieved about the distraction from their discussion.
“Fuck.” He dropped into his chair. “That’s, like, a crisis, not a problem.”
“Not for us,” Nick said. “Not yet. But it will be. Quinn’s got a lot of power, and she’s public about it, so it’s a sure bet he’ll be after her.”
“Not until the moon’s full again. So we have some time.” Sam grabbed a pad out of a drawer and started writing. “Where’s he hit so far?”
“Tanda and Chloe.”
He stopped writing, and his sadness fed Quinn’s. Where were they right now? Had the leeching done physical damage as well as taking their power? Who was looking after them? She checked her watch. It was too late in the night to call Chloe in Rhode Island, but maybe Tanda was still up. Assuming she wanted to accept phone calls.
Sam went back to his notes. “They both draw their power from water.”
“They do?” Nick dropped his foot and the chair legs to the floor with a thump.
Quinn nodded. “Chloe from the ocean, Tanda from rain.”
“I wonder if that’s all he wants,” Nick said.
“I doubt it.” Quinn sat down and pulled out her cell phone. “It might explain why he could leech Chloe so soon after Tanda, if his preparation was similar. So he might hit another goddess whose power source is a form of water, but it won’t be where he stops.”
Nick frowned. “What’s that woman in Mississippi’s source? The one who said I’d gone rogue?”
“Jennifer.” She stiffened. “Flowing water. That’s why she’s near the river. Do you think—”
“She’s been hit already?” Nick dialed his cell phone. “There’s a chance.”
While he waited for his call to be answered, Quinn scrolled to find Tanda’s number. The line barely rang once before it went to voice mail. Quinn didn’t know what to say, so she hung up and listened to Nick’s side of his own conversation.
“Hey, it’s Nick. Jarrett. Yeah, you too. Hey, you know who’s got Jennifer…” He raised his eyebrows at Quinn.
“Hollinger,” she said, the name popping into her head. “Jennifer Hollinger. She’s in Vicksburg, Mississippi.”
Nick repeated the information and waited.