into gear and gave him a little wave.
As he watched her drive into the darkness, he found it curious that his band was already so far along in its transformation with Grace still being three weeks away from becoming entirely Chosen. Maybe she was closer to the change than he thought? His bond with her was already stronger than with any one of his prior charges.
Her burn lingered. He could still feel her, even though she’d traveled half a mile down the road. The feeling was enticing, to say the least. That Grace had just gotten in her car and driven off left him feeling bereft, disappointed. He wasn’t sure exactly what he had expected. He did, however, know he sure as hell shouldn’t want anything more than the impersonal good-night he’d gotten.
Quentin stood in the darkness, watching her taillights flash brightly as she braked before making a turn, then disappeared from sight. He needed a release. Some kind of avenue to get himself under control. Grace was under his guardianship. Nothing more. Nothing less.
He gave himself a mental shake as he made his way into the house, forcing his thoughts back to his duty. What he really needed to do was get her to the bank and back to Christophe’s, where he could protect her better. Maybe having her in close proximity where he knew she was safe would help. At this point, Grace didn’t need to know he had lived in Christophe’s house all this time. It was the way of the Guardian and Chosen. They lived their lives under the same roof, living together with the same purpose.
The fact that Grace was a beautiful female might prove to be a bit of a challenge for him. If he didn’t find a way to control his attraction to her, the necessary living arrangements could very well end up being the death of him.
Grace was somewhere between drifting and dreaming of moonlit faces when a light tap on her bedroom door stirred her.
“Grace? You awake?” her mother asked from the lighted bedroom doorway.
Irritated that the beginning of a Darius dream was interrupted, she opened one eye to a slit. “Barely.” With her luck, it wouldn’t be one of those dreams that picked up exactly where it left off, no matter how many times it was broken up with interruptions. The thought just irritated her more.
“I was just making sure you were home. I couldn’t sleep until I knew you were back.”
“Since when?” Grace cringed inside, realizing the filter from her brain to her mouth wasn’t fully awake yet.
Her mother’s face fell into a frown as her voice cracked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, nothing really, other than your timing couldn’t be more perfect.” Yep, her filter was apparently broken. Or out cold.
“My timing?” Her mother’s voice rose an octave.
Fully aware the timing issue was about way more than the dream, she decided to rip the Band-Aid off completely. No more picking at it. Grace sat straight up in bed and looked her mother square in the eye.
“Yes, your timing. Other than the obvious reasons, you decide now to worry and act all motherly, just three weeks before I turn eighteen? How convenient.”
Stunned, her mother stood in the doorway gazing painfully back at her. Grace could see a pool of tears forming in her eyes, but was too agitated to care. When her mother spoke again, it was barely above a murmur.
“Convenient? Is that what you really think? That I’ve been waiting around all this time for your inheritance? That I’ve not really cared for you?”
“It’s not what I think, Mom. It’s what I’ve felt.” Surprised by the anger rising within her, Grace focused on her breathing, trying to calm herself down.
“You don’t know anything,” her mother said loud enough for her to hear clearly. “And I don’t care what you think you’ve felt. All I’ve done the last eighteen years is care for and worry about you. I’ve always done what I’ve had to do.” Her mother’s spine straightened.
“I don’t know how it was when you were in school, but Maslow’s hierarchy of needs includes love.” An angry rush of heat tore through Grace’s body with every new word spoken. Her limbs trembled with the need to spring out of the bed, but she stiffened to keep her poised muscles in check.
Before answering, her mother took in a deep breath. “Clearly, you’re home safe. Not so sound, but you’re home, nonetheless. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Laney shut the door,