Paragon - Chapter 19: Chapter 19

"Ms Fletcher, I have a Quinn Adams for you." The front desk informed politely–yet unsure.
Of course the mortal was unsure I never invited a single soul here–and how the hell did she know where I lived?!
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
"Send her up."
I set the phone down carefully and diverted my anger through breathing. I headed for the bedroom. Quickly pulling out the first dark shirt I saw from the top draw and a non intimidating pair of black jeans. They fit me like a glove and were the only informal thing I owned–apart from that criminal gym wear...
I heard the elevator ding from here and pulled the door open as the Lawyer herself strolled in entirely unconcerned.
She walked straight past me before I could even begin to question her.
"I keep thinking over it and don't see the point in waiting." She remarked casually, looking around the living room.
"Oh, make yourself at home. Please." I drawled, crossing my arms over my chest and feeling the wet strands of hair soaking my shirt.
She glanced at me with a growing look of amusement before eyeing my bare feet and wet hair.
"Okay I should have called–"
"How do you know where I live?" I demanded.
She leant back against the L sofa and pocketed her hands.
"The next time you think I'm too drunk to snap a number plate you should reconsider." She smirked again. "I have my own guy that can track leads."
I froze. Realising she had in fact run Pearson's plate that night. Why was she so damn efficient at processing information–
"You're a nightmare." I deadpanned, walking towards the kitchen counter and sinking my elbows on it.
"More so than you it seems." She snorted, casting her eyes back across the living room and landing on the piano. "Impressive accommodation for a civil servant."
"I've had a few more careers than a detective." I murmured, loud enough for her to nod.
"Is it for show or do you play?" She asked with genuine curiosity, eyeing the ornate wood of the piano again.
"Sometimes." I noted dryly. I didn't dare move from the safety of the solid granite island I leant on.
"That means you're talented." She dismissed, standing from the chair and looking deliberately at the fridge and many other appliances behind me.
"Quinn." I warned.
She ignored me and crossed the room bringing her scent with it. I exhaled aggressively trying to wash it out of my system and failing.
"This is hardly taking the time to think things through. It's only been a few hours." I grit out.
She shrugged and waltzed past my perch to open the chrome fridge doors behind me. I turned and frowned when she pulled out a carton of milk.
"This would be quite convincing if it weren't for the date." She remarked with a smirk. "I don't think fake milk from 2018 is very–"
I growled low and moved faster than she could anticipate, swiping the carton from her and slamming the door shut. Her eyes flickered down to my wet shirt and loose hair before they found my eyes again.
"This isn't a museum for mortals." I said darkly.
"You're right this is much too invasive." She replied with heavy irony, "–almost as much as following me to my after hours gym session or tracking me–"
"Okay." I interrupted sharply. Trying my best to ignore the heavy scent of her sweet perfume that was tangling with her delicious blood. I set the milk down and strode back towards the safety of the large living room space.
"Is there anything unimpressive about your life?" She scoffed, glancing at my extensive bookshelf and closing the distance to it.
I shrugged and moved near to the glass wall overlooking the treetops of Hyde Park.
"Define it and I might be able to find something."
But she ignored the comment and seemed intent on something else. "These are all originals." She mumbled, unaware I could hear her from just about anywhere in the flat.
"A few have the author's notes." I agreed, watching the city below. "I met a number of them."
She sucked in a breath and I heard pages ruffle behind me. I chuckled.
"What about that?"
I turned and saw her staring at one of many oil paintings in the room. I grinned and nodded.
"You have a god damn Monet." She stuttered. "Just hanging there."
"Actually I have five."
She whirled on me and I grinned. "What? You are a fan, Adams?"
"These are worth more than my house. Fletcher."
I scoffed. "You cannot put a price on a cultural icon. He created some of his best work after the first World War." I shrugged and glanced back out the window.
"This is insane." She concluded as she walked to another painting and eyed it closely. "So many paintings were lost... they thought the Germans burned them when really they're probably sitting in your living room." She laughed.
I smirked out the glass. "It's true. I look after many artefacts rather than risk another repeat in history. Claude also knew they were safe with me." I told her, careful to leave out the small detail that many immortals in Paragon did the exact same.
She shook her head at me. "Do you still have the uniform?"
I met her green eyes in question before realisation hit me. "I lost it."
She frowned. "It sounds like the transformation wasn't easy."
"The hardest thing in my life." I murmured, watching her take a few more dangerous steps towards my position. "Total loss of control. Giving in to nothing but desire and instinct... You remind me of it." I mused, hearing her heartbeat spike. I smirked.
"But you changed." She stated, assured by the notion.
I tilted my head at her with a slow smile. Her proximity wasn't as dangerous as her pressing a hand to my skin but it still made everything sharper. More detailed. Like a shot of adrenaline. "Who said anything about that?"
She raised an eyebrow at me. "So now you find a sense of humour about it?"
"Don't tempt me to change." I remarked seriously.
But despite my warning and her increasing heart rate she chuckled. "I think the threat is a little less effective now."
"Why is that?"
"Because I managed to drag an immortal into a bloody gym." She laughed.
I glared hard. Resisting the urge to let my teeth sharpen and show her how far from a joke said immortal really was. "Quite eager for death for a mortal aren't you."
She winked and walked back towards the centre of the room. I shook my head and tried to get that thought out of my head. Those green eyes being suggestive and casual. The easy sway of her hips while she walked. I sighed deeply and pressed a hand against the glass.
How long would we keep up this dance before a mistake was made. What kind of closeness she sought from me was still a mystery but it would only take one mistake. One touch. One lapse in focus and–
Music suddenly lit up the room.
I whirled on her. "Quinn!"
"I knew it would be bluetooth!" She grinned holding up her phone.
"That's not a toy!" I pressed, as the surround sound filled every corner of the room.
"Too much? You're right I'm sensing you're more the indie vibe." She said, flicking to the next track on whatever playlist she assaulted my home with. She nodded her head to the steady rhythm and continued perusing my possessions. I found myself quite entranced by the sight despite it all.
Filling my most personal space with something of hers... no matter how far from my taste it was. It was still a piece of her. I watched as she easily picked up a sword from the 15th century. I closed the space easily until I was next to her and she almost flinched out of her skin.
"Jesus! Don't do that!"
It was my turn to smirk. "Unless you plan on duelling the book shelf, I suggest you put it down. I kept it sharp."
This caught her attention and a slow smile broke over her face. She glanced back at me dangerously and I frowned in confusion.
"What–"
"Well you're impossibly strong. I wonder if that also applies to... everything else."
"Put it down, Adams. Before you get hurt." I repeated with no negotiation.
Her blood spiked and she slowly lowered it before flicking it towards me at the last second. The blade stopped dead in my hand like it would on stone. She stared at the metal on my skin without a mark with wide eyes.
"Not so sharp after all." She muttered.
"I wouldn't try the same on yourself." I told her firmly as I pulled it from her grasp.
"So you're indestructible?" She demanded.
I set the sword down carefully as she eyed my body in a way that made me uncomfortable in my own skin. It was one thing to steal glances at her but when those curious eyes travelled me I felt too exposed.
"No." I turned away and she caught my forearm making me freeze. "Quinn. When are you going to stop doing that?" I stated slowly.
"Until you give me full answers." She replied easily, watching my arm flex beneath the dark fabric.
"I can be killed. Just not by sharp objects." I said firmly, trying to keep the feeling of warmth from her skin far from my mind. It felt so welcome. So enticing that I wanted to feel more of it.
She dropped my arm through her fingers slowly. "By what then?"
I scoffed and turned to face her. "Having plans to try it?"
She grinned that beautiful damn smile that made me want to feel the warmth of her all the more. I still couldn't decide how much of it was the sheer desire to taste the blood I knew that would be sweeter than any in a hundred years or the way her bright eyes watched me, how her body curved elegantly or–
"No, I'm not planning on killing you detective. But I am curious about you." She admitted, watching my face intently. She had her own share of darkness in her eyes but the cause was lost on me. "You keep looking at me like that."
"Like what?" I blurted, rushing out of the thoughts of her body touching mine. Heating my cold.
"Like..." She smirked, shaking her head and turning back to the shelf.
"Tell me." I demanded. Her lack of answers was driving me mad. Not to mention I had fed her curiosity endlessly.
"I don't think you want to know." She remarked, pulling a thick hardback on history off the shelf and opening it before me.
"And why is that?"
"Because you say it's already difficult to be around me." She said simply, turning a page. "I doubt it would be easier if I said you were attracted to me." She finished bluntly.
I stared at her. Frozen on the spot and she glanced at me totally innocently. I had almost forgot about the music that hummed around us.
"What? Didn't think I noticed?" She smirked. "It's okay detective, your secret is safe."
"That's not what–I didn't–you–" I pinched my nose while Quinn continued grinning from her book adoring me trip over every sentence I started. I ran my hand through my dark hair with a sigh.
"I like it down by the way." She noted.
I met her eyes and seemed to feel her heat all the more. Stuttering and frozen before a mere mortal like this... it was practically laughable. She reduced me to an idiot.
"I don't know how to be around you." I admitted finally.
This caused her to shut the book and set it back on the shelf before appraising me properly. The closeness was enough to send all of my instincts screaming at me to act.
"Do you want to be around me?" She asked, without holding back. She never seemed to.
I wouldn't get away with lying to her. I wouldn't waste time doing it anyway. There wasn't much to deny at this point.
"Yes."
She took another step. Another impossible and heated step. Closer not further. Her warmth was all over me and I was sure if I dared to breathe the endless aroma would follow. I clenched my jaw tightly.
"I don't think it's just your instinct making you look at me that way." She murmured, trailing her eyes up the curve of my neck and to my jaw. I hoped she never found my eyes. "I think it's similar to what I feel when I look at you."
I swallowed, focusing on the way her eyes were slowly drifting dangerously higher.
"Which is?" I asked in a low voice.
"You're the detective." She said quietly, meeting my eyes. They burned like forests in high summer. They were also darkened with what I already knew she was feeling. Her blood sang to me and her heart was beating too fast. We were too damn close for me to think. To break from the trance she had me under.
She carefully pressed a gentle hand to my stomach and let herself draw in closer to my frozen stance. I closed my eyes and tried to tell my arms to move her back. But nothing was listening when her scent was drawing me in like this–asking me to act.
"Tell me I'm wrong." She whispered, nearer to me than she'd ever been. I knew if I opened my eyes she'd be inches away. Moments from face. From my lips. From my teeth.
All I had to do was say the words. The ones that would rip her scent off me. But I didn't want to anymore. A line was being crossed so completely that I wasn't going to stop her.
I felt her soft lips press against mine the moment I accepted that fact. My desire for her rushed me. Spun my head and made me act before I could think. My hands grabbed her hips and drew her flush into me. She sucked in a breath in shock. But she didn't stop.
Our lips found each other in again in unspoken desire. Mine fuelled by something much, much darker. My lower lip captured hers in hunger. Her blood pulsed loudly in my head warning me how close this desire was to taking hold of everything. She pushed her free hand through my hair and dragged my head closer to her lips. Her other hand ran along my back burning more defences between us.
I pushed her against the bookshelf lost in her heat and the press of her body against me. Pieces of my attention heard the books fall around us but I couldn't call back on that part of me. She breathed heavily against me and kissed my lower lip as deeply as I had responded. The music was secondary. The breaking objects were nothing. Everything was the feel of her skin against mine. The curve of her hips I held against me as I devoured her lips. Getting closer every second to giving in to the darkness.
I moved my hands along her hips down to her thighs. Lost in the need to feel every part of her against me. The fabric of her skirt tore. Neither of us seemed to notice or even care anymore. This power was all over me and my darkness was taking over my actions. I drew her legs up around my hips and she sucked in another lustful breath. Both her hands were in my hair now and her tongue grazed my lips tasting me.
One of my hands snapped the wood behind her.
She pulled away from my lips to steal a breath. I moved to her neck. Kissing my way along the pulse in her throat. Feeling the impossible power of it and my true self respond to it. My teeth became sharp in my mouth as I moved my lips against it and her breathing became heavier. I let her legs drop slowly to the floor as I brought my lips back to her skin and drew my mouth open.
Her nails dragged against my hair in wanting and it seemed to trigger something distant in me. Something of the past. The woman who had looked at me with the same desire in her eyes, her pale naked body bare to me, her nails dragged against my head before I had sunk my teeth into her neck–
I threw myself off her. Ripping distance between us as I staggered into the back of the sofa.
Quinn gripped the edge of the shelf breathing hard and staring at me with a lost expression. I dragged in a slightly purer gulp of air before meeting her eyes again. I shook my head hard.
"You–you have no idea–how close–" I dragged a hand through my hair again and tried to grip my sanity with it.
The only thing that had brought me back was the ghost of a mortal that had done the same all that time ago. Lost in her own attraction to me and my dark nature. Only to be drained before me. I'd let myself do it again–so close.
"Tara." It was the first time she had used my first name.
I looked back to her and hesitated. She tried to steady her breathing before she spoke.
"I know that was crossing the line but–I wasn't expecting you–to react quite that... intensely." She breathed out.
I focused on the cool stone floor.
"I wasn't meant to. But when you..." I got out, avoiding her eyes and trying to draw back every piece of self restraint. "Quinn, you can't do that." I breathed.
"I just wanted to express a small amount of what I felt... but you expressed a lot more." She laughed breathless, fixing her shirt and finally glancing at her skirt.
"I'm sorry–" I began.
"Don't be. I didn't even notice it. I don't think I would have noticed anything..." She admitted, shaking her head and glancing at the books at her feet. "Guess you answered my question."
"You were willing to die for it?" I demanded, meeting those stunning eyes. It was so much worse looking at her beauty now... after that. There was too much desire in the room.
"I had you figured out. I just wasn't prepared for how you would respond." She finished, watching me with red coating her cheeks.
I looked away and gripped the sofa cushions as I leant on it for support.
"We need to lay down some serious ground rules. Before you find out how far that question goes." I muttered, shaking my head.
"I couldn't really complain." She muttered.
I rolled my eyes and glared her down. "We're going to talk. About this." I reiterated. "But first of all, have you eaten yet?"
This seemed to shock her completely as she considered this. "Not since lunch why–"
"I'll have something brought up." I answered easily. "Then I will find something for myself before I start looking at you like..." I trailed off while her smile grew again.
She knew what I meant and did nothing to counter it. The desire was still too heavy in the air.
Mortals. Raw emotions and desires. It was the most painful and incredible night I'd had in decades. But there would have to be a point when we came to the cold hard facts about this situation. About how crossing these lines brings her so near to death with me. That my desires for her were mixing with my instincts in a way that made me lose all control around her.
She drew out her phone smiling into it as she changed the music on my speakers and I had to stop myself from watching that face for too long.
Get a god damn hold of yourself.