"That bastard's crazy," Kyle hissed through clenched teeth as Deacon
helped him off the floor.
"No, he's just angry," Deacon insisted, crouched down to Kyle's sitting height. He passed him some alcohol.
Kyle accepted the bottle. "More like psychotic."
Deacon rolled his eyes. "I never should have lied to him like I did. He probably feels betrayed."
"Deacon, he broke my nose!"
"Don't complain, Kyle," said a woman as she moved to them.
"Annika, I'm never gonna trust that man, especially not now," Kyle grumbled, standing, and walking away with his alcohol.
Deacon watched the Australian go, and gazed in the direction Quinn had gone off in. "What am I gonna do, Annika?"
The red-haired woman took a moment to snuggle into her black scarf, and said, "That's up to you, Deac'."
"Great, another chance to get it wrong," Deacon quipped, and strode off after Quinn.
* * *
The horse nudged him lightly, and snorted, pawing the ground beneath its hooves. It wished to lie down, but still fully tacked, Quinn would not allow it. It was tethered to a tree nearby, one of the only ones in the area. The dragons had succeeded in tearing down or burning pretty much all the trees in the vicinity.
Quinn turned and petted the horse on the muzzle, sighing restlessly. He wished to sleep, but found that he was not tired. at all.
It was because he was angry, and he knew why. Deacon had betrayed his trust, and had inquired on matters that did not concern him. It had brought up issues that Quinn did not like to discuss.
Especially his mother. Not even Alex heard him talk about his mother very much, if at all.
He felt moderately guilty for breaking that dumb Australian's nose, but the big idiot had had it coming. Especially after what he had added to the already heated conversation.
And that was when he heard the slight crunching of stones underfoot, and he cast a lazy glance over his shoulder, knowing immediately who was emerging from the shadows.
It was Deacon. although Quinn had no idea what the American hoped to achieve in coming to him again.
The young man stood, silently, at the edge of shadow, hands in pockets, shoulders hunched. He was cold, clearly, but wasn't showing it much. Good old Yank pride.
Quinn sighed heavily, and scratched the horse's ears as he said, "How's the Australian?"
For a while, Deacon didn't respond. He simply stood, watching the Englishman, as if studying his movements, trying to figure out what he was going to do. "He's whiny as usual. No change."
"I'd say sorry for breaking his nose," Quinn started, and then turned, "but we both know I wouldn't mean it."
At that moment, Quinn's eyes caught the shadow of another figure approaching, even as Deacon half-smiled in response to Quinn's comment.
The person stepped into the light, and Quinn saw that it was a woman, red hair blowing in the slight breeze, thick scarf tucked tightly around her neck and shoulders, keeping the warmth in, and the cold out. Gentle eyes regarded the back of Deacon's head.
"Deac'," she started, her own voice American too, "you're needed back at the camp."
Deacon looked back half-heartedly, and with one final gaze at Quinn, turned on his heels, and strode off.
Quinn was left alone with the woman, who stood gazing at him curiously. The light played on her features gracefully; illuminating them every now and then, and then casting them back into shadow.
"He doesn't mean any harm," she said quietly, voice gentle and full of sincerity. She looked to the ground, her boot nudging at a rock that resided there. "He just doesn't understand."
Quinn shoved his hands roughly into the pockets of his coat, and sighed. "I know."
The woman came closer, eyes turning to meet his in the dim light. "I've known him my whole life."
"Then you should be careful," Quinn said seriously, his tone carrying a certain edge. "You don't want to lose him... I can see that. It will hurt more than you know... seeing him get hurt."
"He knows how to take care of himself," she retorted, and that was when Quinn saw the lines around her eyes. She was older than Deacon; he knew that now. but just how old was she? If he had to guess, he would say she was bordering on thirty... closer to Quinn's age than Deacon's. Maybe she had cared for him, as he had for Jared.
"Does he?" he asked in a low voice. "People are never quite what they seem."
The eyes stared quizzically, gazing into him, studying his every movement, expression and meaning.
"I thought I could care for a community," Quinn breathed lazily, looking skyward, "but I showed my worth when the bull came to the castle. Didn't realise he was there until he'd destroyed half our home."
"I'm sure it wasn't your fault," she came a step closer, the compassion clear in her words.
"No," Quinn shrugged, "I was just too busy digging out an egg from a dead female to notice. She tried to tell me," he completed, turning back to the horse, and patting the mare on the nose. She bowed her beautiful head, and snorted once.
The woman came to his side, and laid a hand on his arm. "You're too hard on yourself. I noticed that as soon as I saw you. You have so much responsibility... and it's not fair, I know. I've had that sort of burden my whole life too. I have two younger brothers here with me, and a sister. I had to take care of them after we lost our home."
Quinn's eyes turned to hers, and he cocked his head.
"My mother was a coward," she continued, "she ran for the hills at the first sign of danger. Left us all alone."
"What about your father?" he asked, knowing he shouldn't pry, but finding her story too intriguing to leave a mystery. Besides, she was being forthcoming with her past, and if she wished to share the information freely, then Quinn might as well be curious.
"Oh, he died when I was only young." She laughed quietly, her hand falling to her side loosely. "I suppose he was lucky in a way. He never had to deal with any of this." She gestured around her vaguely, and then locked gazes with Quinn again. "But you remind me of him a lot. He was stronger than he knew. and a natural leader."
Quinn lowered his head, and stared blankly at the floor. Why was she speaking this way? She didn't know him... couldn't know him. How did she know that he was anything like what she said? For all she knew, he would desert them at a pivotal moment, run for the hills himself.
"I don't think I can bear to go through with this again," he mumbled mournfully, looking to the stars above. "The last time I let myself grow close to anyone, I ended up losing them."
"What about this wife Deacon speaks of? She's alive," the woman corrected.
Quinn nodded, the memory of Alex's beautiful face floating into his mind. A tear formed, but he blinked it back quickly. "Yes. But only because I've hidden her away for so long. I couldn't go on if I lost her."
"You feel responsible for her."
"Of course I do, she's my wife," he snapped, closing his eyes afterwards for letting himself grow angry. He took a deep breath, and then added, "But it goes deeper than that. After we lost Van Zan, she was all that remained of her company. I wanted to keep her alive to preserve their memory. They were good men... all of them. They sacrificed their lives for what they believed in. It took their deaths to make me realise that it was worth fighting for... that the human race needed to take back what was rightfully ours."
"And still is," she added, her hair now tucked behind her ear. "We can't give up. not now. We have the strength and the intelligence to destroy them, now more than ever. After what you achieved in London, we know they have a weakness. We used to think they were invincible... some sort of demon."
Quinn sighed.
"Now that you've taken down a male, with little more than a single explosive, we know it's possible to take back the planet."
He released a small laugh. "You make it sound like an invasion."
"That's all it is, Quinn... an invasion. Now we need to drive them out... once and for all," she insisted, her words strong and clear, her gaze defiant.
"I should be with Alex," he muttered, turning away, and closing his eyes. Again, her face came into his subconscious, as if calling to him.
"Yes, you should. And we want to make sure that you can be with her for the rest of your life. That's why we need you here. You're the only one with real, first-hand experience in combat with one of these things." She paused for a moment, before continuing, "Sure, we've brought them down before... but never a bull... we wouldn't know how."
"I need to be there for my child," he said, louder, opening his eyes. He turned back to her, and saw the desperation in her eyes. They claimed they needed him... but so did Alex. "I can't let my child grow up without a father... it was bad enough when my own father left. You know what it's like. Something's missing... I can't do that to them, or Alex. I want this finished."
"Good," she said, "then help us. Help us finish what you and the others started."
With a deep breath, Quinn thought back quickly over all that had just been said between the two, before firmly and confidently nodding.
He was going to destroy the dragons once and for all.
"No, he's just angry," Deacon insisted, crouched down to Kyle's sitting height. He passed him some alcohol.
Kyle accepted the bottle. "More like psychotic."
Deacon rolled his eyes. "I never should have lied to him like I did. He probably feels betrayed."
"Deacon, he broke my nose!"
"Don't complain, Kyle," said a woman as she moved to them.
"Annika, I'm never gonna trust that man, especially not now," Kyle grumbled, standing, and walking away with his alcohol.
Deacon watched the Australian go, and gazed in the direction Quinn had gone off in. "What am I gonna do, Annika?"
The red-haired woman took a moment to snuggle into her black scarf, and said, "That's up to you, Deac'."
"Great, another chance to get it wrong," Deacon quipped, and strode off after Quinn.
* * *
The horse nudged him lightly, and snorted, pawing the ground beneath its hooves. It wished to lie down, but still fully tacked, Quinn would not allow it. It was tethered to a tree nearby, one of the only ones in the area. The dragons had succeeded in tearing down or burning pretty much all the trees in the vicinity.
Quinn turned and petted the horse on the muzzle, sighing restlessly. He wished to sleep, but found that he was not tired. at all.
It was because he was angry, and he knew why. Deacon had betrayed his trust, and had inquired on matters that did not concern him. It had brought up issues that Quinn did not like to discuss.
Especially his mother. Not even Alex heard him talk about his mother very much, if at all.
He felt moderately guilty for breaking that dumb Australian's nose, but the big idiot had had it coming. Especially after what he had added to the already heated conversation.
And that was when he heard the slight crunching of stones underfoot, and he cast a lazy glance over his shoulder, knowing immediately who was emerging from the shadows.
It was Deacon. although Quinn had no idea what the American hoped to achieve in coming to him again.
The young man stood, silently, at the edge of shadow, hands in pockets, shoulders hunched. He was cold, clearly, but wasn't showing it much. Good old Yank pride.
Quinn sighed heavily, and scratched the horse's ears as he said, "How's the Australian?"
For a while, Deacon didn't respond. He simply stood, watching the Englishman, as if studying his movements, trying to figure out what he was going to do. "He's whiny as usual. No change."
"I'd say sorry for breaking his nose," Quinn started, and then turned, "but we both know I wouldn't mean it."
At that moment, Quinn's eyes caught the shadow of another figure approaching, even as Deacon half-smiled in response to Quinn's comment.
The person stepped into the light, and Quinn saw that it was a woman, red hair blowing in the slight breeze, thick scarf tucked tightly around her neck and shoulders, keeping the warmth in, and the cold out. Gentle eyes regarded the back of Deacon's head.
"Deac'," she started, her own voice American too, "you're needed back at the camp."
Deacon looked back half-heartedly, and with one final gaze at Quinn, turned on his heels, and strode off.
Quinn was left alone with the woman, who stood gazing at him curiously. The light played on her features gracefully; illuminating them every now and then, and then casting them back into shadow.
"He doesn't mean any harm," she said quietly, voice gentle and full of sincerity. She looked to the ground, her boot nudging at a rock that resided there. "He just doesn't understand."
Quinn shoved his hands roughly into the pockets of his coat, and sighed. "I know."
The woman came closer, eyes turning to meet his in the dim light. "I've known him my whole life."
"Then you should be careful," Quinn said seriously, his tone carrying a certain edge. "You don't want to lose him... I can see that. It will hurt more than you know... seeing him get hurt."
"He knows how to take care of himself," she retorted, and that was when Quinn saw the lines around her eyes. She was older than Deacon; he knew that now. but just how old was she? If he had to guess, he would say she was bordering on thirty... closer to Quinn's age than Deacon's. Maybe she had cared for him, as he had for Jared.
"Does he?" he asked in a low voice. "People are never quite what they seem."
The eyes stared quizzically, gazing into him, studying his every movement, expression and meaning.
"I thought I could care for a community," Quinn breathed lazily, looking skyward, "but I showed my worth when the bull came to the castle. Didn't realise he was there until he'd destroyed half our home."
"I'm sure it wasn't your fault," she came a step closer, the compassion clear in her words.
"No," Quinn shrugged, "I was just too busy digging out an egg from a dead female to notice. She tried to tell me," he completed, turning back to the horse, and patting the mare on the nose. She bowed her beautiful head, and snorted once.
The woman came to his side, and laid a hand on his arm. "You're too hard on yourself. I noticed that as soon as I saw you. You have so much responsibility... and it's not fair, I know. I've had that sort of burden my whole life too. I have two younger brothers here with me, and a sister. I had to take care of them after we lost our home."
Quinn's eyes turned to hers, and he cocked his head.
"My mother was a coward," she continued, "she ran for the hills at the first sign of danger. Left us all alone."
"What about your father?" he asked, knowing he shouldn't pry, but finding her story too intriguing to leave a mystery. Besides, she was being forthcoming with her past, and if she wished to share the information freely, then Quinn might as well be curious.
"Oh, he died when I was only young." She laughed quietly, her hand falling to her side loosely. "I suppose he was lucky in a way. He never had to deal with any of this." She gestured around her vaguely, and then locked gazes with Quinn again. "But you remind me of him a lot. He was stronger than he knew. and a natural leader."
Quinn lowered his head, and stared blankly at the floor. Why was she speaking this way? She didn't know him... couldn't know him. How did she know that he was anything like what she said? For all she knew, he would desert them at a pivotal moment, run for the hills himself.
"I don't think I can bear to go through with this again," he mumbled mournfully, looking to the stars above. "The last time I let myself grow close to anyone, I ended up losing them."
"What about this wife Deacon speaks of? She's alive," the woman corrected.
Quinn nodded, the memory of Alex's beautiful face floating into his mind. A tear formed, but he blinked it back quickly. "Yes. But only because I've hidden her away for so long. I couldn't go on if I lost her."
"You feel responsible for her."
"Of course I do, she's my wife," he snapped, closing his eyes afterwards for letting himself grow angry. He took a deep breath, and then added, "But it goes deeper than that. After we lost Van Zan, she was all that remained of her company. I wanted to keep her alive to preserve their memory. They were good men... all of them. They sacrificed their lives for what they believed in. It took their deaths to make me realise that it was worth fighting for... that the human race needed to take back what was rightfully ours."
"And still is," she added, her hair now tucked behind her ear. "We can't give up. not now. We have the strength and the intelligence to destroy them, now more than ever. After what you achieved in London, we know they have a weakness. We used to think they were invincible... some sort of demon."
Quinn sighed.
"Now that you've taken down a male, with little more than a single explosive, we know it's possible to take back the planet."
He released a small laugh. "You make it sound like an invasion."
"That's all it is, Quinn... an invasion. Now we need to drive them out... once and for all," she insisted, her words strong and clear, her gaze defiant.
"I should be with Alex," he muttered, turning away, and closing his eyes. Again, her face came into his subconscious, as if calling to him.
"Yes, you should. And we want to make sure that you can be with her for the rest of your life. That's why we need you here. You're the only one with real, first-hand experience in combat with one of these things." She paused for a moment, before continuing, "Sure, we've brought them down before... but never a bull... we wouldn't know how."
"I need to be there for my child," he said, louder, opening his eyes. He turned back to her, and saw the desperation in her eyes. They claimed they needed him... but so did Alex. "I can't let my child grow up without a father... it was bad enough when my own father left. You know what it's like. Something's missing... I can't do that to them, or Alex. I want this finished."
"Good," she said, "then help us. Help us finish what you and the others started."
With a deep breath, Quinn thought back quickly over all that had just been said between the two, before firmly and confidently nodding.
He was going to destroy the dragons once and for all.