Hero's Haven

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Hero's Haven Page 17

by Rebecca Zanetti

Ronan nodded, cutting off the rest of Quade’s sentence.

  “When what?” Talen snapped.

  When Quade gave his life at the end, as he’d vowed to do. As the entire Seven had vowed to do. He’d discuss the rest of this later with his brother, when there weren’t snarling relatives or bugs around. He pushed his chair back and stood. “I need to go for a run. I will think. While I am running and thinking, you will get rid of the bugs.”

  “Will we?” Talen drawled.

  “Yes,” Quade snapped, bombarded by too many emotions to think clearly. “I must go.” He strode for the door.

  “Hey, Great-Uncle,” Talen murmured. “If you want to spar, we have a hell of a gym.”

  At the moment, Quade wasn’t sure he’d leave a sparring partner with his head still attached to his body. “I will return.” With that, he exited the room, walked out of the lodge, and started to run in the snow along the lake. As fast as he could.

  Mating Haven? Every time he looked at one of her paintings, he saw her soul. Her clean, good, kind, strong soul. He knew his emotions were ruling his mind, and he couldn’t let that happen.

  Mating seemed the only logical solution to the problem. Now, to convince her of that fact.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  After her second day in the hospital room, Haven was healed. Head to toe, no burns, bruises, or aches. While she was exhausted from refusing to sleep, her body felt whole again. It was astonishing that she’d had this ability her entire life and had only used it accidentally the one time. She looked at Quade as he escorted her up the stairs to his suite after a quiet dinner in her room. He hadn’t eaten very much. “Do you remember bumblebees?” she asked, her healthy body reacting to his nearness. The guy smelled so damn good.

  He nodded, his gaze preoccupied. “Aye.”

  “They say, scientists that is, that bees are too heavy for their wings to be able to hold them aloft. But bees don’t know that.”

  He led her down a wide hallway with thick wooden polished floorboards. “Your point?”

  She shrugged. “I’m just wondering what other gifts or abilities I have that I’ve never used. Besides healing myself, that is.” She looked up at him when he stopped in front of a tall oak door. “How much did your blood help me?”

  He finally focused on her. “Quite a lot, according to the queen. Ordinarily, burns like that would take at least a week to heal, even for the most seasoned warrior. There’s something odd about my blood. Makes sense, really.”

  She shifted her feet, her skin tingling. Why was he acting so distant? Did he plan to leave her here? It was a nice place, but it was time to go figure out her problems on her own—as usual. “You said Allison is safe. Where is she?”

  “She was taken to a safe house and will remain there until we know the danger has passed and that she’ll agree to stay silent,” he said.

  Then Haven had done her duty. She shoved aside her emotions for now. “I need to paint, Quade. Or at least draw.”

  “I thought you might.” He pushed open the door and gestured her inside a comfortable-looking suite with a living area, stone fireplace, kitchen, and three doorways. He pointed. “Guest bathroom, master bedroom, and this.” Taking her hand, he led her beyond a deep sofa to the third door and opened it.

  The smell of oil hit her first, followed by turpentine. She stepped inside a room that had been converted to a painting studio. A wide window across the entire north wall let in a perfect amount of light. Canvases, paints, and brushes had been lined up on a well-worn table in the corner, while sheets had been taped down to protect the floor. She moved toward the far wall, where several of her finished paintings had been stacked. “How?”

  Irritation crawled across Quade’s expression. “The king raided your storage unit outside of Portland and had your art brought here.” He cleared his throat. “I spent much of the day going through the paintings, and I recognize a few of the places you painted.” His voice deepened. “You have incredible talent.”

  She shared his irritation. “They found my storage unit and just took my paintings? How rude of them.”

  “Amen to that.”

  She turned around, feeling small and vulnerable surrounded by the white canvases and sheets. Her body was healthy, but the lack of sleep was throwing her off-kilter. “I haven’t agreed to stay here, Quade.”

  No expression indicated his feelings. “I am aware of that fact. But staying here makes sense. You still have a shifter on your scent, and while the pastor is dead, we don’t know how many people in his flock have committed themselves to finishing what he started. If he believed he was sanctioned by God to this duty, this crazy task of ridding you of evil, then they probably are true believers, too. I’ve seen religious obsession before. Morons.” Quade held up his palm. “And there is this.”

  The marking drew her somehow. Warmth spiraled through her belly, surprising her. They’d grown closer as they’d run away from trouble, but now he had his brother. His family. She was a Fae-demon who didn’t know how to be a Fae-demon. Didn’t even know what that meant. The only thing she knew was that all of the women, females, she’d met here so far, including Emma and her sister, were beyond brilliant. She hadn’t even finished high school. “You could probably be the king if you wanted, Quade.”

  He exhaled, his gaze roving over her face, his eyes softening. “My path is a different one, sweetling. Even if I weren’t bound by my Seven vows, I do not have the temperament to be king. I’m a soldier.” He glanced at the snowy, moonlit lake outside. “I must ask you a question.”

  Her breath caught all funny in her chest. “What?”

  “Can you awaken yourself when you’re traveling through the dream worlds? Have you tried?”

  She coughed, hiding the heat flushing up into her face. What had she expected? A mating offer, because he’d discovered he’d fallen in love the last week? God, she was a moron. She wasn’t even in love herself. Sure, she liked him and wanted him. A lot. But that wasn’t love. So why was she feeling disappointed in his question? “Yes,” she answered, hurriedly. “I think I did the first time, but last night, I couldn’t.”

  He walked past her to the window, facing out. The moonlight illuminated him, showing his power and his strength. Long muscles lined his back and stretched down his legs. He’d filled out since returning to this planet and eating somewhat regularly. “Have you slept since last time?”

  “No.” Her face heated. “I’m thinking Fae-demons don’t need as much sleep as humans.”

  “You do not.” He turned around. Framed in the window with the moon shining over the lake, he looked immortal. Unreal and handsome and primal. Sexy. “You will need sleep soon.”

  A pit opened up in her stomach. The idea of going back through those jumbled worlds, of finally seeing what was pulling her there, sent anxiety through every nerve. “I know.”

  His dark eyebrows lowered. “I’m not much for talking.”

  The guy looked so earnest, she hid a smile. “Okay.”

  “My brother, Jacer? He talked a lot. Easily.” Quade scrubbed a rough hand through his thick hair, ruffling the mass. “I was always more one for action, and words elude me. Even more so here and now when half of the words and all of the idioms do not make sense.”

  Where was he going with this? “You’re catching on quickly.” Her head ached from lack of sleep, but she could handle a little pain.

  “Thank you.” He slid his hands into his faded jeans, his thumbs out. “I can talk to you. Well, more than most.”

  Special. Without trying to, he made her feel special in this crappy world. She warmed and, this time, she let her smile show. “I’m glad.”

  He shuffled his feet, looking big and wide and strong—like one of those superheroes in his borrowed jeans. “Only one out of ten males who undertook the ritual to become one of the Seven survived.”

  Her head jerke
d. Those were horrible odds. “Did you know that fact before or after you underwent the ritual?”

  “Before.” He waved the question away. “Death was always expected. During the ritual, then during the horrific jump though time and space and worlds to reach the one where I kept vigil, and finally during the centuries I endured to keep Ulric imprisoned.” Quade’s eyes took on a faraway look for just a moment before his focus returned to her. “It was unthinkable that I would return home, but even so, I vowed to give my life in the last ritual. The one that destroys Ulric for good—and saves countless others.”

  It was nice he was confiding in her, but she was having trouble understanding his reason for doing so. Maybe he needed reassurance? Tough guys wouldn’t seek that from other tough guys like his brother. “Well, think about it this way. You didn’t die during the ritual, during the jump through worlds, or during your time keeping Ulric from escaping. Maybe you won’t die during the final ritual.” She kept her voice light, but the thought of his dying, really actually dying for good, passed a heavy shadow over her.

  His lips tipped up in a rueful smile. “That is doubtful, but I appreciate the hopeful sentiment. My point is that any mate I take would be left alone for eternity after my death. Mating is forever. Any mated immortal who touches another has a horrible reaction like an allergy.”

  That was just freaking weird. Even so, she got it. She held up a hand. “I’m well aware you don’t want to mate, and I’m not asking for that.” Now sex, she wouldn’t mind. It had been a long time, she was feeling a lot of tension, and he was the hottest thing she’d ever seen. Plus, she liked him. A lot. Probably too much, but sex with him would be worth the emotional hit. “You don’t need to worry about mating with me, Quade. I’m not a forever type, anyway.”

  “I am not good with words,” he muttered. He exhaled. “I like you.”

  Delight bubbled through her as if she was a teenager with a crush, and she didn’t even try to quash it. Such an unfamiliar feeling. She chuckled. “I like you, too.”

  He ducked his head, his lips twisting. “Yeah, about that. You know only a part of me, and I’ve been dizzy and not quite myself. I’m not usually so…congenial.”

  She couldn’t help the laughter that burst out of her. “This has been you congenial? The last week?” She’d seen him kill everything from Kurjans to humans to deer. He was cranky, bossy, and often on such high alert that she felt the tension in her own bones.

  “Yes.” He scratched his neck. “I do not know how to be other than what I am.”

  Okay. She shook her head and leaned forward. “Quade? Are you trying to proposition me?” Man, he was cute. Also sweet.

  “I am trying to warn you.” The words burst out of him. “Give you what’s called a heads-up nowadays.”

  A heads-up. If he got any cuter, she’d just jump him right here and now. “You’re giving me a heads-up that you’re who you are and I have not seen all of you.”

  “Exactly.” Relief lightened his expression.

  “I consider myself warned.” She could just stare at him all day, but her hands were starting to twitch with the need to paint. Was he going to ask her out or not? Did immortals just date? Go to movies amongst the humans? Or was there some odd ritual she hadn’t learned about yet? “Is there a reason you’re warning me?” Maybe she should just ask him out. While their fling might be quick, it’d be explosive. He’d brought her to orgasm twice, easily, and they hadn’t even had sex yet.

  “Yes. Of course.” His shoulders went back. “You need all of the truth before we mate.”

  She opened her mouth, but no sound emerged. Huh? What? Okay. What? “Mate?” she croaked. “Are you joking?”

  “No.” He nodded as if satisfied with a job well done. “Not joking. You know the truth. We shall mate tonight, then.”

  Again, no words. Her lips tried to form a couple, but no luck. She cleared her throat. “We are not mating.” That word. The images it conjured had her breath squeezing in her chest and her thighs tightening. But this was a subject for her brain, not her body. Thank goodness. “Not a chance. No forever. But we can have right now,” she added quickly.

  “Oh.” He ground a palm into one eye. “How I wish for the days of oxen and arrangements.”

  This was getting too odd. “Why don’t we talk tomorrow?” She really needed to start painting.

  “We are mating tonight,” he said, dropping the hand.

  “No, we are not.”

  “Yes, we are.” He crossed his arms, looking pretty damn intent.

  She shook her head. “This is nuts. Did you sustain a head injury? I mean, another one?”

  “I do not think so.” He rubbed his temple. “I have given this thought. All day. Mates take on each other’s talents, and you need mine to survive traveling to your dream worlds and keep control in them. I might get yours and be able to accompany you. In addition, even though my survival is in question, I would like to leave children behind. Maybe have a time to know them.”

  “Whoa.” She held up her hands and took several steps back. “Now wait a minute.” They’d gone from liking each other to mating to children way too fast. “Quade. Come on.”

  “Think about it. You are terrified to sleep, and even if you stay awake for a couple of nights, at some point you will succumb. Do you believe you’ll survive your next journey?” His voice roughened and he held up his palm again. “I do not know about fate, but this mark means something. You saved me and I will save you.”

  “Quade—”

  “Think about it.” Long strides ate up the space between him.

  His masculine scent washed over her a second before the heat from his body enveloped her. Her knees wobbled.

  She swallowed.

  Moving slowly, he lifted her chin with one knuckle until her gaze met his unfathomable one. He leaned down and brushed her mouth with a soft kiss.

  Yearning ran through her faster than a thought.

  He released her, satisfaction glittering in his eyes. “When you have finished, you will reach the same conclusion as I. We will be mated.” He turned and strode to the doorway. “I’ll give you this night.” Then he was gone.

  She swallowed, her mind spinning. Almost in a dream, she moved for the nearest paintbrush.

  Mate?

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “And she’s a fairy and a demon and she’s my new friend.” Hope wiped jelly off her mouth and ducked her head to catch the peanut butter from her sandwich before it fell on her jeans. Red and green lights surrounded the Santa display across the kitchen counter, and Christmas music played from speakers she couldn’t see.

  Her mama looked up from a laptop on the other side of the island. “I only met her briefly. She’s just out of the hospital and apparently she needs to go paint or something.” Twinkling lights from the trees lining the road to the lake glittered across her white T-shirt. “Although I’m quite curious about the places she has been—in her head. I wonder if it’s like my dream world or yours?”

  “Yours blew up,” Paxton reminded Hope’s mom.

  Her mom grinned. “I’m well aware of that, and I’m hoping Hope stays out of hers until she’s a grown-up.”

  Paxton drank down all of his milk and then picked up his second sandwich. He had another bruise on his neck, and when Hope’s mama had taken a look at it, her blue eyes were worried. “Yeah. That’s a good idea,” he agreed.

  Hope huffed out air. Paxton always took her mama’s side, but that was probably because he missed his own mama so much. She was a demon who’d died in the last war, and his dad, a vampire, didn’t seem to be around much, and he never, ever smiled.

  The front door opened and soon Hope’s daddy walked through the living room to the kitchen. He wore dark pants and a T-shirt and had a gun strapped to his leg.

  “Zane.” Her mama raised her head for a kiss. “Why are you
armed?”

  “Janie Belle,” Hope’s daddy said, kissing her mama. “I was at Realm headquarters and just walked back.” His eyes twinkled as he winked at Hope. “The lake is frozen thick enough to skate, kids. Maybe later today?”

  Paxton hopped on his chair. “That’d be awesome, Zane.” He stumbled over the name because he always wanted to add a “King” before Zane since her dad was the king of the demon nation, but he didn’t like to be called King.

  Her dad grabbed Hope and swung her around, making her giggle. She put her hands on his shoulders, laughing.

  “Cutie?” He set her gently down and then dropped to his haunches so they were eye to eye, even though she was on a tall stool. Her daddy was so big. “Honey? I was at the Realm and right now, all of us who can teleport are unable to do so.” His green eyes sizzled. “I have to ask, are you visiting that dream world you’re not supposed to go to at night?”

  She pouted. Why couldn’t she visit her dream world and her Kurjan friend Drake? “You and Mama had a dream world and you saved this world,” she reminded him. Why did grown-ups always forget the important stuff?

  “I know, sweetheart.” Her daddy patted her knees. “But that wasn’t the question I asked you.”

  She rolled her eyes and sighed. Seriously. Grown-ups. “No, I can’t get into the dream world.” She looked over at her mama, who should understand because she’d had dream worlds too when she was young. “My book is in there. I have to get back.”

  Her mama frowned. “What does this mean?”

  Her daddy stood. “Nobody knows. But we’ll figure it out.” He turned to Paxton. “I heard you did an amazing job in archery the other day.”

  Paxton puffed up like he’d been blown full of air like a balloon. “Thank you.”

  Her daddy’s face stayed the same but his eyes narrowed. “What happened to your neck?”

  Paxton turned red and rubbed the bruise beneath his jaw. “I was playing with shifters, and they’re faster than me. Lions.”

  Hope frowned. “You said it was demon kids.”

 

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