Irritation clawed along his skin. “They’ve had centuries to create a nice, safe headquarters. What in the hell has been happening?”
She shrugged, her eyes glimmering, each reflecting a different shade from the fake fire. “I don’t know, but I did hear something about headquarters blowing up a lot. You and Ronan were taken to different rooms, his mate checked you both out, and then you were asleep for hours.” She scrunched her nose up. “Any chance you’re hungry?”
His stomach growled as if in answer. His heart warmed, too. She was too shy to venture out on her own? Sometimes her sweetness took his feet out from under him. “I’m starving. Shall we explore and find food?”
She hopped from the chair. “Definitely.”
He stood and let the bedclothes fall, glancing down to see he was nude. “I don’t suppose anybody left clothing.”
She pointed to a pile on the other side of the bed. “Faith brought some of Ronan’s clothes for you earlier. Jeans and T-shirts. Nothing fancy.” A pretty pink filtered across her face.
“After the night we shared, you’ve seen it all.” He grinned and strode for the clothing, his body feeling almost centered. Not quite, but as close as he’d gotten. Perhaps it was being inside the earth this way, or maybe it was because his mate was safe and close enough to touch. “You mentioned talking about mating.” He drew a shirt over his head.
She cleared her throat. “You remember that, huh?”
It wasn’t something he was likely to forget, even if he had been bleeding out. “Yes.” He drew on the jeans, frowning at seeing several holes in the legs. “Ronan’s mate gave me faulty clothing?”
Haven chuckled. “No. Frayed jeans are the style now. People pay extra for those holes.”
What an odd world he’d returned to. “All right.” He took in her black leggings and soft pink T-shirt. “Yours do not have holes.”
“I’m not wearing jeans.” She wiped charcoal down her pants. “I think you’ll like Faith. She’s a neurosurgeon. And I met Ivar’s mate, Promise. She’s a famous physicist.”
What was that tone in her voice? Something was off. Quade took her hand. “You’re a famous artist.”
She snorted, but her smile was genuine. Good. He’d said the right thing. “Promise has some theories about the portals and Ulric, but she wanted to figure it all out and wait until you’d awakened before telling us.”
“I’m awake.” Quade led the way out of the room into a wide hallway with smooth walls. “Where are the booby traps?” He wasn’t sure what those were, but since they cut off heads, he needed information.
Haven skipped to his side. “They’re in the walls, but only when you first come in the mountain. There aren’t any back here in the living quarters. Or rather, the sleeping quarters. Ivar said there would be bigger suites cut into the rock, but he didn’t say when. Or how, for that matter.”
They reached a wide room with some type of screens on the walls, but they were blank. Nobody was around. He continued past the room to another hallway, sniffing out food. Finally, they reached what appeared to be a kitchen of sorts with a long counter, several appliances he didn’t recognize, and many round tables surrounded by yellow and green chairs. “Where is everyone?” he muttered.
She shrugged. “It’s late at night. You slept all day, so everyone is probably sleeping. Logan is on his way from a safehouse with Allison, the woman who was my mom, because she won’t agree to keep silent until she sees I’m okay. That may be true or not. But he won’t be able to land in this storm.” Moving toward a tall box, she opened it and drew out what appeared to be sliced meat. “I’ll make us sandwiches.” She yawned and tried to cover the action with a hand.
“Okay.” He looked along a stone counter and found bread. Already sliced. Amazing. “After we eat, we need to talk about your getting some sleep.” His female needed to keep up her strength, even though she’d made quick work of the shifter. “Good job with Pierce, by the way.”
She rolled her eyes. “Thanks. I asked Ivar to contact Dage and have somebody pick Pierce up and get him some help. The guy really needs it.”
“He needs to have his head removed,” Quade countered, taking out slices of bread. “I’ll take care of that once we figure out what’s happening with the portals.” It was the least he could do.
She made the sandwiches and handed him two, moving to one of the tables and taking a seat. “I don’t want him killed, just helped. He seemed more lost than dangerous to me.” She took a bite and hummed, chewing thoughtfully as he pulled out a green chair and sat.
He ate half of his sandwich in one bite. “Let’s talk about mating. Now.”
* * * *
Haven nearly choked on her ham sandwich. She finished chewing and swallowed. “Do you believe in love?”
“No.” He reached for the second sandwich she’d placed on his plate. “Maybe young girls feel it, but most of us gave up emotions like that a long time ago.” His eyes were a burnished aqua in the dim light, oddly reflecting the silver in the walls around them. “I believe in duty and commitment. Family.”
She’d never had family. Not really. “I think I believe in love. Maybe it’s just for other people, but I do believe in it.” She felt more for him than she’d ever felt before, but she didn’t know how to define the sensation. She liked him and she wanted him. Everything inside her wanted to trust him. She cleared her throat. “Did you know that there’s a new virus—”
“Yes.” He cut her off, his chin lifting. “That is not a possibility. If we mate, you will not take a virus. There is no out. You must understand this before you make your decision.”
Haven swallowed. Faith had explained that the immortals, especially the older members of the Seven, were dead set against the virus or anything that messed with a mating bond. She’d also said that no mate who hadn’t been widowed and alone for decades had ever taken the virus, so there was no way to know if it would work in other circumstances. “I’m just saying—”
“That is nonnegotiable,” he said, finishing his sandwich.
Her vertebrae stiffened until her posture was probably as good as it would ever get. “This is not your way or the highway.”
He frowned at the expression. “This is absolute.”
She was about to let him have it when a shadow crossed the door.
Quade looked up and then slowly stood. “Adare.”
Haven turned. Adare stood in the doorway, his dark eyes expressionless. He had black hair that reached his shoulders, a wide chest, and an aura of strength. “Quade. My brother.” The brogue was masculine and deep. Thick and from the Highlands, or what she imagined the Highlands would sound like.
Quade met him halfway and they hugged with the sound of two bucks locking horns.
Emotion swam through the room, clogging her throat. She could feel it.
Adare pulled back first, his hand remaining on Quade’s shoulder. They stood eye to eye at six and a half feet. “I never thought to see you again.”
Quade nodded, flashing a quick smile. His eyes looked misty. “Me either. It is good to know you are well.”
“You, too.” Adare clapped Quade hard on the shoulder. “So good.”
Quade drew him to the table. “This is Haven. Haven, this is my brother Adare.”
Apparently, all of the members of the Seven shared brotherhood. Must be nice. She held out a hand, and the giant gently shook it. “Hello.”
“Hi.” His brogue lessened. He looked to the side. “I did not mean to interrupt.”
“You didn’t,” Haven said, beginning to stand. It was obvious the two needed some time, and she could use some private minutes to think about what Quade had said. She hadn’t expected him to be so unbending.
A woman stomped into the room. “Damn it, Adare. Did you tell Ivar I’d changed my mind about returning to Chicago?”
It took Hav
en a second to recognize her. “Grace Cooper,” she murmured. The woman was a world-class photographer and had been with Promise and Faith when they’d visited her in Portland. She hadn’t realized Grace was staying in the mountain.
Grace paused. “Hi, Haven. Sorry about this and about everything. We’ll talk later, but right now, I need to yell at my mate.”
Quade stepped back. “Mate?” His voice went low and gritty with what sounded like incredulousness.
Adare sighed. “Yes. Mate.”
“Not really,” Grace piped up, her eyes glittering. “Long story. I was in a coma, we mated with just a bite and brand, and now it’s over. We’ve never had sex, will never have sex, and that’s the end of it. So I’m done with you deciding anything for me.”
Haven cleared her throat. “I thought sex was a necessary component—”
“Usually,” Grace muttered. “But my case was different.”
“Aye. I saved your damn life,” Adare said, his jaw looking harder than the stone around them.
Grace glared. “Thanks, but that doesn’t give you rights over me forever.”
“The hell it doesn’t.” The Highlander crossed his arms.
Haven swallowed and edged toward the door.
Grace threw her hands up in the air. “I am so done with you.” She turned on lovely beige boots and stormed out, leaving instant quiet.
Haven coughed. “So. I think I’ll go draw for a while. Ponder life and figure things out.” She didn’t wait for acknowledgment from either male but just took her leave.
Immortals had some serious drama.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Come this way,” Adare said, strolling out of the room and stalking down the hallway and beyond the place with all the screens. “If anything spins out of the wall at you, duck. Fast.”
Quade grimaced but followed, impressed when they ended up in a cave for a few moments. Then an outside door opened. “Why is headquarters not better fortified?”
“We keep having to move.” Adare stomped out and strode through heavy snow toward a stand of trees. “There’s a place beneath a tarp.”
Quade ignored the snow falling all around. At least the storm had lightened. He followed Adare between two trees and then stopped, cold. A wide greenish-brown swath of material had been stretched between several trees, protecting the ground from the snow. Several tree stumps had been placed around a firepit, and a fire was crackling, the smoke going out to the side and mingling with the snow.
Ronan looked up and grinned. “How’s the neck?”
“Good.” Quade paused at seeing the fourth person at the fire. “Benjamin.” Benny Reese had been his friend as long as Adare had. When Benny stood, they hugged.
“It’s good to see you, man,” Benny said, clapping his back with hands bigger than the lily pads that covered the ponds of his youth.
Quade hugged him back, joy making him feel lighter than he had in eons. “Are you still crazy?”
“So they say.” Benny released him and retook his seat, grabbing a stick to poke the fire. “So. The four of us. What’s left of the original Seven.”
Quade drew a stump closer to the warmth and sat next to Adare. “Yes.”
Ronan pulled a bottle from the side of his chair and lifted it to the fire. “To those of the Seven we’ve lost.” He took a deep pull and passed the bottle, waiting until they’d all drawn a drink. Then he cleared his throat. “And to our three new members. May the strength they’ve shown in surviving the ritual carry them forward with us.” He drank and the bottle passed again.
Quade took a deep pull and let the alcohol heat his body. It tasted like the whiskey from his younger days. “I’ve met Ivar in my dream world and Garrett at Realm headquarters. I have yet to meet Logan.”
“He’s leaving Fae headquarters with his mate, Mercy. They’ll pick up that Allison woman who didn’t do right by your mate, and then they’ll be here when the storm ebbs,” Benny said, his gaze on the fire.
Quade looked at the ones he’d begun this journey with, so long ago. “We were not to take mates.”
Benny held up both hands. “Hey. Don’t look at me. I’m free as a bird and twice as wild.”
The idea of Benny ever mating was laughable, to say the least. Not only was he half-crazy, even for a hybrid, but he had always liked his freedom. Quade couldn’t imagine him settling down with one female.
“I’m not really mated,” Adare protested. “I had no choice. Grace is a Key.”
Well, hell. Quade hadn’t caught that. It made sense that Adare had mated her. He turned to Ronan. “And you?”
His brother kicked back, extending his long legs toward the fire. “Faith is my mate.” He looked up, his eyes a darker shade than Quade’s. “Sometimes it’s really that simple.”
Quade frowned. Nothing was ever that simple. Especially in their lives.
Ronan had their father’s jawline, and even relaxed, it was hard. “She’s my heart and soul. How could I not mate her and spend what time I have with her?”
Quade warmed to the idea, while Adare looked puzzled and Benny made gagging noises.
“Knock it off.” Ronan tossed a snowy pine cone at Benny’s head. He then focused on Quade. “What about you? The mating mark has appeared.”
Quade’s shoulders relaxed. He held his hands out to the fire, warming his palms. “I lost my heart and definitely my soul—too long ago to fathom.” Was it possible to regain both? Did he deserve to have either? “Haven cannot navigate the portals and worlds on her own, and if Ulric gets ahold of her, he’ll force her to bring him home or kill her.” Quade could not let that happen.
Benny cut him a look. “That’s the only reason?”
Quade hunched his shoulders and then forced himself to relax. “That’s not a good enough reason?” He paused. “Speaking of which, how did a Fae-demon hybrid end up with humans in the first place?”
Ronan shook his head. “You’re not going to like it.”
“I already dislike it. Now give me the truth,” Quade muttered, relaxing now that he was back with family. Damn, it felt good to be with his brothers.
“Fine.” Ronan picked up another branch to poke in the fire. “The Fae have lived off world for so long, none of us knew when there was some sort of explosion that killed many of them. The remaining Fae were old—very old. They had a lab with genetic samples, and they created twenty new, young fairies, including Mercy, who has mated Logan.”
“Huh?” Quade asked.
“Oh.” Ronan winced. “Yeah, well, it’s possible to take samples from people, put them together, and make a baby on a plate. Those cells then have to be put into a female for development.”
Quade’s mouth dropped open. “Are you jesting with me?”
“No. Human science has progressed much in the last few centuries,” Ronan said. “As it turns out, the Fae had a genetic sample from a demon, and they used it once to create Haven. Then there was some turmoil and they had to leave our world again, and they didn’t think they could take her.”
Heat burned through Quade. “They created her and then abandoned her?” That was unthinkable. Truly so.
Adare shook his head. “That’s the story. It’s crazy, and we don’t like the Fae nation much, although our contact is usually with the younger folks who didn’t know any of this. Mercy was appalled that Haven had been abandoned.”
Quade swallowed. “Who were Haven’s genetic donors?”
“No clue,” Adare said. “We’ll probably never know that fact.”
Ronan leaned toward him. “If you want to give her a family, give her yours. I’d love a sister.”
Quade kicked snow off his boots. It was the least he could do.
* * * *
Haven wandered along a crystal-clear white shore where diamonds sparkled from the sand. Beauty surrounded her, and she let the w
arm sun wash over her skin. The ocean lapped toward her, its color a deep, warm purple that was inviting instead of frightening. Even the whitecaps seemed cheery.
She had fallen asleep. She’d tried so hard not to shut her eyes, to keep drawing, but she must’ve lost the battle.
Still, this was nice. Peaceful. If her nighttime journeys went like this every time, then she’d love to sleep. What would it be like to truly journey to places like this on purpose, as the Fae could? Well, as they used to be able to do.
Without warning, the ground opened up, and she fell.
She screamed, reaching for the sand, but a hole closed over her. Trying to curl into a fetal ball so she could roll, she fought the forces around her, dropping out of a sky and landing on her knees. Pain ripped up to her hips, and she gasped, looking around wildly.
Soft green grass, bubbling brooks, nearby trees. Oh. She’d been here. She stood, wincing as her legs protested, but nothing was broken. “Hello?” she called out.
The two women from before limped out of the forest. Their skin had sunk into their bones, and most of their hair was gone. She gasped. “What happened to you?”
Juliet still had a little blond hair on her head, and she squinted as if she couldn’t see. “Haven? It has been years.”
Haven’s stomach lurched. “It has been days.”
“Not here,” the other woman sighed. “Time moves differently.”
Haven calculated the distance to the trees. “We have to get you out of here. What if you held my hand?” It couldn’t hurt.
“I’d try anything,” Juliet murmured, leaning on her friend for support. “All seven of us are still alive, but we’re fading fast. Or slow, but it feels way too fast.”
Haven moved nearer to the women, walking alongside the little brook. She was mere yards away when a gust of wind slammed her to the side. She faltered and regained her balance, only to be pushed again. Yelping, she fell toward the brook and went right through, spinning around and around.
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