by Tina Folsom
She noticed his fists clenching by his sides, his chest heaving with every breath. Oh, yes, she was getting to him. Just another well-placed shove and he’d lose it. And hell, if she didn’t need a bit of an outlet for her own frustration. “Wanna hide behind your mama’s skirts?”
A flash of grief flared in Wesley’s eyes. With a roar, he lunged for her much faster than she’d expected. He slammed his body against her and drove her against the wall. The sturdy surface connecting with her back would have hurt a human’s spine and ribs, but Yvette’s body was built stronger, more indestructible.
“Don’t you dare mention my mother.”
It appeared she’d hit a sore spot. Just as well: find the enemy’s weak points and exploit them. That’s what she’d been taught all these years during her training at Scanguards. And she’d been a good student. On the job, she’d perfected every skill they’d taught her. “I’ll mention your mother all I want.” There was a wound, and while she didn’t know how deep it was, rubbing salt on it was an easy way to find out.
Wesley’s hands tried to reach for her throat, but Yvette blocked him effortlessly with her forearm. “I’ll kill you. You’ll pay for killing my mother. You all will.”
For a second, she went still. No wonder the pup was all agitated. She looked into his eyes and saw the deep-rooted pain in them. She could take a wild guess at what the cause of his pain was. It wasn’t fresh, but it seemed nevertheless severe. “You really think you have the strength to kill me?” Yvette blew out a breath of air, showing him just how much she thought of his fighting abilities.
“I’ll kill you,” he hissed through clenched teeth.
“For what? For something I didn’t do?”
“You’re all responsible—all you vampires,” he spat.
It got her hackles up. She hated being accused wholesale for something one of her fellow vampires might or might not have done. “You’d better start explaining what you mean by that.” Yvette held firm and didn’t move. Their bodies were pressed together, but she felt none of the heat and arousal she’d felt with Haven. Nothing stirred in her; all she saw was the boy inside the man, the boy who was hurting.
“You killed her.”
“Your mother. I don’t even know you mother.” Anger at his accusation made her raise her voice. To calm herself down, she took a few steadying breaths, knowing that she’d get nowhere if she lost control over the situation. “What happened to her?” Like she’d been taught, she made her voice calm and even. She could have pushed him off a hundred times and freed herself from him, but she chose not to. Wesley needed to maintain a semblance of being in charge, because inside she could see him crumbling.
“A vampire.” His eyes grew distant.
“A vampire killed your mother?” She knew the answer already, but she needed to get him to talk. If she knew the circumstances, she could rebuke his accusations and make him understand that she had nothing to do with it. But he didn’t answer.
“Wesley?”
He shook his head as if ridding himself of the memories. Then his eyes stared at her, and the hardness was back, the pain pushed back into dark recesses where it couldn’t be found. “That’s why you’ll die.”
Knowing that she’d played her hand for what it was worth, she pushed him off her, propelling him into the middle of the room. “I’m not the vampire you’re looking for.”
“Doesn’t matter: I’ll kill each and every one of you until I find the right one.”
“That doesn’t make you any better than the vampire who killed your mother.”
“Don’t compare me to the likes of your kind. You’re bloodthirsty killers.”
She decided not to correct him on his assumption that she’d killed. She hadn’t—well, self-defense didn’t count—but it was better if he feared her. It would keep him at bay. “And you’re not? What makes your killing any different?”
“I kill despicable creatures like you: heartless, soulless creatures.”
Yvette gave a bitter laugh. If she were really heartless, then she wouldn’t feel the loneliness that had been engulfing her for years. She wouldn’t feel the yearning for a family, for a man and a child who loved her. If she had no soul, she wouldn’t mourn the loss of her friends who’d died over the years. “You have no idea who I am.”
She turned away from him, not wanting him to see the storm inside her. It didn’t stop him from insulting her any further. “My brother should have staked you.”
Without turning, she responded, “Your brother won’t hurt me.” She was certain about it, more certain than she’d been about anything lately.
“What have you done to him?”
She smiled to herself. It wasn’t what she’d done to him, but what he wanted to do to her. “He wants to fuck me.”
“You fucking bitch. He would never touch a vampire like that.”
Yvette swiveled on her heels and lashed a glare at him. “I don’t think you know your brother when it comes to that.”
“You—”
Whatever he wanted to say was drowned out by a scream from Haven. Unexpected panic coiled through her. The scream was one of pure agony, a pain so raw she felt it creep into her bones where it spread like a chill from a frigid arctic wind.
“What did the witch do to you? Wesley? What did she do to you out there?”
Wesley ran to the door and pulled on the door handle, but it didn’t move. “I have to get to him! Damn it, I told him not to resist. Why doesn’t he ever listen to me?” Raking his hand through his dark mane, he looked distraught.
Yvette gripped his shoulder and turned him to look at her. His anguish was painted on his face. “What did she do to you?”
He swallowed hard. “She went into my mind, probing around in there. It was like … like an electrical current was going through my head, as if she was trying to find something with it.”
“Torture?”
He shook his head. “No, it didn’t hurt that much. But it was humiliating.”
Another scream tore through the room. Their gazes flew to the door.
“Then why is he screaming? What is she doing?” Yvette shook Wesley.
He threw her hands off as if only now noticing that she was touching him. “I—I don’t know. He can take more pain than anybody I know.”
“Then why?” she wondered, more to herself than to Wesley.
“If he’s screaming, it means she’s hurting him because he’s resisting her. It’s all my fault.”
“Why is it your fault?”
“If I hadn’t gotten caught by the witch, Haven wouldn’t be in this situation now. He wouldn’t have had to rescue me.”
Haven had avoided her question about why he’d kidnapped them, even though when Wesley had entered the room, she’d started to suspect Haven’s reason for being compelled to make a deal with a witch.
“Go on,” Yvette encouraged him. Maybe Wesley could shed some more light on the situation. She told herself that it was merely natural curiosity that made her urge him to tell her what had really happened and not her unreasonable wish that Haven wasn’t just another callous vampire hunter. That maybe he’d had a valid reason for kidnapping them, an excuse that would make it easier for her to forgive him.
“I’m not telling you anything.”
Yvette heard the light footsteps behind her.
“Then tell me,” Kimberly offered and stepped next to her.
Wesley looked down at her, and his face suddenly softened. Not wanting to destroy whatever headway Kimberly was making with getting Wesley to open up, Yvette took a few measured steps to the side.
“My brother would do anything for me. He always has. He’s more like a father to me than a brother.”
Kimberly nodded and continued looking at him. Putting her hand on his forearm, she gave him an encouraging smile. Maybe the actress did have some skills Yvette hadn’t previously noticed. Was it genuine compassion oozing from her now, or was she simply using her acting skills to tease information
out of him? Where was the girl who, only minutes earlier, had proclaimed she didn’t want to be left alone with Wesley and his brother for fear they might do her bodily harm?
Yvette gave her another look. Kimberly was like a chameleon, constantly changing her colors for whatever the situation needed. If the girl didn’t already have a thriving career as an actress, she would have asked Gabriel if he’d take her on and train her as a mediator or hostage negotiator. Despite being human, a person with her ability to change her demeanor would be valuable in many situations. And surprisingly, the revelation that Yvette was a vampire had barely fazed her.
Not wanting to miss any of their conversation, Yvette put her thoughts on the back burner.
“Hav always bailed me out when I got into trouble. Just like this time. The witch, Bess, she tricked me; I didn’t know what she was until it was too late. My mother was a witch, you know, but I didn’t inherit her powers.”
Yvette listened up. Their mother was a witch? That would make both him and Haven witches too. Could this get any worse? Not only did she have the hots for a human guy who kidnapped her—oh no; he also had to be the son of a witch, and thereby a witch himself. Perfect. She sure knew how to pick ‘em!
Only, she hadn’t smelled the telltale scent of witch on him. Nor on his brother. How odd!
“Your mother was a witch?” Kimberly echoed.
Wesley held up his hand. “A good one, but not a powerful one. Only a few spells and potions. She used her powers mostly to heal people, to help, you know. She was a good woman.”
“And you? Do you do spells?” Kimberly pressed on, clearly fascinated.
He shook his head, and Yvette thought she could see regret in his face. “I don’t have any of her powers. Neither does Haven. That’s why I couldn’t sense that this woman was a witch. That’s why her trap worked. She lured me close and then imprisoned me.”
Yvette wrinkled her forehead. How was it possible that none of a witch’s children inherited her powers? At the very least at her death, her powers would have had to channel into some vessel or other. She knew enough about witchcraft to know that little fact. Was Wesley hiding the truth? Yvette calmed herself and reached out with her mind to feel his aura … She sensed nothing in it that would indicate he was a witch. She inhaled, his scent mingling with that of Kimberly … It was different from a purely human scent. Not witch. Not human. Something in between.
She shook her head and felt her stomach growl at the same time. Maybe her hunger for blood was screwing with her. Or the effects of the potion that had knocked her out were still lingering. When she’d been in the limousine with Kimberly, the girl had clearly smelled human. One hundred percent. And when Yvette had been pressed against the wall by Wesley earlier, she’d taken in his scent—then it had been entirely human.
Fuck, she needed blood or her entire mind would get fuzzy and unclear. Already now, she was losing her sharp senses.
“She said she knew where I could find some vampires to kill,” Wesley continued and tossed Yvette a sideways glance. She simply shrugged. What else was new? Rome wasn’t built in one day either. Teaching the pup that not all vampires were bad would take longer than that.
“Why do you kill vampires?” Kimberly asked, her voice carrying the innocence of her years.
Defiance and anger flared in Wesley’s eyes. “Because a vampire killed my mother when I was eight.”
Yvette looked away. She could understand his hatred. But she couldn’t condone the killing of innocent vampires. There was no use in telling him so, however: she wouldn’t change his attitude with her words.
“I’m so sorry,” Kimberly whispered.
For a moment, there was silence in the room so thick it had weight: an expectant heaviness to the air that pressed down, making it hard to draw a breath. But then Wesley seemed to have himself under control again. “When Bess captured me, she sent a message to Hav. She blackmailed him into kidnapping you and told him that she’d free me if you were brought to her. He had no choice.”
Kimberly nodded. “What does she want with me?” There was a trembling in her voice now. Instinctively, Yvette took a step toward her. With a sideways glance, Kimberly made a motion indicating she was okay.
“I don’t know. I wish I did.”
Nine
Haven felt the stinging pain as the whip sliced through the skin covering his abdomen. A punch in the gut his trained muscles could have absorbed easily, but the biting ends of the leather whip were another story.
“I wouldn’t need to do this if you were as accommodating as your little brother,” Bess, the witch, cajoled.
“Fuck you!” If she wanted to get inside his head, she’d have to slice him open. Simple as that.
“You should reconsider. The more you resist, the more it’s going to hurt.”
Haven’s eyes drifted around the room, trying to learn what he could about her. This time, he wasn’t in the living room she’d invited him into the first time. This latest torture chamber looked and reeked of mold and sweat, blood and tears. She’d tied him to a wooden scaffold with vines that had wrapped around his arms like rope guided by invisible hands. Whatever powers she held, she was strong. Much stronger than his mother had been.
From where—or what—she drew her power, he couldn’t figure out, but once he could discover the source, maybe he could destroy or at least weaken said source. From the little he remembered from this mother’s craft, he knew that every witch’s powers were anchored somewhere. If he could find that anchor, he could start to rock the boat.
“What do you want?”
“Your compliance.”
“Not gonna happen.” He spat at her feet, underscoring that he wasn’t the compliant sort of guy.
“I figured you’d be the stubborn one. But don’t worry, I’ll get there even without your help.” She flicked her wrist once more, letting the leather lash against his exposed chest. When he’d fought her mental invasion of his mind, she’d first stripped him of his dinner jacket, then ruined the shirt by slashing it in half. So much for getting his deposit on the rented suit back.
Blood oozed liberally from the gashes and trailed in rivulets over his chest and stomach. He’d been in worse shape and survived. “Over my dead body.”
There was a flicker in her eyes, and he realized he’d hit a nerve. She didn’t want him dead—no, for some reason, she needed him alive. It was her weak point. She could bloody him and hurt him, but she couldn’t kill him. It was a consolation, albeit a small one.
The witch narrowed her eyes, and a moment later he felt a current go through his head once more. She was trying it again, trying to invade his mind to find whatever she was after. But he wouldn’t let her. Haven clenched his jaw and tightened his neck muscles, trying to push against her. Visions of his mother’s last moments blinked in front of his eyes, and her last words echoed in his head. “Remember to love,” she’d reminded him with her last breath. Haven took comfort in her words and felt warmth spread in him. Suddenly, an electric shock surged through his body, and he spasmed. The accompanying shot of adrenaline gave him enough extra fuel to intensify the outward push against the violation.
He couldn’t explain what he was doing, but he knew it was working. The tendrils of Bess’ invading thoughts pulled from his mind and released him. The electric current receded until his head was clear again. “You bitch!” he hissed.
He would not allow her to get this close again. His mind was his own. Nobody had a right to go in there. It was where he kept all his fears and hopes locked up for nobody to ever see, hidden away from reality, from the cold, hard truth that kept nagging at him. A reality he never wanted to face, and hopes he wasn’t ready to give up even though with every day that passed, his hope of finding Katie grew slimmer. Nobody had a right to see the turmoil in his mind, the pain he concealed. He’d never even shared this with his brother. And he damn well wasn’t going to share it with the witch who held them captive.
Because showing what w
ent on inside him would weaken him. And he needed to be strong to get out of this alive.
The whip bit into his skin and jerked him back to the here-and-now. There was no escaping the pain as it seared through him. He tried to block it out, shut himself off from feeling anything, but it was useless. The pain sliced through every cell of his body, weakening his resolve. His heart beat frantically trying to pump blood where it was needed most.
“Fine, you won’t let me in, then you’ll give me the answer instead.”
Haven didn’t understand what she meant. She hadn’t asked him anything yet.
“Where’s the key to your power?”
What the hell? “What power?” he rasped out, his voice showing his body’s exhaustion from the beating, his ribs aching from the bruising they’d already taken.
“Your witch power!” Bess hissed impatiently.
“You must be crazy. I have no ‘witch power.’ ” Neither he nor his brother had ever had any of their mother’s powers, few as they were. If that was what the witch was after, to tap into his powers and maybe steal them, she was on a train to nowhere.
“Don’t lie to me!” She lashed the whip against his chest.
Haven groaned through the pain, grinding his teeth to ward off the worst. “I have no—”
Another lash aimed higher and cut into his neck. Streaks of white hot pain seared his skin as the whip sliced through the tender flesh. Haven pulled on his restraints in an attempt to escape, but they held firm. Like serpents, they snaked around his arms and tightened further, caressing his skin with as much gentleness as sandpaper.
“You’ll tell me now.” She stepped closer and swiped her hand over his face, delivering a powerful blow. His lip split, filling his mouth with blood. He spat it at her, ridding himself of the metallic taste that threatened to make him gag.
“You think I would let you beat me if I had any power?”
The witch paused in her next movement, a flash of curiosity crossing her features. “Could it be …?” she mumbled. Then she looked straight at him, an evil grin building on her face. “Your mama never told you, did she? Kept the knowledge to herself, huh? Or maybe, she never had a chance.” She paused, suddenly nodding to herself. “You were still a kid back then.”