by Tina Folsom
Gabriel nodded and waved to one of the vamps behind him. “Get him.” Then he turned back to Yvette. “We were worried about you.”
“I’m fine.”
“And your charge? Where’s Kimberly?”
Yvette turned her head to the open door behind her. “It’s safe to come out now.”
Over Yvette’s shoulder, Zane saw the girl appear. He recognized her, but something was different. While she clearly looked the same when he’d seen her a few nights earlier, something was very wrong. There was a strange air about her. But he didn’t get a chance to figure out what it was, because behind the girl two men appeared.
One he recognized instantly from the picture Samson had drawn: Haven, the man who’d kidnapped Yvette and Kimberly.
It had been a trap.
Zane took a deep breath, reading himself for another fight, when the whiff he took in jolted him.
Shit! Witches! Not just Haven, but all three of them!
“Get ‘em!” he yelled at the same time as he brought his arm up, the vial still clutched in his palm. He caught Yvette’s stunned look the instant he flicked his wrist back and released the vial the way a baseball player would throw a curve ball.
“NO!” Yvette’s scream pierced the sudden silence as she dove for it, trying to catch it.
But Zane knew his throwing arm to be as wicked as his heart. She had no chance of stopping him. Why she wanted to in the first place, he couldn’t comprehend. Stockholm syndrome, he briefly wondered, before he saw the glass shatter at the feet of the three witches. A green vapor rose from the liquid that was released.
A second later, all three collapsed.
Yvette reached them first, but if he’d expected her to lunge for the girl she’d been protecting, he was wrong. She reached for Haven. “Oh God! Zane! What have you done?”
She fell to her knees and lifted his body, pressing his head against her chest. “NO!”
Zane had never seen Yvette cry, and he hoped to God he’d never have to again. Her tears were pink as they streaked her cheeks, and her sobs sliced his heart in half.
She was crying tears for the witch, who’d kidnapped her.
Twenty-Four
Haven’s head hurt as if he’d been on a three-day bender. Not that that hadn’t happened before, but somehow he didn’t think it was the reason for his throbbing, watermelon-sized headache. What the fuck had happened to him? Last thing he remembered was Yvette telling him and his siblings that it was safe to come out. The fighting had already stopped and the witch inexplicable disappeared in the midst of it.
Forcing his heavy eyelids open, he took in his surroundings. An unfamiliar room greeted him. Richly furnished, not the sparseness of his earlier prison. The mattress underneath him was soft.
Haven jolted upright. He still wore the same clothes as before—pants, no shirt, because the witch had shredded that with her whip. Somebody had taken his boots off.
A sound next to him made him spin his head. Relief washed through him: Wesley was slowly waking beside him. Haven shook his shoulder.
“Wes!”
His brother’s eyes flew open. Instantly he sat up and looked around. “Fuck, where are we? What happened?”
Haven shook his head. “I don’t know.” He gave the room another look, before he realized something was amiss. “Shit! Where’s Kimberly?” He jumped off the bed, Wesley right on his heels.
“Kimberly!” he called out as he headed for the door and turned the knob. As it swung open, Haven found himself confronted by a hulk-sized guy with long, dark hair.
“Shit!” Haven cursed. “What have you bastards done with Kimberly?” He didn’t have to be a brainiac to figure out that the guy who was blocking the door was a vampire: one of Yvette’s colleagues for sure. At the thought of her, he felt a stab in his chest. Had she sold them out after all? Had she lied when she’d promised them they’d be safe? Why that thought hurt so much, he didn’t want to examine. He should have expected as much. After all, she was a vampire. A vampire who’d seduced him. A woman he wanted again.
“Kimberly’s fine,” the big guy responded. “Why don’t you guys get cleaned up, then you can come down to meet everybody.”
Haven narrowed his eyes. “Who are you?”
The guy grinned. “Amaury’s the name.” Then his facial muscles tensed. “Yvette is my friend.” There was an underlying threat in his words.
“Where is she?”
“At home.”
Deflated, Haven’s shoulders dropped. She’d run out on him and served him up to the wolves. Why had he ever started to trust her?
A strange smile curled around Amaury’s lips. “She’ll be back.” He turned away from the door, then thought otherwise and looked back at them over his shoulder. “She was a little shaken. Thought Zane had killed you.” Then he pointed toward the inside of the room. “There’s an ensuite bathroom. Come downstairs when you’re ready.”
Haven closed the door and turned back to Wes, who stood right behind him.
“He’s one of the vampires, isn’t he?” Wesley asked.
Absentmindedly, Haven nodded. But he couldn’t form words, because he was still digesting Amaury’s claim. Yvette was shaken because she thought that someone had killed him? Did this mean she cared? About him?
“Shit, Hav! What are we gonna do now?”
“I’ll take a shower.”
“How can you think of something so mundane right now?”
Very easily. If Yvette was coming back here, he didn’t want to stink like a pig. He hadn’t showered in two days. He wanted to give her no reason to pull back from him.
“If that vampire wanted to hurt us, he would have already done it while we were unconscious.” Maybe Yvette’s promise was good after all. He sure hoped so for all their sakes.
Twenty minutes later, he and Wes were ready to hit the lion’s den. The corridor was empty when they left the room behind them. From what Haven had seen so far, they were in an old Victorian home. From the window, he’d looked out into the neighborhood and seen the lights in the dark. They were somewhere in Nob Hill or Russian Hill, the posh areas of San Francisco. Figured the bloodsuckers had money.
Descending the dark mahogany staircase, Haven took in his surroundings. Yes, the place was elegant and well kept. Voices drifted to him when he reached the foot of the stairs. He glanced to his side.
“You ready?”
Wes shrugged then looked at the heavy entrance door. “If Kimberly was with us, I’d make a run for it.”
“I know. But we can’t leave her here.”
His brother nodded. “That’s the only reason I’m going in there.” He tilted his head toward the door from which the voices emanated.
“Ditto,” Haven lied. He cared for his sister, naturally. But he also wanted to see Yvette. Not just wanted, needed. To understand what was going on between them. What he’d felt when locked up with her couldn’t simply be attributed to lust. Sure, they’d gone at it like a bunch of randy rabbits, but he knew there was something else between them.
“You gonna stand there forever or are you planning on running?” a voice came from down the long dark corridor.
Haven turned his head and squinted, trying to make out the tall figure of a man as he approached. He was lean, his head shaved bald, his eyes glaring at him and Wes. His mouth was pressed into a thin line; there was something dangerous wafting around him. Haven suppressed the shiver of unease that rolled down his spine. Instinct told him not to show any weakness to the stranger.
“What’s it to you?”
The bald man—make that vampire, considering the nasty snarl he now unleashed—took another step toward them. “I wanna warn you. Either of you mess with us, and I’ll crush you with one hand. Very, very slowly.” From the way he issued his threat, Haven was sure that the jerk would get a hell lot of pleasure out of it too.
“And you wanna tell me who’s making that threat?” Haven ignored Wes’ hand on his arm, clearly trying to hold hi
m back from saying anything stupid. “Or shall I just call you asshole?”
Before he could blink, the vamp was on him—he hadn’t even seen him move!
Haven was choked by fingers like steel traps.
“ZANE!” The commanding voice made the asshole release his death grip on Haven’s throat.
Haven coughed and pulled in a breath of air. Shit, that bastard was strong—and fast. He’d had no chance to react: the vampire was that snake-quick.
From the now open door, a man walked out: equally tall and dark, yet with short black hair. He scowled at Zane. “If you can’t be civil with our guests, I can take you off the team.”
Zane narrowed his eyes, then stepped back farther. Through clenched teeth, he issued only one word. “Understood.” Then we walked into the living room without another glance at Haven or Wesley.
Whatever the “team” was, clearly the bald asshole didn’t want to be removed from it. Haven’s gaze drifted back to the man who’d intervened.
“Samson Woodford,” he introduced himself and stretched out his hand.
Without thinking, Haven shook it. “Haven Montgomery.”
“I know.” Then he shook Wesley’s hand. “Yvette already filled us in.” He nodded toward the living room behind him. “Come inside.”
The elegant Victorian living room was jam-packed. Were all those people vampires? Haven counted the heads: six men and several women. His eyes searched the room.
“Kimberly!” he called out with relief as he saw her. She jumped up from the couch and threw herself into his outstretched arms. “Did they hurt you?” He held her away from him to search for any injuries, but everything looked good. By the looks of it, she’d showered and was now dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.
“We were worried,” Wes said from beside him and wrestled Kimberly from him to squeeze her tightly.
“I’m all right.” She glanced back at Haven. “They’ve been very nice to me.”
Haven nodded, then looked back at the strangers facing him. Again he searched the room: four women, but Yvette wasn’t among them. Disappointment spread. Amaury had said she’d come back. Haven looked at the hulk of a man and gave him a questioning look, but Amaury said nothing. And Haven was too proud to ask where Yvette was.
“Take a seat, please,” Samson offered and pointed at one of the couches.
“I’d rather stand.” Most of the men in the room stood. He didn’t want to have to look up to them. It was bad enough that they all looked intimidating. Big guys, all of them: one with a ponytail and gruesome scar on his cheek, a blonde one in biker gear, the evil Zane, a sunny-boy all fresh faced and innocent looking; he was probably the least intimidating of the bunch, Amaury, and Samson. The women sat: each of them beautiful in their own right. Were they all vampires? He glanced at them, trying not to be too obvious in his perusal, in case any of the vampires took issue.
When he moved his eyes from one woman to the next, they suddenly landed on a rounded shape that was oddly out of place. Holy shit, one of the women was pregnant! Heavily so. By the looks of it she was ready to pop. A pregnant vampire? Instantly his thoughts went back to Yvette and her assurance that he didn’t have to worry about pregnancy.
“I believe introductions are in order,” Samson said, his voice even as if it happened every day that he welcomed a vampire hunter into his house. “You’ve met Amaury and Zane.”
At the mention of his name, Zane simply pressed his lips together even tighter. Haven ignored him and followed Samson’s pointing hand as he introduced the remainder of his colleagues.
“Gabriel, my second in command.” The scarred guy. He nodded.
“Thomas, our IT specialist.” Ah, the biker. Who would have thought?
“Eddie, he’s our youngest.” Sunny-boy. Figured.
“Amaury’s wife Nina,” he introduced a stunning blonde.
“Gabriel’s wife Maya.” The dark beauty tossed her long hair over her shoulder and nodded.
“My wife, Delilah,” he introduced the pregnant woman. She gave him a ravishing smile.
“Excuse me if I don’t get up to shake your hand, but the baby is getting a little heavy.”
Instantly, Samson moved to her side, concern on his face. “Why don’t you lie down, sweetness? You look tired.”
She waved him off. “You fuss too much. I’m fine. But I could do with some food.”
Samson stood and called out toward another open door which lay behind the dining area. “Oliver?” A second later, a young man appeared.
“Yes, Samson?”
“Bring some food for my wife and the guests.” Then he turned. “Nina, are you hungry too?”
Haven watched the exchange with surprise. Food? What was going on here? He knew for certain that vampires didn’t eat food. If he’d ever had any doubts about it, being in close quarters with Yvette had dispelled all of those. Were they going to drink blood right in front of him and Wesley? Haven’s lips turned down in disgust.
“A sandwich would do,” Nina replied.
Haven gave her a surprised look. “Sandwich?” he echoed.
Samson looked back at him and smiled. “Excuse the oversight, but maybe I should have made it clear that not all of us are vampires.”
Haven raised his eyebrows.
“You’re kidding,” Wesley let out.
“My wife and Nina are human.”
The clearing of a throat made Samson look at the last woman he hadn’t introduced yet. “I’m sorry, Francine. My apologies for not introducing you. This is Francine. She’s a witch.”
Haven’s head swam with information he needed to digest. Two of the vampires were married to human women? And one of them was pregnant? Hell, if he’d ever had an information overload, it was now. How was this possible? How could a human woman marry a bloodsucker?
And how common was this? Vampires sleeping with humans? Did this mean that him wanting to fuck Yvette wasn’t quite as perverse as he thought it was?
Haven gazed at the woman who’d been introduced at the very end: Francine. She looked familiar. He knew her from somewhere, but the memory of her face was blurry. “Have we met?” he asked her.
Francine smiled. “I was wondering whether you’d remember me. I was a friend of your mother. You were ten or eleven back then.”
Haven closed his eyes for a moment, letting the memories flood his mind. Yes, Francine had visited her mother. The last time he remembered seeing her was shortly before Katie was born. “You and her … you argued.”
Francine’s face turned serious. “Let’s not talk about that now. I’m happy to see that you finally found Katie.”
Instinctively, his gaze wandered to his sister, who now sat next to the pregnant Delilah. She seemed to be comfortable and completely at ease in her surroundings, despite the knowledge that the men around her were vampires. “It was that witch who found her, but nevertheless, we have her back.”
He felt his brother’s hand on his shoulder. “Yes, we do.”
Samson crossed his arms over his chest. “Family reunion aside, that’s where our problem begins.”
“Problem? Listen,” Haven started. “I know you’re probably all pissed because I abducted Yvette and Kimberly, but I had no choice. That witch, Bess she called herself, was holding Wesley captive. I couldn’t let him rot there.”
“We know all that,” Samson said calmly. “That’s not the problem. Not anymore anyway. Nobody was killed in the fight. But it’s not the end of it.”
“You freed us from the witch. Thank you for that. Now, since there are no hard feelings, I’d like to have a word with Yvette and then get out of here. No offense.”
“None taken,” Samson conceded. “But you’re not leaving. Neither of you three.”
Shock coursed through Haven. Had he simply exchanged one prison for another?
Twenty-Five
Haven drew in a breath and glared at Samson, taking two steps toward him, before Zane blocked his approach. The bald vampire flashed his fangs
. Vaguely, Haven heard Kimberly gasp and sensed Wesley move to his side. But he couldn’t take his eyes off the hostile vamp.
“Get out of my fucking way!”
“Zane!” Samson admonished.
Tense seconds passed before Zane rolled his shoulders and followed his boss’ command.
“Excuse my associate, but he has an aversion to witches,” Samson explained.
Great! And if Yvette could be believed, he and his siblings were witches. This didn’t bode well for his immediate future. Haven cast a quick glance at his sister and noticed how the pregnant Delilah patted Kimberly’s hand as if to reassure her, a warm smile playing around her lips.
The assembled group was a study in contradiction. On one hand, Amaury and Delilah were treating him, Wesley and Kimberly politely, on the other hand, Zane showed open hostility, while Samson was keeping them prisoner. Where the rest of the vamps stood, he couldn’t determine yet. And as to where Francine fit in … he was entirely in the dark.
“I’d like an explanation of what you want from us,” Haven demanded, tossing Samson a challenging look while at the same time widening his stance. Yet deep down he knew fighting them would be a suicide mission. And he couldn’t risk the lives of his brother and sister. He’d jumped from the frying pan into the fire.
Samson nodded, a contemplative look on his face. “And you deserve one. Let me assure you that we have no interest in harming you, but we need to protect ourselves, and unleashing the Power of Three will upset the balance of power in our world. We can’t allow that.”
“Hold it right there.” Haven held up his hand. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about. As I told Yvette before, we have no powers. We might smell like witches, but we have no powers.”
“Not yet.” Francine rose from her seat.
Frustrated, Haven huffed. “And what the fuck does that mean?” He glared at Francine. “How about you tell me what you know and stop with the cryptic remarks.”