Haven

by Mary Lindsey

  “It means you might have the capacity to become one of us.” She placed her palm against his forehead. “Your body is cooling, finally.” She slipped out of bed and into the shadows on the far side of the room. Her dress was long, like the kind movie stars wore, and though it was amazing, it didn’t suit her like torn jeans. Rain squinted at the bright beam of light slicing through the room as she opened a refrigerator door

  Become one of us… That should scare the hell out of him. He wasn’t even sure what becoming one of them entailed. He’d avoided gangs his whole life, skirting the edge just enough to know where and when things were going down so he could stay out of trouble. This had trouble written all over it.

  Her scent filled his head, and the bed dipped. The dress rustled when she slipped in next to him with a plastic sandwich bag full of ice. She piled the pillows behind him, and once he rested back against them, she placed the bag of ice on his forehead. “You’ll be back to normal soon.”

  Normal. He didn’t even know what that meant anymore. “Why me?”

  Her nails grazed his scalp as she brushed his hair back and moved the bag of ice higher on his head. “Feeling better?”

  He stilled her wrist. “Why me?”

  She looked away, avoiding his question. Rage like fire billowed up in his chest. He took a deep breath and consciously loosened his grip on her wrist to be sure he wouldn’t break her bones. Something was wrong with him. Really wrong. Everything was heightened. His sense of hearing, his ability to smell, and now, even his emotions—especially his emotions. An unexpected growl rose from his throat as he grabbed the bag of ice with his free hand and flung it across the room.

  His outburst apparently startled him more than Freddie, who arched an eyebrow as if waiting for him to do or say something else.

  His nausea had completely disappeared, which would have been a relief, were it not for the aggression that had taken its place. Heart pounding, he released her wrist and scooted away. Her scent wrapped around him, making it impossible to focus on anything else but her—her pale eyes; her thick hair; her smooth, silky skin he wanted to touch all over. Skin he wanted to kiss…and bite.

  Shit.

  He scrambled out of the bed and retreated to the far corner of the room, spearing his fingers into his hair as he paced like a caged animal.

  “What you’re feeling is normal, Rain.”

  No. Wanting to bite a girl—really bite her—was not normal. Through the window over her bed, moonlight streamed in, bathing her in a cool glow, causing her satin gown to shimmer. Never had he wanted anything as badly as he wanted Friederike Burkhart at that moment, and if he didn’t get out of her bedroom, he was going to do something monumentally stupid. “I’ve gotta go.”

  Stepping in his way, she held her arms out to block him from reaching her door. “Sorry. I can’t let you go out like this.”

  He shoved by her, but before he reached the doorknob, she spun him around and slammed him up against the wall, knocking the wind out of his lungs. Damn, she was strong.

  “Can’t let you leave, Rain.”

  He sucked in a wheezing breath and met her eyes directly. “What’s happening to me?”

  “Remember in the cave at Enchanted Rock when you told me everyone has a beast inside?” Hands still on his shoulders, she took a step nearer. “You were right, and yours is close to the surface. It’s what the wine does—it heightens the beast. Watchers drink it two days before the full moon to wake our wolves so we can shift quickly. In your case, you won’t turn because there’s another step, but the beast is roused.”

  He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall with a thump. Beast. He sure felt like one. “How long will it last?”

  Her body met his as she relaxed into him. “Hard to say. You’re feeling better now, right? The queasiness is gone, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. You’re out of the woods, then.”

  “Why did Grant do this to me?”

  She took a deep breath, and her brow furrowed. “Because I showed interest in you. This should never have happened. It’s all my fault. I’ll make sure it never happens again.”

  He stopped her from pulling away, and it was all he could do to not crush her against him and kiss her. She was right. The wine had certainly brought out something animal in him. “And what is Grant’s role? He’s not a wolf.”

  Her body remained tense. “He’s a Weaver. And his job, like his father before him, is to maintain pack balance. We’re low on new members. Through history, people with a strong beast inside have been singled out by the Weavers and put through this test to keep the pack strong by adding new stock to the bloodline.”

  He ran his fingers up and down her spine, loving the silkiness of her dress and the feel of her body against his, surprised this news didn’t scare the shit out of him. “So they’re looking to add me to your pack.”

  Palms on his chest, she pushed back, but he held her firm at the waist. “It’s not gonna happen. Ever. I won’t allow them to do this to you.”

  “And they always do what you say?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I’m the Alpha.”

  “I thought your uncle was in charge.”

  “Only until I’m eighteen. Youth is an asset in the pack. When the heir is of age, power transfers and the exiting Alpha stays on as adviser.”

  “And I have no say in this?” Not that he had enough information to decide either way, but he wanted to know where he stood.

  “None whatsoever. You don’t have a clue how horrible it would be. The danger you’d be in.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Presuming you lived through the transformation at all.” She turned her face to the side. She looked different with makeup and earrings and her hair pulled back—elegant. And completely wrong. He preferred her earthy and primal. “I refuse to let this happen again,” she continued. “The test is risky enough; you’re lucky to have lived through it. The next step is much, much worse.”

  Again… This had happened before. “Is this how you became a Watcher?”

  “No. I’m a natural-born shifter. My ancestors were turned centuries ago.”

  Millions of questions swirled in his brain, but he found it hard to focus with her this near. It was as if his body had a will of its own. All he wanted was to rip off his shirt so he could feel her against his skin. He shook his head to clear it. “So what exactly are Weavers?”

  “Not now.” She placed her finger over his lips. “I don’t want to waste time talking.” She traced his lips with her fingertip. “We won’t get this chance ever again.”

  He opened his mouth to object, but she cut him off with a kiss. “This will be your only time to feel your wolf rise, and it’s the best part.” She ran her hands down the planes of his chest, stopping at the waist of his jeans, and his heart rate kicked up even further.

  “What part is that?”

  “The part where the wolf is near the surface but can be controlled.” She popped the button on his jeans, and he sucked in a raspy breath.

  “Controlled by whom?” His voice came out deep and strained.

  She grinned as she slid down his zipper. “By me. Because you, Rain Ryland, are about to completely lose control.”

  Twenty-Three

  Rain sifted his fingers through Freddie’s hair as the light from the window above them bathed the room in the warm amber light of sunrise.

  His nausea had returned right before the sun had come up, but it was more manageable now. Hell, everything was more manageable now. Never, ever in his wildest dreams had he imagined someone like this girl. Smart, powerful, and holy shit, the things she did to his body and mind. She’d said they’d never be together like this again because it put him in danger. Well, that was a load of shit. He didn’t scare that easily.

  Bang, bang, bang, bang.

  Freddie shot upright in bed and shouted at the door, “This had better be good or you’re dead!” She snatched her dress from the footboard and stepped into it
.

  More banging.

  Grumbling about her cousins, she staggered to the door, holding the back of the dress together with one hand and rubbing her eyes with the other.

  Rain didn’t even have his jeans all the way up when she yanked open the door, but it wasn’t one of her cousins, it was Chief Richter standing there.

  Shit, shit, shit. He fought back another wave of nausea and zipped his fly. Leaning over to grab his T-shirt caused his head to almost explode.

  “What do you want?” Freddie’s tone struck him as abnormally hostile.

  The chief’s response was controlled and frigid. “Him.”

  Freddie defensively blocked the doorway. “Why?”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “Oh, it’s my business all right. Just like it should’ve been my business with Gerald.” Her fancy hairstyle had fallen apart last night. She reached under the tangles to fasten the buttons on the back of the dress. “The answer is no. It will always be no.”

  A horrible gloat stretched Chief Richter’s face. “It appears to me…” She paused to look both Freddie and Rain up and down, then pointedly studied the rumpled bed before returning her gaze to Freddie. “That ‘no’ is not in your vocabulary.”

  Rain caught Freddie around the waist before she lunged at the chief, pulling her against him. “Don’t,” he whispered in her ear as much for himself as for her. With his splitting headache and acute nausea, he’d love nothing more than to let Freddie go nuts on the woman, or shove the chief back on her ass himself, but it would only be one moment of gratification, paid for with days/weeks/months, maybe even years of regret.

  Freddie stilled in his arms, a low growl rumbling deep in her throat. Chief Richter’s only response was a dramatic arch of one eyebrow.

  “Am I under arrest?” Rain asked.

  “Should you be?”

  “No.”

  “Well, that’s reassuring at least. I’m taking you home. Your aunt is worried sick about you.”

  Shit. Poor Ruby. “I’ll drive home now. I should’ve called her. Sorry you had to come out.”

  “You’ll do no such thing. You don’t have a license.” She gave Freddie a glare. “Besides, you and I need to have a chat, Aaron Ryland.”

  “I said no,” Freddie snapped. “He’s not going to be a part of this.”

  “That’s his choice now, isn’t it?”

  “No. It’s mine. I don’t want him. I won’t accept him. Ever.”

  Again, the chief’s eyes roved over her bed and the tangled sheets. “Really?” She snapped her fingers. “Come, Ryland.”

  What the hell? “Um…” His pounding head and roiling gut made it impossible to form thoughts. It was like his brain had short-circuited.

  Chief Richter smiled and crooked a finger. As if on their own, his feet shuffled forward.

  “Stop it,” Freddie shouted. “Leave him alone.” She grabbed Rain’s arm and pulled hard, but he shook her off easily despite the fact he hadn’t intended to. It was like he was a puppet controlled by invisible strings propelling him toward the waiting squad car.

  “He doesn’t know anything. He can be set free and moved away from New Wurzburg.” Freddie’s voice sounded desperate now.

  The chief paused only long enough to open the back door for Rain. “He can end up in a terrible accident and be found dead in a ditch at the side of a country road, too.” She opened the driver’s door and slid in. “Or maybe discovered in a field, the victim of a tragic wild animal attack. There have been a lot of those recently, haven’t there?” She made a tsking sound as she closed the door.

  “You bitch!” Freddie screamed before the chief sped from the lot.

  Heart hammering, Rain noticed there was no handle in the back of the squad car. He was trapped. Obviously, the chief had manipulated him mentally, somehow, which was probably why he’d felt weird during their first meeting at the station. Maybe the wine last night weakened him to where he couldn’t defend himself like he had then. Only, until now, he hadn’t been certain that was what had happened.

  Over his shoulder, Haven Winery disappeared behind a hill. The chief’s voice ran through his head. Found dead in a ditch at the side of a country road. This car ride could be the last moments of his life. The final chapter of a story that went nowhere.

  “So, you drank the wine and lived.”

  So far.

  She glanced at him in the oversize rearview mirror. “I’m impressed. Not convinced, though. What has the girl told you?”

  Back to familiar routine: cop asks questions. He remains silent.

  The dewy grass on the rolling hills sparkled in the sunlight as they whizzed past acre after acre.

  “You see me as the enemy, but I’m not. She has it all wrong. The Weavers make it possible for her pack to live among humans. To thrive. We’re the reason they exist in the first place.”

  The tension in his chest unlocked a bit when she turned in the correct direction to take him home. Maybe she didn’t intend to leave him dead somewhere.

  Then, she turned down a single-lane dirt road.

  Maybe she did…

  She stopped the car and twisted in the front seat to face him.

  “You are the last hope that girl has. Either she settles down and straightens up, or she’ll be kenneled or destroyed.”

  He shifted his gaze from the field of tall grass to her face. “What does that have to do with me?”

  “You know what she is, right?”

  “She’s my friend.”

  One side of her mouth quirked up. “Okay, you can play ignorant.” She narrowed her eyes. “If you want her to live… If you want to live… If you want your aunt Ruby to live, you will exhibit common sense and go along with this. You will attempt the change. Are we clear?”

  He clenched his jaw so tight, he was sure his teeth would crack as he maintained eye contact. All his life he’d dealt with gangs and bullies. Chief Richter was just one more bully—there was a difference, though. In the past, the threats had been against only him. This was aimed at people he cared for.

  She ripped the car into gear and backed onto the highway, then wordlessly drove him to Ruby’s house.

  He could hardly believe it when he stepped out onto the driveway. Blinking in the bright sun, he took a deep breath, nausea welling and head pounding, glad to still be alive.

  Ruby ran out and threw her arms around him. “Oh, thank God you’re okay. Thank you, Chief, for finding him and bringing him home. I was so worried.”

  The chief remained in her car. “He’s very capable, Ruby, and has a strong survival instinct. Hopefully he has common sense as well.”

  Without another word, she took off, leaving him with Ruby, a sick stomach, a pounding head, and a billion unanswered questions.

  Twenty-Four

  The word “hangover” didn’t even begin to cover Rain’s condition when he woke up. He’d never felt this bad in his life. Chief Richter’s threats and the fact he’d upset Aunt Ruby made him feel even worse. Then, add to that the girl who drove him wild had actually said they’d never be together again and she didn’t want him, and he was in a royal shit mood.

  “Hey.” At least his aunt had whispered and left the lights off.

  He could manage only a grunt in response.

  “I’m off to work.” She stepped into the room and put his phone on the nightstand next to him. “It’s been dinging since yesterday morning.” She patted his shoulder. “Someone’s worried about you.”

  Yesterday morning? He pushed up to sitting, and his head spun. “Wha—?”

  “You’ve been out for a whole day.” In the light shining around the curtains, he could just make out her face. She smiled. “Must’ve been one hell of a party.”

  “Uh…yeah.”

  “See ya tonight. Sandwich makings in the fridge. Fresh bread on the counter.”

  The mention of food made him want to puke, but he groaned instead.

  “There’s aspirin in the top d
rawer of my bedroom dresser. Drink lots of water.”

  “Thanks.” At least he could finally form words. “Sorry.”

  She paused in the doorway. “No need for that. We all do stuff we regret. No one got hurt, and that’s all that matters.” She took a deep breath, and the furrow in her brow smoothed. “Better let the girl who’s been texting you nonstop know you’re okay.” She winked. “Looks like you’ve got a friend.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment after she left. A friend. She was so much more, and yet he wasn’t sure where they stood. I won’t accept him…ever, she’d said. And she’d mentioned Gerald as if his situation were parallel. As he went to the bathroom to splash water on his face, his stomach rolled over. Bloodshot eyes stared back at him in the mirror. He looked like hell… He felt like hell. He barely made it to the toilet before he was sick.

  Ding.

  He wasn’t up to dealing with her right now. Not while his head felt like it was inside a goldfish bowl. He might text something he’d regret, and there was way too much at stake. He put down his toothbrush and turned on the shower.

  Ding.

  Hopefully a shower would clear his head. Cool water ran down his feverish body, helping with the headache but not the anxiety that had escalated since leaving Haven Winery. Chief Richter had threatened him if he didn’t go through with the next step, whatever that was, which Freddie clearly opposed. Was he ready to become something other than what he already was? Hell, he didn’t even know what all was involved.

  “Shit, shit, shit!”

  Shouting was a mistake that sent him to his knees in the shower.

  The first thing he needed to do was clear his head enough to talk to Freddie and get some straight answers. Telling him that being with her was dangerous wasn’t good enough. He wanted specifics. He wanted the truth. First, though, he needed aspirin.

  Ding.

  He scooped up his phone and saw the last three messages from Freddie. All said, You okay? Worried.

  I’m ok. Will call later, he shot back.

  After pulling on clean clothes, he staggered into the hallway, right about the time someone banged on the door. Loud. Well, maybe it wasn’t that loud, but with his headache, it was painful.