Havenfall Harbor: Book One

by Albany Walker

  Fuck, maybe I’m all wrong, putting more stock into my reactions to her than I should be.

  Griff stomps into the plane, his face curled into a heavy scowl as he stalks past me and lowers himself into a seat on the opposite side of the aisle. “Find a seat, kid.”

  Max seals the door and makes a quick announcement about the flight and when we should arrive. I tune him out. Quinn’s scent is filling the cabin and my muscles are bouncing with the need to go to her, to assure her she’s fine. We should have just waited until tomorrow to leave. But I stay put, gripping the arms of the chair like I’m the one suddenly afraid to fly.

  “Can I sit with you?” Jacob nearly whispers. I turn my head and watch Quinn open her eyes slowly, her lips pulling up into a placating smile.

  “Sure, here. Let me move this.” She reaches over and drags the bag from the other seat, holding it on her lap while Jacob shimmies past her knees to get into the seat on her right.

  “Does it go fast? Does it feel like a roller coaster? I’ve never been on a roller coaster.” The boy rambles while Quinn’s scent grows even stronger.

  The muscle in her temple flexes, but she says, “It goes fast, but it doesn’t really feel like it. Have you ever been on an elevator? That’s kind of how it feels, but only on takeoff. Buckle up.” I can hear the tension in her voice, but the kid is oblivious.

  “Man, this is awesome, how high will we be? I wish it was daytime so I could see everything.”

  Quinn drops the back of her head against the seat and blows out a long breath. “You can still see the lights from the cities. Open up the window if you want.” Quinn keeps her head and eyes forward. She’s freaked out but doing everything she can not to let Jacob know. “It’ll be over before you know it,” she mutters to herself as the engine whirs to life.

  As the plane lifts, she shows no outward signs she’s even uncomfortable. But she can’t mask her scent or the rapid thud of her heartbeat. I let out a soft whine that comes entirely from my bear and clear my throat to cover the sound.

  I’ve purposefully kept my eyes off Griff, but I seek him out now to see if he noticed the slip. He’s sitting at the table, his eyes trained on the side of Quinn’s face, and he isn’t even breathing. His entire body is frozen, completely focused on the woman across the aisle from him.

  When I stand up, Quinn’s gaze darts to me, but she aims her eyes back on the seat in front of her immediately.

  “Whoa.” Jacob lays his hand on his stomach as a grin curls his lips. We haven’t leveled out yet, so the weightless effect is making it hard to walk, but I still make my way back to the table, touching the seats I pass to keep my balance as I do.

  Quinn’s knuckles are white as she grips the ends of the armrests, and her breathing is shallow. I have to bite my lip to keep myself from reminding her to even out her breathing.

  “This is amazing! Can you see this from over there? Look!” Jacob points at the oval window next to him, not realizing how uncomfortable Quinn is. It shows just how underdeveloped he is as a shifter. At his age, I would have been able to read her scent, but he can’t. It makes me want to watch Thomas be ripped apart again.

  “Come over here, kid. There are more windows.” My voice is just above a growl, but Jacob scrambles to get his seatbelt off. Quinn’s eyes close slowly before they pop back open. Her head doesn’t move as Jacob nearly climbs over her lap to get to the other side of the plane.

  “Careful,” Griff barks, just as I open my mouth to say the same.

  “Sorry,” the boy mumbles, stepping into the aisle. He ducks his head and climbs on the chair with his knees so he doesn’t have to look away. “We’re so high.” His voice is filled with awe.

  Quinn’s nostrils flare as she drags in a breath. I stop near the side of her seat, ready to grab her up and put her in my lap. If she was a shifter, I would do just that. In my moment of indecision, she tosses her bag into the seat Jacob just vacated and turns her face to the side. I know she doesn’t want me to sit down, but I’m just as stubborn as she is. The seats back here are smaller to accommodate the table and captain chairs, so I end up stepping over her legs to get into the other seat. Her bag is surprisingly heavy when I scoop it off the seat and place it gently on the floor.

  I give her a few seconds to adjust to my presence before I lean over and sigh into her ear. “Deep breaths, solnyshko.” I make sure to drag in a long, slow breath, and exhale in the same way so she can follow me. Within seconds her inhales are matched to mine. I don’t speak anymore, just make sure she keeps her breathing matched with mine. After five minutes, her shoulders are a little lower and her heart is a steady thrum, not the panicked gallop it was before.

  I drop my head back and lower my eyes to slits. I can still watch her, but at least it’s not so obvious. I fight the urge to lay my hand on Quinn’s for the next ten minutes, but give up when the plane bounces a bit with a small patch of turbulence.

  “What’s that?” Jacob’s voice is high-pitched, edged with a little fear.

  “Bumpy air.” Quinn turns so she’s looking at the boy, then adds, “Nothing to worry about.”

  I watch Griff lower his head into his hands. The action pretty much sums up how I’m feeling too. Humbled. Here she is, dealing with her own fear, but she takes the time to comfort the wolf. Yeah, I don’t think either one of us deserves her.

  Chapter 14

  Quinn

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I promise Jacob, as he watches me over his shoulder. It’s clear his sister has had a big influence on him. I can’t imagine any other reason he would have softened to me so quickly. It must be because I’m a woman, and he doesn’t seem to hold the fact that I’m human against me.

  Evan jerks his head to get Jacob moving. I can’t hear his words, they’re too far away now, but I wait until they turn the corner before lumbering over to the elevator. A quick glance down at my watch shows me it’s damn near the time I usually wake up. While I’m waiting for the doors to open, I pull out my phone and edit my alarm so I can sleep a few extra hours.

  I don’t bother looking up as I step into the car, and it’s not until I go to push the button for the third floor when I realize I’m not alone. Letty is leaning against the back wall, her arms spread wide behind her, holding onto the railing. I inwardly roll my eyes. I really don’t want to deal with her tonight, I’m too tired. But there’s something about her appearance that has me taking a second glance. I’m used to seeing her in her security uniform—black cargo pants and a button up shirt. They don’t distract from her allure, but the skintight pants and sheer shirt she’s donning now ramps up the sex appeal.

  I do look away when I realize her nipples are on full display. If I liked her, I’d tell her she looks smokin’ and whoever she’s going to see or coming from was lucky, but I don’t, so I keep my mouth shut.

  The button for the third floor is already highlighted, so I lean my shoulder against the wall and continue to mess with my phone. I idly wonder if her room is on the third floor, I don’t think I’ve ran into her up there before.

  The slight bounce of the car arriving reminds me of the feeling on the plane. It makes me anxious to get out of the elevator. I pocket my phone and stick my hand in my bag to retrieve my keys as I exit. Without looking, I know Letty got off after me. Even though she didn’t even speak to me, I still don’t like the feeling of having her at my back, so I slow my steps, pretending I need to search my bag.

  She passes by me, sauntering to the door at the end of the hall. Her knuckles barely brush the wood when the door is pulled open, and there’s a damp, shirtless Griffin standing on the other side. His brows furrow when he sees her, but then his gaze is drawn to me. I lower my head and pull my keys from my bag.

  I shouldn’t be surprised, he did say he had coffee right next door. Makes sense that’s where his room is. Not to mention I saw him and Letty leaving his office the other day, or was that today? Doesn’t matter. I drop my bag on the floor then flip the lock behind me the mom
ent the door shuts.

  Not bothering with the lights, I take a step forward and end up on my ass. “Motherfucker!” the curse leaves my lips without thought. Cool liquid seeps into my jeans and I can feel wetness coating my fingers.

  The door behind me bangs once. “What happened?” Griffin’s voice is short and harsh.

  “Supernatural hearing!” I scowl and put my hand back out behind me to pick myself up off the ground.

  “Eww.” The liquid is thick. “What the hell?”

  The door bangs again, twice this time. “Quinn.” Griffin’s voice is full of warning. “Are you bleeding?”

  “Give me a minute, I need to get up.” My pants make a slurping sound when I lift my leg to place my foot on the ground. “There must be a leak, I need to call maintenance.” I hope I’m not sitting in sewage.

  I hear the knob on the door crack as the light from the hall pools around me. Still half sprawled on the floor, I see Griffin standing in the doorway, his figure blocking most of the light.

  He sucks in a deep breath and reaches forward, lifting me off the ground with ease. My hand goes to his bare torso, and I see a smear of red coating the fine layer of hair over his chest.

  “What?” I pull my hand back and notice the liquid coating my fingers isn’t water or sewage. It’s blood.

  “Are you hurt?” Griffin still has me pinned to his chest.

  I shake my head and swallow the bile threating to come up my throat. I glance behind me and see the red liquid pooled near the entryway, seeping into the carpet. I start to shudder, I need to get these clothes and this blood, or whatever it is, off me.

  “Oh God, I sat in it, it’s all over me!” I shove my hands against Griffin, but he doesn’t budge. Unable to fight him, I reach for the button of my pants and start pushing them down my legs with him still holding me.

  “Let me go,” I whine.

  “Quinn, I’m trying to help you.” Griffin’s words are as soft as I’ve ever heard them. I stop fighting and he slowly lowers me until my toes touch the floor.

  I swallow, even though my mouth is already dry. “I think that’s blood.” I can hear the horror in my voice.

  “I know, it’s okay,” he tells me, and bends down in front of me. I feel his hand wrap around the back of my knee before he lifts my legs and pulls my shoe off from the heel.

  “That’s blood,” I say again, slowly this time. I think I’m in shock. Griffin lifts my other leg and the second shoe comes off. I can still feel the dampness on my feet that seeped into my shoes.

  I reach for Griffin’s shoulder, since he’s still kneeling in front of me. “Whose blood is that?” It finally dawns on me that it had to come from somewhere. “Is there a body back there?” I curl my fingers into his flesh.

  “No, no, Quinn.” Griffin stands up and lifts his palms like he might cup my face but stops short, the blood on his hands keeping him from touching me.

  “Are you sure? That’s a lot of blood.” I stare into his eyes.

  “I’m positive. Let me help you get cleaned up.” Griffin pushes my pants the rest of the way down my legs.

  “Where did it come from?”

  “Step out, there you go. Come with me.” Griffin sticks his head out the door and looks both ways. He reaches for my hand, uncaring that I’m covered in blood, and pulls me out into the hall. My bare feet make sounds on the floor, but at least there’s no carpet here.

  Griffin opens the door to his room, and I remember seeing him standing here shirtless. “Where’s Letty?” I look around.

  “No clue. Shower?” Griffin continues to drag me down the hall. I note his place is much larger than mine, but most of the lights are off and he’s walking so fast I nearly have to run to keep up, so I don’t get a good look around.

  We pass through a dark room before we enter another. Griffin flips on the light switch. Even in my state, a take a moment to appreciate the space. Everything is black, from the floor all the way up to the high ceiling, you’d think it would be drab, but somehow it’s elegant and sophisticated.

  There’s a thick glass wall that splits the shower from the rest of the room, but it doesn’t offer any privacy. The glass is completely clear. “Do you need help?” I look over at Griffin. He’s staring at me in my shirt and panties while I’m admiring his bathroom.

  “No, I can manage.” I blink several times.

  “I’ll grab you something to put on.”

  As he turns his back, ready to go, I have the urge to stop him. I really don’t want to be alone right now, but I don’t ask him to stay. Seconds later he disappears, leaving the door open as he goes.

  I take my panties off gingerly, hating the cold scrape of fabric down the back of my legs. Pinching them between my fingers, I examine them, the green lace is stained so dark they look almost black. I shudder and toss them into the small trash bin, feeling guilty that I don’t have a bag to put them in. The shirt and bra follow the panties. I’ll never touch any of those clothes again.

  The urge to get the blood off of me surges up, and I nearly trip trying to get to the shower stall. I turn the knobs hastily and get blasted with an icy spray. It’s so cold it steals my breath, but I keep turning the dial, shivering until warm water filters into the stream. I drag my hair over my shoulder and let the now hot water cascade over my back and down my legs.

  Thoughts of disease and infection spur me to grab the opaque green soap bar seated on a small ledge. I peer around for a washcloth, but don’t see anything, so I make a rich lather with my hands and start systematically scrubbing my body, starting with my butt and the backs of my thighs.

  “Do you have everything you need?” Griffin’s voice drifts in from the other room.

  “Griffin, whose blood was that? It was all over me, should I go to the doctor, get tested?” I keep my eye on the entryway and the slight shadow on the ground he’s creating near the door.

  I hear his sigh, even over the spray of the water. “It was bagged blood, Quinn, there’s no sickness or disease in it.”

  “Somehow that doesn’t really make me feel better,” I mumble, grateful that I’m not going to catch something, but still very much disturbed.

  “Stay in as long as you like. I’ll…I’ll…just be here when you’re ready.” Hearing Griffin stammer is rather strange. He doesn’t strike me as a man who suffers from a loss of words often.

  “Thanks.” After rinsing off the soap I start washing all over again, this time from my neck down, but I still scrub my butt and thighs extra hard. When my skin is red and angry from the scouring and heat, I finally turn the knobs off, and the silence that fills the room is loud. I almost call out to Griffin to make sure he’s still here, but I don’t. Instead, I pad over to the wall and drag a thick, white towel off the bar and bring it to my nose. It smells clean, like laundry soap.

  I cover my face as the water on my body quickly cools. I’m already racked with shivers, but I ignore them and breathe in the clean scent of the towel. Tears prick my eyes, I’m overtired and emotionally drained.

  Why the hell would someone spill bagged blood all over my floor? Could it be some kind of mistake?

  “I got you this.” I turn, surprised to see Griffin’s arm in the room. I wrap the towel around me, holding my arms down at my sides to keep it in place, as a limp smile tries to form on my lips. I appreciate the effort he’s making to give me privacy.

  “Thanks.” I take the soft fabric from his hand. His rings wink in the light as he curls his fingers in.

  “Do you want me to go grab you something from your room?” he offers, as his arm disappears from the doorway.

  “Um…” I stall, not really wanting him to leave me alone, nor do I want something from over there right now. I feel like everything will be tainted—crazy, I know—but the event is still fresh.

  Releasing the towel, I adjust the shirt he gave me until I duck my head into the fabric. I drag in a greedy inhale when the soft material passes over my face. The towel was clean, but this smells like
him. A long sigh leaves my lips.

  “Quinn?”

  With the towel in my hands, I walk into the room. The shirt is long enough that it hangs down to mid-thigh. The fabric is thin, but I did a quick check in the mirror to make sure I wouldn’t be giving him the same show Letty did just a little bit ago.

  “Where should I put this?” I lift the towel.

  Griffin pulls away from the wall he was leaning against and takes a step toward me. His eyes search over me quickly, but his gaze lingers on the hem of his shirt. I curl my toes and bend my knees a little, feeling exposed, but it’s not the lack of clothes. It’s the vulnerability I’m experiencing that has me wishing I had some sort of shield to cover up with.

  I’m not sure what I should do now—call someone to clean up the room, wait until morning? I don’t think I could sleep over there right now, not with that mess and knowing someone can come and go from my room without issue, and that was before Griffin broke my doorknob.

  “I have tea.” Griffin winces a little with the offer.

  I shake my head, it’s late, I really just want to sleep. I look around for the first time and notice the room. There isn’t much light, but I can make out a larger than usual bed a few yards away. The four corner posts all reach higher than the light reveals.

  His peppery scent fills my nose and I relax my shoulders a little. I want to climb in that big bed and pull the covers over my head so I can sleep for a few days.

  “Is there…is there somewhere I can sleep for a few hours, another room?” My voice sounds a little hollow.

  “You can stay here,” Griffin says, then quickly adds, “Until we figure out what’s going on. I don’t sleep much anyway.” He drags his hand over his mouth and chin, his eyes bright.

  “I didn’t mean here. I don’t want to impose. I meant another room. Another floor. I’m not sure I’ll feel comfortable in that room anymore. Do you think Director Stone would let me switch rooms?” I’m rambling, I know I am. His offer to stay here caught me off guard, and so did how much I want to take him up on it.