Yvette's Haven

by Tina Folsom

  “Yes she did, as a matter of fact, but I have no idea what she means by that.”

  “I think you’ll have to tap into something to access your powers. Maybe that’s why she feels confident that you can’t access the power yourself. Perhaps she was testing you.”

  “But if I don’t know what the seat of my power is, then how would she?”

  “Maybe she doesn’t need to know it. If she wants to steal your powers, and at this point we have to assume that’s why she brought the three of you together, then maybe she doesn’t need to know. What if she can steal it without that knowledge?”

  Haven let the idea take root in his mind. Could the witch really have succeeded in finding Katie when he’d been searching without success all his life? And if she had, if Kimberly was truly Katie, was it true what Yvette suspected? Were the three of them witches with powers yet untapped?

  “How would we know for sure? It’s not like we can do a blood test here and run our DNA.” As much as Haven wanted to believe that they’d finally found Katie, he couldn’t allow himself to get his hopes up only to have them come crashing down again.

  He directed an encouraging smile at Kimberly, who met his look with round eyes. “I would love for Yvette to be right. I would love for you to be our sister, but there’s no proof, just coincidences and assumptions. I need more than that.”

  Kimberly nodded, disappointment etched into her features. “I understand. It would be nice to have a family. I guess it’s just too much to ask.” She wrapped her arms around her waist, and he recognized her need to be held and comforted. But he couldn’t cross the distance between them and take her into his arms. For all he knew, he was just a stranger, one who’d kidnapped her. As a brother, he could hug her and tell her that everything would be all right. As a stranger, he had no business doing so.

  Haven looked back at Yvette, the strain tearing at his strength. “I’m sorry, but I have to be sure.”

  “There’s a way to make sure.” Yvette’s eyes shifted between him, Wes, and Kimberly.

  Intrigued, he took a step closer. “How?”

  She locked eyes with him before her lips parted. “I would need to taste the blood of all three of you.”

  Wesley’s reaction was almost instantaneous. “No fucking way!”

  Exactly Haven’s sentiment, but for a very different reason. Yvette wanted to bite his brother, sink her fangs into him and make him feel the same kind of arousal he’d felt when she’d bitten him? “Over my dead body!”

  Yvette rolled her eyes at him as if she thought he was some little kid who was throwing a temper tantrum. Did she not understand the seriousness of the situation here? She couldn’t just go around and turn his brother into a pussy-whipped idiot. Was that her intention? To make them both drool over her so they wouldn’t give her any more resistance?

  Closing the distance between them, Haven faced her, their bodies almost touching. Yvette didn’t back away, and he knew she wouldn’t. He knew her that well already. She would use all her female wiles to tempt him and then do the same to his brother. And that was one thing he couldn’t allow. And for the first time it wasn’t because he wanted to protect his brother. No, he wanted to make sure his brother didn’t touch her. Just like he wanted no other man to touch her. Yeah, that’s how screwed up he was. He wanted the vampire in their midst and would fight any man who trespassed on his territory—and that included his brother.

  ***

  Yvette noticed the predatory glint in Haven’s eyes. She knew what it meant: he was going to fight her on this issue. Had his pea-sized, macho-man brain still not grasped the fact that she wasn’t going to hurt Wesley or Kimberly even if she bit them? Not that she had any intention of doing so. There was no need for her to sink her fangs into either of them. A prick of their thumbs would produce sufficient blood for her to taste and compare to Haven’s taste.

  Blood of siblings had a similar texture, taste, and scent. It was as foolproof as a DNA test. And once they had established that her assumption was right and that Kimberly was indeed their long-lost sister, then they could go about trying to get out of this place. Maybe with their latent witch powers they could break through the wards.

  And maybe then, Yvette would finally be rid of them all. Or at least of Haven, who still looked at her like she’d just swallowed his pet hamster. Was he contemplating how to punish her for not telling him about the sexual side effects of feeding?

  Yvette didn’t like how close he stood. There wasn’t even a foot of space between them. Had the man learned nothing during their earlier encounter? Why else would he stand so close when he had to know that all this accomplished was getting her all hot and bothered and in the mood to press him against the wall and sink her fangs into his delicious neck while she freed his cock and impaled herself on it?

  The heat inside her body bubbled to the surface in a warning not to let her mind wander in that direction. Too late. Soon her body would boil over like an unwatched pot of milk and burn its surroundings. And there was nothing she could do about it. It was as inevitable as a runaway truck sailing down a steep slope.

  “Listen, all I need is a few drops.”

  “Your fangs are getting nowhere near my brother’s neck,” Haven hissed.

  How could one human man be so stubborn? “I don’t even need to—”

  “I said NO! Can’t you get that into your head? Don’t you think it’s sufficient that you turned my head? Now you want to do the same to my brother?”

  Had he just said “turned his head”? She must have misunderstood.

  “I won’t allow it. It’s enough that I can’t think clearly anymore because of what you’ve done to me. You’ll have to kill me first before I let you do the same to Wes.”

  What she’d done to him? “You think I’m controlling you because I bit you? There are no lasting aftereffects from a bite. Everything’s temporary. Whatever you felt because of it is long gone.” Yvette didn’t allow the smile that formed inside her to break to the surface. If he still felt an attraction for her then … “Whatever you feel is your own doing.”

  Haven took a step back as if hit by a heavy object. His eyes filled with disbelief, and his mouth opened in protest. Only one word came over his lips. “Shit!”

  “So if you’ll step aside, I’d like to prick Kimberly’s finger to test her blood.” Yvette looked around his heavy frame, her eyes finding the girl who stood watching their heated exchange. “Is that okay with you, Kimberly? It’ll just be a prick like a little blood test at the doctor’s office.”

  Kimberly shrugged. “Sure. If it helps.”

  Yvette ignored Haven, who still stood motionless in the middle of the room and went around him. Let him think on what she’d told him. Besides, she didn’t need his help right now. She could still taste his blood and would have no trouble comparing it to Kimberly’s and Wesley’s.

  When she reached the girl, Wesley pushed in front of her. “Me first.”

  Yvette raised an eyebrow. How had the pup suddenly gotten so eager? Her questioning look seemed to prompt a response.

  “If you hurt me, I won’t let you touch Kimberly.”

  Perfect, another man who wanted to rescue the damsel in distress. This was getting increasingly tiring. “Fine.”

  Sixteen

  “I’ve never scried for a vampire before,” Francine claimed in response to Gabriel’s question.

  Zane looked at the woman—no, make that witch. Fuck how he despised them. They were devious and not to be trusted. He’d yet to meet a witch who fought fair. All they did was use their potions and spells to trick people and overpower them. But Francine, the witch who’d helped both Amaury and Gabriel on previous occasions, had become somewhat of a hanger-on to their group. None of his colleagues seemed to mind her presence, but Zane’s nostrils stung with the sickly sweet smell of witchcraft, and he avoided her whenever he could.

  Outwardly, Francine looked entirely normal, even human, as she sat there on Samson’s sofa, a lar
ge tote bag slung loosely over her shoulder, her hand clutching it as if she didn’t trust them not to rip whatever treasures she had in there from her grasp. As if anybody wanted to touch her witchy trinkets. It was better to stay away from things he knew he had no defenses against.

  “Try it anyway,” Gabriel now instructed. “It can’t hurt.” After a short pause he added, “Can it?”

  Francine shook her head. “Of course not. All I’m doing is trying to find her location, but I need something that will help me find her. Something that belongs to her.”

  “Like a piece of clothing?” Gabriel asked.

  “Or some hair?” Zane interrupted, drawing Francine’s gaze onto him. Her eyes skidded over him, almost as if she couldn’t stand looking at him. The dislike was clearly mutual.

  “The hair should work.”

  Zane stood and went to retrieve the bag with Yvette’s hair from the kitchen. Maybe it would come in handy after all and it hadn’t been a complete waste of time to bring it. By the time he returned to the living room, Francine had spread a map of San Francisco over the coffee table.

  He handed her the bag, careful not to touch her in the process. The last thing he wanted was a witch’s stench on him.

  Francine peered into the bag. “Is that all Yvette’s?”

  “Yes.” Zane kept his conversation with her to a minimum. There was no need to make small talk with a witch.

  “Do I want to know why there’s so much of it?” Francine looked away from him and glanced at Gabriel. But before his boss had a chance the reply, Zane interrupted.

  “No. Get on with it.”

  Gabriel’s reprimanding glare barely registered as Zane concentrated on watching the witch’s movement. It was never a good idea to leave an enemy out of his sight.

  Francine took a strand of Yvette’s dark hair and pressed it against a crystal, then used a string to tie the two items together, leaving the string longer on one end so the crystal’s weight hung heavily on one end of it. It looked almost like a mason’s plumb line.

  She adjusted in her seat, moving forward on the couch to bend over the map. Her arm stretched out, holding the string with the crystal and Yvette’s hair. Then she started swinging it in a slow circle while she chanted softly.

  Zane honed in on the words, but they were gibberish to him. For all he knew, the woman could be turning them into toads while they were sitting around like a captive audience. How Gabriel could trust a woman like her, he couldn’t understand. No witch could be trusted.

  Tense minutes passed as the crystal swung wildly over the entire map of San Francisco, yet it didn’t descend onto any specific place. When Francine looked up from her task and gave a shrug, Zane already knew the answer.

  “Sorry, but I can’t find her.”

  Zane rose, his frustration forcing him to move, to expend physical energy. He paced.

  “It was worth a try,” Gabriel said, his voice just as disappointed as Zane felt.

  “It’s probably got something to do with the fact that she’s a vampire. Their auras are different. I don’t think the crystal can pick it up. Look at the positive side: at least I’ll never be able to find you guys if you don’t want to be found,” she joked.

  “Excuse me if I’m not roaring with laughter,” Zane hissed.

  “Zane, please.” Gabriel gave him a shake of his head. “We’re all under stress. But that doesn’t mean we have to forget our manners.”

  He was relieved from answering when the door opened behind him and Samson walked in, a sheet of paper in his hand.

  “Got it.” He handed the sheet to Gabriel. Then he briefly smiled at the witch. “Hey, Francine. Good to see you.”

  “Perfect,” Gabriel proclaimed, looking at the piece of paper.

  “Did I get him right?” Samson asked.

  Gabriel nodded. Then he lifted the sheet for all of them to see. “Meet Yvette’s attacker.”

  Zane looked at the drawing Samson had created. He’d always known that Samson was a fantastic painter and sketcher, but he’d outdone himself with the drawing of the man who graced the sheet of paper now. And his photographic memory had clearly helped him in his task.

  The man’s face had uneven features, piercing blue eyes, dark hair, and a strong jaw line. His lips were full, his nose straight, and all in all he had a rugged look about him. Not classically handsome, but not unattractive either.

  “How did you do that?”

  Samson smiled. “After Gabriel dove into the driver’s memories, he planted them in my mind, so I was able to see him. Then I could draw him.”

  When Zane looked back toward the paper, he caught Francine’s shocked stare, her eyes glued to the picture in Gabriel’s hands.

  “Francine.” She looked at him when he called out her name, and he knew in that instant that she recognized the face. “Who is he?”

  All eyes flew to the witch, whose lips trembled. “He looks so much like his late father,” she whispered almost to herself.

  “Francine,” Gabriel prompted. “Tell us who this is.”

  She swallowed, letting a few more seconds pass, before she answered, “That’s Haven, Jennifer’s son. I didn’t know he was back.”

  ***

  “And why should we believe you?” Wesley asked.

  Yvette’s “taste test” had been positive. Kimberly was Katie. She knew it with one-hundred-percent certainty, but the brothers were still skeptical. “I have no reason to lie. There’s nothing in it for me.”

  “Hmm.” Wesley looked at his brother. Haven glanced at Kimberly, clearly torn between his doubts and wanting to believe.

  Of course Haven wouldn’t believe a vampire. Why would he? He had a low enough opinion of her. Frustration spread in Yvette. Why did she bother to try to help them? She had to be psycho to ask for another smack in the face. “Fine!” Yvette bit out. Then she raised her voice. “Witch! WITCH! Get the fuck in here! NOW!”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Kimberly flinch and cover her ears with her hands.

  Yvette’s screaming had the desired effect. A few moments later, the door opened. The witch remained on the other side of the threshold, her face distorted in anger.

  “What do you want?” She glared first at Yvette, then at the brothers. “You idiots still haven’t killed her?! Maybe it’s time I did the job myself!”

  “A question first, if I may?” Yvette asked, feigning politeness. “Is Kimberly Haven’s and Wesley’s sister?”

  First a flash of surprise crossed the witch’s face, then a wicked smile curled around her lips. “You only just figured that out? Gee, if you’re all that slow, I guess I won’t have much to worry about.”

  Then she slammed the door shut.

  “Believe me now?” Yvette looked at the brothers. Slowly, their disbelief turned to joy, at the same time as Yvette felt disappointment rush through her. Haven believed the witch, but he hadn’t believed her. Even though she had expected it given his history with vampires, it still hurt. Deflated, she let herself fall onto the next cot and leaned against the wall.

  Yvette had never been to a family reunion—well, at least not in the last fifty years. What she witnessed now nearly brought tears to her eyes. Despite the bare walls and floor of their prison, the room couldn’t have been any warmer with the emotions that flowed freely between the three siblings.

  Yvette felt a little tingle of envy as she watched the brothers hug their younger sister and bombard her with questions about her childhood at the orphanage, her interests, and her career. They were the picture of a happy family—well, as happy as you could be in captivity.

  Kimberly’s questions for her brothers weren’t any less excited, and while Yvette tried to tune out, she couldn’t help but listen to the stories that Haven recounted about his life as a bounty hunter. Yvette wasn’t sure, but she had the feeling that he deliberately left any mention of his vampire-slaying activities out of the stories. Maybe he wanted to show his gratitude that in a weird kind of way she’d hel
ped him find his sister.

  When Kimberly laughed at one of his stories, Haven’s gaze drifted over to Yvette, and he mouthed a silent “thank you” to her. It took all her mental strength not to fall apart. She reclined on the cot and closed her eyes, escaping into darkness. What the three of them had now was more than she ever would. And as much as they deserved this happiness, it made her even more aware of her own loneliness. More than ever, she was the outcast, the one person not belonging.

  Trying not to wallow in her self-pity, she forced herself to breathe deeply and relax. They’d only been in captivity for about twelve hours, but she was certain that her colleagues were already working on finding her. However, while it was daylight outside, they wouldn’t be able to break her free, even if they’d already discovered her whereabouts. All she could do at this point was wait.

  If the Scanguards crew didn’t show up by nightfall, she’d have to consider other avenues. And the fact that her three fellow captives were witches could come in handy. Despite the fact that they didn’t seem to know about their powers or how to use them, Yvette was sure they possessed them. Somehow they would be able to tap into them.

  Then, of course there was the one thing Yvette had discovered about the witch. Bess had to be physically within the wards to hurt them or exercise her powers on them. As long as she stayed outside the wards—on the other side of the threshold—she couldn’t do anything to them. It gave her comfort. That meant, for now they were safe within these four walls.

  Yvette allowed her tense muscles to relax for the first time since she’d taken on this assignment. Kimberly would be safe with her brothers, and she knew from Haven’s recent behavior that he wouldn’t stake her either if she napped for a short while. All she needed were a few minutes.

  Kimberly’s constant chatter provided an easy background noise to drift off to. She couldn’t tell how long she was out, but it couldn’t have been long. Kimberly was still essentially telling the same story, or maybe it was a variation of it, when Yvette’s senses caught something else.