Welcome to the Haven

by Cate Dean

  He stared out at the support forest, and ran one hand through his hair. It had grown back since Mrs. Hyatt chopped it, brushing the collar of his shirt. I was glad he decided to grow it out again. I’d always loved that thick, sun streaked blonde hair, framing his model gorgeous face with— “Alex? You still with me?”

  Sam’s voice jerked me out of my hero worship. Yeah, old habit. “Here.” I tried not to blush—and there it was, the heat flushing my pale skin. “I was—I just—”

  Sam saved me by cupping my chin and kissing me. As usual, my mind went blank, and my body took over. By the time he freed my lips I forgot to be embarrassed. Sam kissing me was too right for that to even be an option. I was also relieved—it meant he wasn’t afraid to touch me. That would have been unbearable.

  He lowered his forehead to mine, whispering. “I love it when you study me like that. Like I’m the only person in the room.”

  “Good. I don’t think I can give that up.”

  His laughter wrapped around me, and for a minute I forgot everything but the feel of his hand on my face, the intensity of those grey-blue eyes looking into mine. Then someone loudly cleared their throat, and reality crashed back in.

  Sam kissed me one last time, then turned us around. Jake leaned against the building, a grin on his face.

  “Glad to see you feeling better, cousin.”

  “Shut up, Jake.” Sam said it without any anger. Another good sign. He looked down at me. “I want you to go home, and rest that ankle.”

  “Okay.” My ankle was aching badly now, screaming at me for the mall run. And climbing the ladder down here. Twice.

  “Until I know I didn’t do this, you’re getting nowhere near me.”

  “Sam—”

  “I won’t have you hurt, Alex. Not again. Are we clear?”

  “Yeah.” I knew better than to argue. Sam would just walk away from me if I did decide to show up. I’d had enough of that to last a lifetime.

  After one more kiss, Sam walked with me around the building, and out to the ladder leading up to town. It was still strange not stepping through a shield, but having Elias and his temperamental presence gone was a relief.

  “You’re not going home alone,” he said.

  “Misty’s up top, playing watchdog.”

  A smile flashed across his face, and my heart skipped. “I wouldn’t want to try and get around her, not when she’s in friend protect mode. Call me when you get home.”

  He kissed me again, my head spinning by the time he let me go. I watched him walk back to the haven, giving myself time to recover before I attempted the ladder.

  Misty leaned against the black Mercedes, arms crossed, looking as fierce as any guard dog. She straightened when she saw me limping toward her.

  “Alex! Let me help.” She ran across the dead yard, leaping over the piles of leaves and trash. We were going to have to start strategically cleaning this place, or pretty soon we’d be climbing over piles to get to the entrance. Once she reached my side, she wrapped an arm around my waist and we moved forward. “The ankle’s not cooperating?”

  “Cold weather, too much running, not enough recovery time. It’s my fault—I haven’t let it heal fully, and then I expect to be able to dance around like it’s perfectly fine.”

  “Okay, then—you get a lecture instead of sympathy.”

  She raised her eyebrows and I laughed, appreciating the effort to cheer me up. I was also grateful she didn’t bombard me with questions, though I was waiting for it. Misty didn’t disappoint; the second we were settled in the car she started in on me.

  “Was Sam there? What did he say? He’s not playing the blame game again, is he? We’ll have to set him straight if he thinks he—”

  “Misty.”

  “Sorry.” She glanced over at me while making a left turn. I held on, trying not to visualize a fiery death. Again. It happened pretty much every time I was in the car with her. She swerved into the right lane, missing the car in front of us by inches. “I’m worried about him, and about you.”

  “Yeah. I’m hoping Simon can help with that.”

  “You do know this doesn’t get you out of the dance.”

  I sighed. “We’ll have to take this a day at a time. Sam might not be ready by then, and I won’t force him into a situation when he feels out of control, not for a stupid dance.”

  “You really go all out to avoid something, don’t you?”

  I opened my mouth, ready to defend, and saw the amusement flash in her eyes. She was starting to pick up my sarcastic humor. Not sure that was a good thing.

  “We can—plan for the best case scenario,” I said.

  “And hope for the worst? Sorry—you left yourself wide open for that one.”

  When did I become the straight man?

  “I just hope it all goes away,” I said. “Because Simon finds the truth.” And that truth had to be that Sam wasn’t the killer. It had to be.

  Misty sobered, her speed dropping with her mood. “You got it in one, Alex. Sam so doesn’t need this, not now.”

  Not with the necklace, and the power it gave him to control gone, she didn’t say. I wanted to go home, crawl into bed, and try not to think about it. By the time Misty turned on to my street I was exhausted.

  Adrenaline burned it away when I saw Detective Sampson standing in my driveway.

  6

  I braced myself and stepped out of the car.

  “Hello, Alex.” He smiled at me, but it didn’t reach his dark brown eyes. His smiles never did, which made me wonder just how much bad he’d seen in his job. “I have a few questions.”

  He always had a few questions. The non-answers and half-truths I gave him put me at the top of his keep an eye on list.

  I sighed, resigned to more evasion. “Can we go inside? I need to sit.”

  His smile faded. “Of course.” He took my arm after a closer look. I must have the “Yes, I feel like crap” glow. “Miss Corwin—”

  “I have to get home.” She shouted out the window while she backed into the street, without even looking. “Dad’s expecting me!”

  Mention of her father did the trick. Detective Sampson let her go, and guided me up the porch stairs and to the door. “I want you to sit once we’re inside, and tell me where I can get you something to drink.”

  “Okay.” I really didn’t want a cop roaming through my house unattended, but all the emotions of the day were grinding right into my side. Once he lowered me to the sofa, I was ready to collapse. “Kitchen, behind me.”

  “Stay put.”

  I closed my eyes and obeyed him. He had to nudge me when he returned.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, taking the glass of juice.

  “I took a leap and assumed these are yours.” He sat next to me and held out my salt and vinegar chips. I wanted to hug him. Instead, I took the chips, squashed my need for affection. This man had badgered and poked at my family since November. I should hate him for it. I didn’t, because I understood he was doing his job. “I’m afraid these questions are more serious than usual. There’s been a murder.”

  I froze. He couldn’t know—only people connected to the haven knew about Leo—

  “—hear me, Alex?”

  “Sorry. I was—shocked. Who—who was the victim?”

  “That’s the reason I’m here. It was a classmate of yours. Matt Kinski.”

  I closed my eyes, pain tearing through me. Matt—funny, smart Matt. The only jock in computer class, and one of the few jocks who treated everyone equally.

  The energy Diana saw around Sam was Matt.

  “You’re sure?” I whispered.

  “Yes, Alex. I am sorry, but I need to know what you know about him. You were in several classes together.”

  “We weren’t—friends.” Oh, God—Sam was going to be heartbroken. They were friends—best friends since first grade. “More like-minded geeks. He was my partner in computer class.”

  Detective Samson leaned forward. “Computers? Are you any
good?”

  Uh oh. “Enough to do what I need.” Not going down that road. I still kept expecting men in black suits to show up on my porch for hacking into police and fire department records last fall. “When was he—when did it happen?”

  “Sometime this morning.” He leaned back, and pulled out his pocket sized notebook. “Where were you earlier today?”

  “What?” That question shocked some strength back. “I was at the mall, with my friend. You don’t think—”

  “No, Alex. But I do need to clear anyone who knew Matt. A simple answer to a simple question. You were at the mall with . . .”

  “Misty.”

  “And I assume other people saw you there. People who could corroborate.”

  Oh, my God. Corroborate? I just fell into an episode of a cop show.

  “Yes. A lot of people. I think everyone in the mall knew Misty.”

  He laughed, and to my surprise, the amusement flashed in his eyes. Just for a second, but long enough for me to see it. “She does have a way of charming whoever she meets.”

  That’s Misty—which is why I’m still surprised that we’re friends. Charming is not a word used to describe me. And what little patience I did possess was quickly marching out the door.

  “Detective—unless I sprouted wings and flew out from the mall, I’m not the killer you’re looking for.”

  “Please call me Joe. I think we know each other well enough now to be on a first name basis.” He was right about the knowing each other. I’ve seen more of him over the last few months than I ever wanted. Almost as much as Sam—and that’s saying something, since I tried to spend every free second with him. “Now that we’ve established your alibi,” he smiled, a grim smile that left me cold. I never wanted to be on the other side of an interrogation table from him. He’d yank the confession out of me with one of those smiles. “I have a few follow up questions. They might help me track Matt’s movements before his death.”

  His death. God—now it was sinking in. And if the cause of death was anything like Leo’s—okay, not going down that road. “I’ll tell you what I can. How did he—” I gripped the edge of the sofa, braced myself. “How was he killed?”

  “I’d rather you didn’t know.”

  “And I’d rather not answer any more questions.”

  Detective Sampson cursed under his breath—with quite admirable variety. Then he told me. “Matt was mauled and bitten. I’d say it looked like a wolf attack, except for the fact that he was killed in a neighborhood home.”

  “Where?”

  He raised his eyebrows, but he answered me. Probably because it would be public as soon as the news hit. “In the old McGinty house.” Oh, God—now I knew they were linked. No one went near the McGinty house, especially with Sam’s family spreading quiet rumors about it. “It didn’t scare you, did it, Alex? Hearing how he was killed.”

  I wanted to tell him not a lot scared me these days, but I just shook my head.

  The front door opened, and I knew before I saw that it was Mom, by the look on Detective Sampson’s face. He jumped to his feet, putting space between himself and me.

  “Mrs. Finch—”

  “What are you doing in my house? Are you interrogating my daughter again, without one of her parents present? I thought my last chat with your captain was enough to—”

  “Mom.” I pushed to my feet. As much as I enjoyed watching him flinch, he didn’t earn this particular tongue lashing. “I invited Detective Sampson in. Matt Kinski is dead.”

  “Oh, sweetheart.” She dropped her floral tote on the floor and strode over to me, wrapping me in a fierce hug. Ever since I was stabbed, Mom has been much more physical with me. I liked it, but not in front of him. “Are you all right? You weren’t—there?”

  “No. I was at the mall with Misty when it happened. Detective Sampson wanted to know if I could help at all, since Matt and I are—were—acquainted.” Oh, that hurt. Funny, carefree Matt was gone.

  I clung to Mom, tears stinging my eyes. Another result of me nearly dying; my emotions are deadly close to the surface, and not easy to control. I so didn’t want to cry in front of the detective.

  Thankfully, Mom read my imminent breakdown. “Detective Sampson, I believe your interview is over.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I am sorry for your loss, Alex. Everyone I talked to told me Matt was a fine young man.” I felt his big, warm hand on my shoulder for a second. “I’ll find who did this, no matter who they are. Mrs. Finch.”

  I didn’t let go until I heard the door close behind him.

  “Sweetheart.” Mom cradled my face. “Is Sam—”

  “No. No, Mom. He hasn’t changed since last fall.” That I knew of. The loss of the necklace blocking his Fenris side was recent, and he came so close in the sewer tunnels, when we were with Zach. “Besides, he was in the haven, surrounded by residents.” I hoped. “Matt was—killed aboveground.”

  “I’m so sorry. Can I get you anything? Have you eaten yet?”

  “I just want to go upstairs for a while.”

  Mom kissed my forehead, a cover for checking my temperature. She’s transparent, but I love her for it, for all the care. “Go on up. I’ll make a tray, so you can eat if you’re hungry.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” I limped to the stairs, my ankle not happy.

  “And Margaret.” Uh oh, my first name. My real first name. She hadn’t used it for a while. “If Sam or anyone in the haven was part of this, you’re not going back there.”

  “Mom—”

  “No argument. Up you go.”

  I wanted to stomp, but my ankle already hurt, so I limped upstairs and flopped on my bed, all the decorative pillows scattering at the impact. I left them, well aware that Mom would give me the evil designer eye when she saw them all over the floor instead of neatly piled on my bed. Really, the only reason I let her do it was because I got to pick out the pillows. Soft, squishy pillows—and no pink in the bunch. Believe me, she tried to sneak that color in—more than once.

  Before I forgot, I pulled out my phone and tapped in Sam’s number. It went straight to voicemail, which meant he was with a resident. He always put his phone on vibrate when he talked to them.

  I left a message, set my phone on the bedside table, and stretched out. As soon as my temper faded, I’d get up, fire up Red, and do some mindless surfing. Anything to keep from thinking about what Mom said.

  Sam and the haven were my life. There was no way I’d give up either of them without a fight.

  ~ ~ ~

  I never did see Mom’s reaction to my pillow mess. I woke up hours later, my night light on, and the tray sitting on my desk.

  I limped over to my chair and turned on Red. I felt like it had been years since I spent any time on my do-anything-I-want laptop. Red and I used to be each other’s only company.

  “That’s going to change,” I muttered. At least for the present, until Sam lifted the ban on me.

  I pulled my Monster Files folder and the guide out of my drawer. It had been too long, and I had a couple updates for the guide. I opened it to the Side Effects section, and found the entry for the Devil.

  She finally confessed that she had been the one who attacked Sam’s mom, Evelyn, when she was cornered in the old cabin outside town. So far, Evelyn had no visible effects from the attack, except for the scars. She even spent time with the Devil, which I thought was incredibly brave. She told me it was her way of letting the Devil know there was no blame, and no hard feelings.

  I read my earlier entry, made just after Jake was attacked in the sewers under the local public gardens.

  First attack, and the victim has survived it. I will update if this changes.

  Using my favorite pen, I added to it.

  Update: first victim still alive and kicking. Same with victim number two. The Devil is now an important part of this haven, and has earned the respect of the residents.

  There—that would take care of anyone asking questions. Sam had plans to copy and reprint
this version, so all the notes his dad made, and the ones I added, will be there for everyone involved with the haven to read.

  We had enough misunderstandings the first time around.

  I also updated my entry next to Fenris Wolf.

  Second victim has changed, ten years after being bitten. Third victim was not bitten by a Fenris – see entry for The Devil.

  The identity of the Fenris who bit them is still not known.

  It hurt to write that, more than I expected. I deliberately kept names out, but anyone acquainted with the haven would know as soon as they read the entries. As for who did this to Sam and Jake—I doubted we’d ever find that out. I had a feeling that Fenris died in the basement fire, along with other haven residents.

  Sam’s dad claimed that no other victim survived a Fenris attack, but someone obviously did. Sam and Jake were proof of that.

  I picked up the sandwich on my tray, and paper rustled. I found a folded note next to the plate, and my heart skipped when I recognized the handwriting. It was from Dad. I braced myself, then opened it.

  Alex – come see me when you wake up. I’ll be in my office most of the night.

  Dad

  I so didn’t want to have the conversation I knew we were going to have. But if I ignored it, I knew it would be worse when he did finally catch up with me. I put my guide and folder away, closed Red, and limped to the door, grabbing the bag of salt and vinegar chips on the way.

  Dad was hunched over his desk, scrutinizing a set of blueprints. I rustled the bag, to let him know I was there. We’ve all been a little jumpy since Halloween.

  He looked up, and held out his hand. “Alex.”

  I took it, and he pulled me in until I sat on his lap. “I’m okay, Dad.”

  “I know you are, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I just need to hold on to you every once in a while.”