by Tarah Knight
Brooklyn smiled. “Of the two Deacon is probably the most misunderstood.” She sat down next to Haven and was quiet for a few moments. “I will tell something that Deacon told me in confidence. I normally would never betray a confidence, but I feel this is an exception that I need to make. Deacon was always more of a homebody than Barron. He was closer to their parents and lived at home until well past the age that most of us stay. I’m not saying that he is or was, a mama’s boy, he was simply content to stay where he was. He didn’t have the burning need that Barron had to see what lay beyond the next hill or around the next bend. That’s why when the tragedy happened he felt it so deeply.”
“The Northcross family lived on an estate just outside of Budapest. The people of the town knew what they were, but they didn’t fear them. The family was peaceful. They were respectful of the humans when they fed, never killing or frightening them. They helped the poor and gave freely of their time and their wealth as they saw need. The people of Budapest nearly worshipped the family, for they protected them from outside raiders. However that changed when an outside vampire showed up and started killing the villagers. No one saw him that lived to tell anyone that it was not the Northcrosses. No matter how much they denied or was horrified by it, the family was burned out. Deacon was not there when it happened. He had chosen that time to take Barron up on his offer to see some of the world. When he returned it was to find the estate in blackened ruins still smoldering with his parents trapped inside.
Haven gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. “That’s so terrible! I don’t even know what to say. Poor Deacon!”
Brooklyn smiled sadly. “I haven’t even got to the bad part yet. Deacon went to work trying to dig his parents out. He burned his hands nearly to the point that they couldn’t regenerate. If you look closely you will see they still bare the scars. When he unearthed his parents his father was already gone. He was burned nearly beyond recognition. He had protected their mother with his own body from the flames. When Deacon reached his mother she was barely alive. She begged Deacon to take her head so she wouldn’t starve to death. She vowed she wouldn’t want to live without her Serah, even if she could. Deacon honored her final wish.”
Haven stopped her. “I don’t understand. Why couldn’t they leave the house? I saw both Deacon and Barron just disappear into thin air, you as well. What had them trapped there?”
“The only thing that held them there was their love for the twins. The villagers agreed that being the boys were away they could not have been the ones committing the crimes. So if the parents agreed to die they would spare Deacon and Barron as long as they lived somewhere else. Of course that may have been an empty promise. But it was a chance their parents were willingly to take.”
“That doesn’t make sense! They had lived there for so long with no problems, why couldn’t the villagers see that it had to be someone else besides the Northcross family? Didn’t they think that the brothers would want revenge for the murder of their parents?”
“The villagers didn’t think there were anymore like the Northcross family, and to answer your final question, they soon realized their mistake. Deacon did indeed extract his revenge. So great was his pain and rage that Barron felt it from where ever he was at the time. But by the time he got there it was too late. Every man, woman and child was dead. Deacon was crazed with bloodlust. Barron had to cage him for years until he regained his sanity. That’s why Deacon keeps himself under such a tight leash. He fears what will happen if he loses control. He no longer trusts himself. I tell you this so you will be able to understand why Deacon appears stoic at times. Haven, I believe that unless something happens to clearly indicate which brother is your true Serah that you will have to choose. I want you to be able to do that fully knowing and understanding each man in his own right. In all honesty both would make you a good mate. Both would love, honor and protect you at all costs. They are both honorable men. The question will come down to which one will win your heart?”
Haven sighed looking up at the clear night sky. “You know my biggest complaint in all of this, has been about me not having a choice. I didn’t have a choice about being turned or being someone’s Serah. But I’m starting to think that in this maybe not having a choice would have been easier. Brooklyn, how do I choose? How do I decide which man is right for me? Before you told me a little about them I would have said it was Deacon, but now I can see the good in Barron as well. The way he took care of his brother reminds me of how Deacon took care of me. Then the absolute horror of what Deacon went through, yet he stands now as a rational being. The strength and fortitude he must possess is astounding! I truly don’t know!” Brooklyn patted her knee. “I cannot imagine being in your place right now. However I do have somewhat of a suggestion. You need to spend time alone with both men. I would advise against feeding directly from the flesh or engaging in physical consummation with either until you know in your heart which one is your Serah. I’ll leave you alone now. Let me know what you decide to do my dear.” She picked up the empty goblet then she too, poofed out of sight, leaving Haven alone with a heavy mind and an even heavier heart.
Several evenings later Haven approached Brooklyn and Verlon as they sat chatting in the moon room, a vamps version of a sunroom. Brooklyn smiled warmly as she entered the room. “Good evening sweetling, would you like to join us?” She gestured to a nearby chair and Haven sat down.
“I have made my decision.” She announced suddenly. Brooklyn’s eyebrows rose swiftly. “Truly? You have decided who is your Serah?”
Haven shook her head. “Oh no, not at all! I’ve decided to go with your suggestion and spend time with both. I was just wondering how to go about it. Should we spend time here or perhaps go somewhere else?”
Verlon spoke up. “If I may make a suggestion? Perhaps you should leave the location up to the men. It is their future at stake as well. Perhaps you should allow them to chose the place where they feel they will be best represented?”
Brooklyn clapped then laughed. “Of course darling! I, for one, think that is an excellent idea! We have forgotten that it is three lives at risk here, not just Havens. Thank you my love for reminding us.”
Haven nodded. “I agree. I should let each man choose our destination. It’s only fair really. Now who do I choose to go first?” Then she laughed shaking her head. “Seems like I’m overrun with choices now doesn’t it? I’m finding them to be overrated. Perhaps we should draw names from a hat or maybe I could think of a number between one and ten?”
“None of that will be necessary. I will allow Barron to go first.” Deacon stepped into the room bowing slighting toward Brooklyn while giving Verlon a nod of his head. But his eyes were fixed firmly on Haven. “Please forgive my intrusion, but I do agree with Verlon’s suggestion as I feel Barron will. I will make the decision easy by allowing my brother first opportunity.”
“Ah, brother that is very noble of you, however I feel that being you did indeed find her first you should have the first opportunity.” Barron stepped into the room from the opened French doors leading out onto the patio. The brothers stood facing each other a challenge clearly thrown down. Haven rolled her eyes then went to get paper from the den muttering under her breath about stubborn pig-headed men. When she came back she held out her hands to both men.
“Ok, at the exact same time I want each of you to pick a piece paper from my hand. I can’t deal with any more macho guy crap. Now pick!” They each reached and picked up a small slip of paper. Barron opened his first then crushed it in his hand. Deacon opened his and stood there staring at it before he looked up at Haven. “It appears that I will go first.”
The next evening Deacon showed up right at dusk in a sleek 1953 corvette. Haven was impressed. She didn’t think he would even own a car. It was long and low and as black as midnight. She trailed her fingers over the glossy paint job as he loaded her bags in the truck. Verlon gave him a long list of rules that he insisted be followed to the letter. Barron didn’
t show up, which did, and didn’t surprise Haven. She could really see him going either way.
“Alright Deacon you have seven full days and nights to spend with Haven. Remember no feeding from the flesh and no consummating the relationship. If you do not have her returned at the specified time I will come looking for you and you know I will find you.” Verlon frowned down at Deacon from his towering height. Deacon simply nodded then opened the door for Haven. She slid onto the soft as butter black leather and watched as Brooklyn and Verlon waved as they pulled away. They were silent for several long minutes with Haven racking her brain trying to come up with something to say. She finally cleared her throat and just opened her mouth.
“So why did you both want to go last?” The question came out of nowhere. But now that she asked it she really wanted to know.
“It was all about strategy. Whoever went last could perhaps learn from the others mistakes and have an advantage.” Haven studied his profile as they drove. The headlights from the oncoming cars made his eyes glow like a cats. Then the absurd picture of Deacon with whiskers and a tail popped into her mind and she giggled. The harder she tried to stop the worse it became! When he turned to look at her she howled in laughter holding her sides and wiping tears as they streamed from her eyes. “I’m sorry!” She finally gasped out. She finally pulled herself together enough to sit up in the seat.
“Would you like to share what you found so amusing?” Deacon asked. Haven shook her head hard!
“No, not really. Trust me, you don’t want to know.” He continued to stare at her for a long moment then he turned back to the road. Haven thought about what Brooklyn had shared with her, the tragedy that Deacon had faced and overcame. But she wondered if he truly had overcome it? Was the murder of your father and the death of your mother by your own hand something that one could truly ever hope to overcome? How could anyone remain sane after such an event? According to the story he did not although to look at him now you would not guess his history, his past. He would cast glances her way and she would catch glimpses of vulnerability beneath the strength that he wore so easily.
“Deacon? If this has never happened before, two men bonding with the same woman, why do you think it is happening now?” He reached up and rubbed his face hard before he turned to her.
“I have lain awake for days pondering this question Haven, I have only one answer. I believe that you are a twin yourself. Perhaps your sister died in the womb, or after birth. But to me this is the only answer that makes any kind of sense. Twins share such a tight bond it’s the only bond that is even comparable of that between Serah’s. Now the question remains does my Serah live or does his?”
“If that is really what happened, and I agree it would make sense, my twin must have died in the womb unknown to my mother. She would have told me if she had been still born. I will admit that I feel more of a connection to you, but we have shared more than Barron and I have. You saved my life you came to me first. I don’t know if that means anything or not. Deacon I understand that it is not just my life at stake here, my happiness. Please know that I will give both of you the same consideration and opportunity to win my heart, or help me decide, or whatever it is that I need to do.” She watched as he swallowed then nodded as he once more gave her a quick look.
Several hours later they pull up at a mountain cabin. It was nestled deep in the pine forest. The small structure looked almost like it had been birth from the mountain itself. Made of logs that appeared to be hand cut and fastened together by old-fashioned pegs the cabin was sitting on a granite foundation that had to be cut from the surrounding cliffs. Haven smiled then sighed in relief at the peace the cabin seemed to be offering. She quickly opened the door of the car and stepped out breathing deep of the cool mountain air. It was so much fresher than the stifling hot air of south Texas. She looked to the east and could see the sky was starting to turn a pale shade pink and she knew daylight was upon them. “Its beautiful up here.” Deacon smiled slightly as he gathered up her bags.
“Thank you, I have owned this land since before the pilgrims arrived here.” That made Haven stop in her tracks. She knew Deacon was old, but that seriously brought it home for her.
“Good Lord, Deacon, the things you must have witness in your lifetime! I must seem like an infant to you.” He dropped her bags by her feet then reached and tilted her face upward, his eyes searching her face. He put her hand on his chest over his thundering heart. “No, infant could make me ache the way that you do Haven. I want to know everything you think or feel. I want to know your favorite color and the color you hate. I want to know what makes you smile or frown. I want to know your favorite memory and your deepest heartache. I want to know your favorite flower, favorite perfume, the darkest secret you’ve never revealed to anyone. I want to know what makes you catch your breath or brings a tear to your eye. But more than all of that I want to know the look on your face when you look upon the man that you love, and I pray that you are looking at me when I see it.” Haven trembled as he brushed his thumb over her sensitive bottom lip, sending tingles all the way through her body she could feel the pull of the bond screaming at her to lean forward to capture his lips with her own and kiss that frown right off of them. She knew without a doubt that Deacon felt it too, his breathing had turned ragged as her own and his eyes had started to glow. He leaned down placing feather light kisses on her forehead, her cheek before he slowly made his way to her left ear where he whispered something gruffly to her in his native tongue. Then he picked up her bags and walked into the cabin.
Haven let out a trembling breath as she leaned back against the car. Her knees were now too weak to support her. She was shaking in need from head to toe with a slow burn erupting low in her tummy, and the man had barely touched her! “Oh damn them to hell, these fated bonds!” She whispered before she followed Deacon into the cabin thankful she had thought to pack plenty of panties!
~Chapter Seven~
The interior of the cabin was as charming and rustic as the outside. A large stone fireplace was center stage in the one room structure. Off to the left of the fireplace was a massive copper tub that clearly was for bathing. With no walls to separate it from the rest of the room she felt herself turn pink at the idea of bathing in front of Deacon, she had a feeling she wouldn’t end up in it alone. She glanced at him and sure enough he was already picturing her in the tub. She felt the burn start up in her tummy again. He quickly turned his head and went back outside to get the rest of their bags. After he had brought them all in Haven noticed he had one medium sized bag to her four large bags. She looked up meeting his amused gaze. “One thing that hasn’t changed in seven hundred years is the amount of stuff women need.” He placed all of her bags on the bed, on the only bed in the corner of the room.
“Um, Deacon, I couldn’t help but notice that there is only one bed. I don’t think that sleeping together in the literal sense of the word would be a wise decision, do you?” He walked over to a small closet and pulled out an old army cot. “This is where I’ll be sleeping.” The cot looked about a foot too short and nearly that too narrow to accommodate Deacons large frame. Haven frowned.
“Let me take the cot, it’s too small for you. I think your mama tried to grow redwood trees instead of men. You are both the size of small mountains.” Before the words were out of her mouth he was shaking his head.
“No, I have slept on it many times. I will be fine. You take the bed.”
“But…”
“End of discussion Haven.” The tone of his voice old her he wouldn’t be swayed on this. “Fine then if want to sleep curled up like a pretzel who am I to deny you such pleasure.” She turned to unpack her clothing. This was going to be a long week!
After she had unpacked and looked around the cabin some more she started getting sleepy. It was now after eight in the morning so it was getting to be her bedtime. She was also kind of hungry, but she wouldn’t have mentioned that under threat of a trip to a tanning bed. So she went to
the small bathroom to change into her pajamas. Only it wasn’t really a bathroom, it only held a sink and mirror with a medicine cabinet. Curious about what a male vamp would keep in his bathroom cabinet she opened it up and then shrieked at the top of her lungs!
Deacon came busting through the door. “Haven! What is it? Are you hurt?” She turned and pointed toward the cabinet to the biggest hairiest spider she had ever seen! It was bigger than her hand! “Kill it! Oh my God go get a gun!” Haven flattened herself against the wall, jerking Deacon over in front of her to hide behind his big frame she shuddered at the sight. She felt vibrations through his back and looked up to see him laughing! She slapped at his shoulders. “Stop laughing and get rid of that… that… spider-zilla!” He turned around and smiled at her. “Hey, its ok… this is Lucy, she won’t hurt you.”
Haven looked at him in shock! “You named it?” He shrugged then walked over to the cabinet and held out his hand. “Deacon, don’t! Its probably poisonous!” Haven warned. Then “Lucy” patted at his hand with her front two legs for a moment before she crawled up his hand. “Oh yuck! Double yuck! Deacon Reinhold Northcross, I swear by all that is holy if you take one step in my direction with that creature this trip is over!”
He looked at her with concern. “Lucy truly frightens you?” Haven nodded. “Uh, yeah, kind of thought the blood curdling scream and the order to kill it would have clued you in on that. Please get rid of her.” He continued to hold the dreadful thing even stroking the center of its leathery looking back. The spider seemed to enjoy Deacons affections for it sat still except for its two front legs that would stroke his hand. They were petting each other! Haven suppressed another shudder. “I have a phobia ok? I have only one and you are currently petting it like a Labrador retriever! I can’t stay here with it in the cabin.” Then a more horrifying thought crossed her mind! “I bet there are more isn’t there? She probably has a husband and nine million baby Lucy’s! Oh no. No, no, no… time to leave.”
