by Tarah Knight
Haven smiled then stood up and covered his hands with her own. “Let me.” She slipped each button through its slot slowly revealing taunt smooth skin that she kissed as it came into view. His breathing hitched with every kiss as she took her time getting to the last button. She ran her hands across his strong shoulders pushing the fabric down his arms until it landed on the floor. Haven savored the satiny feel of his warm body as she kissed and nibbled her way across his chest then trailed more kisses on his shoulders then around his broad back. Occasionally she let a little fang slip and took a love bite here and there, he hissed and groaned so she knew he liked it. She made a full circle around him loving every inch of exposed flesh until she was face to face with him again. She picked up his hand placing her face in his palm she kissed the center then took each of his fingers into her mouth teasing the tips with tongue and fang. “Haven.” He groaned in warning. She placed her finger over his lips. “Shush… do you remember when we were at the cabin and you told me the thing that you wanted most from me?” He didn’t reply he just watched her with eyes burning with love and passion. She smiled then placed her hands on each side of his face so he would look directly into hers. “I love you Deacon Reinhold Northcross. You are truly the other half of my soul, you are everything that is good and beautiful in my life I will cherish you and honor you as my Serah for as long as God allows us to walk this earth, and for whatever lies beyond this existence. Thank you Deacon for being man enough to walk away and find the way for us to be together forever. You had asked to know the look on my face when I was looking at the man I loved, and my sweet Serah I am looking at you.” Haven watched as a single tear traced its way down Deacons strong cheek.
Not another thing existed for them for several hours, as Deacon paid homage to the wonder that was his Haven. He kissed her wounded mouth tenderly laving the cuts and bruises with his tongue until Haven moved restlessly under him. He kissed and soothed very bite mark and every wound that Barren had left upon her body. He traced his hand down the soft curve of her hip looking into her eyes when his hand cupped the sweet juncture between her thighs. Haven gasped and arched her back when he stroked through her curls into her wet heat sliding a finger across the sensitive nub that had her moaning and tossing her head back and forth on the pillows. He licked his way across her chest stopping to tease and torment her swollen breasts. He then traveled on until his tongue found that sweet spot just above her collarbone where her pulse was beating wildly calling him. Haven again ached her back begging him to take what was his he opened his mouth and with a low groan he sank his fangs into her throat as he slipped his finger into her channel.
Haven’s body exploded as she felt Deacons fangs slid into her neck at the same time his finger slid into her body. She writhed under the weight of his body as he stroked her to peak after peak then with one smooth glide he thrust through her last release filling her until she knew they were one body one soul one heart forever. He rocked over her holding her tightly to his chest as he rolled over to his back allowing Haven to take the lead as she straddled him finding her own rhythm. Their bodies melded together their sweat soaked skin sliding against each other easily. Haven looked down at Deacon as he gripped her hips while she rocked against him, never in all the times she was with Barron did he look at her like that, like she was his most precious treasure and as her release came upon her and she heard Deacons roar of satisfaction, she felt the memory of his twin wash away.
Deacon gently stroked Havens bare back as she slept soundly sprawled across him like a cat. Her gentle little snores actually sounded like a cats purr just a little bit. He grinned slightly at the thought of her reaction if he told her she snored. He would keep it their little secret. But then he frowned, when realized that Barron probably knew this about her too. How many times did he hold her in his arms like this after making love to her all night? How many times did his twin hear her cry out as she came apart in his arms? Deacon could feel the rage building as he tried to breathe through it. Haven lifted her head and peered at him with sleepy eyes. “Why are you growling? Is something wrong?” He shook his head as he smiled at the one thing he would kill his own twin for. “No, my love, I wasn’t growling, I was snoring.” He teased. “No, you were definitely growling. I was probably the one snoring.” She rolled over and stretched her arms high above her head then popped her toes as she stretched out her legs. Deacon rolled over onto his side propping his head in his hand. “So you already know you snore then?” Haven rolled her eyes. “Like your brother could keep that to himself.” She immediately realized her mistake when she felt Deacon go very still. “Oh crap! Deacon I’m sorry! I just didn’t think!” Deacon rolled back over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling of the cave trying to reign in his temper. “Its fine Haven. I will have to learn to live with the fact that he knows as much about you as I ever will.” He got up and sat on the side of the bed. “That’s not true Deacon, I mean yes, ok he knows I snore, but I know what you’re getting at here and I want you to stop it right now.” He cocked his head at her. “Just stop it? That’s a little hard to do Haven. There are certain things that no one should know about you, but me. I’m not sure how I can stop thinking about that.” Haven got up slipping on Deacons shirt as she walked over to stand in front of him. She shrugged her shoulders. “Well, I guess you should have thought about that before you left me with him then huh?” He cut his eyes up at her sharply. “You know I had no other choice Haven.” She shrugged again. “Actually I don’t know that Deacon, I don’t know what choices were available to you but let me tell you what choices were available to me when you left. None! Not a single… damn… one! I had no choice but to live with Barron, have sex with Barron, feed from Barron, I had no choice but to believe that you didn’t want me enough to stay and fight! You could have at least told me what you were doing, you could have done that much for me.” Deacon rose to his feet looking down at her. “Not three hours ago you were thanking me for being man enough to walk away and do what needed to be done so that we could be together, now you’re condemning me for the same act?” He walked away from her down the small corridor to stand next to the pool his temples throbbed with frustration. Haven came up behind him. “No. I understand that you needed to do exactly what you did Deacon. What I’m upset and hurt about is the way you did it. Why couldn’t you have told me that’s what you were doing? You could have found a way to get a message to me or something!” He turned and looked at her. “Haven, I needed you to believe that I didn’t care enough, I needed you to believe that I was done with you it was for your own protection that I did it the way that I did.” She looked up at him with tear filled eyes. “But why? Do you know how hurt I was? I felt so betrayed and… and… thrown away.” Deacon felt those tears burn like acid on his heart. He gathered her up into his arms. “Baby, tell me truthfully, do you think that if I had told you what I was doing, that I was coming back for you that you could have kept that to yourself? I know my brother well enough to know that he would have driven you insane. I knew you would most likely tell him during one of those moments, and then what? What if he had attacked you when I was too far away to reach you in time? I know I hurt you Haven, but I did it to keep you safe. Please forgive me.” He tilted her head up so he could kiss each tear from her face. “Say you forgive me, say that you understand.” He whispered against her lips. She nodded her head. “Ok, I guess I understand, but it still hurt. But I do understand. There is nothing to forgive.” He kissed her mouth gently and carefully then pulled her back into his embrace. Now they just had to see what happened with Barron. He may have found his Serah too late.
Myra opened her door slowly praying it wouldn’t creak like in all the old horror movies she loved to watch. Breathing a sigh of relief when it swung opened silently on well-oiled hinges she peered down the hallway to the left and to the right. The coast was clear she was leaving everything she had except for her blade, that she held carefully behind her back. Although it may be next to useless now t
hat she knew what she was dealing with. Where was a silver crucifix when you needed one? It was now around noon and she figured now was the best time to try to escape. All the night shifters should be dead to the world right now. She grinned slightly at her own joke, because they were dead to the world all the time, undead that is. Frowning she tried to remember where Brooklyn’s and Verlons suite was she definitely wanted to avoid it so she turned the opposite direction down the hallway. Spotting a door at the bottom of the first staircase she tried it and it opened revealing another set of stairs leading down into a dark room. Stepping quickly inside she pulled the door shut behind her realizing that a flashlight would have probably been more useful than her knife right now. Standing still at the top of the stairs she waited for her eyes to adjust. “This is brilliant Myra, real brilliant you know the monster is always in the basement!” She scolded herself. Finally she decided her eyes had adjusted all they were going to so she proceeded carefully down the stairs, trailing her fingers on the wall. Soon she felt the smooth wall turn to rough rock and dampness filled the air. “Oh yeah, nasty slimy basement… cue the boogieman.”
Holding her knife tightly in her left hand, she debated on opening it to have it ready for…whatever, but decided if she fell down the steps she would probably impale herself on it and die then the monster wouldn’t have the pleasure of eating her guts while she screamed. Her foot finally landed on the rock floor at the bottom and she could faintly make out a large rectangle shaped cage in the center of the room. Rolling her eyes she muttered. “Seriously could this place be any more predictable?” Staying a good distance from the cage she tried to see just what, if anything was being held inside. After a couple of minutes she decided it was empty or at least didn’t hold anything big enough to be of much consequence. She walked the perimeter of the room looking for another door when she stumbled against something on the floor. Losing her balance she fell and landed on something that was definitely…alive!
~Chapter Thirteen~
Myra shot off the body that was lying on the floor like she had been pulled by an invisible rope. She heard it moan softly as if it was in pain. She stood there arguing with herself internally about what she should do. The street-smart Myra said. Time to beat feet! Run like hell and DO NOT look back! That voice of wisdom had gotten her out of many dire straights. Its advice was always worth considering. But the softer less street-smart Myra was concerned of who it may be and what if they were being held captive? What if they were hurt? The street-smart side said That’s their tough luck! Shouldn’t have done whatever they did to end up down here! Nodding sharply she then started to walk away when the body moaned once more. That made her stop and considered what she knew about the unfortunate soul that was on the floor. She knew it wasn’t a child, it was too large, and it was most definitely too hard and packed with muscles to be a woman. So that left only one thing it could be. Giving her street-smart side a wave goodbye Myra knelt down next the sprawled out figure. “Hey mister? Are you ok? Are you hurt?” Running her hand up his arm gently she felt the muscles that corded along his biceps. He stirred slightly under her hand mumbling something, but she couldn’t make out what he said. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“Light the lantern… please.” A husky voice asked in a low whisper. “Lantern? Where is it?” She heard the body take a deep breath, like speaking was almost too difficult. That really set her heart to jack-hammering in her chest. “Against the far wall… to your left.” Then it paused and took another deep breath. This time his words were even fainter. “Matches… on… the table.” Myra scrambled to find the table she finally did so by ramming her knee into it. “Ouch! Crap! Ok, I got the matches!” She ran her hand along the wall until her fingers brushed against something metal. She grabbed it with both hands and set it carefully on the table. “Ok, got the lantern, just hang on… don’t die on me.” She struck the first match and in her haste she broke it. “Damn, only one match left.” She took a deep breath letting her nerves settle then carefully struck the remaining match against the side of the small box. It flared to life brightly causing her to blink rapidly to clear her vision. She quickly raised the glass globe, and held the match to the wick. “Come on… light already.” She whispered. It finally blazed to life and she replaced the globe then adjusted the flame down a little. She paused for a moment before she lifted the lantern and turned around.
Iron bands around his neck, chest, and waist staked the man down on the cold stone floor. His arms and legs were spread out and held down by the same iron bands. He was facing away from the light like it hurt his eyes. Myra placed the lantern back on the table so his face would be in a shadow. She knelt down next to him looking for any injuries. She didn’t see anything obvious. If he was wounded it was where she couldn’t see it. “Hey, are you hurt anywhere?” He rolled his head weakly and when he faced her Myra gasped in shock!
She was looking at Deacon! His face was covered in welts, but it was Deacon! “God! Deacon! What happened to you?” She ran her hands over the iron bands trying to loosen them, but they were rock solid. He looked at her with remorse filling his beautiful hazel eyes. “Sorry… so sorry Haven. Please…” Then he trailed off closing his eyes. “Hey! Hey! Stay with me Deacon… come on handsome do not die on me!” She patted his face gently and he opened his eyes once more. “Please forgive me… didn’t ever want… to hurt you.” It finally dawned on Myra that he thought he was speaking to her sister. “I’m not Haven. I’m Myra, her twin. Do you remember me?” His brows drew together as he studied her face. “Her twin?” He asked. Ok, clearly his injuries were all located inside his head. “Yes, you found me in Michigan. You saved me from the bad man and brought me back here to meet my sister Haven. Then you showed me your pretty pearly white fangs, and I threw up all over you. Come on surely you remember that?” Deacon closed his eyes and nodded his head. Relief poured through her that at least he was coming around. Or so she thought. He looked at her again. “I’m not Deacon. I’m his twin… Barron.” Then his eyes rolled back into his head.
Myra once more tugged at the bands holding his body to the floor after a few minutes she sat back in frustration. Why were they holding him here? If he was in his right mind and he really was Deacons twin then this was the man they thought she would be mated with. Well, she didn’t know about all of that! Her plan was still to escape this place but she couldn’t just leave the poor guy chained to the floor! “Think Myra think! There has to be something in here you can get him loose with.” She took the lantern and carefully searched the small room. She didn’t find the keys, not that she really expected to, but she did find the best next thing! An old paperclip! She knelt back down beside Deacon or Barron and went to work picking the locks. She bent the paperclip to just the right angle then inserted it into the chamber of the cuffs that were holding his wrists. She carefully twisted the clip to the left then to the right feeling of the tumblers right before she unlocked the cuff the voice of street smart Myra chimed in once more. Um hello??? We do remember we are unshackling a vampire right? And said vampire is probably shackled for a reason? Let’s pause for just a moment shall we? Myra stopped then she went over to the small table where she had found the matches. She tipped the table over and broke off one of the wooden legs. Then taking her knife she whittled the end down to a semi sharp point. She figured with enough motivation she could sink it into a chest, and if it came down to that she would be plenty motivated! She walked back over to Deacon/Barron and grabbed his chin shaking his head. “Hey, we need to talk before I release you. Wake up!”
The man rolled his head out of her grip and looked up at her still clearly thinking she was Haven. “Deserve to die… just leave me here… Haven.” Myra shook her head, she needed to talk with a reasonable person right now and this guy wasn’t it. She swore under her breath as she picked the lock on his right wrist. The skin under it was red and blistered. It looked infected with several large pockets of green pus. It smelled like death. She fought her gag refle
x and went on to the other wrist. She set the stake to the side within reach, although she doubted she would need it. For one, he was so weak he could hardly move and for two he thought she was Haven and there was clearly some sort of history between them. With every cuff and band that she removed she found more blistered skin filled with infection. Whatever the metal was he was obviously allergic to it. Maybe it was laced with garlic, or sprayed with holy water wasn’t vamps supposed to be allergic to those things? Whatever it was it had set up one heck of an infection. She finally removed all the restraints and looked around for something to clean his wounds with. She spotted a faucet and with nothing else to use she cupped her hands and scooped up a little water to pat on his wounds. After several trips to the sink his wrists were already looking remarkably better! She sat back and watched as new skin started to cover the open sores. Even the places she had yet to wash were repairing themselves. This more than anything else convinced her that that whoever this was, Deacon or Barron, was not human! Feeling more than a little vulnerable despite the fact that he really still hadn’t moved, Myra started getting to her feet. She had barely moved when she heard a low-pitched growl. Looking around quickly she hunted for the source of whatever was fixing to jump out at her. From the corner of the room she saw eyes green glowing eyes and they were coming her way! Grabbing the stake she stood between the still motionless man on the floor and whatever was coming toward her. As it came closer and into the light cast from the lantern Myra saw that it was Deacon, or hell she guessed it was Deacon. At this point she wasn’t even sure who she really was!
