Haven

by Celia Breslin

  He stepped back with a satisfied grunt. Stella remained against the wall, a low growl trickling from her throat.

  I locked eyes with her. “We good?”

  “The wrong is now right. My mistress will be pleased with your forgiveness.”

  I nodded for lack of anything to say and motioned for my friends to follow me the last few steps to Haven’s back door. My legs shook and my heart pounded, but I made it there without mishap. I took a deep, calming breath, smacked my hand on the ID pad and punched in my personal code. The door unlocked with a small schlock and we stepped into the awaiting darkness, Stella and her pets trailing behind.

  Five

  Haven was very un-Haven-like tonight.

  First, refrigerator cold air hit me in a gust as we entered. Second, no sign of security lurked in the back hall. Third, instead of the usual continual thump of dance music, faint whispers of jazz greeted us. Lastly, the clincher of weird for me, frankincense and myrrh perfumed the air. My nose burned and my eyes watered. Images flashed through my mind.

  A massive white church, white altar, red carpet, towering gold cross, a bald priest in white and red robes. A smoking incense holder on a thick gold chain swinging back and forth over a gleaming, black coffin.

  I stumbled at the memory invasion and the room spun for a second. Mark steadied me with a hand around my elbow. “You okay?”

  I massaged my temples. “I think so.”

  My phone buzzed with a text from Adrian. where r u?

  backstage. u?

  heaven.

  k. c u soon. I’d told him to stay in our office, yet he hung out in the VIP lounge. I’d bet my stake in the club Thomas was up there, too.

  I pocketed my cell. “Adrian’s in Heaven. Let’s go.”

  The three vampires left us, disappearing faster than my eyes could track.

  The rest of us strolled onto center stage. The jazz rose from the baby grand piano at stage right, played by Alexander. My stomach flip-flopped in excitement and I bit my lower lip to suppress a giddy grin. I took a few eager steps in his direction, but halted when Mark and Ren swore and drew their guns. I followed their aim and my happiness deflated.

  The dance floor played host to a Black and White Ball gone wrong. Most of the crowd wore black bondage gear and Goth finery—cat suits, strips of leather and chains, black leather mini-dresses, tight black leather pants, corsets, waistcoats, ornate black dresses and skirts—while some sported white evening gowns and tuxedos. The clothes weren’t the problem, however. Alive or undead, fashion was just fashion.

  The people formed the problem, the living ones, anyway. For every one or two vampires, I counted one human offering up a body part. A wrist here. A neck there. Thighs, too. My attention locked onto one blonde woman in a white leather mini-dress, one shapely leg draped over the shoulder of a kneeling vampire. He suckled her thigh while another took her neck from behind. Eyes closed, lips parted, she appeared to enjoy it.

  I glanced at my friends. Faith and Kai stared in wide-eyed fascination. Mark wore his best blank face, while Ren’s gaze targeted Alexander. Neither man was a happy camper. Nor was I.

  Where was my uncle? I wasn’t walking the undead gauntlet without a fanged escort. My eyes strayed to Alexander.

  “Stay here and put away your guns,” I ordered the boys. “We’re outnumbered, so let’s try not to antagonize the hungry dinner crowd.”

  I approached Alexander, running a hand along the piano’s smooth surface. Eyes closed, his body swayed, his long fingers gliding effortlessly across the keys.

  An accomplished musician. My favorite.

  Distressed gray jeans hugged his long legs. Charcoal-colored cotton stretched across his mouth-watering shoulders, enhanced by a dragon, wings spread across his impressive pecs. My hands twitched, wanting to slip under his shirt, glide over his skin and explore the hard planes of his chest. Maybe wander lower, until I slipped my fingers in the holes ripped in his jeans to tease the peekaboo flesh of his legs.

  Down girl. Rein in the lust.

  He bobbed his head in time to his playing. Unruly brown locks of hair lay in disarray against his cheeks. His lips, slightly parted, moved as if he sung under his breath. My body vibrated with need. I pressed both palms against the piano top to keep myself from brushing the hair away from his strong face and caressing his smooth skin as my lips kissed the curve of his jaw and nibbled on his full, lower lip.

  A sigh escaped me. He opened his eyes.

  Attacked by shyness, I stared at his hands while they continued their dance on the keys. He played a familiar song, something I’d heard as a kid. Disjointed images flitted, unbidden, through my head. A grand piano, a curtain of long black hair, hands as white as the keys they struck, me as a little girl with orange wild flowers clutched in one hand while the other ran through the major scales on that same grand piano. My piano...

  The music stopped.

  The silence snapped me out of the memory. His hands rested on both sides of middle C. I stayed focused on them, afraid to look into his eyes. My heart thudded, mouth dry, palms sweaty. What about him made me feel so unlike me? So nervous?

  “Hi.” His velvet voice brushed across my hands, up my arms, down my body. I shivered and looked up. Damn. Those eyes, in his gorgeous face. I tried to take a deep breath and failed.

  “Hi.” I extended my unsteady hand. “I’m Carina.”

  “Alexander.” His hand neared mine, but Faith and Kai yanked me back from the piano.

  “Hey,” I protested, every cell demanding I go back to him, touch him.

  “Rina, don’t touch him,” Faith pleaded.

  Kai squeezed my arm. “Yeah, what she said.”

  I jerked free. “Back off, you two.”

  Faith persisted. “Don’t do it. You’re not ready.”

  “Stop talking like Thomas,” I groused.

  “But he’s right. You can’t be with him until you’re whole. It’s too dangerous. Remember what happened the last time you touched him?”

  Oh, right. The whole not-breathing-almost-dying thing. She had a point but, “I need to. I want—” I willed her psychic mojo to understand what I struggled to say.

  He’s mine.

  Faith gave me a sympathetic smile. “I know. He’s the one. But you can’t touch him. Not yet.” She touched my arm, trying to offer comfort. “Be careful.”

  Alexander observed us, expression bemused. Heat flooded my cheeks. We acted like teenagers and now I had tomato face. Wonderful. I sauntered to the piano while my hormones cartwheeled in happiness. A hot undead guy I didn’t even know yet was my one and only. Mine. It was crazy, irrational, complicated. And exactly what I wanted.

  “So.” My blush deepened.

  “So.” His full lips curved upward and a rush of need slammed into me with all the subtleness of a Mack truck.

  God, I wanted to kiss his mouth, lick his lips, take each one between my teeth and test their fullness. “You play the piano well,” I blurted to redirect my thoughts.

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you, uh, a professional?” Wow, lame.

  “I was, yes.”

  “In a band?” Not getting any better, here.

  “Yes. A solo artist.”

  “Play any other instruments?” Okay, now I sounded like a bad reporter.

  He stared at me for a long moment, causing butterflies to circle in my stomach.

  “A little guitar.”

  Neat. “Electric or acoustic?”

  He didn’t reply.

  “I play a little piano,” I offered into the silence.

  He raised an eyebrow as if encouraging me to continue, despite the fact this had to be the most awkward conversation in human or vampire history.

  “Classically trained by my uncle. Started when I was five or maybe six, until I was about thirteen and—” Then they messed with my head.

  Alexander played a classical piece.

  “Chopin. Nocturne, Opus 9, Number 2.” I recited, remembering t
he notes.

  He caressed the keys and another pair of hands superimposed over his. Long, pale fingers edged by the frilly cuffs of a black shirt. A ruby ring adorned the left hand. My breath hitched.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah, fine,” I lied. Blindsided by another memory and some surprising talent at Name That Classical Tune. No matter how benign the memories so far this evening, I didn’t enjoy their abrupt invasion of my head.

  “Why don’t you sit?”

  “No thanks.” Must not touch hot guy, must not touch hot guy. My new mantra wasn’t catchy, exactly, but whatever worked, right?

  “Afraid?” The music stopped, his hands poised over the keys.

  I shook my head. He stood in a speedy, fluid move. I sidled away, hand skimming the piano. He watched, face unreadable. I licked my suddenly dry lips. The crowd on the dance floor observed us, excitement palpable.

  “Want to talk about last night?” His question relieved a notch of the tension.

  Well, thank God one of us was brave enough to go there. That was usually me, but I wasn’t usually chatting up a sexy, mostly-dead guy who, if Faith’s prediction proved true, was my fated soul mate. “Yes, but honestly, I don’t know where to start. I’ve had a little experience with supernatural stuff, but that was intense.”

  His lips quirked, the smile tightening bits of me already aching in need. “Yeah.”

  “Does that happen a lot with you?”

  His eyes darkened, smoldering with unmistakable sexual heat. “Just with you. Only you.”

  His words flipped some invisible switch deep in my core. Heat washed over me. My awkwardness disappeared, replaced by the full force of the desire only he awakened. I wanted—no, I needed to touch him. Impossible to stay away. Why, that would be suicide. He was like oxygen, or water. Can’t live without his touch. I stalked up to him.

  “Don’t.” His soft command didn’t match the hunger in his eyes.

  “You want me to stop?” My hands shook with the desperate need to touch him.

  “Yes.” Eyes like pools of sparkling dark blue water beckoned me.

  “Liar.” I grabbed his hand, completing the connection.

  Power pulsed to life, along with pleasure, pain and wheezing.

  My knees buckled and Alexander pulled me onto the bench, clasping me to his chest as if he couldn’t resist the contact. His beating heart thundered under my ear. He has a heartbeat. Quite a random thought to have while gasping for air.

  Below us cheers and whistles erupted from the crowd, enjoying the suffocation show. The bastards.

  Mark and Ren rushed over and hauled me away while two vampires pounced on Alexander. Snarls and growls ripped the air, their fight a dizzying blur of motion. Alexander threw one attacker into the crowd. He whirled with the other in a tornado of flailing limbs. They crashed into the piano sending it gliding toward us. Mark and Ren flung us out of the way and we collided with Faith and Kai. We collapsed in an ungraceful heap eliciting laughter from the dance floor.

  The crowd-diving vampire landed near us, his face a battered, bloody mess. He growled, baring long white fangs in a freakishly wide mouth. Faith shrieked and whipped out her pepper spray, delivering a stream into the monster’s eyes. He roared and shot back out of reach, pawing at his face. Mark shot him in the chest, dead center. The vampire howled. Several more shots from both Mark and Ren and still he advanced on us. We needed better bullets.

  Faith and Kai pulled me away from the carnage. Despair gripped me. We’re going to die.

  “Enough.” Thomas’s voice reverberated throughout the room.

  A chilling silence ensued, broken only by the rasp of my feeble breathing attempts, and the sharp click of Thomas’s footsteps. He approached, accompanied by four, gigantic, undead linebackers.

  Relief flooded me. Thomas would fix my lungs.

  Instead he stalked straight to Alexander.

  “What part of do not touch her did you not comprehend?” he snarled.

  Alexander scowled.

  Thomas flicked a hand at his goons. In mere seconds, two of them enthralled, disarmed and threw Mark and Ren over their shoulders like sacks of potatoes. The other two whisked away Faith and Kai. Without their support, I headed for the ground.

  Thomas scooped me up, leapt off the stage, and rushed me through the club to Heaven. I clung to him, desperate for one little word to extinguish the inferno raging in my lungs. In the VIP lounge, he tossed me onto the couch where, not so long ago, Adrian had pleasured me. I landed in an ungraceful heap, the last bit of air blasted from my lungs. Darkness took me. A sting on my cheek brought me back.

  Thomas leaned over me, his face a mask of fury. “What part of do not touch him did you not comprehend?” Anger poured off him in chilling waves.

  “What would you have of us, sire?” A male voice rumbled.

  The four giants pushed my friends to their knees in front of the couch. My boys were stoned, vampire-style. Faith, however, remained lucid and terrified, her captor’s meaty hands squeezing her delicate shoulders.

  “Thomas Ward, you must help her,” Faith pleaded.

  Thomas harrumphed.

  My eyes burned. He’s going to let me die. He doesn’t love me at all. Maybe he’d loved the thirteen-year-old me, but he’d allow the adult me to suffocate.

  Alexander stalked into the room, a livid lion of a man. “What are you doing?”

  Thomas waved him off. “Stay out of this.”

  “She’s dying,” he snarled, emotion clear on his face.

  “Oh, now you believe?” Thomas straightened his cuffs. “You could not trust my word.”

  Guilt lined Alexander’s face. “But I held back my power this time, it should’ve—”

  “Should have what?”

  “Should’ve been fine,” he finished. “I didn’t mean to hurt her, I just—”

  Thomas stepped into him. “You forget yourself, Youngling. You think like a human, though you are vampire. You scoff at our laws, our ways, you think us old and foolish.” He pointed at me, struggling against a veil of gray threatening my vision. “Witness what happens when you disobey a direct order. You suffer little, vampire, while she suffers greatly for your foolishness.”

  Thomas’s tirade faded into white noise and my body fell into a black ocean where my lungs no longer burned and my limbs floated pain free. I’m dying.

  “Breathe, cara mia, breathe.”

  My lungs obeyed the soft command. Cool fingers feathered over my face. My eyes fluttered open.

  Thomas stared down at me with his hypnotic, green eyes. “There, much better.”

  My anger flared and I bolted upright. “You—” My fist flew at his face.

  He caught it with ease, eyes bright with amusement. “As I said, much better.”

  “Rina.” A frantic Faith reached for me.

  I glared at the huge vampire restraining her, speaking through gritted teeth. “Let her go.”

  Thomas nodded at the big guy and Faith scrambled to me. “Not over. It’s not over,” she babbled. “The door is destroyed, a mind wildfire. The darkness, it hungers. I see blood, there’s so much blood.” Faith shuddered and moaned.

  I hugged her quaking body and shot Thomas a murderous glare. “What have you done to her?”

  “I have done nothing, cara mia. Yet.”

  Foreboding frolicked in my gut.

  “Stop it, Thomas,” Alexander growled. He leaned against the bar, shooting disapproval at the other vampire. “This is wrong.”

  “Wrong? You know nothing of this, Youngling.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I know enough and this is wrong.”

  The air crackled with Thomas’s energy. “Everyone out,” he commanded, waving one arm.

  A gaggle of vampires and their human dinners rose from every couch and chair and filed out the door. The goons pulled Mark, Ren, and Kai to their feet and led them out, too. The last vampire came for Faith.

  “Back off,” I snapped at the enormous
monster. He gave me impassive gray eyes.

  “Leave us,” Thomas ordered. The vampire made a low bow and retreated. “Be gone, Alexander.”

  “No.”

  “That was not a request.” Thomas moved in a blur, reappearing before the other man.

  “No.” Alexander’s lip curled in a snarl.

  “Do not choose a battle you cannot win, Youngling.” Thomas dropped the temperature in the room and lashed out with his power.

  Alexander stumbled back, steadying himself on the bar. He straightened and stepped into Thomas, refusing to back down. Admiration warmed my chest. Sexy, brave man.

  A moan from the corner broke the tension. Adrian slumped in a chair by the overlook, head lolled on one shoulder, legs and arms splayed. He appeared drunk, but I doubted it. He wasn’t much of a drinker. Faith and I rushed over to him.

  “Adrian, can you hear me?” I pushed tangled locks of hair from his face and palmed his forehead. Cold and clammy.

  Faith checked his pulse. “Slow. Floating. Empty.”

  “Translation, girlfiend.”

  “Blood deficiency.” Her eyes strayed beyond me to the vampires.

  “You bastard,” I cursed at Thomas.

  “He’ll recover, my child,” he replied blithely, as if we spoke about the weather.

  “I’m not your child, you psychotic son of a bitch.” I sucked in a slow breath to calm down. Hate feeling helpless. “How do we help him?”

  “Vitamin B12 and a lovely steak and potato dinner,” replied a sultry, female voice.

  ~ * ~

  A woman materialized next to Adrian.

  First there was nothing, then poof, a petite blonde.

  She looked like a marble sculpture come to life. A sleeveless, silver evening gown with a deep V front draped her perfect body, accentuating her slight curves, the delicate bones of her shoulders, her milky white skin. Her long blonde hair, swept up in a high ponytail, shone like spun gold in the track lighting from the ceiling. She was radiant, incandescent. Utterly beautiful.

  “Who—how—what?” I struggled to ask too many questions at once.

  The woman stroked Adrian’s hair and observed me with stunning, blue-green eyes.