Yvette's Haven

Zane narrowed his eyes, then stepped back farther. Through clenched teeth, he issued only one word. “Understood.” Then we walked into the living room without another glance at Haven or Wesley.

Whatever the “team” was, clearly the bald asshole didn’t want to be removed from it. Haven’s gaze drifted back to the man who’d intervened.

“Samson Woodford,” he introduced himself and stretched out his hand.

Without thinking, Haven shook it. “Haven Montgomery.”

“I know.” Then he shook Wesley’s hand. “Yvette already filled us in.” He nodded toward the living room behind him. “Come inside.”

The elegant Victorian living room was jam-packed. Were all those people vampires? Haven counted the heads: six men and several women. His eyes searched the room.

“Kimberly!” he called out with relief as he saw her. She jumped up from the couch and threw herself into his outstretched arms. “Did they hurt you?” He held her away from him to search for any injuries, but everything looked good. By the looks of it, she’d showered and was now dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.

“We were worried,” Wes said from beside him and wrestled Kimberly from him to squeeze her tightly.

“I’m alright.” She glanced back at Haven. “They’ve been very nice to me.”

Haven nodded, then looked back at the strangers facing him. Again he searched the room: four women, but Yvette wasn’t among them. Disappointment spread. Amaury had said she’d come back. Haven looked at the hulk of a man and gave him a questioning look, but Amaury said nothing. And Haven was too proud to ask where Yvette was.

“Take a seat, please,” Samson offered and pointed at one of the couches.

“I’d rather stand.” Most of the men in the room stood. He didn’t want to have to look up to them. It was bad enough that they all looked intimidating. Big guys, all of them: one with a ponytail and gruesome scar on his cheek, a blonde one in biker gear, the evil Zane, a sunny-boy all fresh faced and innocent looking; he was probably the least intimidating of the bunch, Amaury, and Samson. The women sat: each of them beautiful in their own right. Were they all vampires? He glanced at them, trying not to be too obvious in his perusal, in case any of the vampires took issue.

When he moved his eyes from one woman to the next, they suddenly landed on a rounded shape that was oddly out of place. Holy shit, one of the women was pregnant! Heavily so. By the looks of it she was ready to pop. A pregnant vampire? Instantly his thoughts went back to Yvette and her assurance that he didn’t have to worry about pregnancy.

“I believe introductions are in order,” Samson said, his voice even as if it happened every day that he welcomed a vampire hunter into his house. “You’ve met Amaury and Zane.”

At the mention of his name, Zane simply pressed his lips together even tighter. Haven ignored him and followed Samson’s pointing hand as he introduced the remainder of his colleagues.

“Gabriel, my second in command.” The scarred guy. He nodded.

“Thomas, our IT specialist.” Ah, the biker. Who would have thought?

“Eddie, he’s our youngest.” Sunny-boy. Figured.

“Amaury’s wife Nina,” he introduced a stunning blonde.

“Gabriel’s wife Maya.” The dark beauty tossed her long hair over her shoulder and nodded.

“My wife, Delilah,” he introduced the pregnant woman. She gave him a ravishing smile.

“Excuse me if I don’t get up to shake your hand, but the baby is getting a little heavy.”

Instantly, Samson moved to her side, concern on his face. “Why don’t you lie down, sweetness? You look tired.”

She waved him off. “You fuss too much. I’m fine. But I could do with some food.”

Samson stood and called out toward another open door which lay behind the dining area. “Oliver?” A second later, a young man appeared.

“Yes, Samson?”

“Bring some food for my wife and the guests.” Then he turned. “Nina, are you hungry too?”

Haven watched the exchange with surprise. Food? What was going on here? He knew for certain that vampires didn’t eat food. If he’d ever had any doubts about it, being in close quarters with Yvette had dispelled all of those. Were they going to drink blood right in front of him and Wesley? Haven’s lips turned down in disgust.

“A sandwich would do,” Nina replied.

Haven gave her a surprised look. “Sandwich?” he echoed.

Samson looked back at him and smiled. “Excuse the oversight, but maybe I should have made it clear that not all of us are vampires.”