Yvette's Haven

“Get ready, Yvette. Eddie will stay here with Haven,” Zane instructed.

“No. I’m coming with you.”

But Zane slammed the door shut before the last word had even left Haven’s throat.

“No, you’re safer here with Eddie. She can’t attack two places at once.” Yvette slid out from underneath him and searched the room for her clothes. The instant Zane had opened the door, Yvette had tensed, understandably so, but the coldness of her voice startled him nevertheless.

“I’m not letting you all go out there and fight my battles for me.”

Haven jumped out of bed after her and grabbed his jeans—well, they were probably Amaury’s, but now they were his. Yvette dressed faster than he’d ever seen a woman dress. Would he ever get over her supernatural speed? Did he care to? Nope.

“Forget your pride. It’s not about that. We’re stronger than you.”

Despite everything that had happened between them—or maybe because—he felt a twinge of hurt at her words. Could he live with the fact that Yvette was so much stronger than he was? Would there always be this power battle between them?

He combed his hand through his messy hair. Hell, when had he started to think like that? How had he landed in this … this relationship? Because that was exactly what it felt like: a relationship. He waited for the sense of claustrophobia to punch him in the gut, but nothing happened. No feeling of being trapped spread. No fear of doing the wrong thing appeared.

Only a sense that what he was doing was right, settled in his chest. “Baby, hate to break it to you, but you’re not gonna get rid of me that easily.”

Her hand on the door knob, she turned her head and tossed him a surprised look. “Who said I was trying to get rid of you?”

Haven threw on his shirt and took two steps toward her. “You put up your wall again the moment Zane came in the room. Fine. You don’t have to tell your friends what’s between us. Not yet. But you’re not gonna shut me out.” Then he took her lips in a hard kiss, asserting his claim on her. Damn it to hell, but he wanted her, a vampire.

“Now let’s go.”

Her red lips looked thoroughly bruised and even more kissable than before, and once all this was over, he’d get right back to them, but it was time to fight the witch.

Haven jerked his boots on and reached for her hand. To his surprise, she slipped her palm into his. “We’re stronger together,” he murmured.

Yvette nodded.

***

By the time they reached Gabriel’s house, the fight was over and Bess was gone.

“Shit, what happened?” Haven looked at the trail of destruction in the foyer of Gabriel’s Victorian home. Maya knelt next to Oliver, whose arm sported a long gash. Frantically, he searched the room for his brother. “Where’s Wes?”

Gabriel’s voice came from the stairs leading down to the garage. “He’s fine. I managed to lock him in the safe room downstairs before the witch could come close enough.” Gabriel appeared in the hallway. Behind him, Wesley emerged, looking no worse for wear.

Relief flooded through Haven as he hugged his brother close. Then he looked at Gabriel. “You can’t separate us again. I won’t allow it. We’re clearly not any safer if you split us up. On the contrary, she’ll have fewer of you to fight. And see what happens.” He pointed at Oliver, who was being tended by Maya.

Gabriel squared his stance. “I’ll talk to Samson. It’s his call.” He flipped his cell open and dialed. Seconds passed. Haven noticed how suddenly all the other vampires, Amaury, Zane, Thomas, Eddie, and even Yvette, went completely still. A moment later, even Haven could hear it: the call went to voicemail. Samson wasn’t picking up.

“Shit!” Amaury suddenly yelled. Panic skidded over his features. “The witch is attacking Samson’s house.” Then his face distorted in agony. “Nina! Oh God, she’s injured.”

Confused about how Amaury could know that his wife was hurt, Haven concentrated only on what he knew now: it had been a trap, a diversion. True fear coursed through him. “She’s going after Kimberly.” And it wasn’t hard to guess why: if the witch had Kimberly, Haven and Wes would come after her, simple as that. And they’d be back to square one.
Thirty-One

The door to Samson’s house was wide open. Not a good sign. Amaury ran past Haven and up the stairs as if a horde of stake-wielding madmen was chasing him. Behind him, Gabriel was shouting orders to secure the area.

“Kimberly!” Haven yelled into the house as he ran inside. Nothing moved on the first floor, so he followed Amaury’s example and rushed up the stairs. He burst into one of the bedrooms a few steps behind Amaury and skidded to a halt.