Haven (15 page)

He arched a sexy brow. “Do what?”

“Stay in my room every night. Must’ve been pretty boring.”

“Not at all.” His smoky eyes glinted with heat.

“Oh.” Shyness tangled my tongue. Not my usual mode, but with Alexander, my senses overloaded and I had to remember to breathe, blink, swallow, smile, nod, form a sentence, say it out loud. Like now. Now would be a good time to say something.

I finished my last drop of wine. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” His deep velvet voice skimmed across my skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He traced my hand, his touch light as dandelion fluff. I expelled a ragged breath. Warmth built between my legs and my pulse quickened. Want him. More contact, please.

A drop of blood decorated his lower lip. On impulse, I wiped it away then licked my finger clean. So good.

Alexander made a strangled sound and hauled me into his arms. “You call to me like no other,” he rasped.

His chest muscles quivered under my hands, his heartbeat a rapid staccato. From arousal or the blood he’d consumed? A little of both, I’d bet.

“You sound like the older vampires now. I thought you were young,” I teased while I vied with the vertigo spinning my head. Must not lose my dinner. Talk about a mood killer.

“I am. But it’s true. The first time I saw you—”

“At Haven,” I interjected.

“Outside of Haven, actually. It was like I’d been gutted with a sword.”

“Ouch and, c’mon,
that
was the siren call you heard?” I scoffed.

He nuzzled my forehead.

My eyes fluttered shut. That didn’t help the lightheadedness or my ability to focus on this conversation.
Breathe.
“So, you saw me outside my club,” I prompted, forcing my eyes wide.

“It was a Saturday night.” His warm breath fanned my skin. “I was at Eighteenth and Castro and you passed right in front of my car with your friends.”

He showered soft kisses on my temple, my cheek, the curve of my jaw. My core clenched, fingers curling into his solid pecs.

“I saw you walk into Haven and...” He put a smidge of space between us.

Don’t stop.
I opened my eyes. “And?”

“I double-parked my car outside your club, argued with your security about that, and then Adrian came and let me in.”

“Oh.” The wine-induced dizziness subsided. My hands roamed from his chest to his biceps. Smooth and solid, no hint of flab.
Want you to wrap them around my body while you take me from behind
.
My little fantasy expelled the air from my lungs in a loud rush. Energy pulsed from my hands, hot and bubbly. His muscles twitched in response.

“Adrian was amused I’d followed a girl into the club.” His hands curved around my waist. “Until he realized it was you. He told me who you were, but he wasn’t happy about it.”

“What did you do then?” My voice wavered, his touch devastating, distracting.

His grip tightened. “I left.”

“Why?”

“The law according to Thomas. Your club is off-limits to all non-humans, except on Sundays. You yourself are off-limits to all vampires every day. Or you were then, anyway.”

I frowned. “You’re saying my uncle forbade you to see me?” This was so Romeo and Juliet. I didn’t like it. That story never ended well.

A hand slid to my back, pressing possessively. “Yes.”

I rolled my eyes. Thomas, interfering in my life. Again. “How long did you obey?”

His eyes narrowed. “Too long. But I sensed your presence after that whenever you were nearby. You spend a lot of time in my neighborhood after dark.”

“Adrian said the exact thing to me.” I bit my lip.
Oops,
now he knew I was talking about him. I felt myself blush like a crushing teenager.

He grinned at my discomfort. “You were hard to avoid. So I stopped trying. I showed up at the museum though I knew Thomas would intercept me. But it was worth it, to have you finally
see me. I had to know.”

Talk time was over. We stared. And stared. And stared some more.

His smoky blue eyes bled to black and his power pushed at me, hot and hard, causing a response inside me, like a rumbling volcano deep in my core. My eyes widened. Was this the power my family had mentioned? No longer dormant and infinitely more intense than a little static electricity in my palms.

Alexander crushed his lips to mine. Need roared through me leaving me breathless with edgy hunger.

My hands burrowed into his thick, silky hair, holding his head as if he might try to escape. He growled his approval against my lips, his kiss growing more insistent. His tongue explored my mouth. He tasted metallic, like the blood he’d consumed. Again, I found I liked the taste. My tongue danced with his and delved into his mouth, searching for more penny metal flavor. He groaned and tightened his embrace.

I thought we’d devour each other forever, but Alexander stiffened and his head snapped up. His eyes glinted black as night, wild with lust and...aggression? He bared his teeth in a snarl, canines morphing into fangs. Long, sharp, lethal.

On instinct, I pushed against his chest to get some distance between those teeth and my neck. He ignored me, head whipping around to survey the room. A feral growl erupted from his throat and he shoved me under the table.

My cries of protest were drowned out by animalistic roars and breaking furniture. From my spot under the table, I felt around on the bench for my coat, all the while keeping an eye on the room. Dark blurs flitted back and forth, pieces of table and chair flew by...Bingo. My coat. I searched the pocket for my phone. Once in hand, I hit the button for my boys.

The fighting around me stopped. The familiar techno ring tone of Mark’s phone broke the sudden silence.
He’s here?

The table above me was tossed away. Steel hands grabbed my legs and dragged me, face down. I dropped the phone and flattened my palms on the floor, trying to resist. One hand bumped into a steak knife and I grabbed it. My assailant flipped me over and lunged. I aimed for his heart but the knife plunged into his throat.
Fine by me.

The vampire let out a strangled growl and fell back. I scooted away through the mess of broken tables and chairs. A tattooed arm peeked out from under one of the tables along with a small pool of blood. The Grill Meister was down. Where was Roland the Bartender? No sign of his bald head on the ground. I hoped that meant his help was imminent.

Mark’s phone stopped ringing. A large, limp body flew at me and I rolled to the side. The body hit the ground, just missing me. It was Mark, eyes closed, face a bloody mess.

My gut wrenched. Heart in my throat, I scrambled to him and checked his pulse. There, not strong, but there.

“I have another one over here. Want it?” asked a man with a thick British accent.

By the doorway, the vampire I’d named Biker Buzzcut dangled a limp male body by an arm. He waved it at me like it weighed no more than a bar towel.

Ren.
My throat closed on a scream. A strangled whimper escaped.

“Yes? No?” the vampire prompted.

If I said yes, would he throw my friend? If I said no, would he kill him, assuming he wasn’t already dead? I had to risk the affirmative.

“Yes.”

“Then come and get him, luv.” Biker Buzzcut opened his hand. Ren crumpled to the floor.

I climbed to my feet and stumbled through the debris, eyes on Ren.
Please be alive
. Were Faith and Kai here, too?
Please, no.
They weren’t the fighters of our group, though Kai would object to that assessment. He was good, but not as good as Mark and Ren—and look what happened to them.

“Leave her alone, Dixon,” Alexander growled.

Two vampires pinned him to the floor.

“You think you can stop me, Youngling?” Amusement colored Dixon’s voice.

“Not me. Thomas. Touch her and he’ll rip out your heart and ram it down your fucking throat.”

“Ah yes, the Warden.” Dixon targeted me with searing silver eyes and his power shoved me to my knees.

He moved in a blur of speed and reappeared in front of me. He was tall, six feet and change, skeletal under his black leather jacket and tight leather pants. He wore no shirt, just a vest held together with tiny metal chains, showing way too much of his opaque skin crisscrossed with scars and blue veins. Dark shadows hung under eyes as black as the lightning bolt tattoo on his cheek.

If I hadn’t already known he was a vampire, I would have guessed biker zombie.

“Tell me, human, do you belong to Thomas? Is he your master? Lover? No, not lover, judging from your public display with the youngling. The Warden never shares.”

“I’m no one’s property.” My body trembled with the need to flee, but his power locked me in place.

“No?”

I shook my head, unwilling to respond to his probing questions. Why did he call Thomas
The Warden
? A play on his surname? I sensed it was more.

“The Warden cares little for
humans
.” He stroked my cheek. “Yet here you are. And he called you on the phone. A phone!”

He laughed. Others did, too. The outdoor diners watched the show, disinclined to help. I didn’t like being their dinner show.

“What makes you so special, luv?” His skeletal finger traced along my collarbone.

My stomach knotted.
Enemy
. Unlike my run-in with Stella, my gut warned revealing my identity this time would worsen the situation. This evil, undead dude clearly hated my uncle.

“What’s that?” He cocked his head to one side, mocking me. “Can’t hear you, luv.”

Derisive snickers from the audience.

“Stop touching me.” I hit him with a hostile glare.

More guffaws from the room. Angry growls from Alexander, still squished to the floor.

Dixon bared his teeth, flashing major fang. “Ah, the little kitty has claws.” His face neared mine, fingers curled around my shoulder, digging in. “You want me to stop?”

Fear hammered my heart, but anger boiled my gut. Fresh out of a coma and on my first date with a hot, new guy and this monster dared ruin my evening? Hurt my friends? Hell, no. “Well, duh,” I snapped.

Surprised gasps from the audience.

Dixon grinned. “Oh indeed, you
are
special. Yes, The Warden likes his food a little spicy. As do I.” He released my shoulder and pulled back his power.

I climbed to my feet. “I’m no one’s snack.” I scanned him for a physical weakness to exploit. Eyes, nose, knees, groin. Nothing. He was old and strong in the preternatural power department, and I had no clue how to activate mine.

He circled me. “No?”

I shifted to keep him in sight. He was enjoying this chitchat. Did all vampires play with their food? If it would keep him from the neck munching, I’d keep talking while I worked on an exit strategy. Or maybe Faith would get a psychic hit and send in the super-powered cavalry.

Dixon stroked his chin. “But you are something. Human, and yet more.”

More than human. Mostly human. First Thomas and now this nut job? I’d ask Thomas about it. If I lived through this.

Dixon ceased his circling and we faced off again. I fell into fighting stance.

His blue lips curled into a cruel smile. “Let’s have a closer look at you.”

Shit
. I lashed out with a front kick. He sidestepped with supernatural speed and grabbed my arms, slamming me onto one of the few remaining unbroken tables. Pain shot through my body. I cried out.

Shouts from Alexander. A dull
whack
! Followed by silence.

For the first time in my life, I prayed.
Dear God, please don’t let him be dead. Or more dead. Or full-on dead. Or, oh, you know what I mean.

Dixon loomed over me, eyes glowing like silver moonlight, trapping me in their glare. I thrashed under his scrutiny and he tightened his grip on my arms.

He could crush my bones to dust.
Fear flared down my spine. I froze.

He nuzzled my wrists, teasing the healing pink flesh. “Tell me, kitty, who feasted on your intoxicating flesh?”

I clenched my teeth.
I will not scream for you. You’d like that too much
.

He dropped my arms and stepped back. “It was a dinner for two. The Warden, I’m sure, and?”

I scrambled off the table, resisting the urge to rub my wrists. “None of your business. And stop calling me kitty.”

Dixon raised an eyebrow. “You wish to give me your name? Of your own free will?”

No sounds from the audience this time, only a hushed anticipation.

I sensed a trap, but would play along to buy a little more survival time. “I give you nothing, vampire. What will
you
give to know me?”

Dixon stilled, an undead statue.

“What’s that?” I mocked in a bad English accent, hand to one ear. “Can’t hear you.”

Dixon’s eyes blackened, pupil swallowing silver iris. “Who are you?”

The crowd inched forward.

“Don’t get out of the graveyard much, do you?” I hedged, my bravado cracking.

“You will tell me,” Dixon threatened.

Fog flowed into the restaurant on a chill wind. It snaked around my body and drew me toward the vampire. His fangs elongated. He palmed my face. The nails were longer now, sharper and—

“Dixon, my darling,” a female voice interrupted. “What on earth are you doing to that little piece of meat?”

Eight

Stella stood in the doorway dressed in tough-girl chic. Black cat suit. Combat boots. Long black leather coat. There appeared to be two black poles sticking out of her back from some kind of holster.

Dixon rushed to her in super speed. “Stella, my dear. What a glorious surprise. What are you doing here in the States? In San Francisco?”