Hero's Haven Page 12

  Minutes later, she returned with several sandwiches, cash, and two burner phones from a small shop down the way. “These have Internet but not a lot of memory or minutes, so we’ll just use them if necessary.” She clicked one open and immediately found the Internet. Going to her email, she found a link and clicked on it.

  Pierce came up. “I was beginning to wonder if I should just kill her.”

  “Don’t. I’m hours out, but I’m coming,” Haven said, her stomach aching. She angled away from Quade so he couldn’t be seen.

  Pierce frowned. “Where’s the hybrid?”

  “Back in Denver,” she said. “He didn’t think saving a human was worth it, and I disagreed, so I had to take off.”

  “Well, then.” Pierce smiled. “Good to hear. If you’re not on this doorstep by nine tonight, I’ll rip pieces of your mother off one by one. No matter where you are, you can get here by then. I’ll be waiting.” He clicked off.

  She shut the phone to keep from using any more data.

  Quade’s eyebrows rose. “He did not believe you.”

  “I know,” she breathed. “But he might still think there’s a chance I’m alone.”

  “Right.” Quade reached for the bag of food and demolished two steak sandwiches in moments. “Let’s go to the knife store and buy weapons, and then we can discuss this mission and your place in it.”

  She’d wondered if he’d given up his ridiculous notion that she would not help rescue Allison. “Thanks,” she said, accepting the sandwich he offered her. “I assume you spent the night thinking that maybe somebody has to be there to get Allison out while you and Pierce fight with knives and claws.” The poor guy really needed to sleep, didn’t he? At some point? She wasn’t stupid enough to think she could fight Pierce on her own, but what if Quade needed backup? She was a scrapper and might be able to help.

  He sighed and reached for another sandwich. “No. That is not what I spent the night thinking about.”

  She blinked. No, she shouldn’t ask. She really shouldn’t. “What did you think about?”

  His gaze was deep in the afternoon light. “That we need to be more careful. When I tasted you, I wanted nothing more than to brand my mark into your flesh.”

  She coughed, even as desire uncoiled inside her at the worst possible time. “Um, I have to be willing to mate, right?”

  “You were,” he said, his confidence obviously back.

  She couldn’t find a retort because there wasn’t one. When he’d had her on that bed, almost begging, she would’ve agreed to anything. Apparently, he knew it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Knife stores were impressive places, and he had thoroughly enjoyed choosing the right weapons earlier in the day. Quade felt more centered with the large blade at his waist and a smaller one tucked into his boot. He would certainly need to gain employment to earn cash and repay Haven once he got her to safety.

  After scouting the area for an hour, he stood behind a tree staring at a pristine white house with blue shutters and a brown but still manicured lawn. The winter breeze ruffled his hair, but it was nowhere near as chilly as it had been up north. “That’s where you grew up?”

  Haven nodded, her gaze stoic as she looked at the house. More blank than stoic. “What if Pierce has a bunch of other cat shifters with him?”

  “Now you worry about that?” Quade muttered, looking down at her.

  She shrugged.

  “Lions have prides, but cougars are usually loners,” he said. Well, years ago they had been loners. Although times might change, the nature of a beast usually did not. “If this one actually works for humans, then I doubt he is affiliated with any others. Only a loner, a mercenary, would work for humans, especially on a job hunting down a female.” Or was Pierce interested in Haven for himself? “Do you understand the plan?”

  She looked up at the stars beginning to dot the darkness above them. “Yes. You go in, start fighting, and then I try to get in the back door and find Allison.”

  He didn’t like it, but she’d had a point earlier. “When I’ve found my family, there will be no missions of this type together,” he warned her. When he found his brothers, he’d have backup.

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Your face may stick like that,” he said, recalling his mother’s warning. He pressed a hand to his chest. She’d passed on, along with his father, in a war far before he underwent the Seven ritual. How he missed her, missed both of them. His longing for his brothers assailed him and the world tilted again. “Damn it.” He ground a fist into his eye.

  “What?” Haven tugged on his arm. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” He shook his head. “I get dizzy once in a while.”

  She patted his arm. “It’s probably the different atmosphere and gravity—or something scientific like that. Take several deep breaths.”

  He did so, and the world righted itself. “Okay. Come with me to the fence line.”

  She nodded, taking out a smaller knife they’d purchased for her, her face set in delicate yet firm lines. They crossed the street, and his boots gained purchase on the wet grass.

  Then hell descended faster than a whip through the air.

  A helicopter suddenly came into view, this one without any warning, and soldiers dropped from the sky on black ropes. His gaze narrowed, and he caught sight of several Cyst members, their long white braids glowing in the night. Panic and fury ripped through him.

  He grabbed Haven around the waist, pivoted, and tried to run back across the street.

  A shot was fired above his head, hitting a wooden pole with wires extending out from it. Sparks flew. He ducked, spun around, and set the female behind him. A figure, the largest one, disengaged from the rope and stood, legs braced.

  Quade blinked. Once and again. Memories grabbed him from a long-ago war. He’d fought this asshole before. “Xeno,” he muttered.

  The Cyst general smiled and his yellowed fangs glinted. “Quade Kayrs. We thought it was you but couldn’t be sure.”

  Haven peeked out from his side. “Holy shit,” she muttered.

  Anger distracted Quade, and he shoved it away; he needed to find an escape route. The remaining soldiers fanned out in perfect formation, forming a shield that made running impossible. “Let the female go, and I’ll go with you,” he offered.

  Xeno snarled. “We want the female as much as you, Kayrs. We’ll take you both, and you will lead us to Ulric. Now.”

  So the bastard hadn’t appeared yet. Quade forced a smile. “He’s dead. His entire world imploded, and I saw it happen. That’s how I was knocked back here.” He hoped that was the correct usage of the word “knocked.” The power of an oncoming fight flowed through his veins, sharpening his focus. “Things have changed if you’re working with a cougar shifter. Have the Cyst become that desperate?”

  Pierce walked out onto the porch, a gun in his hand. He looked at Quade, at the Cyst, and then the remaining soldiers. His eyes widened, and he jumped back inside.

  Xeno chuckled and motioned for one of his soldiers to take the house. “A cougar shifter? This world has not changed that much, my friend.” He shook his head, and his eyes glinted a sharp purple. “We tracked you from the female’s bank records and realized you were headed here.”

  Of course they weren’t working with a shifter. Damn it. The ATM and credit card trail had led the Cyst here so quickly? This new world made it hard to fade away—except for his family. Quade drew the knife from his waist and calculated the distance between them. If he took Xeno down fast enough, would the other soldiers attack, giving Haven a chance for freedom?

  A female scream came from within the house and then the sound of breaking furniture. The cougar would give the Cyst soldier a good fight.

  Haven turned and bunched her muscles to run for the house.

  Quade grabbed her arm and halted he
r in mid-stride. “No.”

  She struggled against him. “I have to help her.”

  Hopefully, the human was going out the back door or hiding. “You will stay here.” How could he get her to safety?

  Xeno watched them with narrowed eyes. “Apparently, the matehood isn’t going well.” He tilted his head and scented the air. “Oh. No matehood yet.” Those eyes started to glitter. “Well. Then she’s up for grabs, huh?”

  Quade didn’t like the idiom. His heart rate increased, and he took a step toward the enemy on the oddly quiet street. “You and I fight. You win, we go with you. I win, and you let the female go.” No way would they let him go free, and he knew it. He was outnumbered, but he could decapitate Xeno and at least two others before being taken to the ground. Probably. The world tilted again, but he kept his expression fierce.

  Xeno lifted a glowing green object, similar to the ones at the outdoorsman shop called guns. But those had not been green. “This fires lasers that turn to metal upon hitting flesh. I have no problem shooting you both and taking you in unconscious. Make up your mind. Pain and coming with us, or just coming with us?”

  “I’ve never seen a green gun,” Haven whispered, her voice shaking.

  Quade had no doubt the weapon would perform as promised. “How seriously does a bullet incapacitate the body?”

  “Dunno,” she whispered. “They kill humans easily, but I don’t know about you. Or apparently, me.”

  It appeared bullets would slow and harm him but not take off his head. There was only one choice. “I’ll rush him, and you run as fast as you can back to the vehicle.”

  She tugged her arm free. “I’m not leaving you.”

  “Obey me.” Ducking his head, he charged.

  Xeno fired, and a projectile shot through Quade’s upper arm. He howled in fury, running faster. Haven ran by him in a blur, heading for the house. Damn it.

  In an instant, his velocity changed.

  Vehicles sped in from both sides of the street, screeching to a stop. Doors opened and soldiers jumped out, guns firing and knives already being thrown. A body tackled him to the ground and rolled him behind one of the huge black vehicles. He punched, fighting, turning and stopping cold when his vision cleared. “Ronan.”

  His brother, aqua eyes dark, grabbed him in a hug. “You’re alive.”

  “It’s about damn time,” Quade muttered, hugging back quickly. Then he drew them both up behind the vehicle. He focused on the moment. Later there would be time to feel.

  Ronan handed him a gun and leaned around the side of the vehicle, firing rapidly. Return fire pinged off metal, ricocheting into the nearby fence.

  Quade ducked and sucked in air to run to the house.

  Ronan pivoted, stopping him with a full-body impact. “Stay the fuck behind the vehicle.”

  Quade shoved him. “My mate ran into the house.” Only silence came from the interior now, and his legs bunched with the need to run.

  Ronan shook his head. “Give me a minute to clear the way. You’ll just get shot. A lot.” His brother wore all black, and his hair was tied at the neck. He looked healthy and whole and deadly, and he matched Quade’s six and a half feet of height.

  Quade’s gaze met aqua eyes a shade lighter than his. Memories of their childhood, of their friendship, of their becoming part of the deadly Seven all ran through his mind faster than a hiccup. He clapped his brother on the shoulder. “I missed you. For now, start firing at those bastards while I run. Stop me again, and I’ll take off your head.”

  Ronan shoved him back. “Give me a minute.” He ducked and shot the gun, which released several laser bullets at once.

  Quade ducked his head and charged, running across the street toward the home. Pain lanced into his leg and arm, but when the lasers hit his chest, they bounced off uselessly. The Seven torso shield, created in blood, bone, and pain, apparently trumped current weapons.

  A bullet sliced across his neck and he dropped to the ground, rolling and coming up quickly. He clamped a hand over the blood spitting from the wound, sending healing cells there immediately. He leaped over the curb and onto the lawn while the firefight continued behind him.

  He’d just reached the porch when he was hit by a tackle from behind that sent him face first into the wooden steps. Pain exploded across his forehead, and he turned, his knife already out. The Cyst soldier sank fangs into his already damaged neck, and Quade howled, stabbing furiously with the knife. The blade bounced off the soldier’s back. He was wearing some type of armored vest.

  Switching his aim, Quade stabbed for exposed skin.

  The knife pierced beneath the Cyst’s jaw and the bastard ripped his fangs away, taking a chunk of Quade’s neck with him. He spit it out.

  Quade punched him in the eye, following up with a second punch to the nose. Taking advantage and ignoring the blood now streaming from his neck, he rolled them over and straddled the asshole, his strength superior in a way it hadn’t been centuries ago.

  He punched and punched, breaking every bone in the soldier’s face before finally plunging the knife right through the throat to embed it in the wooden porch floor. The Cyst’s eyes widened and then closed. “I’ll take your head later,” Quade muttered, stumbling to his feet, his neck open and exposed to the chilled air.

  Lowering his head, he stomped up the stairs and tried to dispel the dizziness swamping him. Blood flowed down his side from several wounds.

  With a whisper of sound echoed, Ronan stood at his side, bleeding from a wound beneath his right eye. “Fight’s over. Xeno got away, but we killed several of the others.”

  Quade nodded and kicked open the front door. He moved in with his brother at his side.

  Overturned and broken furniture littered a living room that smelled like a marsh. “What is that?” His eyes watered and he covered his nose.

  “Bleach,” Ronan said, stepping over the remains of a glass vase. “Used for cleaning. Way too much cleaning.”

  Bleach sucked. “Haven?” Quade ran to the next room, which held a table and a bunch of china, and looked around, seeing no one. Panic grabbed him around the throat tighter than the Cyst had. He moved through the next doorway to a large, sparkling kitchen. Blood covered a middle island, and Haven’s adopted mother slumped unconscious by a cupboard, her face bruised.

  Quade reached her and felt her neck. “She’s alive.” He ran out the back door, following the scent of shifter that ended at an oil spill where a vehicle had left marks in the dirt. Another quick search of the grounds came up empty, and when he returned to the kitchen, the woman was stirring but was disoriented.

  Ronan looked at him, his gaze concerned. “I need you to update me.”

  Quade leaned a hand on the counter as the world spun around him. His mate was out there somewhere, and he was bleeding out. “Tear this place apart for any hint as to where the father is.” Pierce had promised the pastor he’d deliver Haven, so that was where they’d go. “As for her?” He pointed to the woman who had failed to protect Haven. “She comes with us.”

  Ronan nodded. “We don’t have a choice. If she saw us or any immortals, we have to interrogate her and reach an agreement.”

  Quade didn’t much care what happened to the woman. He made it as far as the refrigerator before the darkness finally claimed him. His last thought before he hit the floor was that his brother was there to catch him. Then, blessed unconsciousness.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Haven had taken a blow to the head the second she’d run through the front door, but she’d seen Allison try to jump in front of her and save her. Then there was nothing. She awoke, lying on the wooden floor of a cramped room with the sound of the ocean coming from not too far away. She blinked several times and pressed a hand to the lump above her left ear. Swollen but not bleeding. Where was she? “Quade?”

  No answer.

  Her leg
s wobbling, she stood and looked around. Garden tools lined one wall, while a planting table had been pushed to the other wall. She was in a garden shed?

  Turning, she realized she’d been lying against the door. She twisted the knob, but nothing happened. Yanking, she tried to force the door open, but it was somehow secured on the other side. Probably with a padlock. Her stomach lurched and twisted, and she swallowed several times to keep the bile down. Her head hurt and her vision was still fuzzy, but she had to get out of there.

  Was Quade all right? There had been bullets flying, and he’d never been shot in the head before. The biting mark on her neck pulsed just enough to ground her.

  The ocean became louder, and the smell of soil and salt filtered around. She moved over to the garden tools and grasped a trowel and a three-tine soil rake. Keeping the weapons steady, she knocked against the walls, looking for a weakness.

  Where was Quade? Had he survived the fight outside her old home? And where was her mother?

  The door opened, and moonlight filtered in, outlining Pierce.

  She pivoted to face him. “You hit me.”

  “Was necessary.” He looked her over. “You won’t win in a fight. Put those down.”

  “No. Where are we?” The only way out was through him, so she’d have to take it. She angled the tines so she could aim for his eyes.

  “Pretty beach house owned by one of your father’s flock.” Sarcasm and amusement mixed together in the shifter’s tone.

  Figured. “Faith, Grace, or Promise?” she snapped, fully aware she was hesitating to attack.

  His sandy-colored eyebrows rose. “None of the above. Some guy name Joe, actually. He’s totally into this whole exorcism idea.”

  Her knees weakened at the thought, followed by a healthy dose of anger. “Do they know what you are?”