Hero's Haven Page 7

  “Good.” Drake looked relieved. Then he glanced over his shoulder. “I have to go,” he whispered. “Here’s my email address if you ever want to talk.” He rattled it off, and the screen went dark.

  Hope pulled the comforter back up as the three of them snuggled down in her bed.

  Libby yanked her hair out of the ponytails and threw the bands across the room. “Do you think he wants Haven to be safe?”

  “No,” Pax said.

  “Yes,” Hope said, punching Pax in the arm. “I told you we can trust him. Him and me are going to bring peace to the Realm and the Kurjans someday. That has to be why we’re meeting in dream worlds. Or at least, why we used to.” She had to get that green book back, though.

  Pax shook his head. “Enemies are enemies because they’re enemies.” He played with a string on the comforter. “If Ulric’s bubble broke, then maybe it broke all the bubbles? If the dream worlds are like bubbles, that is. I don’t understand any of it, really.”

  Neither did Hope. Not yet, anyway. “If Ulric is back, then so is Quade, and we’d know about that.” She’d heard all about Quade by listening to the grown-ups when Ronan had returned to Earth and everyone learned about the Seven. Two of her uncles, Garrett and Logan, were now part of the Seven. Was Quade back? If so, why hadn’t Fate told Hope? “I’m so tired of Fate not telling me enough,” she muttered.

  Libby cracked her knuckles. “At least now you can Snapchat or email Drake if you want.”

  Yeah, but that was boring human stuff. “I guess.”

  “Is Fate a person?” Libby asked.

  Hope shrugged. “I don’t think so. She’s more an imaginary creature who just visits me in dreams sometimes. I think she’s in charge of the prophets. Or of talkin’ to us.”

  “Or you’re just psychic and your brain makes your visions easier to understand by pretending that Fate is a lady who talks to you,” Pax said sleepily. “That’s probably more likely.”

  Maybe. Hope’s eyelids started to get heavy.

  Libby giggled. “I hope we don’t get in trouble for this sleepover. I kinda like sneaking around.”

  Pax snorted. “Don’t be dumb.”

  Libby leaned over Hope and smacked Pax in the arm. “I’m not dumb.”

  “I know,” Pax said, rubbing his arm. “I’m sorry. But think about it.”

  “What?” Hope asked.

  Pax yawned. “Your daddy is the leader of the whole demon nation, and your mama is the smartest female I’ve ever met except for mine before she died.”

  “Yeah, so?” Hope asked.

  Pax stretched. “They know exactly where we are and what we’re doing right now. I’m sure your mama has already called Libby’s and tole her that you’re staying the night. They know everything.”

  That was probably true. But their parents didn’t know everything. Hope let her eyelids close and wished she could enter the dream world again. There was trouble coming, and nobody saw it, even her. She felt it in those quick seconds between being awake and being asleep.

  The end of the dream world was just the beginning.

  Chapter Ten

  It had to be close to dawn, and still Quade could not get Haven to go to sleep. She said she’d slept while he hunted, but dark circles bruised the skin beneath her eyes.

  Stubborn female. He refocused on his task. Laptops were truly amazing creations. He used his index fingers to type in more letters for a search, but nothing on his family appeared. They could not find anything else on the little girl Hope, either. The story she’d written was intriguing and probably dangerous. The child sounded like a psychic, and he had never trusted any of that ilk.

  Haven was much quicker finding the darn letters, so he’d had her type for a while until she’d started yawning more than typing. Now she sprawled on the bed, watching that television. How odd that people now watched a box for entertainment.

  He glanced over at a man giving a rose to a woman in the television. “Roses are nice.”

  “Yeah.” Haven glanced at the clock and back. “This is a rerun from last week, and I didn’t see it. I didn’t know they’d show it twice.” She looked up. “You haven’t slept. Do you want the bed?”

  “No.” He felt restless at the thought of being in that bed with her and not touching, but their bodies required sleep to stay strong. Eating two deer earlier had given him additional strength, and he was finding it increasingly difficult to stay away from Haven with the bed so near. In addition, the idea of the Internet was running through his brain, and he was not understanding how it all worked.

  One of the women on the television started crying because she did not get a rose.

  Haven sighed. “I liked her and thought she’d win.”

  “It’s a game?” Quade turned more fully to the screen, attempting to use contractions and sound modern.

  “Kind of. It’s dating in the social media age. All of the women show up and then at the end he picks one.” Her voice was sleepy and arousing all at once.

  Quade rubbed his now scruffy jaw. “Their fathers don’t have oxen?”

  Haven’s lip curved. “Oxen? As in the guy with the most oxen gets his daughter off his hands?”

  Man, she was cute when amused. He found himself wishing, for the first time in his entire life, that he was a humorous male instead of a killer. “Well, yes. With humans, anyway.”

  Her lips pressed together and she cleared her throat. “Then, no. Their fathers don’t have oxen, so the women have to go on television and pray they get a rose.”

  “Humph.” He studied the lovely woman on the bed. If he had any flowers, he’d shower her with them. “Why don’t they pick their own roses?”

  “Amen, buddy,” she said, stretching. The material of her shirt pulled tight across her full chest, outlining very nice breasts.

  He shut his eyes and then turned back to the laptop. “At some point, we need to explore your gifts,” he said. It was his duty to train her to survive, since nobody else had.

  She swallowed audibly. “I can’t control them. Sometimes I just wander other worlds while I sleep.”

  A disturbance in the air outside captured his attention. His heart rate accelerated, and he sprang for the bags. “Something is coming.” Grabbing her hand, he ran to the door and opened it to the snowstorm and darkness.

  She kept his hand while slipping into her boots and peering outside. “I don’t see anything.”

  Neither did he. He shoved his foot in the boots and led her to the vehicle. “I can’t explain.” But he could sense the danger. Warning vibrated against his skin, leaving the same kind of signature as a predator running across land used to in the world he’d left behind.

  A light cut down from the sky.

  He reeled back, shoving the female behind him. The chop, chop, chop pounded through the blizzard.

  “It’s a helicopter,” she yelled from behind him. Pings echoed, and propellants hit the Jeep. She screamed. “They’re shooting at us. Get in the Jeep.”

  He turned and scooped her up, opening the door and tossing her in before sitting and twisting the key as he’d seen her do. He slammed the door and pressed down hard on the longer pedal, speeding out of the lot. “Those were not arrows,” he snapped, overcorrecting the wheel when he slid onto the main road. “What are they shooting?”

  “Bullets from guns. Modern weapons. They’re projectiles that burst apart in the human body. In all bodies.” She frantically clutched the seat belt to secure it, looked over at him, and then began to undo hers.

  “No.” He held up a hand and sped up, even though visibility was at zero. “Keep on your belt.” In case he had to jump out and fight, he couldn’t be restrained. “How are they shooting from the sky?”

  She hit her head back against the seat several times. “Ugh. You’ve been gone for so long.”

  At least she was
finally believing him.

  She gasped, looking at her arm. “I got shot.”

  Everything in him grew still. He looked over to see blood blooming from her upper arm. “Heal that.”

  “Heal that?” She looked at him, her eyes wide.

  He nodded. “Now. It looks like a cut. Imagine it healing.”

  She winced but looked down at her arm. Slowly, it closed. “Holy crap,” she muttered, gazing up at him, her pupils wide. “It’s all true. Everything. I’m not human.”

  Finally.

  More bullets impacted the road ahead, and he swung to the side, narrowly missing a large chunk of ice. “Yes. You have much to learn, but trust me, you will not be harmed.” The world hadn’t changed enough for him to allow her to suffer if he could prevent it. The horrible weather was actually a blessing. He craned his head and looked up to see a craft hovering above them, swinging in the storm. “It’s a Jeep in the air. Flying.” What the hell? How in the world?

  “Yes. Close enough. Those are enemies, and they have better firepower and advantage than we do,” she said, sounding like a soldier.

  A different rhythm set in from the opposite direction, and more lights shone down.

  “Shite,” he muttered. “There are two air Jeeps.”

  “Helicopters,” she corrected, her hand braced against the dash. “We can’t outrun them on this deserted road, Quade. It’s impossible.”

  The lights picked out the Jeep, but no more bullets came from the second helicopter. The sound of explosions echoed all around them now. Were the helicopters fighting with each other? Quade settled into battle mode and drove off the road and down the snowbanks toward trees lining a winding river.

  “What are you doing?” Haven bellowed, reaching up and grabbing a handle above her window.

  “Getting to safety.” The Jeep flew into the air, and he twisted the wheel to avoid trees, going as deep into the forest as he could. Finally, he hit the brakes and slid several yards, slamming up against a sturdy pine. “Grab only what you need. Right now.”

  The fight grew louder behind them.

  She unlocked the belt, yanked her purse over her head, and donned the backpack. “We’ll have to go deeper into the forest and away from the river. Hopefully, they won’t be able to land anywhere in this storm.”

  He jumped out, grasped her arm, and swung her onto his back. “Hold on.” Now, finally, they were on his battlefield.

  * * * *

  This couldn’t be happening. Haven wrapped her arms around Quade’s neck and clamped her thighs against his hips, holding on with every ounce of strength she had. He ducked his head and ran so fast, even the trees became a blur. If she’d ever needed more proof that he wasn’t human, he gave it to her right there and then. No wonder he’d caught two deer with his bare hands earlier.

  The world around her lightened as dawn finally broke with snow falling softly now. Yet the wind picked up, almost gleefully.

  Ice and snow slashed her face, so she ducked and pressed her nose against his neck, protecting herself. His speed increased, if that was somehow possible. Water and more ice splashed up, and she looked down to see the river. He was running full bore through an icy river. “Trees,” she whispered. They needed cover.

  “Soon. Trying to mask our scent just in case.” He ran for minutes more and then finally jumped out of the river and into the trees, moving so fast that branches dropped behind them.

  Her arms and legs began to ache, but she held on tighter. If he could take the pain of running through huge snowbanks among trees, she could handle muscle distress. The cold grabbed her, even though his body was like a heater. She closed her eyes and let him carry her away.

  A howl echoed through the forest.

  His words came clearly to her ear. “Damn it.” Ducking his head, he ran faster. Branches cracked against his chest, but he paid no heed. Snow burst all around them from his rough steps. His sudden skid to a stop had her crying out against his neck.

  She lifted her head.

  He swung her around and set her against a tree, his head swiveling in every direction. “He’s circled around.” Quade’s body vibrated and an aura of threat all but poured off him.

  She gulped, unable to breathe, trying to peer through the blistering snow. “Who?”

  A figure stepped out from between two trees, naked and panting. She blinked several times. “Pierce?” This was where he finally caught up to her? And he was naked?

  He smiled, revealing abnormally long canines. “It has been too long, Haven. I’ve been hunting for you forever.” His eyes gleamed a translucent copper through the snow. “The TV picture of you gave me a starting place, and once I caught your scent, it was finally my chance.”

  The sound of bullets from the helicopters came closer, and she shook her head. “You couldn’t have jumped from one of those and caught us.” What was he? She pressed against Quade’s side. “I don’t understand.” None of this made sense. Quade shoved her back behind him.

  “You have one opportunity to walk out of here,” Quade growled. “Turn and leave. Now.”

  Pierce’s smile widened. “Oh, vampire. I don’t know you and I don’t care if you carry the Kayrs marking. I’ll give you one opportunity. Leave the demoness and don’t look back.”

  “You know,” Quade said, almost conversationally, “I’m getting real tired of nobody knowing who I am. It’s enough to give a male issues.”

  Haven’s mouth dropped open. “You’re joking? Now?”

  Rapid fire sounded above them, and chunks of hard snow fell from treetops. Quade angled away from her, his body one long line of intense threat, his red flannel covered with ice, snow, and sticks. He was looking for an opening.

  Maybe she could help him, since Pierce’s gaze hadn’t left her. So much satisfaction colored his face that nausea made her dizzy. She pressed against the tree. “Pierce? How did you know I’m not human?” They had to get out of there, but she needed answers. “Was it a coincidence we met?”

  “Of course not. Your parents hired me to find you,” he returned, seemingly undisturbed at being naked in the storm. “Then when I met you, I knew you were for me. Of course, they’ll still pay me to bring you back first.”

  “Why?” Her voice shook.

  He shrugged and began to crouch. “You are your father’s life work, I believe. The man truly believes he has to rid you of a demon.” His chuckle wafted steam through the falling snow. “Ironic, no? What else are you, anyway? I’ve been dying to know.”

  Her voice wouldn’t work. Was her being part Fae some kind of anomaly? She attuned herself to Quade, noting every subtle movement. “Can’t you tell what I am, Pierce?” she asked. “Surely, if I were meant for you, you’d know.” Could she keep his attention?

  “Not true.” Suddenly, Pierce switched focus. “If you make a move, vampire, I’ll shred you.” When he lifted a hand, claws slid out of his fingers as if he were anime on a screen.

  “Hybrid,” Quade corrected. “I’m a vampire-demon mix. We eat felines for supper.”

  Haven jerked, and her throat closed. Claws. Real ones. “Wh-what are you and why are you naked?”

  Then everything happened at once. Quade charged and Pierce dropped to all fours and changed into a cougar. A full-fledged, bigger than normal animal. He leaped at Quade, his claws swiping.

  Haven screamed, her body going ice cold. She looked frantically for a weapon, but the two were already grappling across the ground, biting and clawing. Quade caught the cat beneath the jaw and flung it toward a tree. Pierce, if it was still Pierce, impacted and bounced off. The tree cracked all the way up and then fell in the other direction, landing hard and throwing up yards of snow.

  Pierce pivoted and leaped at Quade, clawing down his neck. Blood sprayed across the white ground.

  Haven shoved her way through the thick snow, trying to reach him
.

  More bullets sounded from above, and she looked up, catching her breath. As if on the same course, both helicopters lowered to just above the tree line. The storm tossed them around, and Mother Nature howled. They fired on each other, and one pitched dangerously.

  Then the other copter burst forward, and they impacted each other with a horrible crunch of metal on metal. Fire blew out of the first one. Metal and debris rained down. A piece hit Pierce in the shoulder and knocked him to the ground. Blood burst into the air. Steam rose.

  Quade hauled her against his chest and started to run, fast and hard, through the trees. She yelped as her stomach lurched. “Let me down.” Blood flowed from wounds across his neck and torso, covering her coat. “Quade. You’re injured,” she yelled, trying to struggle.

  “Quiet,” he barked, his body partially folded over hers as he ran even faster. An explosion rocked the trees behind them, and metal slammed down to the ground. “Just hold on.”

  She did so, having absolutely no choice. It occurred to her, more clearly than ever before, that the most dangerous thing out there, the deadliest anywhere, was the male she was trusting with her life. And he wasn’t giving her a choice in that. Not by a long shot.

  Chapter Eleven

  Quade ran well into the morning hours, holding his mate, trying to stem the blood flowing from his neck. The wild game he’d eaten earlier certainly helped, and the female’s fear focused him as nothing else could have. She shivered, even in his arms. “We need shelter,” he muttered. He’d crossed his own path several times, trying to shake the shifter in case he was strong enough to follow.

  She pointed to a building in the far distance. “That’s an abandoned barn. We can get inside and look at your wounds, at least.”

  He wasn’t pleased that his neck still bled, and soon he’d need to eat again. At least the storm was gathering more force, making it difficult to follow them. Ducking his head against the cutting wind, he ran across frozen ground to a dilapidated building with crumbling wood covered in ice. He gently slid Haven between two boards and followed, instantly grateful to be out of the wind.