Hunting Haven
Chapter Twenty

Haven

Banging on the door roused me from my sleep. The sound was so unexpected that it took a moment for me to discern if I was still dreaming or not.

“Haven,” a male voice I didn’t recognize shouted. Definitely not dreaming.

I hopped out of bed and pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, not bothering with undergarments. There was absolutely no way in hell I was opening that door, anyway.

I crept down the stairs as silently as possible, my bare-footed steps muffled on the carpet. The second to last stair creaked as I placed my weight on it. I froze in my tracks before finishing my descent.

“Haven. Open up. I’m Gabe’s friend. He was in an accident. He asked me to come for you,” the man shouted as he continued to pound on the front door.

My heart fell to my toes as I began to panic. Gabe? An accident? No way.

I slid the chain into place before unlocking the deadbolt. The door opened just enough for me to see the man who’d been calling for me.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Matt. I’m one of Gabe’s hunter friends. He got into a car accident on the way home from the store. He was run off the road and it’s not looking good. Before he lost consciousness, he sent me here to get you.”

Breathing was an impossibility. How could a car accident hurt him so badly? He’d spent years fighting supernaturals. There was no way something as mundane as a car crash could take him from me. He’d be okay. He had to be okay.

“Can we go to the hospital to see him?”

He shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. “He wanted me to keep you here to protect you.”

I glared at the man, nostrils flaring as I snapped. “Let me re-fucking-phrase that. You’re going to take me to see Gabriel right now.”

He scratched the back of his neck, apprehension written all over his face. “I… suppose it’ll be okay as long as we leave before sunset.”

“Good answer,” I said as I slammed the door. Sliding on the flip-flops I’d kicked off the night before, I undid the chain and exited the house.

I didn’t bother to put on a bra or brush my teeth. Hell, I didn’t even bother to go pee. Gabe was hurt. I had to get to him. Why hadn’t I gotten up that morning? At least, I would have been by his side.

The hunter guy, Matt, had parked his car at the end of the long gravel drive. He led the way, and I followed along as if in a daze as my brain worked double time, every thought revolving on my guy.

“Do you think his tattoos will help? Or is it too severe?” I asked. The answer scared the hell out of me, but I needed to know. It was better to prepare myself before we arrived at the hospital.

“What?” he asked, sounding confused.

“His hunter tattoos,” I said slowly. I expected his face to clear, for the confusion to dissipate, but it didn’t. I took a step backward. This guy claimed to be a hunter but didn’t know about the spelled healing tattoos.

It didn’t make sense. I was sure Gabe had said all hunters got their tattoos at 18, before their first mission. Matt, if that was really his name, had to be in his mid-thirties at the very least.

My heart hammered in my chest, palms sweating as I realized my mistake. I fucked up.

Warning bells sounded in my mind as I turned to run. I should have never opened the door.

One of my flip-flops flew off as I sprinted toward the house. Gravel from the driveway dug into my heel, slicing at my feet. I couldn’t feel the pain as adrenaline coursed through my veins.

As long as I could get back into the house and lock this guy out, I’d be okay. If he lied about being a hunter, maybe he lied about Gabe too.

He had to have been lying. Gabriel would show up any minute. I refused to believe anything else.

The house was only fifteen yards away. I was so close to safety. I can make it.

I was nearly there when he hit me from behind, tackling me. I collided against the ground so hard I bounced up, my head smashing back down as I landed again. Gravel bit into my face, and bare arms as I slid down the drive.

I fought to loosen his hold on me. Arms and legs thrashing wildly as I prayed a stray hit would earn my freedom.

“Hold still, you stupid bitch.” He punched me while using the other arm and his body weight to restrain me. His fist clipped my jaw, but I continued to fight.

I’d been through a hell of a lot worse in my past. That little graze was nothing compared to how hard Jesse used to hit me.

I threw a knee, connecting with his inner thigh as I screamed with unintelligible fury. He yelped in pain, his grip going slack momentarily. I managed to scramble a few feet away before he caught my ankle and dragged me back.

Giving up was not an option. I didn’t know who this man was, where he planned to take me, or what he’d do when we got there. Being captured was not an option.

We continued to struggle. Blood dripped from my forehead into my eyes, but I still flailed crazily in an attempt to get free.

I’d been close, so close, to shaking off her hold. To save myself. I could have gotten free, but I grew too hasty.

Getting away had been my primary focus. So much so that I didn’t pay attention to my attacker’s motions. Hitting him, breaking his hold, had been my sole priority.

His fist moved too fast for me to follow. In the next instant, blinding pain exploded in my temple, and the blackness engulfed me.

***

I moved to snuggle deeper under the blankets, pulling them up to my chin as I rolled over.

“Hold still. Your body is still healing,” a familiar voice instructed.

My eyes were so dry and I was so tired, but somehow I managed to pry them open.

A long-haired man sat on the edge of my bed. An odd sense of déjà vu washed over me, but my foggy mind struggled to make sense of it.

“Relax, Margaret.”

The name made me wince as the memories came flooding back. His eyes weren’t glowing red now. They were a normal, almost honey color.

I started to salivate nervously, my heart pounding as I swallowed hard.

No. This couldn’t be happening. How the hell did he replace me again? We’d only been at the new safe house for a day. I couldn’t stop the endless stream of questions that flooded my mind. Where were I? Where was the fake hunter that knocked me out? Was Gabriel okay or had he actually been hurt?

Not wanting to push too hard to begin with, I started with questions that I thought would piss him off the least. I could always work my way up.

“Why am I here? How?” I asked, not really expecting much of an answer.

“Calm yourself, my love. Your wounds won’t mend themselves if you keep agitating them.” He spoke soothingly, as if I were a small child that he had to placate.

I pushed myself into a sitting position, trying my best to ignore how my vision spun. My stomach lurched with the motion, and I had to breathe slowly through my nose in an attempt to keep the bile down.

“Didn’t I tell you to hold still?” His voice was sharp as a whip, all of the faux-caring tone had completely evaporated.

“Why do you want me to heal? You want a healthy snack?” False bravado was my only remaining defense mechanism.

I’d had enough concussions in life to know that I suffered from one now. Even in peak physical form, I would have had no shot against a vampire, but in my current state, I was hopeless.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Margaret.” His tone was still frigid as he stood and walked to the other side of the room. He turned to face my bed, looking down his nose at me. “I’ll never understand why you always insist on testing my patience.”

This guy was fucking delusional, which came as no surprise. He definitely thought I was his dead ex-girlfriend or something.

“My name is Haven.”

He crossed the space between us in a flash. The eyes that had appeared normal had been swallowed up by an angry, luminescent red. Fangs flashed at me as he hissed angrily. “Your name is Margaret and you are mine.”

Dane had warned me of this. He said the vampire would try to turn me if he ever got his hands on me, rather than drain me. After what I’d heard about the bloodsuckers, I’d rather die than become one.

I swallowed hard before attempting to get my wish.

“My name is Haven, and actually I kind of already have a guy I’m crazy about. His name is Gabriel, and he’s going to kill you.”

His hand closed around my throat almost immediately as he hefted me into the air. My feet dangled as I struggled to breathe.

He slowly bent his elbow, bringing my body closer to him. He stopped when we were nose to nose, my toes barely able to brush against the ground.

Not that being able to stand on the floor would have helped my struggle to take in air. His palm pressed on my larynx as he glared at me, the malevolent scarlet of his irises making my skin crawl.

“You are Margaret and you are mine,” he roared in my face. Spittle flew from his lips and peppered my face.

I couldn’t argue, not with the way he clutched my throat, but I didn’t care. Black spots began to dance in my vision from the oxygen deprivation. My head throbbed so hard it felt like my brain would burst and my lungs cried for air.

It would be over soon. I closed my eyes, bringing Gabe’s face to the forefront of my mind. My own fate had been determined, but I hoped like hell that he was okay.

Just when I thought it was all over, when my consciousness had begun to fade, he let go. I collapsed at his feet, my legs too weak to catch me as I gasped for breath.

No. I had been so close.

“My blood will finish healing you soon. Once you are no longer wounded, it will be time. You’ll remember who you are once you are awakened, Margaret. And when you are strong again?”

He bared his fangs once more, his expression murderous. “I’ll punish you for leaving me.”

After that ominous warning, he turned and left the room in a blur. Gripping the edge of the bed, I pulled myself up. My legs quaked, but I somehow managed to remain upright.

I crossed to the door and tried to twist the knob. It wouldn’t budge. He’d locked it from the outside.

The room was barren, the bed the only furniture. Dull recess lighting illuminated the area.

There were no windows. There were no vents. There was no way out of this room.

I returned to the bed and sat down. It was hopeless. Tears streamed down my face as I realized I’d never get to say goodbye to Gabe. I’d never get to tell him how I felt or how sorry I was for trusting that fake hunter.

I fervently hoped that he didn’t blame himself for my capture. He had done everything he could to keep me safe. I just made a mistake and it would cost me my life.

“Get up, Margaret. It’s time,” the vampire’s harsh voice snapped. I opened my eyes and looked around. Last thing I remembered was crying. I must have fallen asleep.

“Time for what?” I asked as I sat up.

“For your awakening, of course. Your injuries are healed. I have already planned your first meal.”

He spoke with pride, all of his early rage strangely absent. His unstable moods made me think of how Dane had described vampires. He’d said they didn’t love, they just consumed and destroyed.

I understood what he meant now. This vampire had deluded himself into believing he loved Margaret, but he didn’t. He wanted to own her, to dominate her, even punish her, but not love her. Unlucky for me, she just happened to have my face. Or, I just happened to have hers, I suppose since she was already dead and gone.

He cupped the back of my neck roughly, his grip painful. I couldn’t move other than in the direction he chose. My eyes shifted around as he led me from the room and down a dark hall. I couldn’t see much, but still I hoped that I’d be able to spot a way to escape.

He pulled a keyring from his pocket as we approached another room. Once he opened the door, he pushed me inside. I stumbled but his grip on the back of my neck held firm, stopping me from falling.

He turned on a light and I gasped.

Out of all the people in the world, he was one of the last I expected to see tied up in a vampire’s lair.

“Say hello to your first meal, Margaret. I hunted him down just for you,” the vampire whispered almost tenderly.

“My fucking name is Haven,” my scream echoed across the room. This was it. My last ditch effort. Either he killed me or made me a vampire. I prayed for the former as I struggled against him, hurling insult after insult in the hopes that one would anger him enough.

If I could get him to lose his cool, maybe he’d snap my neck. I could only hope.

The vampire fisted his hand in my hair, yanking painfully. My eyes watered immediately, but I refused to cry out in pain. I just continued to yell, to futilely fight, until I felt him bury his fangs in my jugular.

Goodbye, Gabriel.