Haven (24 page)

As we sat in both inner and outer silence, my mind replayed another meal at another table.

I occupied a large blue velvet chair, my tiny legs curled under me to reach the tabletop. Jonas slouched in another high back chair, blood-filled wine glass in hand, watching me twirl spaghetti around a fork and try to shove the huge ball into my mouth, only to have most of it fall back to the plate.

A husky laugh sounded from nowhere. Uncle Zi appeared in tight black pants, riding boots, and a black shirt unbuttoned to the waist. A shiny ruby-encrusted gold ankh on a long gold chain rested against his pale chest. His long black hair was damp and spilled over his shoulders in loose ringlets, smelling of rain and lavender.

His red lips curled upward. “You forgot this.” He produced a spoon out of thin air.

I squealed in delight at the magic trick. He put the spoon in my left hand, and covered both my tiny hands with his to help me twirl a small pasta ball on the fork, using the spoon as a support base.

A hand squeezed my shoulder jerking me back to the present. My chopsticks slipped from my grasp.

“Easy there, babe.” Adrian patted my back. I coughed, trying to shake off the head rush from the flashback.

“I’ve gotta go to the club now. You two play nice, okay?” He kissed us both on the cheek, me first, grabbed his suit jacket off the counter and sauntered out the back door.

I stared after him long after the door closed, wanting to go to the club, too, immerse myself in routine business. Avoid dealing with the mega-weird world back here in the house.

Jonas’s glass hit the table harder than necessary. “Tell me about your dream.”

I stiffened. “Tell me about your dream,
please
.”

His eyes narrowed. Tiny electric shocks scurried up my arms.

“Hey!”

His lips twitched. “Please.”

“What happened to playing nicely?” I groused.

“This is nice.”

“Back off.”

Stella appeared at the table, empty wine glass in hand. She arched a questioning dark brow.

Jonas said nothing.

I spoke for us. “We’re okay. I think.”

Stella shot Jonas a hard look, refilled her wine glass and disappeared at hyper speed.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I admitted into the ensuing silence.

Jonas extended one slender white hand, palm up. “Show me.”

“Did you see that flashback?” I stalled. “Before Adrian touched my shoulder and snapped me out of it?”

“No. Show me.”

I placed my hand next to his. “So, I hold your hand, and you’ll get it? Just like at the clinic?”

He nodded.

My fingers found his, warm from the blood he drank. Eyes closed, I pictured the spaghetti dinner memory. His fingers squeezed mine, an unexpected and welcome gesture of affection. I did love the grouchy guy despite our near constant friction, so I squeezed back.

The Dixon dream flowed through my mind. Jonas stiffened and hissed as Dixon and the shadow dude attacked me. When the dream room burst into flames, Jonas shot to his feet and pulled me into his arms. My eyes flew open. His glittered with protective anger.

Stella whooshed into the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

Jonas bared his fangs at her and snarled. Stella had no time to react because Lorenzo stormed into the house cursing and yelling for her in Italian. She strode back into the living room, exchanging heated words with my brother. He was angry over the Ferrari. No surprise there.

Thomas appeared in a rush of cold air. “What has happened?”

“Her dream,” Jonas replied, releasing me.

The two men faced each other and conversed in their heads. Shutting me out, yet again.

I slumped into my chair. “I know you’re talking about me. I think you should let me in.” There. That was polite. Reasonable even.

She’s right,
Tessa agreed.
Let her in.

“Tessa? Where are you?”

Unimportant, my darling one. Listen.

The two men were arguing.

Now is not the time for full disclosure,
Thomas said.

When is the time? When it is too late?
Jonas grumbled.
When she is dead? Or our Prince?

You exaggerate, my friend. It will not come to that.

You do not know that.

It will not come to pass,
Thomas insisted.

If we act now, perhaps not,
Jonas countered. Silence. Then,
We cannot ignore Dixon’s transgressions.

An unfortunate complication, to be sure.

A hostile challenge,
Jonas growled.

Yes,
Thomas conceded.
It is a shame he failed to recognize the truth before him until it was too late.

It matters not he presumed she was your food, Thomas. Be she food or Tranquilli, his was an act of aggression.

He has been punished.

Clearly
inadequate,
Jonas snapped
. Even caged in the Deep Freeze, he has sided with our enemy, opened the way for l’uomo nero’s second attempt. We cannot remain idle in the face of this threat.

Patience, my friend. The Dark One is incorporeal and that limits him. Remember how easily
we contained him within the Seer.

“Wait a second,” I interjected. “
L’uomo nero
means boogeyman. Are you saying the boogeyman came after me in my dream? And possessed Faith? The boogeyman. Seriously?” I laughed. “No. Way.”

They ignored me.

Do not underestimate him, Thomas. That he did not meet a true death at our Prince’s hand, as we had all believed, speaks to the greatness of his power.

We were all there, Jonas. He perished, his body burned to ash. In spirit form, he is but an echo of his former dark self. A mere shadow. I say again, this restricts his reach.

Jonas is right,
Tessa interjected from wherever she was.
We must act. The Dark One has revealed himself twice in the here and now after more than a century of silence. According to our young Seer, his minions are still many.

No.
Thomas’s tone brooked no argument, but Tessa pressed on.

Have you forgotten the not so distant past? How many dear ones we lost? We almost lost our Little Star when his dark servants attacked our stronghold in His name.

Of course not, but—

Tessa cut him off.
We hid her well these twelve years past, but she has been made whole once more, and already she begins to shine like the beacon she is. All too soon all will see her and know her instantly. The Chosen One. The Star. L’Uomo Nero sees her, Thomas. He will come for her. And with Dixon at his side...Jonas is right. We cannot afford to underestimate him now.

Thomas shook his head.
No.

You stubborn man,
Impatience edged Tessa’s voice.
How can you continue in this obstinacy when the Dark One has touched our beloved’s mind and attempted a coup? And Maurizio has summoned her to his presence, ordered her to use the Key, and you know she understands none of this. It is time for considerable revelation.

No.

Interesting. Of the three of them, Thomas held the veto power.

Dammit, Thomas!
Jonas’s power burst over the room like an electrical storm. Thomas didn’t even flinch but I jerked and bumped the table. The glass of blood wobbled. I grabbed it.

All three vampires spoke at once, an incomprehensible jumble of painful sound in my head. In the dining room, Stella and Lorenzo argued about cars and responsibility and respect and the chain of command and assorted other things I didn’t want to hear.

I shut out the cacophony, frowning down at the glass as my brain processed this latest bit of info. Not only was Dixon out for a piece of revenge pie, but he had a partner in crime, the mythical boogeyman. The latter just happened to be a super powerful,
bodiless
vampire with an unhealthy interest in me.

I mean, c’mon, seriously? How am I supposed to fight a shadow? Can I please cry ‘foul’ now?

“This makes no sense,” I muttered. “I’m not special.”

Thomas lowered himself into the chair next to me. “Yes, you are.”

The house was quiet now. Lorenzo and Stella sat at the table with Thomas and me.

Jonas placed a chair backwards next to Thomas and straddled it, arms resting along the top. “You
are
unique. Others will seek you out.”

“Yeah, I get it, I’m a monster magnet and they all want a piece of me. Peachy.”

A lengthy silence ensued until I asked, “How do I get rid of the big, bad bodiless boogeyman, before he gets rid of me?”

Jonas, ever the warrior, gave an approving nod.

Thomas’s green eyes glittered. “Excellent question,
cara mia
. So practical.” He cracked a smile, showing full fangs. “Your father would be proud. You are like him in many ways.”

“Thomas!” Lorenzo banged a fist on the table and glared at the other man. “You promised me. You said ‘
no.
’ No, dammit!”

I eyed my brother. “Dude, what’s your problem?”

Lorenzo leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, expression murderous.

“He is afraid,” Thomas supplied, watching me.

“Afraid of what?” I sensed we no longer discussed the boogeyman. I clutched the glass of blood to my chest.

“He fears the truth. And your reaction to it.”

“Don’t do this, Thomas. Not now. Not like this.”

Lorenzo was begging? How odd.

“Like what?” I drew the glass to my nose and sniffed. The metallic smell tickled my nose in a pleasant way.

Jonas leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands, dark eyes gleaming with anticipation.

“Rina, stop.” Lorenzo stood. Stella’s small yet forceful hand pulled him back down.

I put down the glass. “Dude. Again I say, what’s your problem? It’s blood. It’s not like you haven’t seen someone drink blood.”

“But not you,” Jonas supplied.

Lorenzo’s brow furrowed. “You really want to drink that?”

I shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. What does it matter?”

My brother gave Thomas a pleading look. Was I missing something?

“It matters.” Jonas picked up the glass and drained the contents.

Thomas refilled it and slid it to me. “Drink.”

It wasn’t a command, but suspicion arose. “What’s going on now? I thought we were getting into some big truth telling.”

“Why tell when showing is much more—”

“If you say fun I’ll punch you in the face.” I disliked the excited twinkle in his green eyes, the hum of anticipatory tension in his body.

“Try a little sip.”

“Now you sound like a drug dealer.” My hand circled the glass.

“Taste it,” Thomas uttered at the same time my brother pleaded, “Don’t do it, Rina.” The latter pounded both fists on the table.

“That’s enough from both of you, especially you, Mister Melodrama.”

I raised the glass. Lorenzo cursed. I rolled my eyes and took a sip.

“Oh.” Warm. Wonderful. Yum.

The top of my head tingled and a drug-like warmth engulfed me. Major headrush. Another sip tugged at my stomach. Wow, this is so good
.

“Rina,
sorellina, smettila per favore
. Please stop,” Lorenzo croaked.

I chugged it.

A raging fire flared to life in my gut, searing me from head to toe. I dropped the glass and shot to my feet, only
to collapse to the floor on all fours, trembling under the weight of the power roaring inside me. This power was
big
, worthy of attention from the bad monsters on the block. It differed from the power plays I’d experienced with Alexander. It triggered alarms in my brain. Red Alert. Danger. Extreme Danger.

Yes, this power
was
dangerous.
I
was dangerous. Bad things would happen if I let the power escape the confines of my body.

“
Sorellina
!” Lorenzo lunged for me, overturning the table.

Stella tackled Lorenzo. They crashed into the cabinet near the bar pass-through, breaking the door and the dishes inside.

Wow, Adrian would be pissed.

Huh. What a mundane thought to have while I burned alive from the inside out.

Out
.

Oh right, the power needed to get out. If only
I would let go.

Dangerous.

“Help me,” I croaked. Thomas and Jonas watched me with a predatory intensity, eyes black and glowing with power. Were my eyes black, too? Burning with my power? Probably. When the fire ignited within me, I’d sensed a shift, like a waterfall of cold water in my eyes.

Faith’s words echoed through my mind.
Black as night, full of light, a universe inside.

Was I about to go supernova? My power roared, battering my body, an enraged, trapped tigress ramming her cage. The force of it threw me against the overturned table. I curled into a ball on the floor, a pool of blood from the spilled pitcher inches from my face. The room spun wildly
until there was nothing to see but the blood, the blood on the—

Ground.

I huddled next to an ornate, two-tiered fountain mewling like a terrified kitten. My white nightie was sticky. And red. Blood, blood everywhere, all over my tiny arms and hands, my face and hair. Like I’d had a bath in the stuff.

A man picked me up. No, not a man, a monster with a huge mouth of sharp teeth and black holes for eyes. He hissed. I shrieked. He dug long, sharp nails into my body. I screamed. The monster sunk his teeth into my neck.

My cries stopped, the pain so unbearable my tiny body had no sound for it. I bit my tongue. Blood filled my mouth. The liquid trickled down my throat. I swallowed. It tasted like the pennies in my piggy bank. Lo-Lo kept telling me not to put them in my mouth, but I did it anyway.