Yvette's Haven - Page 90/105

“I don’t either.”

“Good, then we’re in agreement. But I need your help. There’s a second part to the plan which I haven’t told anybody about, not even Yvette.”
Thirty-Three

Yvette bit her fingernails. She hadn’t done that since she was human. But waiting in the blackout van for any news on what was happing at Haven’s apartment was nerve wracking. Next to her, Zane sat like a stone statue, not moving, not shuffling around, and certainly not fidgeting like she was. As if nothing bothered him. Which was probably the case.

“Hungry?” he suddenly asked and reached into the cooler next to him, pulling out a bottle of blood.

She shook her head.

“Ah, I guess you dined on Haven earlier. What’s it like, witch’s blood?”

Yvette’s patience snapped like a bungee cord. Her fingers wrapped around Zane’s neck, pressing him against the headrest. “Shut the fuck up or I’m gonna stake you right here!”

He grabbed her wrist and freed himself, then moved his head from side to side, cracking the vertebrae in his neck. The sound sent a chill down Yvette’s spine.

“Touchy. Guess that’ll teach me not to interrupt next time he’s going down on you.”

Zane really didn’t know what was good for him.

“Stay out of my private life!” She wrenched her hand free from his grip and narrowed her eyes. “You know what, Zane—if I had one wish, you know what it would be? Do you? It’s for you to fall in love with your greatest enemy. And do you know what I’ll be doing then? I’ll be laughing my ass off.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and stared out the tinted windows. “So leave me the fuck alone!”

“I don’t do love!” Zane snorted.

“Yeah? Well, neither did I. Shit happens.” Yvette felt slightly better at the thought that she was rattling Zane’s cage. At least it had shut him up. Better than having him poke his nose into her business. What she felt for Haven was private. Nobody needed to know. She’d have to come to terms with it herself first, before others could add their opinions on the matter.

Not that she would allow her friends’ opinions to deter her in the end: whatever she decided to do would be her decision and hers alone. It didn’t matter what the others thought about her infatuation with a man who was neither human nor vampire, but witch. Had there ever been a successful vampire-witch pairing? She sure knew of no such event occurring. But then again, Haven wasn’t really a true witch. He had no powers at this point. Would that make things right?

Yvette exhaled, trying to ease the tension in her body. It didn’t really matter what Haven was, because he was just … Haven. A man who made her forget all the pain of her past. A man who could maybe even accept her the way she was: damaged, not a real woman. And if fate threw her this bone—who was she to toss it away?

A beeping sound pulled her out of her reverie. Her gaze flew to the monitor in front of her. Two green dots blinked as one. Red dots were circling them. “They’re on the move.”

“Let’s go,” Zane ordered the human driver. “Keep back. Let’s see where she’s taking them.”

Yvette watched on the monitor as the green dots moved through the city, the red dots being Scanguards blackout vans moving in synch with them, but always staying at least three blocks away from the green dots. It was imperative that the witch didn’t realize she was being followed even though she might suspect it. But since it was daylight, she probably felt herself to be safe from the vampires. She wasn’t.

Her eyes glued to the monitor, showing a map of San Francisco, Yvette followed the movement of the green dots. Heading west at about the same speed as their own van, the other vehicle slugged through heavy midday traffic. It slowly advanced on one of the main arteries before it turned north onto the road leading toward Golden Gate Bridge. The witch was heading for the countryside.

Yvette thought about it for a moment. If Francine’s assumption was right, then the ritual would have to be performed outside under the moon. Marin County just north of the Golden Gate Bridge would offer many secluded and wooded areas where such ritual would go unnoticed. Besides, the area was full of new-age junkies, and another witch dancing naked in the moonlight wouldn’t rouse any suspicion. Not that Francine had said anything about naked dancing.

As they crossed the Golden Gate Bridge about a mile behind the witch’s vehicle, Yvette glanced out the dark window. The view of the city was stunning. But she wasn’t on a sightseeing tour. If everything went well, she’d come back here with Haven one night to look down at the lights of the city. Share an embrace. A kiss.