Yvette's Haven Page 50

“Excuse me if I’m not roaring with laughter,” Zane hissed.

“Zane, please.” Gabriel gave him a shake of his head. “We’re all under stress. But that doesn’t mean we have to forget our manners.”

He was relieved from answering when the door opened behind him and Samson walked in, a sheet of paper in his hand.

“Got it.” He handed the sheet to Gabriel. Then he briefly smiled at the witch. “Hey, Francine. Good to see you.”

“Perfect,” Gabriel proclaimed, looking at the piece of paper.

“Did I get him right?” Samson asked.

Gabriel nodded. Then he lifted the sheet for all of them to see. “Meet Yvette’s attacker.”

Zane looked at the drawing Samson had created. He’d always known that Samson was a fantastic painter and sketcher, but he’d outdone himself with the drawing of the man who graced the sheet of paper now. And his photographic memory had clearly helped him in his task.

The man’s face had uneven features, piercing blue eyes, dark hair, and a strong jaw line. His lips were full, his nose straight, and all in all he had a rugged look about him. Not classically handsome, but not unattractive either.

“How did you do that?”

Samson smiled. “After Gabriel dove into the driver’s memories, he planted them in my mind, so I was able to see him. Then I could draw him.”

When Zane looked back toward the paper, he caught Francine’s shocked stare, her eyes glued to the picture in Gabriel’s hands.

“Francine.” She looked at him when he called out her name, and he knew in that instant that she recognized the face. “Who is he?”

All eyes flew to the witch, whose lips trembled. “He looks so much like his late father,” she whispered almost to herself.

“Francine,” Gabriel prompted. “Tell us who this is.”

She swallowed, letting a few more seconds pass, before she answered, “That’s Haven, Jennifer’s son. I didn’t know he was back.”

***

“And why should we believe you?” Wesley asked.

Yvette’s “taste test” had been positive. Kimberly was Katie. She knew it with one-hundred-percent certainty, but the brothers were still skeptical. “I have no reason to lie. There’s nothing in it for me.”

“Hmm.” Wesley looked at his brother. Haven glanced at Kimberly, clearly torn between his doubts and wanting to believe.

Of course Haven wouldn’t believe a vampire. Why would he? He had a low enough opinion of her. Frustration spread in Yvette. Why did she bother to try to help them? She had to be psycho to ask for another smack in the face. “Fine!” Yvette bit out. Then she raised her voice. “Witch! WITCH! Get the fuck in here! NOW!”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Kimberly flinch and cover her ears with her hands.

Yvette’s screaming had the desired effect. A few moments later, the door opened. The witch remained on the other side of the threshold, her face distorted in anger.

“What do you want?” She glared first at Yvette, then at the brothers. “You idiots still haven’t killed her?! Maybe it’s time I did the job myself!”

“A question first, if I may?” Yvette asked, feigning politeness. “Is Kimberly Haven’s and Wesley’s sister?”

First a flash of surprise crossed the witch’s face, then a wicked smile curled around her lips. “You only just figured that out? Gee, if you’re all that slow, I guess I won’t have much to worry about.”

Then she slammed the door shut.

“Believe me now?” Yvette looked at the brothers. Slowly, their disbelief turned to joy, at the same time as Yvette felt disappointment rush through her. Haven believed the witch, but he hadn’t believed her. Even though she had expected it given his history with vampires, it still hurt. Deflated, she let herself fall onto the next cot and leaned against the wall.

Yvette had never been to a family reunion—well, at least not in the last fifty years. What she witnessed now nearly brought tears to her eyes. Despite the bare walls and floor of their prison, the room couldn’t have been any warmer with the emotions that flowed freely between the three siblings.

Yvette felt a little tingle of envy as she watched the brothers hug their younger sister and bombard her with questions about her childhood at the orphanage, her interests, and her career. They were the picture of a happy family—well, as happy as you could be in captivity.

Kimberly’s questions for her brothers weren’t any less excited, and while Yvette tried to tune out, she couldn’t help but listen to the stories that Haven recounted about his life as a bounty hunter. Yvette wasn’t sure, but she had the feeling that he deliberately left any mention of his vampire-slaying activities out of the stories. Maybe he wanted to show his gratitude that in a weird kind of way she’d helped him find his sister.

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