Yvette's Haven
Page 28
He didn’t understand her ramblings, but his lips were too swollen to bother speaking.
Bess let out a nasty chuckle, then lashed the whip at him again. “I had to make sure. You understand that, don’t you?” The next lash brought darkness and silence and with it a reprieve from the pain.
***
Yvette heard the footsteps outside in the hallway and the sound of something being dragged along the floor. Instantly alerted, she jumped up from the cot she’d been resting on, nervousness and a feeling of dread creeping through her cells. Certain sounds were never a good sign. She’d learned that long ago. This was one of those sounds.
When the door swung open, the stench of witch permeated. But it wasn’t the only smell that tensed her nostrils. Blood was in the air. Yvette’s gaze snapped to the witch and the bundle of flesh she’d dragged behind her that now slithered into the room. Briefly, she wondered whether the witch was using her powers to drag Haven’s heavy body along the floor rather than her muscles, but Yvette’s question died a silent death the moment she saw him.
He was only barely conscious, his chest practically naked with only strips of what used to be a shirt clinging to his bloodstained body. His lips were bleeding, his neck and shoulders crisscrossed with cuts and bruises, but that wasn’t the worse. Along his abdomen, three large gashes dug deep into his flesh. Yvette’s heart clenched painfully. No matter how much pain Haven could take, he was human. The pain would be excruciating, and the blood loss would weaken him. Without a doubt, he was in agony.
The blood pouring from Haven’s many wounds made Yvette’s stomach growl, no matter how much she tried to suppress her hunger and hold her breath. Certain things not even she could withstand, despite the iron willpower she possessed.
“Oh, my God!” Kimberly took a few tentative steps toward the door.
“Oh, shit, Hav,” Wesley cried out, crouching down next to his brother. “What the fuck did you do to him?” There was murderous fury in the glare he pinned on the witch.
“It’s his own fault. Too stubborn for his own good.”
Yvette tried to stay back, not wanting to get any closer to the enticing smell of blood, but her stomach growled again. The witch heard it and gave her a nasty smile. “Looks like someone’s hungry.”
Instantly and simultaneously, Wesley’s glare and Kimberly’s scared look landed on her. Yvette retreated to the far corner of their prison. Whatever headway she’d made with Kimberly, trusting her not to harm her, she’d lost again.
“Human blood’s not really my thing.” Yvette suppressed the urge to snarl and flash her fangs at the fucking bitch. It wouldn’t do any good, other than scare Kimberly even more, which was the last thing she wanted to do. “I prefer the taste of witch’s blood myself. Care to make a donation?” Yvette forced a nonchalant look onto her face.
The witch didn’t take the bait, seeing through her as if Yvette was as transparent as a politician’s campaign promises. “Haven’s blood must be stinging your nostrils by now. How does it feel?”
Yvette didn’t dare glance down to the floor where Wesley tended to his half-conscious brother. She kept her eyes firmly on the witch. “Not particularly. I fed just before you captured us, so I’m good for at least two days,” she lied.
At the best of times, she could hold out twenty-four hours, but even before that she’d get cranky. Her colleagues had always teased her about it and avoided her when she hadn’t fed. She could admit it to herself: she was a royal bitch when she was hungry. And she was getting hungry. Her last feeding had been too many hours ago, and the potion Haven had used to capture her had zapped even more of her energy.
The witch scoffed, and maybe for now Yvette had been able to fool her. Not that it mattered. Soon, her colleagues would be looking for her and Kimberly. She’d missed her regular call-in into Central Control. Gabriel would be notified, and knowing him, he’d start combing the city for her. Somehow they’d find her and get her out of here. It was only a matter of time. She just had to sit tight.
“You think I can’t tell how you’re holding your breath so you won’t smell his blood? You want to suck him dry, don’t you?”
Yvette narrowed her eyes and clenched her jaw. “No.”
The witch turned her head toward Wesley. “I think you’ll have to kill her after all. Or do you want to risk her killing your brother?”
“Scheming bitch! Can’t do your dirty work yourself, can you?” Yvette hissed. Maybe the witch’s powers weren’t quite strong enough against a vampire. Was that the reason why she hadn’t tried to kill her yet? It was an avenue to explore. If her powers were only strong enough to hold the humans at bay, Yvette just might have a chance at defeating the witch. If she could get out of this room. The wards seemed strong enough to hold even a vampire captive, but if she could somehow get out from within the wards, maybe she could fight her. The problem with witches was you never knew what they had up their sleeve. She hated that.
Bess let out a nasty chuckle, then lashed the whip at him again. “I had to make sure. You understand that, don’t you?” The next lash brought darkness and silence and with it a reprieve from the pain.
***
Yvette heard the footsteps outside in the hallway and the sound of something being dragged along the floor. Instantly alerted, she jumped up from the cot she’d been resting on, nervousness and a feeling of dread creeping through her cells. Certain sounds were never a good sign. She’d learned that long ago. This was one of those sounds.
When the door swung open, the stench of witch permeated. But it wasn’t the only smell that tensed her nostrils. Blood was in the air. Yvette’s gaze snapped to the witch and the bundle of flesh she’d dragged behind her that now slithered into the room. Briefly, she wondered whether the witch was using her powers to drag Haven’s heavy body along the floor rather than her muscles, but Yvette’s question died a silent death the moment she saw him.
He was only barely conscious, his chest practically naked with only strips of what used to be a shirt clinging to his bloodstained body. His lips were bleeding, his neck and shoulders crisscrossed with cuts and bruises, but that wasn’t the worse. Along his abdomen, three large gashes dug deep into his flesh. Yvette’s heart clenched painfully. No matter how much pain Haven could take, he was human. The pain would be excruciating, and the blood loss would weaken him. Without a doubt, he was in agony.
The blood pouring from Haven’s many wounds made Yvette’s stomach growl, no matter how much she tried to suppress her hunger and hold her breath. Certain things not even she could withstand, despite the iron willpower she possessed.
“Oh, my God!” Kimberly took a few tentative steps toward the door.
“Oh, shit, Hav,” Wesley cried out, crouching down next to his brother. “What the fuck did you do to him?” There was murderous fury in the glare he pinned on the witch.
“It’s his own fault. Too stubborn for his own good.”
Yvette tried to stay back, not wanting to get any closer to the enticing smell of blood, but her stomach growled again. The witch heard it and gave her a nasty smile. “Looks like someone’s hungry.”
Instantly and simultaneously, Wesley’s glare and Kimberly’s scared look landed on her. Yvette retreated to the far corner of their prison. Whatever headway she’d made with Kimberly, trusting her not to harm her, she’d lost again.
“Human blood’s not really my thing.” Yvette suppressed the urge to snarl and flash her fangs at the fucking bitch. It wouldn’t do any good, other than scare Kimberly even more, which was the last thing she wanted to do. “I prefer the taste of witch’s blood myself. Care to make a donation?” Yvette forced a nonchalant look onto her face.
The witch didn’t take the bait, seeing through her as if Yvette was as transparent as a politician’s campaign promises. “Haven’s blood must be stinging your nostrils by now. How does it feel?”
Yvette didn’t dare glance down to the floor where Wesley tended to his half-conscious brother. She kept her eyes firmly on the witch. “Not particularly. I fed just before you captured us, so I’m good for at least two days,” she lied.
At the best of times, she could hold out twenty-four hours, but even before that she’d get cranky. Her colleagues had always teased her about it and avoided her when she hadn’t fed. She could admit it to herself: she was a royal bitch when she was hungry. And she was getting hungry. Her last feeding had been too many hours ago, and the potion Haven had used to capture her had zapped even more of her energy.
The witch scoffed, and maybe for now Yvette had been able to fool her. Not that it mattered. Soon, her colleagues would be looking for her and Kimberly. She’d missed her regular call-in into Central Control. Gabriel would be notified, and knowing him, he’d start combing the city for her. Somehow they’d find her and get her out of here. It was only a matter of time. She just had to sit tight.
“You think I can’t tell how you’re holding your breath so you won’t smell his blood? You want to suck him dry, don’t you?”
Yvette narrowed her eyes and clenched her jaw. “No.”
The witch turned her head toward Wesley. “I think you’ll have to kill her after all. Or do you want to risk her killing your brother?”
“Scheming bitch! Can’t do your dirty work yourself, can you?” Yvette hissed. Maybe the witch’s powers weren’t quite strong enough against a vampire. Was that the reason why she hadn’t tried to kill her yet? It was an avenue to explore. If her powers were only strong enough to hold the humans at bay, Yvette just might have a chance at defeating the witch. If she could get out of this room. The wards seemed strong enough to hold even a vampire captive, but if she could somehow get out from within the wards, maybe she could fight her. The problem with witches was you never knew what they had up their sleeve. She hated that.
