Yvette's Haven
Page 75
When Yvette turned away from her boss, she caught Haven’s eye. Had he guessed that the only reason she wanted to be at Thomas’ house was so she could steal some alone-time with Haven? Was she that transparent to him?
***
Haven pulled Francine aside as she stepped into the hallway in Samson’s house. “A word.”
She nodded and smiled at him. “Has anybody ever told you how much you look like your father?”
Not wanting to revisit his feelings about his father, Haven tried to fight against the memories. He understood now why he and his mother had fought before Katie’s birth. But he wasn’t ready to forgive his father for leaving them. Had he not loved him and Wes at all?
“Why didn’t he fight her? Why didn’t he take us with him?”
Francine’s look was full of pity. Haven averted his eyes, not wanting to show how the memories of his father affected him.
“Jennifer threatened him.”
Renewed anger started to boil up in him. “He could have fought for Wes and me.”
Francine placed her hand on his forearm and squeezed. “He did. He lost.”
“But he left us!”
She shook her head. “He didn’t leave you.” She paused and sighed. “He loved you and Wes. Even more than he loved her.”
Confusion made itself at home in Haven’s chest. “But you said so yourself: you told all of them in there that he left us.” He gestured toward the living room where the vampires were preparing for the tasks ahead.
“I had to lie. Wes and Katie can’t handle the truth. But you, you’re stronger. You’ve always been stronger, even as a boy.”
He knew the answer to his question before he even asked it, yet the words still tumbled over his lips. “What did she do to him?”
“She killed him.”
Haven felt his knees buckle and gripped the banister, his knuckles turning white under the strain. “No, it can’t be true.” But in his heart he knew the truth.
“She was obsessed with the lust for power. She hid it well for a long time. But I could see it. Once it gripped her, she couldn’t let go. It was like a curse. Like a sickness that takes hold and strangles you. Once you’re afflicted, it’s only a matter of time until you succumb. She never had a chance.” Francine’s eyes were moist with unshed tears. “I hope you and you brother and sister never succumb to it. You have to stop it before it’s too late.”
Haven shook his head, his thoughts jumbled. His mother had betrayed them all and robbed him of his father. How could he ever get past that? And for all these years, he’d hated his father when he didn’t deserve it. He’d fought for them, given his life to protect them. Shame spread in Haven’s heart about the feelings he’d harbored there for so many years. He wished he could ask him for forgiveness.
“I have no taste for the Power of Three. I don’t want it.”
“You say that now because you don’t know yet what it’s like to be within reach of it.” Her eyes shone with the glint of a child beneath the Christmas tree. “But once you can feel it, taste it, sense it …”
“I don’t want it.” The Power of Three was the reason why his father was dead, why his sister had grown up without them. He could never embrace a force so destructive.
“Then you have to destroy it.”
“But—”
“You’ll find a way.” She let go of his arm and made a motion to turn.
“Wait—there was one question I wanted to ask you.”
She looked at him, tilting her chin up. “Yes?”
“You spoke of the key to the power my mother took away. How would I find it?”
Francine remained silent for a few moments, before she answered with a question of her own. “Did she die instantly when the vampire attacked her, or did she have a chance to say anything?”
“She chanted a spell.”
Francine shook her head. “That’s not what I meant. When she knew she was dying, you were there with her. Did she say anything?”
Haven’s mind traveled back to that fateful night in his mother’s kitchen. She’d mumbled something, but the words were beyond his reach. “I don’t remember.”
“That’s a shame, Haven, because despite everything I said about your mother, once she knew she had lost, she would have given you the key so you could defend yourself in the future. You have to try and remember it.”
Remember it. Those words triggered something in him … He reached for it, but wasn’t quick enough, the echo of his mother’s final words escaping him once more.
***
Haven pulled Francine aside as she stepped into the hallway in Samson’s house. “A word.”
She nodded and smiled at him. “Has anybody ever told you how much you look like your father?”
Not wanting to revisit his feelings about his father, Haven tried to fight against the memories. He understood now why he and his mother had fought before Katie’s birth. But he wasn’t ready to forgive his father for leaving them. Had he not loved him and Wes at all?
“Why didn’t he fight her? Why didn’t he take us with him?”
Francine’s look was full of pity. Haven averted his eyes, not wanting to show how the memories of his father affected him.
“Jennifer threatened him.”
Renewed anger started to boil up in him. “He could have fought for Wes and me.”
Francine placed her hand on his forearm and squeezed. “He did. He lost.”
“But he left us!”
She shook her head. “He didn’t leave you.” She paused and sighed. “He loved you and Wes. Even more than he loved her.”
Confusion made itself at home in Haven’s chest. “But you said so yourself: you told all of them in there that he left us.” He gestured toward the living room where the vampires were preparing for the tasks ahead.
“I had to lie. Wes and Katie can’t handle the truth. But you, you’re stronger. You’ve always been stronger, even as a boy.”
He knew the answer to his question before he even asked it, yet the words still tumbled over his lips. “What did she do to him?”
“She killed him.”
Haven felt his knees buckle and gripped the banister, his knuckles turning white under the strain. “No, it can’t be true.” But in his heart he knew the truth.
“She was obsessed with the lust for power. She hid it well for a long time. But I could see it. Once it gripped her, she couldn’t let go. It was like a curse. Like a sickness that takes hold and strangles you. Once you’re afflicted, it’s only a matter of time until you succumb. She never had a chance.” Francine’s eyes were moist with unshed tears. “I hope you and you brother and sister never succumb to it. You have to stop it before it’s too late.”
Haven shook his head, his thoughts jumbled. His mother had betrayed them all and robbed him of his father. How could he ever get past that? And for all these years, he’d hated his father when he didn’t deserve it. He’d fought for them, given his life to protect them. Shame spread in Haven’s heart about the feelings he’d harbored there for so many years. He wished he could ask him for forgiveness.
“I have no taste for the Power of Three. I don’t want it.”
“You say that now because you don’t know yet what it’s like to be within reach of it.” Her eyes shone with the glint of a child beneath the Christmas tree. “But once you can feel it, taste it, sense it …”
“I don’t want it.” The Power of Three was the reason why his father was dead, why his sister had grown up without them. He could never embrace a force so destructive.
“Then you have to destroy it.”
“But—”
“You’ll find a way.” She let go of his arm and made a motion to turn.
“Wait—there was one question I wanted to ask you.”
She looked at him, tilting her chin up. “Yes?”
“You spoke of the key to the power my mother took away. How would I find it?”
Francine remained silent for a few moments, before she answered with a question of her own. “Did she die instantly when the vampire attacked her, or did she have a chance to say anything?”
“She chanted a spell.”
Francine shook her head. “That’s not what I meant. When she knew she was dying, you were there with her. Did she say anything?”
Haven’s mind traveled back to that fateful night in his mother’s kitchen. She’d mumbled something, but the words were beyond his reach. “I don’t remember.”
“That’s a shame, Haven, because despite everything I said about your mother, once she knew she had lost, she would have given you the key so you could defend yourself in the future. You have to try and remember it.”
Remember it. Those words triggered something in him … He reached for it, but wasn’t quick enough, the echo of his mother’s final words escaping him once more.
