Yvette's Haven Page 24

A flash of grief flared in Wesley’s eyes. With a roar, he lunged for her much faster than she’d expected. He slammed his body against her and drove her against the wall. The sturdy surface connecting with her back would have hurt a human’s spine and ribs, but Yvette’s body was built stronger, more indestructible.

“Don’t you dare mention my mother.”

It appeared she’d hit a sore spot. Just as well: find the enemy’s weak points and exploit them. That’s what she’d been taught all these years during her training at Scanguards. And she’d been a good student. On the job, she’d perfected every skill they’d taught her. “I’ll mention your mother all I want.” There was a wound, and while she didn’t know how deep it was, rubbing salt on it was an easy way to find out.

Wesley’s hands tried to reach for her throat, but Yvette blocked him effortlessly with her forearm. “I’ll kill you. You’ll pay for killing my mother. You all will.”

For a second, she went still. No wonder the pup was all agitated. She looked into his eyes and saw the deep-rooted pain in them. She could take a wild guess at what the cause of his pain was. It wasn’t fresh, but it seemed nevertheless severe. “You really think you have the strength to kill me?” Yvette blew out a breath of air, showing him just how much she thought of his fighting abilities.

“I’ll kill you,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

“For what? For something I didn’t do?”

“You’re all responsible—all you vampires,” he spat.

It got her hackles up. She hated being accused wholesale for something one of her fellow vampires might or might not have done. “You’d better start explaining what you mean by that.” Yvette held firm and didn’t move. Their bodies were pressed together, but she felt none of the heat and arousal she’d felt with Haven. Nothing stirred in her; all she saw was the boy inside the man, the boy who was hurting.

“You killed her.”

“Your mother. I don’t even know you mother.” Anger at his accusation made her raise her voice. To calm herself down, she took a few steadying breaths, knowing that she’d get nowhere if she lost control over the situation. “What happened to her?” Like she’d been taught, she made her voice calm and even. She could have pushed him off a hundred times and freed herself from him, but she chose not to. Wesley needed to maintain a semblance of being in charge, because inside she could see him crumbling.

“A vampire.” His eyes grew distant.

“A vampire killed your mother?” She knew the answer already, but she needed to get him to talk. If she knew the circumstances, she could rebuke his accusations and make him understand that she had nothing to do with it. But he didn’t answer.

“Wesley?”

He shook his head as if ridding himself of the memories. Then his eyes stared at her, and the hardness was back, the pain pushed back into dark recesses where it couldn’t be found. “That’s why you’ll die.”

Knowing that she’d played her hand for what it was worth, she pushed him off her, propelling him into the middle of the room. “I’m not the vampire you’re looking for.”

“Doesn’t matter: I’ll kill each and every one of you until I find the right one.”

“That doesn’t make you any better than the vampire who killed your mother.”

“Don’t compare me to the likes of your kind. You’re bloodthirsty killers.”

She decided not to correct him on his assumption that she’d killed. She hadn’t—well, self-defense didn’t count—but it was better if he feared her. It would keep him at bay. “And you’re not? What makes your killing any different?”

“I kill despicable creatures like you: heartless, soulless creatures.”

Yvette gave a bitter laugh. If she were really heartless, then she wouldn’t feel the loneliness that had been engulfing her for years. She wouldn’t feel the yearning for a family, for a man and a child who loved her. If she had no soul, she wouldn’t mourn the loss of her friends who’d died over the years. “You have no idea who I am.”

She turned away from him, not wanting him to see the storm inside her. It didn’t stop him from insulting her any further. “My brother should have staked you.”

Without turning, she responded, “Your brother won’t hurt me.” She was certain about it, more certain than she’d been about anything lately.

“What have you done to him?”

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