“Kimberly’s fine,” the big guy responded. “Why don’t you guys get cleaned up, then you can come down to meet everybody.”

Haven narrowed his eyes. “Who are you?”

The guy grinned. “Amaury’s the name.” Then his facial muscles tensed. “Yvette is my friend.” There was an underlying threat in his words.

“Where is she?”

“At home.”

Deflated, Haven’s shoulders dropped. She’d run out on him and served him up to the wolves. Why had he ever started to trust her?

A strange smile curled around Amaury’s lips. “She’ll be back.” He turned away from the door, then thought otherwise and looked back at them over his shoulder. “She was a little shaken. Thought Zane had killed you.” Then he pointed toward the inside of the room. “There’s an ensuite bathroom. Come downstairs when you’re ready.”

Haven closed the door and turned back to Wes, who stood right behind him.

“He’s one of the vampires, isn’t he?” Wesley asked.

Absentmindedly, Haven nodded. But he couldn’t form words, because he was still digesting Amaury’s claim. Yvette was shaken because she thought that someone had killed him? Did this mean she cared? About him?

“Shit, Hav! What are we gonna do now?”

“I’ll take a shower.”

“How can you think of something so mundane right now?”

Very easily. If Yvette was coming back here, he didn’t want to stink like a pig. He hadn’t showered in two days. He wanted to give her no reason to pull back from him.

“If that vampire wanted to hurt us, he would have already done it while we were unconscious.” Maybe Yvette’s promise was good after all. He sure hoped so for all their sakes.

Twenty minutes later, he and Wes were ready to hit the lion’s den. The corridor was empty when they left the room behind them. From what Haven had seen so far, they were in an old Victorian home. From the window, he’d looked out into the neighborhood and seen the lights in the dark. They were somewhere in Nob Hill or Russian Hill, the posh areas of San Francisco. Figured the bloodsuckers had money.

Descending the dark mahogany staircase, Haven took in his surroundings. Yes, the place was elegant and well kept. Voices drifted to him when he reached the foot of the stairs. He glanced to his side.

“You ready?”

Wes shrugged then looked at the heavy entrance door. “If Kimberly was with us, I’d make a run for it.”

“I know. But we can’t leave her here.”

His brother nodded. “That’s the only reason I’m going in there.” He tilted his head toward the door from which the voices emanated.

“Ditto,” Haven lied. He cared for his sister, naturally. But he also wanted to see Yvette. Not just wanted, needed. To understand what was going on between them. What he’d felt when locked up with her couldn’t simply be attributed to lust. Sure, they’d gone at it like a bunch of randy rabbits, but he knew there was something else between them.

“You gonna stand there forever or are you planning on running?” a voice came from down the long dark corridor.

Haven turned his head and squinted, trying to make out the tall figure of a man as he approached. He was lean, his head shaved bald, his eyes glaring at him and Wes. His mouth was pressed into a thin line; there was something dangerous wafting around him. Haven suppressed the shiver of unease that rolled down his spine. Instinct told him not to show any weakness to the stranger.

“What’s it to you?”

The bald man—make that vampire, considering the nasty snarl he now unleashed—took another step toward them. “I wanna warn you. Either of you mess with us, and I’ll crush you with one hand. Very, very slowly.” From the way he issued his threat, Haven was sure that the jerk would get a hell lot of pleasure out of it too.

“And you wanna tell me who’s making that threat?” Haven ignored Wes’ hand on his arm, clearly trying to hold him back from saying anything stupid. “Or shall I just call you asshole?”

Before he could blink, the vamp was on him—he hadn’t even seen him move!

Haven was choked by fingers like steel traps.

“ZANE!” The commanding voice made the asshole release his death grip on Haven’s throat.

Haven coughed and pulled in a breath of air. Shit, that bastard was strong—and fast. He’d had no chance to react: the vampire was that snake-quick.

From the now open door, a man walked out: equally tall and dark, yet with short black hair. He scowled at Zane. “If you can’t be civil with our guests, I can take you off the team.”