Halloween Memories
Paranormal Haven
Halloween at the Haven—2013
(Between HUNTED and ADEN)
CYN STEPPED INTO the private elevator and pushed the up button for the next floor. Actually it was the only other floor, since this elevator only had two stops—Raphael’s office and their private suite on the basement level. The doors opened and she paused in the act of shrugging into her jacket. Raphael was sitting behind his desk, reading, his dark head bent, soft light from the desk lamp caressing the sharp edges of his cheekbones, almost as if he’d been posed that way. He still took her breath away sometimes. He was just so beautiful.
The elevator doors whacked her as they tried to close, and Raphael looked up, a brilliant smile crossing his face. That definitely took her breath away. Every damn time.
She smiled back, unable to do anything else.
“My Cyn,” he crooned, his voice a midnight purr that was uniquely his. “Are we going, then?”
Cyn laughed, hearing the unvoiced question behind his words. They were headed for a fundraiser this evening, which wasn’t something Raphael particularly enjoyed. Usually, she’d have given him a pass. Actually, she’d have liked to give herself a pass, too, but this one was for Jessica’s House, which was a shelter for runaway teens that had been founded by her friend Lucia Shinn. Luci always insisted that Cyn had founded it, too, but the work had all been Luci’s. The only thing Cyn had done was write a check for her share of the seed money.
But, whenever Luci had a fundraiser, Cyn was there, and this time, she’d asked Raphael to come with her. She just didn’t feel like missing him tonight. A lot had been going on in the world of Vampire lately, and from what Raphael had told her, it was only going to get worse. She had a feeling things were going to get unpleasantly complicated before the end, and she wanted to take advantage of every relaxed minute they had left together.
Raphael stood and came toward her, moving in that graceful, loose-hipped way of his, like a big cat on the prowl. It almost made her re-think her plans to go out. He knew it, too, the bastard. His smile grew.
“Yeah, yeah,” she said, fisting her hand in his long-sleeved T-shirt when he got close enough. She pulled him in and went up on her toes to kiss him. “You’re gorgeous and you know it. Who’s with us tonight?”
Raphael put both hands on her hips, drawing her close for a second, longer kiss. Cyn’s breath ran out in a long sigh against his mouth and she leaned against his broad chest. If tonight’s event had been for anyone else, she’d have dragged him back into the elevator and had his clothes off before they hit the basement.
“Juro and his brother will be driving us,” Raphael said, answering her question. He circled his arm around her waist and started for the door. “And I’m sure there will be others slipped in among the guests. You know how Juro gets about security.”
“An extra gorgeous vampire or two hanging around the party,” she said thoughtfully. “Just think of them as party decorations. They’ll make all the rich ladies feel good about themselves, which means they’ll be more likely to write big checks. This is all good.”
Juro met them downstairs near the double-glass front doors, and Cyn could see his brother already outside, standing by the open driver’s door of the limo, waiting.
“Lucia asked me if you were coming with us tonight,” Cyn commented to Juro as they passed the big vampire and went outside, heading down the stairs to the limo. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes cut in her direction. There was a little bit of warning in that look, but something else, too. Interest. Cyn knew Luci had a thing for Juro, but she was pretty sure Juro had a thing for Luci, too. Unfortunately, they were both being very high school about it all.
Cyn rolled her eyes and slid into the backseat. Raphael followed, immediately pulling her close and leaning in to murmur, “Leave him alone. He’ll get to it when he’s ready.”
“Luci’ll be an old woman by that time,” she muttered, and Raphael laughed.
The trip was as uneventful as any drive on the LA freeways could be, which meant there were only the usual traffic jams. The party was already in full swing when they arrived. Jessica’s House was exactly that—a big, old house in a formerly genteel neighborhood of upper middle-class homes. Most had been remodeled and turned into apartments, so no one had yelled too loudly when Luci and Cyn had bought and renovated one of the houses, turning it into a teen shelter.
Parking was always at a premium on the street—worse tonight because of the party—but Juro didn’t worry about rules when it came to Raphael’s security. He double-parked the limo right in front of the house, and they all disembarked.
Cyn and Raphael paused for a moment, admiring . . . well, perhaps not admiring, but certainly noticing the decorations. Luci had clearly given her charges free rein, and they’d gone to town. The very attractive two-story home had been transformed into a classic haunted house, with draped cobwebs, a crone witch, and dim lighting on the raised porch. The perfectly nice lawn had been turned into a rutted graveyard, and several of the graves seemed to be in the process of regurgitating their occupants. And all to the sound of screams and howling ghosts.
“No one knows we’re here, yet,” Raphael observed. “We can still go home.”
Cyn sighed. Halloween had never been her favorite holiday. She didn’t have the fond memories that so many others had, of trick or treating, and wacky costume parties. The private boarding school where she’d spent most of her youth hadn’t bothered with such things, and by the time Cyn was old enough to make her own decisions, she’d decided costumes weren’t for her. She stepped back as a costumed couple started up the walkway to the porch. Watching them as they disappeared into the house, Cyn figured that while she wasn’t looking forward to the party, things could certainly be worse. At least she and Raphael weren’t dressed like pirates.
“As long as we’re here, we might as well go in,” she said reluctantly. “We don’t have to stay long.”
Raphael leaned over and touched his lips to her temple. “Courage, my Cyn.” And she could hear the laughter in his voice.
The house was crowded with partygoers, mostly in costume, and Cyn had to laugh at the look on Raphael’s face when a sixtyish man walked by, dressed as Dracula, complete with dripping fangs, a red-lined satin cape, and a suitably buxom blood slave companion.
All that Cyn could think was . . . if these people only knew. The scariest guy in the house tonight was standing next to her, wearing a pair of nicely faded 501s, a black T-shirt, and a leather jacket.
Of course, costume or not, it was impossible for Raphael not to draw attention, especially female attention. He was well over six foot, with broad shoulders, the face of an angel, and truly black eyes that looked at you and saw clear to your soul. What wasn’t obvious was that he was the most powerful vampire lord in North America, and probably the world. She wondered what the Dracula wannabe would think about that. She knew what his buxom slave thought, because the woman was all but drooling as she sidled closer to Raphael. Cyn stepped between them and looped her arm through Raphael’s, clearly staking her claim. He was hers and she was keeping him.
“Cyn!” Luci’s voice had Cyn turning to see her oldest friend coming down the stairs. Luci looked more like one of her teenaged charges than the responsible adult head of the house. Her straight, black hair hung in a fall down her back, and she was wearing a French maid’s outfit that accented her exotic looks and made her legs seem a mile long. Cyn slid a glance at Juro and saw him staring at Luci with an intensity he usually reserved for enemy vampires. She nudged Raphael in the side and noticed his mouth tightening slightly as he fought a smile.
“Hey, Luce,” Cyn said, grinning. “How’s the schmoozing going?”
“Cynthia,” she scolded. “Where are your costumes?”
“How long have you known me?” she demanded. “Have you ever seen me wear a costume?”
“Spoilsport,” Luci muttered as she hit the bottom of the stairs and came over for the requisite exchange of hugs. Luci believed in the power of hugs. Cyn . . . not so much. But she believed in Luci, so they hugged, and then Luci stepped back and nodded a greeting in Raphael’s direction. Raphael nodded back.
“Well,” Luci went on, “you look very nice, anyway. Thank you for coming.”
“As if we would miss this,” Cyn said quickly, not quite trusting Raphael’s dry humor and what he might say. He gave her an amused glance, and she knew she’d been right. But then, she also caught Luci tilting her head to see behind Raphael. Cyn snickered. “Juro’s here somewhere. So’s his brother. A smorgasbord of hunky Japanese vamp.”
Luci hissed a wordless warning, something she did quite well. Must be all that practice she got with a house full of teenagers.
“Is Liz coming?” Cyn asked, dutifully changing the subject. Liz was the completely human sister of a young vampire whom Cyn had rescued recently. Mirabelle had been a held prisoner by Jabril, the vampire lord who’d made her a vampire as a way of controlling her substantial inheritance. Liz had been his prisoner, too, but she’d managed to escape on her own. Mirabelle hadn’t been so lucky. Jabril had turned her on her eighteenth birthday, thus barely skimming the edge of legality. Jabril hadn’t taken kindly to Cyn’s interference in Mirabelle’s life, but then, Cyn hadn’t taken kindly to anything about Jabril. And he’d made the mistake of assuming all women were as useless as the way he treated them. That had been his final mistake, as it turned out.
“Liz is here somewhere,” Luci told Cyn. “She’s heading to NYU in January, you know.”
“I heard. Mirabelle’s happy for her. She’ll miss her, but she’s happy for her.”
“It’s complicated with them,” Luci said quietly, with a glance at Raphael, as if this was something he didn’t know or understand. It pissed Cyn off.
“We all understand that, Luce,” Cyn said, a little defensively. She leaned into Raphael’s side, and he slipped his arm around her, his long fingers resting on her hip. The truth was that Raphael understood the difficult situation with Mirabelle and her sister Elizabeth better than anyone, and he took his responsibilities for the sisters very seriously. It definitely was complicated that Mirabelle was a vampire, and Liz was not. Liz was the younger sister, but in a very few years, no one who saw them would recognize that. Mirabelle would forever look eighteen years old, no matter how long she lived—and she could very well live for hundreds of years, especially if she remained under Raphael’s protection. Liz, on the other hand, would likely marry, have children, grandchildren, grow old, and someday . . . die.
The sisters loved each other, but that was a huge divide for them to cross. Cyn was sure it was one of the main reasons why Liz was going to college on the other side of the country. Mirabelle, on the other hand, had to remain in Raphael’s territory, preferably close to Raphael, himself. At least, for now. And, of course, she had to attend a college that made it possible for her to matriculate at night. It was possible, especially when one had the kind of trust-fund money that Mirabelle did, but it certainly limited one’s choices. Mirabelle wouldn’t be going to NYU, even if she’d wanted to.
But what amazed Cyn was that Luci, for all her natural empathy, underestimated Raphael’s ability to feel human emotion. Too many people looked at his public façade and thought that was the total of Raphael. Cold and unfeeling. But Cyn was the woman who lived in his heart, and she knew just how hotly he burned.
They’d walked through the house and into the backyard where the main party was. Luci was still with them, and Cyn was about to remind her friend of Raphael’s obvious care for the sisters, when raised voices drew her attention to the other side of the patio. Raphael tensed just enough for Cyn to feel it, although all anyone else would have seen was him leaning casually against the porch support post, with one arm draped loosely around Cyn. But Cyn noticed the difference. She also caught the quick look from Juro to Raphael, asking wordlessly if he should intervene, and the tiny shake of Raphael’s head telling him no.
Cyn frowned, wondering why Juro would think—Her thoughts stuttered to a halt when the crowds shifted and she saw the source of the shouting. Mirabelle had arrived, but she wasn’t the one making a fuss. That was the asshole standing in front of her. Cyn hadn’t heard the beginning of his rant, but she heard the end of it.
“. . . telling you, she’s a fucking vampire! Is that what you’re doing here? Feeding our children to that?” the jerk demanded, pointing an accusing finger at Mirabelle, before twisting around and searching the crowd for someone to agree with him.
The jerk must have known Mirabelle from somewhere else, maybe school, because there was nothing to distinguish her as a vampire tonight. It wasn’t like she was standing there with fangs dripping and speaking in a Transylvanian accent or anything. Actually, she looked really good. She’d put on about fifteen pounds since Cyn had rescued her from Jabril, and she’d needed the weight. Jabril had kept her on a starvation diet, part of his control over her. But now, she looked healthy and happy, her long hair returned to its natural blond color, courtesy of Cyn’s own stylist. It was nearly impossible for blondes to remain blond when there was no sunlight to be had. A vampire either colored her (or his) hair, or settled for a permanent dull brown.
But even more than Mirabelle’s physical appearance, it was her attitude that made Cyn’s heart warm. Gone was the terrified little mouse that Jabril had created. That Mirabelle would have been shrinking in terror from her asshole accuser. This new Mirabelle was beautiful and confident, her eyes flashing, her smile wide as she politely responded to the jerk’s irrational rant.
“Ms. Shinn and the others do no such thing,” Mirabelle said gently, her voice clear in the sudden silence surrounding her. “And, in your heart, you know that, don’t you? As for me, I’m here to support the wonderful work of Jessica’s House, just as we all are.”
It all sounded quite straightforward, but Cyn caught the slight reddish gleam behind Mirabelle’s dark, blue eyes, heard the gentle rhythm of her words. In a flash, Cyn realized something. This was a test for Mirabelle. Raphael could have subdued the rude human without moving an inch or muttering a sound. Juro could have done so with a subtle word or two. But Raphael had clearly decided that they would wait and see if Mirabelle could handle it herself. The ability to manipulate humans in situations like this was a skill Mirabelle would need if she hoped to move up in the ranks of Raphael’s vampires. It had to be so subtle that no one, not even the human being manipulated, was aware.
The idiot drew back with a sucked-in breath, and Cyn thought Mirabelle had failed, but then he raised his head and offered her his arm, with a murmured apology. Mirabelle looped hers through his. “Did you know my sister was saved by the team here?” she asked conversationally and steered her accoster deeper into the crowded yard with its cobweb-draped trees.
Rude guy covered Mirabelle’s hand with his own and smiled as he said, “Is your sister as beautiful as you are?” The crowd, which had been holding its collective breath—mostly because they didn’t want to miss a word—blew out a sigh of relief, and, with a few mumbled comments, quickly returned to their pre-confrontation conversational hum.
“Crisis averted,” Cyn whispered, touching her lips to Raphael’s jaw. “Yay for Mirabelle.”
“She’s doing well,” Raphael agreed. “But then, you knew she would. It’s the reason you brought her to me in the first place.”
“I brought her to you because she needed someone strong enough to protect her from that asshole Jabril,” Cyn corrected. “But . . . you’re right. The minute she agreed to climb into my truck, I knew she had a backbone.”
He was silent a moment, surveying the crowd, then he said, “If I write a check, can we leave now?”
“It’s not only about checks, fang boy. I’m part-owner. I have to show the flag.”
“It’s a very big check.”
Cyn laughed despite herself. The truth was, she didn’t think Luci would miss her. Cyn wasn’t any good at schmoozing, and, just passing through the crowd, they’d been here long enough to be seen by anyone who cared.
“Fine. What do you have mind?”
Raphael leaned down and whispered what his plans were for her once they got home. And Cyn had to fight the urge to press even closer to him and rub her body all along his.
“Right, then,” she said briskly. “Let’s go. We can take the side gate to the street. It’s faster. And don’t worry about the check. I’ll drop it off tomorrow.”
And that was how Cyn and Raphael ended up creating a brand new, and quite spectacular, memory for Halloween.
The End