Haven 5: Invincible Read online

  Haven 5

  Invincible

  Aslan is used to everyone considering him to be flighty, clueless, and confused. That doesn’t mean it’s true, but the constant cacophony of voices inside his head makes it kind of hard to pay attention to anything else around him.

  Torren Braddock has his hands full as a new elder, trying to clean up the mess the former Council members left for him. Adding a mate to his agenda is the last thing he wants to do, but he can’t deny the way Aslan draws him in like a moth to a flame.

  Torren is meant to be his champion, his protector. Aslan is sure of it. When the voices in his head grow louder and more demanding, he realizes something big is coming, something that has the potential to destroy everything—and he’ll need his new mate at his side if he hopes to survive it.

  Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Paranormal, Vampires/Werewolves

  Length: 44,149 words

  INVINCIBLE

  Haven 5

  Gabrielle Evans

  EVERLASTING CLASSIC

  MANLOVE

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Everlasting Classic ManLove

  INVINCIBLE

  Copyright © 2012 by Gabrielle Evans

  E-book ISBN: 1-61926-371-8

  First E-book Publication: February 2012

  Cover design by Jinger Heaston

  All art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

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  INVINCIBLE

  Haven 5

  GABRIELLE EVANS

  Copyright © 2012

  Prologue

  How the hell he’d gotten himself into his current situation, Torren Braddock couldn’t recall. The last thing he remembered was stepping off the plane at the landing strip just outside of Las Vegas. Jonas and Nicholas had been on the plane growling at each other, which was nothing new, and Torren had needed some air.

  The minute his boots made contact with the tarmac, everything went dark. He’d woken several times, each time feeling worse than the previous one. What the hell was wrong with him? His head throbbed, his mouth felt sticky, and he couldn’t move his arms or legs.

  The world was blurry and unfocused through his half-lidded eyes, but he was pretty certain he was in a cemetery. The sun beat down on him, warming his face, but Torren felt there was a reason he should be concerned about the sun. He just couldn’t remember what that reason was.

  His thought process was disjointed as though he was wading through miles of mental sludge. There was someone beside him, but he couldn’t make his neck muscles work so he could turn his head to find out who it was. There had been three people with him on that plane. Four, if he counted the pilot. Five, after Bannon Murphy met them with the vehicle.

  If it was one of those five who rested beside him, he hoped it was Bannon. Not that he wished the shifter any harm, but he’d just remembered why the sun was bad. He was traveling with vampires.

  So, that meant if it was Bannon beside him, they were completely screwed until the moon rose. Fantastic.

  With a lot of effort, Torren finally forced his head to turn, unsurprised to see Bannon tied to the tombstone he was propped up against. Where were the others, though? Since his companion appeared to be unconscious with his chin resting firmly on his chest, Torren wouldn’t be getting any answers from him.

  Giving up, he closed his eyes, and drifted out of consciousness again. The next time he awoke, the cemetery was dark, cold, and eerily quiet.

  “Ah, you’re awake.”

  Torren didn’t have the strength to turn his head and face the voice.

  “Where?” he croaked. The one word sounded slurred, harsh, and raspy.

  “Oh, your little vampire friends?” the man asked with amusement.

  “Not to worry. They’re safe for now and will be joining us soon enough. You should just rest for now.” Someone crouched down in his line of vision, but Torren couldn’t focus and the night was too dark to make out any discernible features.

  Something stuck his arm, right in the crook of his elbow, and then everything went dark again.

  * * * *

  Something had awoken him. He was sure of it, but he couldn’t figure out what had disturbed his sleep. Sitting up in bed, Aslan rubbed at his eyes and pushed his hair back from his face.

  “Who are you?”

  Snapping his eyes open, Aslan’s breath caught in his throat, and he scrambled backward, pressing himself against the headboard. A man he’d never met before stood beside his bed, towering over him with a frown. His long, black hair fell over his shoulders, his clothes appeared dirty and ripped, and he was so massive that Aslan was pretty sure the guy’s muscles had muscles.

  Shaking his head rapidly, he pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his shins. It wasn’t the stranger’s enormous size that scared the hell out of him. It was the fact that he could see right through him to his door across the room. There was a kind of bluish glow about him that reminded Aslan of starlight, but it wasn’t nearly as peaceful.

  “Who are you?” the guy repeated.

  “Aslan,” he squeaked.

  “Aslan, I need your help.” The man was all business now as he began pacing the floor, linking hi
s hands behind his back. “We are in a cemetery in Nevada. I don’t think we are far from the airstrip or the plane, but I can’t be sure. I need you to tell Stavion to send someone.” He stopped pacing and crossed his arms over his chest when Aslan didn’t answer. “Do you understand?”

  No, he didn’t understand any of this. All he knew was that there was an angry ghost in his room going on about cemeteries and saying he needed help. “Who’s with you?” he whispered, his voice quivering slightly.

  “There’s no time. You have to go to Stavion now. Get out of bed and go, Aslan.” He took a step forward, reaching out as though to touch him, and Aslan reacted accordingly.

  He squeezed his eyes closed, wrapped his arms over his head, and screamed until he thought his throat would bleed. When he finally managed to get himself under control, the ghost was gone.

  “Shit, shit, shit.” Throwing the blankets back, he launched himself out of bed, darted for the door, and barreled out into the hall. Scared, shaking, and feeling like he was going to vomit, he didn’t immediately see Galen until he smacked right into his friend. “I saw a ghost,” Aslan blurted at once.

  “Well, I saw Bannon,” Galen countered.

  They stared at each other for just a moment before both speaking again at the same time. “They’re in trouble.”

  Chapter One

  “We have twenty-seven days until Halloween. On average, it takes you approximately two weeks to find one person. We’re looking for three. Do you think this is a goddamn game?” Torren yelled the last question, slamming his fist against the doorframe of the entrance to Bannon’s bedroom.

  He needed to find his brothers, and Bannon Murphy was the best candidate to help him. The man’s resistant attitude was grating on his nerves, though. As the newly appointed elder of the Magiks, Torren was by all rights Bannon’s boss. Finding Torren’s brothers and the missing faerie, Camdin Maywater, was Bannon’s job. Why was he being such an asshole about everything?

  “Enough,” Bannon growled angrily. His attention turned to the smaller man on the bed, and he crawled up the mattress to pull his mate into his arms. “Not to worry, darlin’. Torren is just a bit out of sorts. No one is going to hurt ya.”

  Torren felt about three inches tall as he let out a deep breath and dropped his head. He hadn’t meant to scare Galen. He just wanted to find his family, and to do that, he needed Bannon’s cooperation. With such little time left, he really needed Galen’s special skills as well. If they combined their powers, the pair would be unstoppable.

  Still, that didn’t excuse his behavior. “He’s right. I’m sorry, Galen. This elder business is a lot more stressful than I thought it would be.” Gods, that was an understatement. Why had he thought he was cut out for this? “Add my personal issues on top of that, and I’m not really myself these days. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “Galen? Are you okay?” a small voice asked from behind Torren.

  “I heard shouting and banging. You’re not hurt are you?” Turning slowly, Torren watched as a young man even smaller than Galen slid past him and crawled up on the bed beside Bannon.

  He tucked his legs under him while he talked to his friend, and Torren couldn’t help but follow his every movement.

  That was Aslan. He vaguely recognized him from the night he’d sought help while being imprisoned in Nevada. Up until that moment, he hadn’t been able to work out why his astral body had appeared to the guy, but he had no problem understanding it now.

  Aslan was his mate. He felt it as sure as he felt his own heart beating. His skin tingled, his hands began to shake, and it was as though a thousand tiny explosions were detonating inside his body.

  The only person besides his family that he’d have a close enough connection with to travel outside of his body to deliver a message to was his mate.

  Since he didn’t know where his brothers were hiding, and was afraid of causing them harm if he could reach them, Torren had been trying to send a message to Stavion instead. He’d been very shocked to find himself in Aslan’s bedroom, staring down at the most gorgeous creature he’d ever seen.

  Silky, black curls that brushed just below his jaw showcased the long, slender column on his neck. While he was small, probably no more than five-four or five-five, his muscles were defined—long, lean, bunching in just the right places as he moved.

  Then as if in slow motion, he turned his head, pinning Torren with big, round eyes the color of melted milk chocolate. “You’re being very rude,” he chastised. His voice was quiet, soft, almost musical, and Torren found himself unable to answer for a second.

  “I apologize. Did I frighten you?” He didn’t want Aslan to be afraid of him. In just the two minutes since the man had entered the room, Torren already felt an overwhelming need to protect him and keep him safe.

  “A little,” Aslan admitted but shrugged. “I was mostly worried about Galen. You’re my mate, right? I’ve seen you before, but you were more glowy and see-through. I like you better this way.” He tilted his head to the side and grinned innocently.

  “Thank you?” Torren wasn’t sure, but he thought he’d been complimented.

  “Oh, you’re very welcome. If we’re mates, why haven’t you come to see me? Don’t you like me?”

  What a strange question. The underlying hurt in Aslan’s cheery voice was unacceptable, however. He should never feel sad or unwanted. “I’m afraid I don’t know you at all. I’d like to change that, though.” Torren would like to get to know him on several flat surfaces, but he figured he should probably keep that little thought to himself for the time being.

  “Okay.” Aslan bobbed his head, stood to his feet on the mattress, and jumped at Torren. Shocked at the man’s behavior, Torren reacted on instinct, catching his mate and holding him protectively to his chest. “Let’s go to my room,” Aslan suggested.

  Completely entranced by the little imp, Torren just nodded dazedly and followed his mate’s directions as he walked them across the hall and into Aslan’s room. He wasn’t sure how they made it there safely because he couldn’t take his eyes off of those perfectly shaped, pale lips.

  “I’m going to kiss you now,” Aslan warned before jerking him forward and crushing their mouths together.

  Torren had never met anyone as bold and forward as Aslan. It was refreshing, if a bit disconcerting. When he parted his lips to allow Aslan entrance and their tongues brushed together for the first time, Torren forgot to think about anything but devouring the man in his arms.

  Kissing Aslan should have been an Olympic sport. The guy was everywhere and everywhere in hurry. His hands moved frantically over Torren’s shoulders and chest, and his hips thrust in jerky movements. He sucked on Torren’s tongue, bit his bottom lip, and growled fiercely when Torren didn’t respond with equal exuberance.

  “Why won’t you kiss me back?” he demanded breathlessly a moment later.

  “I’m trying,” Torren growled back. How was he supposed to kiss the man properly when he wouldn’t be still?

  “Am I doing it wrong?” Aslan whispered, ducking his head and peeking up at Torren through his long, dark lashes.

  Sitting on the side of his mate’s bed with Aslan in his lap, Torren cupped his face in both hands and smiled softly. The smaller man had no idea what he was doing, and was trying to make up for it with enthusiasm. Now that Torren understood, it was easier to steer them where they needed to go.

  “Slow,” he said quietly, dipping his head forward and brushing his lips gently across Aslan’s. “It’s not a race.” He pressed their lips together again, a little more insistently this time. “Can you feel the difference?”

  A sweet moan escaped through Aslan’s swollen lips, and his eyes drifted closed as he relaxed into Torren’s hold, allowing him to control the kiss. With more tenderness and care than he’d ever shown any of his previous lovers, Torren palmed the back of the man’s head and swept his tongue inside the warm depths of Aslan’s mouth.

  He kept his movements easy, lang
uid, and undemanding. It didn’t take long for Aslan to catch on, and soon their tongues were moving together in a slippery, sensual glide. Torren’s dick swelled inside his jeans, straining at his zipper, but he ignored it. This wasn’t about sex, not yet anyway. They’d have plenty of time for that later.

  Unfortunately, it was going to have to be much later, because he had a job to do and missing people to find. There was also the issue of his children to discuss—though, he’d still not met them. He’d only just met Aslan, and already there were so many things that stood between them.

  “I need to talk to Bannon.” He pecked at Aslan’s lips in apology.

  Aslan shrugged and popped up from his lap like a jack-in-the-box.

  “Okay. I’ll wait here.”

  “Umm, yes.” Every time Aslan opened his mouth, Torren just grew more confused. He hoped it wasn’t going to be a recurring theme in their relationship. “I’ll be back.” He just didn’t qualify his return with a time frame. Shitty of him, but despite what everyone thought, he really didn’t have all the answers.

  * * * *

  Torren had said he’d be back. He’d even called him caro before he’d left the estate that night . Aslan hadn’t known what that meant, but when he looked it up on the computer in the library, he found out that it was Italian for “dear.” So, that meant it was an endearment.

  Torren had said he’d be back and called him by an endearment.

  He never came back, though. It had been almost a week, and he never came back. He didn’t even call. Hell, Aslan would have been happy to see him as that ghost thing he did. The only possible conclusion he could come to was that Torren didn’t want him.