Four-Letter Words Read online

  Haven 8

  Four-Letter Words

  Zasha Gershwin lives a rigidly controlled life. He doesn’t see anything wrong with being prepared and organized, and he certainly doesn’t have time for such frivolous things as love. He cares for Thane, and he’s certainly attracted to the witch, but that’s just how the mating bond works.

  While his mate may not remember their previous life together, Thane Braddock has no trouble recalling every moment, right up to their tragic end. Now, he has a second chance to make everything right. Unfortunately, he’s making all new mistakes this time around.

  Evil lurks to the west, spreading its shadow across the desert, and the races hover on the verge of war. When the Braddocks are called to answer the rising threat, Thane and Zasha’s turbulent relationship will be pushed to its breaking point. Can they rekindle the old flame before it’s too late? Or is history destined to repeat itself?

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

  Length: 55,404 words

  FOUR-LETTER WORDS

  Haven 8

  Gabrielle Evans

  EVERLASTING CLASSIC

  MANLOVE

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Everlasting Classic ManLove

  FOUR-LETTER WORDS

  Copyright © 2013 by Gabrielle Evans

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-62740-023-7

  First E-book Publication: May 2013

  Cover design by Sloan Winters

  All art and logo copyright © 2013 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.

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  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  FOUR-LETTER WORDS

  Haven 8

  GABRIELLE EVANS

  Copyright © 2013

  Chapter One

  “Varik and Demos have arrived.” Zasha scrolled through his mental Rolodex, recalling Leader Tuesday’s other obligations. “You have a phone conference with the leader of the Phoenix coven at midnight. The owner of After Hours has requested a meeting with you at three to discuss his yearly lease.”

  “Yes, yes,” Leader October Tuesday answered as they strolled through the corridors on the way to the foyer to meet their guests. “Tell him I’ll be happy to meet with him.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  “The guard at the front gate said Varik and Demos have brought guests with them,” Gideon, Enforcer and second-in-command of the coven, added. “How should we proceed?”

  Zasha glanced up at the Enforcer and rolled his eyes. “Varik and Demos are former members of our coven and dear friends. They wouldn’t come here with malicious intent.”

  “They also turned their back on us to form their own coven,” Axton, another Enforcer, added. He walked two steps behind everyone else, constantly scanning the surrounding area as though he expected dust bunnies to pop out from beneath the furniture and strangle them all.

  “Relax.” October adjusted his tie and cleared his throat. “Zasha is right. They are here to ask for help, which we are happy to provide.”

  As Leader Tuesday’s personal assistant, it was Zasha’s job to always appear calm, collected, and prepared with an answer to any situation. Entering the foyer, his shoulders were back, his spine was straight, and he wore a vague, disinterested smile on his lips. On the inside, however, he was almost giddy with excitement to see his old friends. He only wished Raven would have joined them on their visit. Gods, he missed that idiot.

  Leader Tuesday walked forward to meet their guests with outstretched arms. “Demos, Varik, it’s so good to see you again!” He nodded at Varik’s returned greeting, indicating without words that the vampire and those who accompanied him were welcomed in Snake River. “You remember Axton, Gideon, and Zasha, of course.”

  There might have been words said after that, but Zasha couldn’t hear them. He couldn’t hear anything except the pounding of his own heart. Currents of energy crawled over his skin, up his spine, and across the nape of his neck. Standing amidst their visitors was a man who didn’t really look like he belonged. He was much smaller than the others, clearly not an Enforcer, and Zasha was drawn to him like ants to sugar.

  The guy was attractive with his long hair and delicate features, but he really wasn’t Zasha’s type. It didn’t matter, though. Something had grabbed ahold of him and wouldn’t let go, insistently tugging him toward the stranger.

  Mine.

  His fangs elongated with such violence that it pulled a gasp from him, and his fingers curled into fists as he watched another stranger in the group place a possessive hand on his mate’s back. Instincts ruled him, propelling him across the room where he pulled his mate into his arms and embedded his fangs in the fragrant skin of his throat.

  * * * *

  “Please state your name for The Council.”

  Approaching the dais where the elders sat above him, Zasha clasped his hands together in front of him and squared his shoulders. The Council would see he was right. He just had to remain calm and trust that the law was on his side. “Zasha Aleric Gershwin, member of the Snake River Coven,” he stated clearly so that everyone in attendance could hear him.

  “Mr. Gershwin, can you please inform the members of this gathering why you are here?” He’d never had the pleasure of meeting Elder Cortez, the vampire representati
ve, but Leader Tuesday spoke very highly of him. That was enough for Zasha.

  “The werewolf Enforcer, Kieran Delaney, has claimed what is rightfully mine. Lynk Braddock is my true mate, and as such, I wish to file a formal complaint against Mr. Delaney for being in violation of one of our most sacred laws.” He’d also like to rip the bastard’s throat out, but he felt it best to keep that bit to himself. “If he refuses to relinquish his claim to Lynk, I ask permission from The Council to challenge him—as is my right.”

  Kieran Delaney was twice his size and would likely beat him to a pulp, but Zasha had to try. He’d been utterly miserable since Lynk had denied him and run off with the werewolf. It was as though he could still feel the witch, like the very air he breathed was charged with Lynk’s essence.

  “Why a challenge?” Cortez asked. “Have you tried proving your right to Mr. Braddock?”

  “No, sir. I was not given the chance.” If he’d been allowed to prove his bond with Lynk, he wouldn’t have to put up with the hassle of this hearing.

  “Well, you have it now.” Elder Cortez nodded and lifted a hand, beckoning Lynk to the front of the room. “Mr. Braddock, come forward if you will.”

  Zasha’s heart picked up in rhythm as he watched his mate glide along the aisle toward him. Though not technically Zasha’s type, the man was beautiful, and there was a grace about him that most could only envy but never imitate.

  Another of the elders asked him to state his name, and Zasha found himself entranced when Lynk spoke, drawn in by the musical cadence of his tone. “Okay, Mr. Gershwin, you may proceed,” Elder Cortez said once they’d announced the rules for the test.

  After a few starts and stops and the interference of that damn werewolf, Zasha was feeling confident that things were finally turning in his favor. As his mate, Lynk would be immune to his compulsion, and soon, everyone would see they were meant to be together.

  If Lynk was being brainwashed by Kieran, however, there was a good chance he’d try to sabotage the test. Therefore, Zasha had to issue an instruction that Lynk would never perform unless he was truly compelled. “Undress,” he ordered, staring unblinkingly into his mate’s eyes and drawing Lynk’s mind into his own.

  At once, Lynk reached for the buttons on his shirt, fumbling with them as he popped them open one at a time. His lips were slightly parted, and he stared straight ahead with a vacant, robotic glaze to his eyes.

  Half the buttons had been undone, revealing the smooth, flawless skin of his chest when Kieran stood to his feet and shouted from the back of the room. “Lynk, stop. Come here now.”

  Zasha frowned when Lynk stopped undressing and turned to float back down the aisle to the werewolf. For a moment, he’d been convinced that Lynk was truly under his spell, but if that was true, he shouldn’t have responded to Kieran’s call.

  There was an exchange of words that Zasha couldn’t hear, but his irritation grew when Lynk shuddered and blinked, shaking his head as though to dispel unwanted thoughts. “How did I get back here? Did it work?”

  “He’s faking of course!” Zasha shouted, jabbing a single finger at his mate. “They planned the entire thing!” Lynk was a damn good actor, and it hurt that he would go to such lengths to refuse him, but Zasha knew he could make Lynk happy if the guy would just give him a chance. “I demand a challenge.”

  “Enough!” Leader Tuesday rose to his feet, giving Zasha a hard, icy glare, clearly expecting him to shut his trap. “I apologize. I only supported Zasha because I believed his claim to be true. It is what a good leader does, and as someone who has lost his own mate, I did not want to see a member of my coven endure that. I can see now that Zasha is mistaken, and so was I.”

  “What?” Zasha gasped. It hurt almost as much to know that his mentor and leader didn’t support him in his quest for justice. “No! I can feel him. I can feel his soul tugging at mine.” It was a low, constant ache that never gave him any peace. Instead of waning when he slept, the invisible connection grew stronger, invading his dreams until he was nearly mad with wanting his mate.

  As he fumed inside his own head, the elders conversed with Leader Tuesday, though it was clear that they all considered the matter closed. Well, Zasha wasn’t going down without a fight, even if he had to go into battle alone.

  “Where is Thane Braddock?” Kieran demanded, pushing Lynk ahead of him as they approached the dais again.

  “Excuse me?” October appeared just as perplexed as Zasha felt. “Thane Braddock?”

  Lynk took a deep breath and let it out slowly before he spoke, mostly likely to calm his nerves. Zasha didn’t know much about the man, but he got the impression that Lynk didn’t like confrontation. “My brother, Thane, is being held in a well on your lands. He’s been there for several months now, being starved and fed from while he wastes away.”

  The temperature of the room should have dropped twenty degrees just from the cold look on October’s face. Zasha wasn’t sure he bought it, but he knew his leader would take the accusation seriously. Sure enough, a moment later, he had both Gideon and Axton on their way back to the coven with strict orders to go straight to the well near the windmills and not breathe a word of their destination to anyone.

  To Zasha’s surprise, Lynk turned to him with a determined gaze. “I think there is something that you need to know.”

  “Does it have to do with why you are pretending that you cannot feel the connection between us?” He forced the words out through gritted teeth while he stared daggers at the werewolf behind his mate.

  “Yes, actually.” Lynk gave him a charming smile, but there was a steely glint in his dark eyes. “I am not pretending anything, however. I do not feel a connection between us because one simply does not exist. Kieran is my mate—my destined mate.”

  Zasha growled and took a step forward. He had no intentions of harming Lynk, but he was going to climb Kieran Delaney like a spider monkey and gouge his eyes out for brainwashing the guy.

  He made it no more than half a step when he was stopped by October’s hand to his chest. “You will calm down and listen to what the boy has to say.”

  Lynk arched an eyebrow at the term “boy,” but when he spoke, he addressed Zasha. “Thane is my twin. We share an energy, which means our magic is twinned and more powerful when we’re together. We can even speak telepathically if we’re close enough to one another.”

  That was great, and Zasha was sorry Lynk’s brother was missing. He didn’t see how it pertained to their situation, however.

  “I think you are feeling Thane’s energy flowing from me,” Lynk continued, and he sounded exasperated, as though he found Zasha kind of dense. “I don’t know for sure, but I believe that is why you think I’m your mate while it is really Thane who you should be concentrating on.”

  “Thane? The man you just said was being held captive in a well? He’s been this close to me for months now?”

  Now he got it. Now it made sense, especially considering he’d been feeling what he’d thought was Lynk’s energy for weeks on end. He’d wanted to believe their connection was just that strong, but honestly, he shouldn’t have been able to feel the witch’s magical current with Lynk so far away from him.

  There was also the matter of the restless nights he’d spent alone in his bed, convinced Lynk’s essence was tugging at him from miles away. Again, he’d only been deluding himself and ignoring the truth staring him in the face. The magic should have lessened during sleep, not intensified—unless it was Thane he’d been sensing.

  When he rested, his mind was more vulnerable than ever and his subconscious took over. If what Lynk said was true, the energy he’d been feeling was the fated bond he had with Thane. It was ingrained in his nature to want to protect his mate, and their connection was screaming out to him, begging for help, even when Thane couldn’t.

  Zasha had just been too stubborn and single-minded to listen to his instincts. He’d been so bent on justice and revenge that he hadn’t stopped to consider a possible alternative f
or what he’d been feeling. Looking back, he could admit that a mating with Lynk had never been that appealing. Sure, the guy was attractive, but there had just been something missing. Still, he’d been too ignorant, selfish, and prideful to admit he could be wrong.

  Thane Braddock was being held captive right under his nose and had been trapped inside his own personal hell for months. It seemed illogical that an outsider could or would use their coven lands for such a terrible crime, leading Zasha to the conclusion it was someone he knew—possibly a friend—who was hurting his mate.

  His canines dropped, his fingers curled into claws, and an unfamiliar growl rolled through his chest. Rage, white-hot and all-consuming, enveloped him, coursed through his blood, and elevated his body temperature.

  “Someone I trusted is hurting him, and that someone will pay for it.”

  * * * *

  His head lulled against the stone wall as he fought to keep himself upright. The recent rain had flooded the normally dry well, and the icy water had already climbed to his chest. The sun had risen twice since the last time he’d slept, but he couldn’t risk it. If he closed his eyes for even a minute, there was a good chance he’d drown before he could fight his way out of the murky water.

  Footsteps sounded in the distance, thundering over the ground and crunching through the underbrush of the trees. Thane wasn’t afraid, though. If it was the vampire who came for him, maybe this time the man would actually kill him. If it wasn’t the bastard who had imprisoned him, perhaps he’d be rescued. He’d been waiting ever since the dream conversation he’d had with his brother.