Haven 5: Invincible (4 page)

“Wait.” Stavion held his hand up for silence, and then walked around his desk to start pacing near the fireplace. “Okay, so he’s hearing dead people in his head. These dead people are trapped in Purgatory. You said Aslan is a threshold.” He stopped and looked up at Torren. “What exactly does that mean? He just hears these spirits and passes on their messages?”

Torren wished it was that simple. “There are different reasons that a soul can be trapped in Purgatory. Some are there because they choose to be. Some are benevolent, while others are cold and vicious.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Raven called, twirling his hand to get Torren to speed things along. “Can you get to the point?” Torren really didn’t like the jackass sometimes. “These spirits will batter at him, weaken his defenses, and if they time it right, they can gain a foothold in our world through Aslan.”

“What defenses?” Cassius asked. “You mean to say that he can prevent this?”

Torren nodded slowly. “I doubt he even realizes he’s doing it right now. I can help him, though.”

“Why do I feel like there’s more that you aren’t telling us?” Stavion rested his hands on his hips and glared. “What’s going on, Torren?”

“He’s been getting headaches. If these spirits can cause him physical pain then he’s already breaking down. He’s also afraid.

They’ll feed on his fear, grow stronger because of it.”

“What happens if they cross through this gateway?” Cassius’s eyebrows were drawn together and his brow furrowed.

“There is always a sacrifice in magic. If the balance is upset, it must be restored.” Only one soul would be able to pass through the threshold, and only if Aslan allowed it. There would be a price to pay, though.

“Sacrifice,” Stavion mumbled to himself. Then his head lifted, pinned Torren with his amber gaze, and even before he spoke, Torren realized that the coven leader understood. “Aslan is that sacrifice.”

* * * *

Freshly showered and dressed in his tightest jeans, Aslan sat at the foot of his bed, staring down at his bare toes as he vibrated in anticipation. Torren was coming. He’d promised this time, and Aslan believed him. No matter what the voices in his head kept telling him, Torren was coming for him.

So when the soft knock sounded at his bedroom door, Aslan sprang up from the bed and dove across the room to wrench it open.

Dressed in a thin, black sweater and dark khakis, Torren Braddock’s enormous six-foot-four frame filled his doorway. Aslan was a little disappointed to see that his ebony hair was pulled back, but not enough to comment on it.

It was his eyes that held Aslan immobile, though. He’d never met anyone with black eyes before. There was a slight glimmer to the onyx, tiny gold flecks just around the pupil that added a touch of warmth to Torren’s otherwise chiseled features.

The smile Torren gave him was fast and easy. “Hello,
caro.
”

“I looked that up,” Aslan informed his mate. “It’s nice, so that means you like me, right?”

Torren chuckled, the rumbling sound coming straight from his chest and warming Aslan’s insides. “Yes, Aslan. That means I like you very much.”

Stepping to the side of the door, Aslan couldn’t take his eyes off the man. How did he get so lucky as to have someone like Torren for a mate? “Would you like to come in? Are you going to stay?” His smile slipped a notch, and Torren shook his head. “I can’t stay.”

Aslan’s heart felt like it was going to fall out of his butt. “Will you come back?” He refused to be whiney and needy, but he was beginning to think that he wasn’t ever going to get to spend some quality time with the man.

“Actually, I was wondering if you’d like to come to Casper with me. I have to do my job, but I’d like for you to stay with me.” Aslan wanted to be with his mate, but Haven had become his home. It was the first place he’d ever felt like he had a real family and people to care about him. “I don’t know what to do,” he whispered. “I want to go with you, but what about my friends?” Palming the side of Aslan’s face, Torren smiled and his eyes softened marginally. “It’s just for a little while. Your friends are welcome to visit, and once things settle down, we can come here as often as you like.” His gaze raked over Aslan’s body from head to toe as he spoke, and his eyebrows drew together like he was confused about something. “What are you wearing?”

“Do you like it?” He’d copied the look from a movie he’d watched with Jory. The movie sucked as usual, but the guy was hot.

Standing up a little straighter, he trailed his fingers down the light-blue material of the scarf that was wrapped around his neck. It fell over his shoulders and down his nude chest, the fringes barely brushing against his hips. The jeans he’d acquired from Kendall, but they were his favorite. Very tight, stonewashed, and artfully ripped, they showed off more skin than they covered. Aslan felt sexy when he wore them, and he’d wanted to look very tempting for his big mate.

“Your hair.” Torren touched Aslan’s temple, fingering the much shorter locks there. “What did you do?”

“Well, I cut it.” Aslan shrugged. It was just hair. It would grow back. He’d felt that his long, curling tresses made him look like a child, so he’d asked Raina to cut it for him. Now it was short, spikey, expertly styled, and he felt like a rock star.

“I can see that.” Torren didn’t look very happy about it, though.

“Why are you wearing a scarf and no shirt? It’s cold outside.” Aslan rolled his eyes and huffed. The man really needed to lighten up and stop being so practical and stuffy. “Because it makes me feel sexy, and I wanted to look nice for you. If you don’t like it, then you don’t have to look at me.”

Maybe that was the wrong thing to say, because Torren looked like he’d never been spoken to that way. His eyes widened, his nostrils flared, and a frown tugged at the corners of his lips.

Actually, considering what an important man he was in the paranormal world, he probably only garnered the utmost respect from other people. That didn’t mean Aslan was going to take it back, though. He liked how he looked. It made him feel good about himself for the first time in his life, and no one—not even Mr. Tight Ass—

was going to take that away from him.

“See, he doesn’t even appreciate the things you do for him.

Typical man,”
the female voice said haughtily.
“And now he wants to
take you away from your friends.”

“And your home,”
the accented male voice added.
“He will only
break your heart, my dear.”

“Make him leave!”
The last voice was loud, growly, and vicious, turning Aslan’s blood cold and sending a shiver of dread up his spine.

“Aslan?” Torren stepped a little closer, slid his knuckles under Aslan’s chin, and urged his face up. “Are the voices back?”

It was such a relief for someone to finally know his secret
and
believe him. “They never really leave. Sometimes, they’re just quiet.”

“I can help you. Do you want to make them go away?”

“Well, duh.” Popping his hip out to the side, Aslan crossed his arms over his chest and gave his mate a look he hoped portrayed just how ridiculous he found the man.

Torren looked like he
wanted
to be mad, but he just couldn’t quite make it there. So, after a few seconds of glaring, he finally gave up and started laughing. The longer his laughter rolled on, the louder it got, and it was so infectious that Aslan couldn’t stop from giggling right along with him.

“You are going to be trouble,” Torren said when he’d finally gotten himself under control.

Aslan winced and looked away, his good mood plummeting quickly. “I don’t mean to be trouble.” He’d gotten himself into some unusual situations since he’d arrived in Haven, but they weren’t intentional. How was he supposed to know that it was a bad idea to use laundry soap in the dishwasher? He’d just been trying to help, not flood the kitchen in bubbles.

“Look at me.” It was said softly, but there was an authority in Torren’s voice that had Aslan snapping his head up to meet his mate’s gaze immediately. “I wasn’t making fun of you.” Aslan started to look away again, but Torren gripped his chin in his massive paw and held him still. “I actually meant it as a compliment.”

“He’s lying,”
a voice whispered in his head. It wasn’t loud, but Aslan recognized the snakelike quality in the timbre.
“He doesn’t
want you. You’re too much trouble.”
He tried to work out the right thing to do, but it was so hard to concentrate with the voice hissing inside his head. If Torren didn’t want him, then he wouldn’t have come for him. Right? That made sense.

“He wants to use you, to take you away from your friends. He
wants to hurt you.”

Torren said he could make the voices go away, and Aslan wanted that more than anything. There wasn’t a time in his life when he could ever remember being alone inside his own head. Even when he was a child, there had always been “someone” whispering in his ear, wanting him to do things. He’d tried telling his parents, but that hadn’t gone very well at all. They just thought he was crazy.

“Maybe I am crazy,” he muttered under his breath. Maybe the voices weren’t real at all, and they existed only in his imagination.

“You’re not crazy,
caro
.” Torren bent from the waist and pressed his lips to Aslan’s forehead. “I can help you, but I need you to trust me. Come home with me.”

“This is my home.” Gods, he was so confused. He wanted Torren, and who wouldn’t? The guy just oozed sex appeal. Even his deep, rich voice was like a liquid wet dream that sent fire coursing through Aslan’s veins.

Haven was his safe place, though, just like the name implied. No one could hurt him here. He didn’t believe that Torren wanted to hurt him like the voice said. He just didn’t know the man well enough to trust him unconditionally.

“This can still be your home,” Torren answered after a minute of watching him. “It doesn’t have to be permanent, but I can’t stay here.

I’m needed in Casper, and I need you with me.” Well, that was a lot of needing. The Council needed Torren, and Torren needed Aslan, and Aslan…well, he didn’t know what the hell he needed except for the murmuring in his head to stop. “Do you want me? Or do you just need me because I’m your mate?” Was there a distinction between the two? He didn’t know, but he felt like it was important.

“I definitely want you with me.”

That didn’t sound right, though. The night before, Torren had called him a distraction. Now he wanted him? Aslan knew he wasn’t the brightest crayon in the proverbial box, but he definitely wasn’t stupid. “Don’t lie to me,” he growled, jerking away from Torren and taking a step backward.

“I’m not lying.”

“You said I was a distraction.”

“You are.” Torren sounded so calm and matter-of-fact. It did little to appease Aslan’s anger.

“Then you can’t want me. Why are you lying to me?”

“They always lie. He wants to use you. Then he’ll discard you just
like everyone else.”

“I’m not lying,” Torren repeated. “You
are
a distraction for me. I think about you, worry about you constantly. You make me…weak.”

“He lies,”
the cruel voice hissed.
“He only thinks of himself.”

“Shut up.”

Torren narrowed his eyes, studying him intently before he continued talking. “When I’m near you, I forget everything else, all the reasons that people depend on me. It’s not safe for us to be apart anymore, though.” He stepped closer, holding his hand out with the palm up. “Let me help you. Let me take care of you.” Aslan didn’t need a keeper, though. “I’m not some animal in the fucking zoo! I don’t need you to take care of me!”

“That’s right. You can stand alone. No one gives you enough
credit.”

“Shut up!” Aslan knocked his fist against the side of his head. He was so mad, but he didn’t know why or what had caused it. Torren hadn’t really said anything that warranted his overemotional reaction.

He just needed to think, and he needed quiet to do it.

“Your friends never put you first. Why should your mate? They all
have each other and their own mates. They don’t need you anymore.
No one needs you.”

“Shut up!” he screamed, rapping his knuckles against his temple as if he could beat the voice out of his brain. “I hate you. I hate this. Just leave me alone!” His head started to throb and pressure built behind his eyes until his vision dimmed around the edges.

“I can make it stop.” Torren knelt in front of him and grabbed his face in both hands. “I can show you how to make it stop. Please,
caro
.”

It was the worry in his eyes and the concern in his tone that finally broke Aslan. Sure, Torren could possibly be faking the look, but Aslan didn’t think so. What other options did he have? He was supposed to stand beside his mate. Besides, he really, really wanted those people out of his head.

Nodding slowly, he reached out and placed his hand in Torren’s, lacing their fingers together. “Okay.”

“No!”

Pain exploded in Aslan’s temples, and he felt himself jerked backward as though there was an invisible rope tied around his midsection. His foot caught the edge of the bedframe, sending him tumbling to the floor with nothing to break his fall.

The back of his head connected with something hard and unyielding, causing him more sickening pain. He thought he heard someone call his name, but it sounded far away and hollow like in a dream. Aslan welcomed the darkness that enveloped him in its warm embrace, drowning out all noise, all sights, and all of his pain.

Head wounds bleed. A lot.

Torren had to keep reminding himself of that as he performed a healing spell on his mate to seal the gash in the back of his head from where he’d hit it on the corner of the nightstand. It really didn’t help to calm him, though. His hands were shaking, his heart was trying to punch through his chest, and his stomach rolled uncomfortably.

The blood soaking into the beige carpet looked like an extraordinary amount. How could such a tiny person bleed so much?