Page 1 of Havenfall Harbor
Chapter 1
Quinn
Everything I’ve donefor the past several years has led up to this moment, to say I’m not nervous as hell would be a downright lie. I readjust my grip on the handles of my luggage as I drag in a deep, shuddering breath.
The towering, wrought iron gates of Havenfall Harbor loom before me, as imposing as they are beautiful. The elegantly twisted metal work doesn’t hide the deadly points curled over the top, preventing anyone from scaling the fence.
I take another deep breath, this one to steady myself as I march up to the little gray intercom planted on a post, meant for people in cars.
A red, blinking light on the box alerts me that I’m being filmed. I’m sure there are several more cameras that I can’t see watching me and the lonely stretch of road around Havenfall.
I lean my bag against my leg and smooth back the hair that escaped from my braid to tickle my cheeks.
I want to give myself a few more minutes, but I would just be stalling. They probably already know I’m here, so instead I poke the gray button with my finger before smoothing my hair back again. Waiting.
The intercom crackles as a clear, feminine voice calls out, “Someone will be down to collect you shortly,Ms. Shaw.”
“Oh, uh…okay,” I respond, but I have no clue if she even heard me, the static broke off as soon as she was done speaking. I reposition my purse over my chest and grab the handle of my luggage, dragging it up over the curb and out of the driveway.
I look around, not at all surprised by how isolated the property is. This facility has been here for a lifetime, maybe longer. In its previous life it was a private school, or so it would have seemed, but over the last fifty years the designation has changed to a reformatory for wayward supernaturals, and as an orphanage for those who have no other place to go.
Supernaturals aren’t anything new to me, I grew up knowing they existed. But there are still people like my parents who remember a time when vampires and shifters were things of legend, not our neighbors. The fact that we now know the Mackeys and the Ferns are supernaturals somehow changed them and people like them in my family’s eyes.
I wipe the sleeve of my t-shirt over my brow. After five minutes of waiting, the sun has broken through the clouds and I’m starting to sweat. I’m tempted to hit the intercom button again. I’ve been traveling all day, so I’m starving and could use a shower. Tipping my expensive luggage to the side, I pile them up and drop my ass on top so I don’t have to sit on the ground.
Another twenty minutes ticks by and my frustration builds with every second. They knew I was coming, know I’m here. Why the hell aren’t they opening the gates?
“Two more minutes,” I grouse, “then I’m pushing the damn button again.” I pretend not to look at my watch. I’m not one for confrontations, especially with people I have to work with, live with. That’s why I waited until my application to work at Havenfall was accepted before I even told my parents—so I didn’t have to deal with the shitstorm it caused. I shake my head just thinking about it. Remembering their reaction is not something I want to deal with right now.
Deciding it’s been long enough, I walk over to the intercom and push the button. “Hi, I’m more than happy to just walk up if you don’t mind opening the gates.” Who knows if they heard me, but I smiled while looking into the camera, hoping they don’t think I’m being bitchy.
The whir of a motor kicks to life and the huge gates slowly open inward. I rush back to my bags and snatch the handles up, bumping my way over the grass and down the curb to rush to the entrance.
The first few minutes of walking feels good, giving me the chance to stretch my legs, but my eager steps slow when I still can’t see the Havenfall house after a solid five minutes. With every twist of the lane, I imagine the building will be on the other side, but so far I’ve been disappointed.
“Should have waited,” I mumble under my breath, as I pass tree after tree bordering the paved road. Off in the distance, I hear the sound of a small motor, maybe even a tractor. I pause and lift my hand to shield my eyes from the sun until I see a small UTV cruising along the grass.
“Hey! What are you doing?” a masculine voice shouts. I glance over my shoulder, wondering who he’s yelling at.
“Me?” I point at my own chest.
He gets closer and I see a gun rack on the back of his vehicle, the rifle slotted into it has an exceptionally narrow barrel, but it looks deadly all the same.
“What are you doing?” the man asks again, stopping near the edge of the drive and jumping out of the UTV.
I step back. He’s imposing, tall and blond with a shadow of a beard and hard, dark eyes. That’s all I take in before I notice the gun on his waist.
“I’m walking up?” I release my bags as he comes even closer.
His dark eyes narrow. “You’re not a resident.”
I shake my head and blink. “I’m Quinn, Quinn Shaw. I was hired last week,” I add as a reminder just in case. I have no idea who this guy is, probably security of some sort.
“Why are you walking?” he questions, looking down at my designer luggage.
“I waited at the entrance for a while, then offered to walk when it seemed like everyone was busy.” I force my muscles to relax. He may be daunting, but I don’t think he’s a threat, not to me anyway. He seems genuinely surprised to have found me here.
The big man’s shoulders loosen a little, and he reaches for both my bags, not showing any strain at the weight. “Who the hell did you talk to, and how long were you out at the gate?” he inquires, tossing my stuff unceremoniously in the back of his little truck-like vehicle.
