PROLOGUE

MARI

I chuckled as I sat at the bar, listening to both the actual conversation going on at the end of the bar, and the inner conversations both participants were having with themselves. A skinny guy with glasses, a wrinkled white shirt with mustard stains on it, and unflattering pants that were too short sat with a gorgeous dark-haired woman; Indian or Middle-Eastern by the look of her, wearing a tight pencil skirt, black pumps, and a white button-up. Poor guy thinks he's gonna get some tonight but she's out of his league, and what's worse, she knows she's out of his league. She's not even paying attention to what he's saying. All she's thinking about is...wait for it...oh, yep, there it is. What she is gonna wear tomorrow to get the men in her office to pay attention to her. Yep, nail polish colors, jewelry, clothes. Vapid, vapid woman. Oh well. Too bad too. He's actually kinda cute, if you ignore the clothes. But I wasn't interested in other girl's hand-me-downs tonight. It was just a stop on the way. I picked this place cause it was relatively quiet. If I had wanted fun, I would have gone to one of the clubs downtown. And I would have worn a completely different outfit. I may be more comfortable in jeans and t-shirts, but when I wanted sex, I could pull of a tight dress and heels with the best of them. But here I was, in this hole in the wall, wearing nothing but my usual jeans and a simple black tank top. Very little make-up; just eyeliner and mascara. I even kept my hair up in it's usually sloppy bun, figuring no one would even think to look twice at me.

So far this place had remained quiet. Besides the missed love connection at the end of the bar, there was a couple in a booth in the back, about to start drunkenly making out any second. Ugh. The thought sent a shiver down my spine. If they start, I'm outta here! The last thing I need tonight is THAT in my head. There was also a guy to my left a few bar stools down. He was a bigger guy, dressed in various shades of brown from head to toe, including the cowboy hat he wore on his head and the boots he had on his feet. From the looks of things he was a regular. So much a regular that he seemed to just melt into the atmosphere of the bar. Anyone else would have wanted to stay away from him, assuming he was some dangerous creep who only meant harm for anyone who looked at him the wrong way. But, tonight at least, his thoughts were far away, out on a ranch in Montana. He was sad. Like he was drinking for the loss of a past life; the loss of a past self. The bartender was bored. It was clear, even to someone who didn't have my "gifts". The way he held himself, the way he poured drinks, even the way he talked, like he wanted to be anywhere but here. He stood behind the bar cutting up lemons and limes. Clearly this bar had seen better days, but now it was a haven for people like me. People who just wanted to be left alone with their thoughts.

I sat, drinking my beer, suddenly filled with thoughts about my mom and what I was about to do. What I had done earlier that day. I knew both decisions were right, or at least that's what I kept telling myself. Both were either ingenious or completely stupid, but I needed rather than hoped for the prior. I hoped the knife would never be found at the bottom of the Hudson. My mind moved to the letter that was lying just under the zipper of my bag. That stupid, surprising, unrelenting letter from my mother, who had been dead for 20 years. How could she have written that letter knowing I would get it right when I needed it most? Right when I was the most lost. But by following her directions, I'd actually be admitting that I was lost, and that was almost worst. "Go to Haven Maine" she says. "You have an older half-brother named Duke" she says. "Find him. Let him show you the way home." What does that even mean? Home for me used to be Bend, Oregon, but for the last 6 years, "home" has been one of those ideas that you hear but can never really grasp. Like the fairytales you read as a child, hearing about "true love" and "happily ever afters", but then growing up and realizing those concepts aren't what they seem. God! I had it all planned out! Well, sort of anyway. I was gonna drift along, totally blissed out in my existence, not caring about anyone, no one letting me down. I had jobs...maybe not always legal, but I always had money. I can look after myself!Damn it! Maybe I am lost, but I don't even know him! How on earth can he help me? He doesn't know me! And how the hell do I explain...me? My "troubles", as my mother used to call them? The fact that not only can I hear what is going on in everyone's head, but that I can feel and project emotions too?! And what if he's a total douche? What if all he cares about is his life and his family and his…..whatever?

Oh damn it! Well that didn't take very long. There go the two love birds in the corner...oh man...butterflies in the stomach, whirling head, ew. Ok, time to go. I pushed my barstool back. Shit. It really couldn't be that easy could it? I cocked my head to the right, listening as a man looking to be in his mid-40s walked through the door and saw me sitting at the bar. He started walking up to the bar, the whole time thinking about what he was gonna say to me, do to me, etc. I rolled my eyes and took one last large swig of my beer. Here we go. He sat down next to me and ordered a whiskey clearly trying to impress me by ordering off the "big boy menu". If only it were that easy. I grabbed my bag and coat from underneath my barstool. As I did, the guy turned to me, putting a hand on mine and said, "Leaving so soon?" "Gotta be getting back on the road," I responded without looking at him and pulled my hand away. He put a hand on my shoulder as if to stop me and said, "Stay and I'll make it worth your while". Groan. Really? Does that actually work on anyone. Ever? As I walked away I heard him think, Maybe next time! I spun around, grabbed the knife the bartender had been using and slammed it down between the man's third and fourth finger on his left hand, just missing the little piece of skin at the bottom. "Next time I won't miss," I said as he stared with a shocked expression on his face at me, the bartender, and the knife. "And next time, I'll put the knife so far into your hand, it'll be coming out the other side of the bar." I grabbed my bag and jacket off the floor and made for the door. I turned and looked the man dead in the eye. Focusing on him, and him alone, I said, "You should really be getting home to your wife and kids, you know?" Then I turned and walked out into the freezing New York City night.

ROSE

I sighed as I closed the case files in front of me. I could feel the headache brewing behind my eyes so I waved my hand and the stove turned on under the teapot, as I moved to put the files in my bag and put the bag by the front door. It had been a long two weeks since I had arrived in Haven to help out my good friend and old college roommate, Claire Callahan, on what appeared to be a serial killer case only to discover that she was working with my cousin, Nathan Wuornos. It was a very small world apparently. I hadn't heard from my uncle or my cousin in close to 10 years, so walking into the police station and hearing that my uncle, Garland Wuornos, had been the police chief, was dead and my cousin Nathan was the interim chief was more than a little disconcerting.

As I was moving towards the kitchen there was a knock on the door. I glanced at the clock and smiled slightly. It was almost 11:00 pm. The only person that would come around my place this late was...I threw open the door and smiled. "Duke Crocker! What can I do you for?" I asked, my Irish accent coming out as I looked up at him. He chuckled and smiled, shrugging his shoulders. "Rose Hunter, I couldn't help but notice that your lights were still on. I was just getting ready to leave The Gull and I was going to see if you wanted to have a nightcap?" he replied cheekily. I laughed and waved him in. "I was just heating up some water for tea. I could make yours a hot tottie if you would like?" I said as I moved to grab two mugs from the cabinet. Duke moved to sit at the kitchen table behind me. "That would be great. So how are you liking Haven?" he asked casually. I glanced back at him and smiled. "It's nice. It reminds me a lot of Ballynigel…" I said wistfully.

My mind filled with images of the green hills of Ireland and the small village where I spent most of my childhood. I remembered my grandmother sitting in front of the fire in her rocking chair explaining to me about the Rule of Three and the connection between your emotions and your magick. I remembered dancing in ritual during Morgan and Hunter's handfasting and how beautiful the day was. I remembered the blood-

I shook my head quickly to disperse the images and grabbed the tea kettle. "You must have really enjoyed it there," Duke said softly as he watched me add a shot of brandy to his mug. "I did, but it's nice to be around Nathan again. I did truly miss him," I replied. "You missed stick in the mud?" Duke asked incredulously and I couldn't help but laugh. I knew that Nathan and Duke had an interesting relationship, but they really did like each other underneath all the bitterness. "Yes," I replied, sitting down at the table and passing him the cup. "I missed him. He and his father were the only other family I had after my parents...died." I swallowed at the thought of my parents, who were killed by a Dark Coven when I was a baby."When his dad cut off contact I was 16 and thought I had lost the last possible connection to my parents forever…" "I'm sorry. I didn't know," Duke replied soflty, taking a long sip of his drink. "It's okay. I don't really remember them. I was barely 2 years old when they died and then I lived with my grandmother. I didn't know any other life."

We talked and laughed for another two hours discussing funny family stories, crazy college experiences and ex-lovers. I was in the middle of telling a story about another drunken college escapade between me and Claire when I noticed that it was almost 1:00 am. "Oh goddess! Duke I need to get some sleep! Claire and I have a consult at 8:00 am!" I cried, in realization. He laughed and shook his head. "Okay fine Rose. I will get out of your hair...for now! You aren't getting out of telling me that story though!" I laughed and shook my head. "Goodnight, Duke. I had fun," I said as I walked towards the door with him following me closely. I could feel his body heat behind me. "I did too. We should do this again sometime," he said softly as I turned around and found him enticingly close. "I'd like that," I whispered. He pressed a gentle kiss to the left corner of my mouth before exiting my apartment and leaving me breathless.