Some time later, maybe minutes or hours, he had no idea, Wyatt felt a hand on his back and leapt up in shock, completely disoriented and knife drawn. He blinked his eyes, rubbing them with the palm of his hand.
“Dev?” he asked, not trusting his eyes.
"I didn't mean to startle you," Dev stated matter-of-factly.
"You're here."
"I am," she agreed.
Wyatt sat down and ran his hands over his head, wishing he could just rub the events of the day away.
"I just spent the last three hours combing the city for you."
If Wyatt was expecting an apology, none was forthcoming.
"I've been here since Max left. I had to check on Darby."
"And you didn't think to maybe call and let me know?"
"No," she replied, "I didn't."
Wyatt watched her as she tended to Darby.
“Is she improving?”
“Yes.”
“She stopped decaying?”
“Yes.”
“Will she be all right?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to say anything to me except yes?”
Dev looked up at him for a long, hard minute. She was silent and her eyes were cold.
“No.”
That small word cut Wyatt to his core. He was tired and emotionally spent, a horrible combination. And he didn’t want to say something to Dev he would later regret, so he did the only thing he could think to do: he left. Lying in bed, he told himself leaving was the sensible thing to do; Dev didn’t want to be around him anyway. And that might very well have been the truth, but such logic was cold comfort.
Despite the exhaustion seeping into his bones, Wyatt remained awake, listening for Dev to come back to her room, hoping she would do so before he succumbed to sleep. As soon as he heard her door open, he dragged himself out of bed and headed for her room, knowing she didn’t want him around but unable to stay away from her. Walking down her hallway, Wyatt suddenly felt like he was intruding on Dev’s space and wondered whether he should turn around and head back to his own bed. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, searching for an answer.
“What are you doing, Wyatt?” Dev quietly asked from the living room.
Wyatt looked down the hallway in the direction of her voice and saw her, sitting on a chair, her long legs tucked under her, her head resting against her palm, her eyes bright in the darkness. He slid down the wall and sat on the floor, his head in his hands.
“I don’t know.”
Dev didn’t say anything, just watched him. She could not bring herself to go to him although she knew he needed her comfort. He needed her to say it was okay, that she understood his actions with Max, that she didn’t hate him. The only problem was she could not be certain that would be true and Dev didn’t want to lie to Wyatt.
She closed her eyes, wishing today never happened. Wyatt quietly approached and watched her, desperate to take away her pain, fully aware he was responsible for part of it. He sat down on the floor in front of her and tentatively touched her leg; after frantically searching the city for her, he needed to make sure she was really there. Dev moved away from him, wanting to hurt him as much as he had hurt her.
“Dev,” Wyatt started to speak in the darkness.
“Please,” she held up her hand, “just stop. I mean it. Stop.”
“I want to explain today...”
She shook her head and silenced him.
“I get it, Wyatt. I do. You’re Sanctum. Your first responsibility is to your fellow Sanctum, especially someone of Max’s stature, especially a friend.”
Wyatt sat back and stared at her, not quite believing he was hearing the words coming out of her mouth.
“You cannot be serious,” he stated dumbfounded.
Dev continued as if he had not spoken at all.
"Your instinct told you to let him live, protect him from me and that's what you did. And I get it. Years of training aren't going to be undone overnight and I should have never been so foolish as to believe they could be. Or you would want them to be."
"You just watched me kill Sanctum to protect you," Wyatt shouted in frustration, "so what the hell are you talking about?"
Dev stared at Wyatt, remaining calm in the face of his frustration, fully aware she was upsetting him.
"Obviously, they were not your friends," she continued quietly, "which made it easier for you to kill them."
Wyatt stood up, looming over her, completely irate.
"How dare you? Just who do you think you are, acting all cold and shut off. Why can't you say the decision I made today hurt you or damaged the trust you had in me? Why are you doing this? You know killing those warriors was not something I took lightly, but I did it. And I would do it again. I will kill any Sanctum, including Max Breslin, to protect you, to help you. You know this.
"But I am sorry, I could not allow you to go after him today and put the rest of my family, Ryker and everyone else in my Academy at risk to further your vendetta."
Wyatt’s choice of words stung Dev. She rose, standing tall and met his glare.
“I would never put anyone you care about at risk to further my vendetta,” she spat at him. “I would never hurt anyone that matters to you, otherwise I would have killed your sister the first chance I got. I knew I couldn’t waltz into your parents’ kitchen and kill Max. I was fully aware that doing so was signing their death warrant. I simply needed to vent, feel like if I wanted to I could kill him.
“Of course, now I see the folly of my ways since with you around, I wasn’t even going to get a glimpse of Max much less carry out my vendetta against him.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Wyatt tried to explain.
“Then how exactly did you mean it, Wyatt? Because from where I’m standing, it was pretty clear what you meant.”
Wyatt sat down on the coffee table and looked up at her, his eyes full of hurt and confusion.
“Why are you doing this?”
“I’m doing nothing but being honest with you. I should have never come here that night. I did so in a moment of weakness and now I’ve gotten myself all tangled up with you people. I am sorry for that and trust me, if I could undo it, I would. I could be completely heartless and leave tonight, but I won’t because of your parents. They know things about me I don’t know myself but more than that, I like them.
“I cannot say the same about you.”
She turned and walked down her hall, towards her bedroom.
“Dev,” Wyatt called to her, “you don’t mean that.”
Dev stopped in her doorway and turned back to him, her beautiful warrior. She was so angry with him, so hurt by his actions and careless words. And she held tightly to those feelings, anything to maintain distance from Wyatt lest her resolve crumble and she fall victim to his sad eyes, his beautiful face, that wrinkle between his eyes.
“I do mean it, Wyatt. I do. Trust when I say there is nothing between us. No tie, no bond, nothing. It’s laughable, really, how little we know about one another. And now I’m not even certain I like you. Don’t get me wrong, you’re gorgeous and you rescued me and damn, you’re well-versed in all the places to touch a girl and make her crazy, but beyond that,” Dev shook her head sadly, “I just don’t know.”
She turned away from him, turned off the lights and waited for him to leave. Wyatt remained seated on the table, stock still and in shock.
“Go to bed, Wyatt!” she yelled down the hallway as she slammed her door.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
The light coming through the window was bright and crisp, full of tiny sparks and pops, a perfect fall morning. Outside the traffic was picking up as folks headed to school or work or wherever else it was they went at such an early hour. In sharp contrast, the air inside the room was stifling and still, depleted of the life just outside the window. Darby opened her eyes and turned her face towards the sun, relishing the warmth and longing for the outdoors.
She car
efully removed the transfusion tube from her arm, certain that one more drop of blood in her system would cause her to explode. Leaning over, she flipped the switch on the machine, turning it off for good. She sat up in bed and crossed her legs, stretched her neck from side to side and her arms high above her head. She could not recall a time feeling so stiff and unused, almost as if she would need to train her limbs to work again.
"I see you're feeling better,” Dev observed as she walked into the room to check on Darby, holding out her hand to formally introduce herself, “and by the way, my name is Dev. I don’t believe I ever introduced myself to you.”
Darby took Dev's outstretched hand in her own and smiled thoughtfully. It was so strange to finally know her name.
"Dev," she let it roll off her tongue nice and slow, sounding more like "Dave" with her thick, Southern drawl. "It's a bit odd but I kinda like it. So nice to finally meet you. And yes, I am definitely feeling better but I can see you're not in the best shape of your life," Darby replied as she took in the dark circles under Dev’s eyes and her overall gray aura.
Dev paid Darby no mind, not feeling like explaining her appearance and instead, smiled tiredly as she ran her hands over Darby's arms and legs, examining them one final time.
"I feel like I’ve been rode hard and hung up dry, but apparently it was worth it,” Darby whispered mischievously in Dev's ear, “a girl could get used to this treatment.”
"Well, don't," Dev leaned in close and whispered right back, “because this is a one-time rub down. You are so not my type.”
Darby could not help but smile. Apparently, taking care of her had helped Dev overcome some of her squeamishness with vampires.
"I like you this way, all open and relaxed,” Darby laughed, “you remind me of your mama.”
Dev stopped her examination of the tiny vampire, stepped away from her and waited, too shocked to speak, too stunned to trust her voice.
“Maya was your mama, correct?” Darby asked gently, not wanting to further spook Dev, uncertain of how she might react.
“Yes,” Dev replied, still trying to wrap her head around the direction of the conversation, “she was. She’s dead now.”
Darby leaned against the bed with the blow of that news.
“Oh sweet Jesus, I’m sorry.”
“How do you know my mom, Darby?”
“Years ago, we crossed paths. I was rip-roaring through India, killing anything I pleased and she found me. I threatened to kill her and she stilled me with her power. When I woke up, I was lying in the sunshine in the middle of a field as if it was nothin’. She gave me that. I don’t know why she did it, but she did.
“She had some powerful magic running through her. I smell it on you as well. That’s how I knew you were Maya’s.”
“I’m not her blood,” Dev replied.
“Don’t matter,” Darby insisted, “you’ve got that same magic running through those veins of yours. Trust me, I can smell it a mile away.”
“Then why are you always getting up in my face about it?” Dev laughed, “smelling me in my sleep.”
Darby grinned wickedly.
“You get me so hot and bothered, I can’t help myself,” Darby explained as she jumped off the bed, "but don’t worry, I know to keep my distance. Wyatt has warned me that you are off limits. Good lord, that boy loves you something fierce."
Dev pointedly ignored the comment about Wyatt and just watched Darby. It was pretty special that both she and her mom had worked on the vampire, together creating the being standing before her. Dev smiled, feeling a distinct bond with her mom in death that she had never felt when Maya was alive.
"So hot stuff, you gonna tell me what you did or am I gonna have to guess?” Darby’s voice brought Dev back into the moment, “because the fact I'm standing here right now means you laid your hands on me."
Dev handed Darby some fresh clothes and took a seat, still intrigued by the vampire's awesome recovery.
"What do you remember?" Dev asked.
Darby fastened her bra and pulled a sweater over her head, shook out her curls and grabbed the jeans Dev gave her.
“That bastard Luc. He’s what I remember.”
Dev started to ask about Luc, but the door opened and in walked Wyatt. He glanced briefly at Dev and frowned, still smarting from the harsh words she threw at him last night, then quickly turned his attention to Darby. A huge smile, genuine and heartfelt, curved his lips as he wrapped his arms around the vampire. He looked down and kissed the top of her head as he had done thousands of times before, so pleased to be doing so again.
Darby squeezed him tight then wiggled out of his embrace, afraid seeing him like this, so open with his emotions, would make her cry.
“Okay sweetheart,” she smiled up at him, “I’m not dead yet. Let’s not get all mushy about it.”
Wyatt grinned and leaned against her bed, happy to see Darby healed and animated. Watching her lie in that bed, so still and deathlike had been horrible.
“Pardon me for being a little happy to see you up and about.”
“All thanks to the good doctor over there,” Darby nodded in Dev’s direction, “not only is she as hot as a two-dollar pistol, but she’s also freakishly talented in the healing department.”
“Two-dollar pistols no longer exist,” Wyatt noted.
“Shut up, smart ass,” Darby grinned at them, “you know exactly what I mean.”
“Stop it,” Dev waved off Darby’s compliment with a smile, “you’re giving me far too much credit. You are a vampire after all. This is what you guys do.”
“If you say so,” Darby wrapped a cold arm around Dev’s waist, “but you and I both know that’s being a bit modest.”
“Well, either way,” Wyatt suddenly stood, looking as if he wanted to be anywhere but that room, “I’m glad you’re all right. You think you’re ready to give us a rundown of what happened, or at least what you can remember?”
“Hot damn, Wyatt. You think you can sound a little more formal and Breslin-like? I was fixing to have that lovely chat with Dev and am more than happy to oblige you, but give a girl a second.”
Darby shot Wyatt an annoyed look which he promptly ignored.
“Plus, I’ve gotta see Ryker so your little rundown,” Darby imitated his formal tone, “is going to have to wait a quick second.”
“You just woke up and are already giving me a hard time. I can’t win,” Wyatt laughed, knowing Darby was right, “of course you should see Ryker before you do anything else. I’m headed back that way, so I’ll walk with you.”
Wyatt picked himself off the bed and headed for the door. Dev started to follow and then stopped, not wanting to be in the hallway with him at the same time. Darby watched the two desperately try to avoid one another.
“What’s the deal with y’all?” she asked, stopping both of them in their tracks.
“Nothing,” Dev replied nonchalantly.
“What are you talking about?” Wyatt asked from the doorway.
“Well, shoot me, Wyatt Clayworth, but the last time I was around the two of you, it was all mystical and whatnot. You saved her, she saved you, true love, blah, blah, blah. Not this,” Darby gestured towards them as they stood apart from each other. “I mean for cripe’s sake, you lied to Ryker about her. And now y’all can barely look at each other.”
“You’re right, Darb,” Wyatt agreed, “we did save each other, only to realize we really don’t like one another. So what you’re seeing right now is us trying to make nice for everyone else until Dev can get to wherever it is she needs to be.”
“That makes about as much sense as tits on a bull,” Darby noted dryly.
“Drop it and let’s go find Ryker,” Wyatt said as he left the room and headed for his wing, not waiting to see whether Darby followed.
Dev shrugged her shoulders as Darby walked past.
“He’s right, Darby. We don’t really know one another and the little we do know, we don’t particularly like. You should ju
st leave it alone.”
Darby stopped in front of Dev and studied her painfully beautiful face for a moment, so tired and worn out, and so very sad.
“Sweetheart, you might just be about the world’s worst liar.”
Then she turned on her heel and headed after Wyatt.
“You’re full of it, Clayworth!” Darby yelled after him as she walked down the hall, turning back to smile mischievously at Dev, “she is the love of your life and you know it.”
“Shut up, Darby,” Wyatt responded, sounding far away, “remember I can always revoke your welcome within these fine walls.”
"You wouldn't dare," Darby replied with a laugh.
Their voices faded until Dev was left with the silence of the room. She stuck her head out the doorway and seeing no one, ventured out and started exploring The Academy.
Growing up, her parents had spoken fondly of the academies, ten in all, one for each founding family. The largest ones were in London, Los Angeles, New York, Paris and Beijing, with smaller academies in Argentina, Mumbai, Barcelona, Cape Town and Mexico City. Each family had run an Academy since the founding of The Sanctum but there was little doubt that the London Breslin-led academy wielded the most power. Each had a specialty, like the Clayworth’s state-of-the-art weapons design or the Breslin’s Sanctum-renowned healers and all were known as centers for learning. What Dev’s parents failed to relay was how a family’s distinct personality could exhibit itself throughout the halls of the building.
All around her, everywhere she turned, Dev was surrounded by rich, deep earth tones, creating a welcoming and warm atmosphere. The furniture was plush and comfortable, inviting you to curl up on a couch and stay for a while. Books held a prominent position throughout the building and one could find stacks of them everywhere. Artwork from all over the Magical world hung on the walls and then there were the rugs. Some were ornate and plush, others were simple and threadbare but they were all beautiful and they were everywhere. The floors, the hallways, some were even on the walls. They seemed to tell a story of the Clayworth travels around the world and Dev was intrigued by all of them, convinced a few were from her side of the globe.
Book One: The Girl (The Sanctum) Page 25