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The Hunted (Blood Series Book 0)

Page 4

by T. Lynne Tolles


  Over the next seven days, a flurry of tokens from Devon arrived. Darby wasn’t sure how to react, as this was the first time she had ever been doted over. Her employee, Allison, had a lot of fun teasing Darby about the attention she was receiving from this mysterious new neighbor.

  Allison Dover had freckles and beautiful, curly, red hair that went down to the middle of her back. She was one of those gals that you never saw mad. She always seemed to be smiling. Allison had become Darby’s ‘Right-hand gal’ in business, so to speak. She had helped her make the bookstore a success and they weren’t just employee/employer; they were good friends.

  The first day, an amazing ancient book of alchemy was delivered. It was in almost perfect condition, bound in leather and all handwritten. The second day, four-dozen lavender roses came, representing the forty-eight hours he had been gone. The third day, a burglar outfit came for Harry, equipped with a black Zorro mask with cutouts for ears. The package also included a man-sized kitty bowl and a bag of kitty food to fill it. The fourth day, a RedHook Coleman cooler with two growlers of beer and ice were delivered. Also in the cooler was a RedHook tank top very similar to the one Darby had been wearing when she was caught watering in the yard. The fifth day, a very old book of Oljone history was delivered. It appeared to be a diary of one of the original settlers. The sixth day, a small hydrangea plant came with a new watering nozzle for the hose and a CD of Modern English. The seventh day, an exact duplicate of her favorite comfy blue chair at Paddy’s was delivered. The eighth and last day, a formal invitation was delivered to the bookstore at about 10:00 A.M. by overnight FedEx. It said:

 

  The pleasure of your presence is requested by Mr. Devon Bloomington for dinner this evening at 7:00 P.M. at his home.

  She was excited he was coming back, but she had to admit to herself that she was feeling a bit apprehensive about the date. She felt it had been so obvious he had lied about why he left that she worried about how that would play itself out.

  “So what did you get from the mystery man today?” Allison pressed Darby, referring to the overnight letter.

  “An invitation to dinner!” Darby handed the beautiful invitation to Allison.

  “Are you excited?”

  “Yeah! Nervous, excited and about a hundred other things.”

  “I know. First dates are like that. So why don’t you just do something witchy, and see into the future? That way you will know what to expect and you won’t be nervous anymore.”

  “Just because I come from a family of witches, doesn’t make me a practicing witch. My family hasn’t practiced witchcraft in at least one or more generations so nobody ever taught me to do anything.

  “I found our family book of shadows, and I have made a few charms from it to help me or Rowan sleep or get over a cold faster, but that’s about the extent of my witchiness. Rowan has actually taken a more active role in magic than I have. She’s learned to read tarot cards and runes.”

  “Huh. I always figured with opening a supernatural bookstore, that you were more active.”

  “No time. I’m interested in it, but aside from a book here and there, the bookstore takes up all my time. Besides, I’m not sure I have any talents. It’s not like I naturally have premonitions or cast spells. Some witches are naturally talented with those gifts; so far I haven’t come up with anything I’m gifted with, except a head for business.” Darby laughed and so did Allison.

  “Well, maybe you’ve just never been in the right situation for your gifts to present themselves.”

  “Maybe, but I don’t think I will hold my breath. Besides, do you really want to be working for a witch? I mean, if you don’t come in on time, I could hex or curse you with chicken pox or athlete’s foot,” Darby said jokingly.

  “Yeah. That could be a problem.” Allison laughed so hard, Darby was sure she saw tears.

  The rest of the day was like all days when there are anticipated plans in the evening, dragging at a snail’s pace. Darby swore she watched every hour on the clock go by. It was like the last day of the school year, waiting for the bell to ring so summer vacation could finally begin.

  She didn’t think the end of the day would ever come, but finally it did. She closed up the store in record time and raced home to take a shower and change. Since she was a bit nervous, she decided a beer might be a good idea. Besides, she had those two growlers in the ice chest. Wouldn’t want those to go to waste, she thought.

  Not knowing what attire would be appropriate, she went with a sundress. She figured it was at the guys’ house, how fancy could it be? She fed Harry in his new, more accommodating bowl and took a last swig of beer when the doorbell rang. She looked at the clock and saw it was two minutes to seven. She went to the front door and opened it to find Devon standing there, smiling and devastatingly handsome. He handed her a bouquet of dark purple delphiniums and sunflowers. How did he know those were my favorites?

  He was dressed in dark denim jeans and a white linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up almost to his elbows. His hair was pulled back in a small ponytail which kept it mostly out of his face.

  “Come in. Let me put these in water and we’ll head over,”

  she said as she headed to the back of the house and to the left where he could hear her filling what he figured was a vase. “Is there anything I should bring? I mean, we have a ton of beer here,” she laughed.

  He chuckled, “No, I think I have everything we need, but I promise we won’t let the growlers go to waste.” She headed back towards him with the flowers now soaking in a large, blue, glass vase. She set them on the big round coffee table in the living room. “May I say you look lovely, Darby?”

  “Thank you! You’re sweet. And thank you for all the amazing gifts – you really shouldn’t have gone to so much expense and trouble.”

  “Oh, but I had to. I disappointed you and I still feel horrible about that.”

  “Don’t be silly. I mean, I looked forward to our time together, but disappointed? No, I mean, you have no obligation to me.”

  “But I do. At least I’d like to,” he smiled and he held his hand out to take hers and continued, “Shall we?”

  “Sure.” She grabbed a light sweater that was lying on the back of the couch and he led her to the door, opening it for her.

  “Should I lock it?” he asked.

  “No. It’s fine. Pretty safe neighborhood and besides, we’re just next door. If someone starts taking large items out of the house, I think we will notice,” she responded.

  He smiled and closed the door behind them. They were walking down the steps of the porch when they heard squealing tires nearby that made them both turn their heads in the same direction.

  He turned back to her and smiled, continuing to lead her to the sidewalk, when they heard squealing tires turning on to their street. It was that beautiful, sexy, black car that had been in their driveway before they had left on their trip, coming fast towards them and turning into the driveway in front of them. She wasn’t sure how the handsome, very tall sinewy man turned off the car, opened the door, and got out of the car in the split second she saw him do it. The next thing she knew he was in front of them, keys in hand, and looking directly at Devon. He seemed about to speak when Devon introduced him to Darby.

  “Darby, this is my brother, Blake, a.k.a. ‘speed racer.’ Blake, this is Darby, my date for the evening and our new neighbor.”

  “Nice to meet you, Darby. I’m sorry to interrupt, but..,” Blake said.

  “I thought we agreed I had the house tonight,” Devon interrupted, smiling uncomfortably, and then looking again at Darby.

  “I know, I know, but something has come up,” Blake said. As if talking in some kind of brother code, he continued, “There’s a problem. It’s here in town...now...”

  While the brothers bickered back and forth about nothing that made much sense to Darby, she noticed a man had appeared across the street. She blinked
her eyes a couple of times to see if she was really seeing what she thought she was seeing. This man was huge. He looked like he had gone way overboard on the bodybuilding, steroids, and protein shakes. He wore black jeans, no shirt obviously trying to show off his physique, a long, black leather duster and a black hat. He must have been dying of heat stroke in that get-up.

  She thought, He must be going to a party. Why else would anyone dress like that in summer? To Darby, he looked like a Van Helsing wannabe; of course, he was lacking both the good looks of Hugh Jackman, and hair. He must know he stands out like a sore thumb dressed like that. A costume party must be the only explanation. Oddly though, he seemed to have his sights on the three of them.

  Quickly and fluidly, he flipped back the right side of his coat, revealing what appeared to be crossbow and it looked real AND loaded. He aimed it at them. He’s joking right? He must be. I mean he must know he looks ridiculous so he is playing it up. Right?

  Devon was more or less standing in front of her in relation to the crossbow. He and Blake had their sides to the Van Helsing guy, but Blake was angled a little bit more towards him and the guy caught his eye. Everything seemed to go into slow motion at that point. Blake pounced towards the guy in a blur of speed and ferocity that could only be described as something inhuman. At impact, there was a God awful snapping of what Darby could only imagine was the breaking of bones. Blake sent the man flying through the air over a parked car, landing with a thud on the ground behind it. There was no movement on the other side of the car.

  Unfortunately, before the man went down, he did get a shot off and it was headed right for Darby and Devon. As if he had read her thoughts or heard it coming, Devon turned and stepped into its path, completely shielding her from the arrow, as it hit him in the chest just below his right collarbone. His body went limp and he collapsed at her feet.

  Darby stared at Devon’s beautifully chiseled face as he fell to the ground and a wave of emotions engulfed her. At first, warmth spread over her, seeming to envelop her and Devon. She thought for a moment she could see into his soul. She could feel his pain and his anguish at putting her in danger. If not for a sheer gossamer layer she could not penetrate, she felt she could know everything about him in that very second.

  She had only experienced something like this one other time in her life and that was when Rowan had fallen out of a tree in the Duarte’s orchard when they were little girls.

  She could hear Rowan calling her in pain. That was so many years ago, she had almost forgotten. This was definitely the same feeling.

  Obviously he felt it too – maybe it was the panic of the situation – she wasn’t sure, but she could tell he felt it because despite all the chaos and the arrow in his chest, he was very calm now and smiling at her.

  Devon grimaced and closed his eyes in pain. Blake was headed towards Devon to see if he could help. Darby saw over his shoulder that the man with the crossbow was up again, and reloading. That’s when everything went white. Suddenly a look of surprise and terror came over the man as he too saw the flash of white light emanating from her, the willowy blonde with tears streaming down her face, Devon dying at her feet, and his handsome brother oblivious of what was behind him. She put her hand up as if telling Van Helsing guy to stop. He did. A light surged from her eyes and hand with a force like a hurricane that hit him hard. The energy threw him back thirty feet or so. Unfortunately for him, he ran into a tree during his flight. The sound was something like a splitting melon. She knew as soon as she heard the noise that Van Helsing guy had not survived the impact.

  Blake turned in time to see the man hit the tree. He stared at the attacker in disbelief. His brother was down, the attacker was down, and all that was standing was the blonde girl next to his brother. She was shaking and looked about ready to fall or throw up, he wasn't sure which. He was instantly at her side and helped her down to a sitting position. He looked at his brother, then at the attacker, and back to this shaking woman and marveled. What had happened? How did it happen?

  As if someone flipped a switch, Darby stopped shaking and looked at Blake with piercing blue eyes and said, “Help me get him to the car. We’ve got to get him to the hospital.”

  “No…Um we can’t do that. He can’t go to the hospital,” Blake said frantically.

  “You’re kidding, right? Why not? He’s bleeding and he’s got an arrow in his chest. We’ve got to do something!” Darby said.

  “I know that seems like the logical place to take him, but we just can’t. Please, trust me! If we can just get the arrow out and clean him up, he will be all right,” Blake argued.

  “Right now the arrow is acting as a plug; if we take it out, he’s going to bleed, a lot. He’s going to need stitches and he should be checked to see if any organs were hit,” Darby said.

  “Please, you need to trust me. I can’t tell you why, but if you want to save him, you have to trust me. Please!”

  “Oooo, no...are you two fugitives or something? Was that a bounty hunter?”

  “Something like that. If you feel anything for my brother, just let it go. Please. I can’t explain right now.”

  “Fine. Just help me get him inside; then you can go take care of the other guy and I’ll take care of your brother, but you owe me an explanation as to what the heck just happened.” What have I gotten drawn into? she thought.

  Blake looked at her, dumbfounded. “I was hoping you’d explain it to me.”

  She smiled and rolled her eyes. Jumping up she said, “You get him under the arms and I will get his feet.” Blake listened to his instructor and dutifully obeyed. Being very careful, he picked up his brother under the arms trying not to disturb the arrow.

  “We are going in my house straight back and to the right. We need to get him on the bed.”

  Once they had reached the bed and got Devon onto it, she said, “Next you need to help me get him on his side. We are going to have to pull the arrow all the way through.”

  Blake looked puzzled. She continued as if answering his question, “We have too. Didn’t you watch any cowboy and Indian movies? If we pull it back, the tip will do more damage, so we need to pull it all the way through as if it shot completely through him.”

  He still looked unsure and it was apparent he didn’t want to inflict any more pain on his brother than he had to.

  “Would you just get over here, you big sissy, and help me?

  The arrow has not hit his lung or his heart or we’d know it by now. Does he have an allergies or medical issues I should know about?” She asked.

  “You mean, aside from the arrow?” He said with a smirk on his face.

  “Well now, aren’t you a kick in the pants? Seriously, we’re losing time and he’s losing blood. Is there anything I should know?” she said again.

  Blake looked completely blank. Apparently when under pressure he wasn’t a very good liar, but more the comic relief.

  “Yes, we are both allergic to wood,” he said, but he would not look her in the eyes. Blake ripped Devon’s shirt off being very careful around the arrow. He put the remnants of the shirt under Devon to protect the bedding from being bloodied.

  “Wood? In General? Not a specific wood?”

  “Pretty much all wood to some degree, some more and some less. However, I think this arrow was either Yew or dipped in a mixture of ground Yew seeds. Did you see how fast he dropped? It’s got to be Yew; nothing else would have done that to him. Yew is quite poisonous to both of us,” he said.

  They turned Devon on his side and she straddled his torso.

  Blake looked confused, but he was up for anything that helped Devon.

  “Okay – wood – specifically Yew wood, then why don’t you run to the garage. There’s a workbench at the back with some big leather gloves hanging from a nail. Grab those and while you’re there, in the tool box to the right of the bench, grab some pliers.”

  He was gone in a flash a
nd was back in a minute or two. “Perfect. Now take the pliers and pull off the feather fletching at the back of the arrow.” Blake put one of the leather gloves on to hold the shaft steady while he carefully pulled the feathers off the arrow with the pliers.

  “Okay, now put the other glove on and get a good grip on the arrow tip and shaft sticking out of his back. We don’t want you going into anaphylactic shock from the wood. Have you got a hold of the arrow?” she asked Blake. He nodded.

  “All right. I’ve got him steady between my legs and I will hold his shoulders. You pull the arrow as straight as you can – on three.” She knew this was going to hurt Devon, but she hoped he would understand that this was the only way she knew to help him.

  She looked at Blake. “Okay, deep breath.” They both inhaled then exhaled. “One, two, three!”

  Blake pulled the arrow out with next to no effort, like a toothpick out of a piece of fruit – fluid and quick.

  Devon howled with pain and passed out.

  “It’s okay, Blake. He’s passed out from the pain. I can take care of him from here. Now you go do what needs to be done with the Van Helsing guy.”

  “Who?” Again he looked puzzled.

  She was starting to wonder if this was just a normal look for him. “Van Helsing guy – The Crossbow Guy across the street. Come on now, you saw him. Black hat, black leather duster, crossbow, classic Van Helsing look.” She rolled her eyes at having to explain.

  Finally he nodded in acknowledgement. He started to leave the bedroom when she asked, “Oh, and can you bring back a change of clothes for your brother?” He gave her a sly and devilish look, which she refused to even acknowledge.

  Apparently, Blake knew what needed to be done, because he shot out of there like a bullet, shutting the front door behind him.

  Darby sped to the kitchen and filled the kettle with water and turned the burner on. She headed across the hall to the linen closet and pulled out two towels and two wash cloths. She set these on the bed and went back to the kitchen. She grabbed a large bowl, the kettle, and the first aid kit. Carrying all this, she went back to the bedroom to start to work.

  I can’t lose him! she repeated over and over in her head. Then she thought, good thing I took that CPR/First Aid class last winter. She folded one of the towels, making a small, but very thick pad. She knew it would be uncomfortable, but the weight of his body on the folded up towel on his back would be enough pressure to slow any bleeding down until she could bandage it. She rolled him to his side and rolled him back onto the makeshift compress. She hoped he wasn’t horribly uncomfortable. She poured some hot water in the bowl and wet a washcloth and then began to clean the area around the wound. The more she cleaned, the smaller the wound seemed to get. Impossible, she thought. How can that be? At this point she didn’t think it would be necessary to have stitches. How is that possible?

  She poured some hydrogen peroxide onto the wound, checked for splinters, covered the wound up with a gauze patch and taped it in place. Next, she rolled him to his side, taking the makeshift compress out from beneath him along with his shirt and proceeded to clean the wound as she had the front. Here, too, the wound seemed smaller than it had been when she had put the compress on. She cleaned it with hot water, checked for splinters, applied some hydrogen peroxide, and attached a gauze patch. Amazing, she thought, the bleeding has almost completely stopped.

  She rolled him on his back, trying not to touch his wounds too much. She covered him with the quilt at the foot of the bed after removing his shoes. She looked at his beautiful angel face and turned out the light on the bedside table next to him. She grabbed all the bandage leftovers, the kettle, bowl and towels, and disposed of them in all the proper places. She set the kettle back on the stove, so she could have a cup of tea to settle her nerves. She cleaned the bowl she had used earlier, put some cool water in it, and then grabbed another washcloth out of the linen closet. She set everything on the other nightstand opposite of her patient. With her fingertips, she lightly brushed some stray hairs off of his face and applied the clean, cool washcloth to his forehead.

  Harry jumped up on the bed. She panicked, thinking Harry would do his ‘I want to be fed’ chest dance, but he seemed to know the seriousness of the situation and snuggled up against Devon’s body as if to offer him his warmth.

  When she went into the kitchen to get some more cool water and make her tea, she decided to fill Harry’s food bowl. No need in pushing our luck, after all. She returned to the bedroom and set her tea down on the nightstand. She fluffed and propped up some pillows so that she could sit and read in bed. Before she sat down, she grabbed a small wood chest off the dresser, set it on the bed, and grabbed the book of shadows. She sat down, took a sip of tea, checked her patient, and started thumbing through the ancient tome for something that might help any pain Devon might be feeling.

  She found a page with a list of stones and their healing capabilities. Combine the stones with specific herbs in a small velvet pouch and the patient should heal rapidly.

  Perfect. She opened the wooden chest and retrieved a velvet pouch, the stones, and the herbs needed to make the charm. After blessing the already cleansed and charged stones, she arranged them in the pouch along with the herbs and tucked the pouch in Devon’s front pocket. “There,” she said in a whisper, “That should help you rest and heal.”

  As she sat there, sipping her tea and reading Vampire Kisses by Ellen Schreiber, she was aware of every breath he made, every movement, everything. She calmed him when he was restless with the cool washcloth and by running her fingers over his forehead and into his hair, like a mother would do to comfort a sick child.

  Several hours had passed when Blake came in the back door.

  He almost got his head conked with the teakettle, but Darby recognized his silhouette before hitting him.

  “Remind me never to break in here at night,” he said as she lowered the teakettle.

  “I don’t think that is something that I should ever have to remind you,” she said matter-of-factly. He chuckled.

  “How’s he doing?”

  “Too soon to say, however, I didn’t have to give him any stitches as the holes ended up being smaller than I had expected.” She didn’t bother to mention that the wounds seemed to miraculously get smaller. She figured he’d think she was loony. She continued, “No stitches means less chance of infection. But I don’t know for sure that nothing else was hit, so I guess we just wait and see if he gets a fever. Then we worry. He seems to be resting peacefully right now. He was pretty restless at first, but that’s to be expected. Its not everyday Van Helsing guy shoots you with a crossbow. Speaking of Van Helsing guy, now might be a good time to tell me what the heck is going on.”

  At that moment Blake looked like a little boy – a six foot four inch little boy – innocent, scared, and not knowing what to do without his big brother to advise him. Like his brother, he had gorgeous brown eyes, but not exactly the same color, more milk chocolate brown with amber flecks. They were bright and rather hypnotizing, but there was a wildness there that his brother’s eyes lacked – which was perfectly okay with her.

  “So out with it,” she demanded.

 

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