Book One: The Girl (The Sanctum) (11 page)

"She can speak, all right. I heard her ask Wyatt to kill her."

"That's rich," Jools leaned into Ryker and wrapped his arm around her, ignoring the exaggerated look of surprise on his face as she did so, "seeing as she loves trying to kill people."

"So she did get you."

"Maybe a little."

Pulling Jools closer to him, Ryker kissed her head affectionately then closed his eyes, fighting the urge to fall asleep.

“Don’t let her get you, okay? Even a little.”

Jools smiled and snuggled in closer to Ryker, resting her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat.

“You have nothing to worry about. I won’t ever let her touch me again.”

Ryker chuckled softly.

“By the way, why does Wyatt have some insanely beautiful, strangely powerful, gimpy girl hidden in Darby’s house anyway?” Jools asked.

“Why do you think?” Ryker answered her question with a question, believing the answer to be obvious.

Jools pushed herself off Ryker’s chest to sit up, as if doing so would help her conjure an answer his question.

“I have no idea. Seriously, none whatsoever.”

Ryker opened his tired eyes and smiled lazily at Jools.

“That,” Ryker pointed at Dev, “is Carter Breslin’s hybrid.”

“No way,” Jools
shook her head in disbelief.

“Yes.”

“Uh-uh,” Jools still didn’t believe Ryker, “no freaking way.”

“Cross my heart. She,” Ryker again pointed at Dev, “is the hybrid we’ve all been sent out to hunt. Your brother found her when we were sweeping the quadrants in Central Park.”

Jools leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, getting a good look at Dev, all the while maintaining a healthy distance.

“Un-freaking-believable.”

As the night wore on, Dev suffered through several more levels of Jools’ shock and awe. She was thankful for her earlier attack on the younger Clayworth; had she not committed the act, Jools would be poking, prodding and exposing her to all sorts of other examinations and humiliations throughout the night. Instead, the girl studied at her from afar, asked all sorts of questions from afar and made all kinds of statements. From afar. Which was perfectly fine with Dev, since for the time being, her mind was otherwise preoccupied.

While Ryker and Jools were discussing Dev, too absorbed in their conversation to notice anything or anyone else, she was busy wiggling her toes and moving her feet. It happened slowly at first, an almost imperceptible sensation of air on her toes. It was so slight that Dev thought she imagined it at first, figuring the feeling to be a byproduct of a desperate mind. But a few minutes later she realized with excitement that she was, in fact, regaining not only feeling but also movement in her lower extremities. She was careful to be inconspicuous about her newfound capabilities, not wanting to draw attention to herself, knowing Ryker and Jools would panic if they felt she might become mobile.

Dev also didn't want to get ahead of herself. What if her body suddenly stopped repairing itself, leaving her just as crippled as she was now? Coupled with everything else she had recently endured, Dev could not afford further devastation. It was self-preservation not to get too excited about a couple of now fully mobile feet.

Half an hour later, as Ryker and Jools talked themselves to sleep on the couch, hoping to wake and find a much-improved Wyatt, Dev was slowly walking around the room on her newly revived legs. She had to hold onto furniture and brace herself against the walls, but she was mobile and her legs were lovely. She wanted to cry out in happiness as she passed the sleeping couple and headed across the room, moving at a snail’s pace but doing so unassisted. On the other side of the room, she caught sight of Jools' blades, carelessly left on a side table and grabbed them, using the girl's holster to strap the weapons around her own hips. She then took the knife she stole earlier and tied it around her thigh. Feeling the heft of the weapons against her body comforted her; it was time to leave.

Standing by the window perfectly still, Dev listened closely for any evidence of Darby, not wanting the vampire to hear her escape. The last thing she needed right now was a fight with the undead. Satisfied Darby was nowhere nearby and definitely not on the premises, Dev quietly moved towards the doors that opened onto the balcony, figuring it was much stealthier than waltzing out the front door. With her hand on the doorknob and the whole city just footsteps away, Dev could taste her freedom. It was so close. And yet, she paused.

Those few seconds of indecision spoke volumes.

Dev leaned her head against the door and cursed herself. This was not going the way she envisioned. But no matter how many times she told herself “this is not part of my plan,” the fact remained something would not let her leave without saying goodbye to Wyatt.

Dev silently crossed the room to Wyatt's bedside, prepared to wake the boy with a knife to his throat in case he tried to prevent her departure. She would let him know she appreciated his hospitality but she really had to run. But as she neared the bed she put away her blade, realizing with a start she would not be needing it.

Although Jools had taken great pains to tuck her brother tightly into bed, he managed to kick the sheets away and Dev now had an unhindered view of the extensive damage his body suffered in the evening's attack. He was a shredded, bloody mess covered in voile bandages that were doing more harm than good. Since he had vampire blood in his system, Wyatt’s body was healing itself. Keeping him wrapped up in voile only served to hold in toxins his body needed to release. And not cleaning the mjestec paste out of his wounds was only making his pain worse, as the blood and the paste were never meant to be used together. All this Dev knew thanks to her mother.

With a sad sigh and against her better judgment, she closed the distance between herself and Wyatt and began gently removing his bandages, exposing first his arms and then his chest. His fair skin was covered in markings similar to those Ryker wore, but Wyatt's were now ripped apart by the wolf's claws. Just hours earlier, he had been this beautiful stranger determined to help her for reasons unbeknownst, now he was gruesome to behold and Dev had to give herself a few moments before she was ready to start working on him.

She stood quietly over Wyatt with her eyes closed, her long hair falling down and forming a cocoon around him, trying to convince herself she could do this when she felt him touch her arm. Opening her eyes and looking down at Wyatt, she could see that his eyes remained closed but his hand sought hers. Without considering the repercussions of her actions, Dev gently grasped his hand and felt Wyatt relax immediately.

"Wyatt," she whispered.

He slowly turned his head towards her, his face full of apprehension and wonder.

"I promise I'm not going to hurt you," Dev whispered as she gently pushed Wyatt's sweat-soaked hair off his forehead, "but I have to remove the bandages from your neck."

Wyatt closed his eyes, amazed to hear Dev's voice and see her face, but in so much pain he could barely think straight.

"It might hurt because I'm going to have to move you around a little but I need you to stay quiet. Please."

Wyatt understood and squeezed her hand slightly, hoping she knew he would remain silent.

Dev stood up tall and once again, told herself she could do this. She carefully started unraveling the bandages, then ever-so-gently lifted Wyatt so she could bring it behind his head and continue unwinding. Repeatedly she did this, knowing each time she lifted him probably felt like death itself; she wondered how Wyatt remained silent throughout the ordeal. When she finished and finally laid his head back on his pillow, Dev noticed tears running down the sides of his face, a testament to his suffering, and gently brushed them aside without comment.

She caressed his cheek, wishing she could diminish his pain, all the while wondering what was happening to her. Since crossing paths in the park, Dev had been fighting the incessant pull she felt towards Wyatt. For one, he was the enemy she had been raised to loathe and another, she simply didn’t understand needing someone so suddenly and so intensely. All her life, Dev had been a solitary creature of fierce independence. She had one friend, but she didn’t need him, he certainly never clouded her thoughts and judgment.

Wyatt did.

Wyatt messed with her plans. Plans she made for herself. To carry out herself.

Alone.

And now, here he was, a bloody, pulpy mess she found impossible to walk away from and it infuriated her.

“Wyatt.”

His only response was a slight movement of his head.

“I’m so sorry, but I’ve got to clean the mjestec out of your wounds.”

Wyatt shook his head in disagreement, unsure he could handle any more pain.

Dev ran her long fingers through Wyatt’s hair, an incredibly affectionate gesture, wanting to comfort him any way she could, knowing what he was about to endure was pain like no other. She then walked over to Ryker’s bag, which he dumped by the door when he brought Wyatt upstairs and dug out the items she needed to go to work.

The potions of The Sanctum were familiar to her since her mother had created all of them. Seeing the various bottles and boxes in Ryker's bag brought on a flood of memories, but Dev set them aside and focused on the task at hand, telling herself that if she could get Wyatt on the road to recovery, then she could properly say goodbye to him and be on her merry way. She tied her hair into a knot on the top of her head, filled her arms with the items she needed and turned to head back to Wyatt.

"Kindly explain why you are going through my bag," Ryker quietly hissed as he glared down at Dev, arms crossed, brow furrowed, preventing her passage.

Dev simply stared at him, shocked to be caught.

Ryker studied the items in her arms and felt a fury like no other rising throughout his body. He had no idea what Dev was plotting, but there was no way he was letting her touch his friend.

"Don't even think about taking another step closer to Wyatt."

She smiled at him, fully understanding Ryker meant well, but just as determined to have her way.

"Don't you even think of stopping me. I'm going to help him instead of watching the nonsense the whole lot of you have put him through. Does The Sanctum no longer believe in healers?" she asked rhetorically, "because despite what you think, he needs one or he's going to die and it’s going to be a slow, painful death. So you can try standing in my way all you want but I promise you this: I will get around you.

"I don’t want to hurt you because he seems to love you dearly, but if you make me pick between you and him, I’m picking him. So you keep testing me and see how that works out for you," Dev dared Ryker, furious she had to threaten him, but unsure how else to handle him, fully cognizant she was in no state for a fight.

Ryker studied Dev in all of her beautiful, dangerous fury and understood why she and Wyatt connected instantly: for being so different, they were exactly alike.

"Hurt him," Ryker stepped aside so Dev could pass, "and trust me when I say this: it will become my personal mission to hunt you down and make sure you die a slow, painful death."

Ignoring Ryker’s unpleasant promise, Dev headed for Wyatt’s bedside, hating what she was about to do, but knowing she had no choice. Wyatt felt her presence and opened his eyes, fearing what was about to happen, understanding it was the only way to get better.

“Hi,” Dev smiled down at Wyatt.

He saw right through her. That wasn’t the smile of a girl happy to see him, it was the smile of a girl trying to prep him for something horrible.

“I can’t take it,” Wyatt rasped.

“You can, I know you can,” Dev insisted, trying to sound confident and light, “plus, your friend over there has threatened my life if I don’t fix you up, so I really have no choice.”

Wyatt closed his eyes and chuckled softly.

“Ignore him.”

Dev glanced over at Ryker, who was standing close by like a watchdog, paying close attention to every move she made, glaring at her, totally not amused.

“He’s really large and rather hard to ignore.”

“I can promise you,” Wyatt whispered hoarsely, his eyes remaining closed as if hoping to shut out the pain, “you’re one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever seen in his life. He’s putty in your hands.”

Dev felt herself blush; Ryker put his head down to hide a grin.

“I would much rather help you than test the veracity of your theory,” Dev whispered as she leaned in close to him, “plus, he’s not really my type.”

That statement brought a smile to Wyatt’s lips and signaled to Dev it was time to start the torture. She quietly set about organizing the bottles and boxes, making sure they were close by so she could work quickly. Dev could feel Ryker’s eyes on her, watching her every move.

“I’m not going to kill him,” she said quietly.

“Oh, I know that,” Ryker continued glaring at her, “but I’m onto you. You won’t kill him now, but you’ll do it later.”

Dev shot him a questioning look.

“Spare me the doe eyes,” Ryker stated, “I know why you want him all fixed up. So when you make your great escape you can do it with a clear conscience, satisfied that he didn’t die on some stupid mission those Sanctum idiots sent him on, searching for you.”

She started to defend herself, but Ryker cut her off, not interested in hearing whatever lie she was going to tell.

"Don't," he warned, "just do whatever you have to and then get the hell out of our lives."

Wyatt turned toward his friend and did his best to grin through his pain.

"I'm not dead yet. I can hear everything you're saying."

"Good," Ryker stated matter-of-factly, "then you won't be surprised when you wake up and she's gone."

Wyatt rolled his eyes and smiled tiredly.

"I know you're worried but she's not going to hurt me."

"Really? You know that for a fact?" Ryker asked, his stress and fear getting to him. "Why? Because you know her so well? Because you trust her? You don't even know her freaking name, Wyatt!"

"Enough!"

Dev stepped between the boys, taking Ryker by the arms, leading him to a chair and sitting him down. She knelt in front of him, making him look her in the eyes and really see her.

"You need to calm down," she spoke soothingly, maintaining eye contact and breathing deeply. "You're going to take a deep breath and sit here for a minute to settle yourself. Then you're going to come back, nice and calm, and help me."

Dev stared at Ryker hard and with purpose, making sure she overpowered him and willed him to her command. It wasn't a high point for her character-wise and she was fully aware that he would forever hate her if he knew the mind games she was playing with him, but he gave her little choice.

"Okay,” Ryker eventually replied, “if you say so.”

She could not help but grin. Even when being controlled with a small does of telekinesis, Ryker obstinately held on to a piece of himself.

Satisfied he would do exactly as she demanded, Dev returned to Wyatt's side.

"Did you just," Wyatt started to ask, wondering the extent of Dev’s capabilities.

"I did," Dev cut him off, shaking her head, not wanting to hear her actions spoken aloud, “and I'm not proud of it, but he was getting rowdy."