Book One: The Girl (The Sanctum) (2 page)

Wyatt tossed his
pack onto his shoulder and started walking towards the east side of the park. No one noticed the sword crisscrossing his back or the blades running down his right leg after he used his partial glamours to make them invisible. Ryker was similarly glamoured, his weapons completely unseen by the average passersby, but that didn’t mean a thing. Weapons or no weapons, everyone noticed Ryker.

“Can we go anywhere without your harem?” Wyatt shook his head at the trail of girls following Ryker.

Ryker turned around and smiled at a dark-haired, attractive girl.

“Not their fault I’m irresistible.”

“Did it ever cross your mind to make yourself invisible?”

“Glamour myself?” Ryker’s eyes widened with shock as he held out his arms and gestured wildly. The boy’s wingspan was unbelievable. “No way. I am a warrior and these are my spoils, Wyatt. I deserve this. Plus, if I make myself invisible, you’ll just step in and steal my shine.”

Wyatt squinted his eyes, making the wrinkle between them even deeper, contemplated something smart and then thought better of it. This was one of Ryker’s favorite games: Theories on What Makes Wyatt Tick. Today’s discussion would focus on Ryker’s firmly held belief that Wyatt’s lack of interest in the opposite sex stemmed from the fact that his one and only real desire was to take over the Academy and lord it over everyone else. Rather than engage Ryker in the endless debate for the thousandth time, Wyatt took a decidedly more lighthearted route.

“If your main concern is me stealing one of your random hookups, then you’ve got nothing to worry about. Those girls don’t even see me.”

Ryker stopped in his tracks and stared at Wyatt. Despite being a couple of inches taller than his friend, he was confident they saw things eye-to-eye, except when it came to the topic of girls.

Ryker placed his hands on Wyatt’s shoulders, forcing Wyatt to look him dead in the eye.

“My man, I’m only going to say this once and mostly because it sounds a little girly coming out of my mouth and I’ve got a reputation to maintain. But also because it’s a little crazy that I’ve even got to go down this road with you. You’re a good looking dude and if you’d get your head out of your ass sometime, actually, out of the ass of The Sanctum, you’d notice all the female attention that gets thrown your way.”

Wyatt shook off Ryker’s hands and casually shot back, “How can you be so sure I’m even into girls? Ever cross your mind that maybe I’m not as hetero-centric as you?”

“I wish you were into guys. At least it would mean you’re into something,” Ryker shot back, suddenly sounding quite serious.

“Do you honestly think I want to play this game of being the ladies man one thousand percent of the time? For the record, the answer is no, I do not. It’s exhausting and yes, there are times when even I don’t feel like entertaining the fairer sex. But someone’s gotta deflect the attention away from you when you start doing that awkward song and dance you seem to favor these days.”

Ryker’s words got under Wyatt’s skin, irking the boy.

“That’s rich, seeing as I spend all of my time deflecting attention away from you and the rebel-without-a-cause song and dance you’re so fond of displaying for The Sanctum these days.” Wyatt jabbed an accusatory finger into his friend’s chest, “ You want to talk about exhausting. Constantly defending you is exhausting.”

Wyatt found himself shouting in Ryker’s face and could not begin to explain why. He was usually so laid back, rarely losing his cool over anything, and certainly not over such a silly topic. If anything, this was the conversation that always led to roaring laughter between the boys, never devolving into something rather serious.

Whether or not Ryker was surprised by Wyatt’s outburst, he didn’t let on. Instead he very solemnly took a step in Wyatt’s direction, standing so close the boys were virtually nose-to-nose.

“Clayworth, if I knew I got you so hot and bothered, I would have kissed you a long time ago.”

Ryker then closed his eyes, puckered up and starting laughing that deep, belly laugh he was famous for. Wyatt shoved Ryker out of his way with a laugh and continued walking up the path.

“You’re an ass, you know that?”

Ryker caught up to Wyatt and wrapped his arm around his best friend’s neck.

“And you’re an idiot, but I love you all the same. Now let’s get out of here. I need a drink.”

With a speed
unrivaled, Dev leapt the gate and flew into the house. She held a long knife in one hand and her sword, Daya, in the other. The sword throbbed in her hand like never before, as if it had a life of its own, but she wasn’t paying attention. All that mattered was finding her mother.

“Ma?” Dev quietly called into her parents’ bedroom.

Getting no response, she continued down the long hallway, checking each room she passed. They were empty but recently used, as evidenced by the slept-in beds, sheets haphazardly tossed aside, pillows strewn across the floor. The entire scene evoked complete panic, sheer terror.

The hallway opened onto an extraordinarily large living room, where Dev’s parents loved to entertain family and friends. As she neared the room, hundreds of memories flashed before her eyes: meeting her baby brother, getting her first sword, learning the ways of magic, watching her mother heal others, listening to her father train warlocks, playing with her best friend.

Happiness.

As she crept closer to the open space, sweat trickling down the small of her back, blades ready to kill, Dev felt anything but joy.

She leaned against the wall and gathered herself, breathing deeply through her nose, closing her eyes and opening herself to outside forces. Dev’s mind pushed out to the boundaries of her home, feeling along the walls, into the cracks of the foundation, up to the roof and continued along, covering each and every space, taking in the scents and traces of all who had entered. And exited.

And every sign pointed to The Sanctum. The enforcers of The Code of Ten, divine humans empowered to maintain the order of all magical beings, warriors with a mission to kill those gone rogue. Judge and jury rolled into one, incredibly powerful and morally corrupt. Since their creation, The Sanctum had been led by The Circle of Ten, otherwise known as the ten founding families. However, all who had contact with The Sanctum knew the Breslin family, one of the Circle of Ten, was really running the show. Generations of Sanctum men and women rarely questioned Breslin leadership and those who dared, learned quickly never to cross the family, for the consequences were dire: expulsion, ruin, death. It was the Breslin way.

Dev suspected her parents had done just that. It was the only explanation for their seeming overnight fall from grace. One day, Philip was Chief Magjistar to The Sanctum, Maya Sole Healer, both having served the Breslins for generations; the next day, the family was hidden under layers upon layers of the most powerful glamours ever conjured, creating a new home along the backwater channels of Kerala, thousands of miles away from Sanctum leadership. In essence, the most powerful warlocks of The Sanctum were on the run.

“Ma...please,” Dev whispered, hoping for a response. She got none and in an effort to quell the panic starting to course through her system, Dev practiced one of the first exercises she learned from her father: stretching her mind to touch his and hone her skill of reading others’ energy and thoughts. Dev was no longer a little girl, sitting on her father’s lap, struggling to feel his thoughts; she was a heavily trained, highly skilled, eighteen year-old warrior, so it was easy to scan the entire compound for any traces of her family members. In a matter of moments, she was able to ascertain that her family, including her mother, was nowhere on the premises and immediately, some of the tension in her body dissipated.

Dev replaced Daya on her hip and exchanged her long blade for her favorite short one, finding it a more comfortable fit. Although she knew she was in the house alone, she crept along the wall in silence, not willing to take a chance, finding the whole scene unsettling. She raised her arm to wipe the sweat from her brow and caught sight of herself in her blade: hollow cheeks and haunted eyes. When did she become this girl? she wondered to herself, then quickly pushed the thought aside, psyching herself up to turn the corner and inspect the living room.

Nothing in this world or any other could prepare her for what awaited.

Wyatt opened the
door and walked into The Liquor Store, leaving the bright sunshine of 15th street for the dimly lit confines of the bar. He didn’t know why he let Ryker talk him into stopping for a drink, but now that they were here, he figured he might as well grab one.

The boys pulled up seats at the far corner of the bar and waited for the bartender to make it to their side. They weren’t in a rush, nor were they worried about being served. No one ever questioned their age—they were both so tall and battle-worn, most people would never guess they were only eighteen years old.

“Call your sister and tell her to meet us here.”

Wyatt raised an eyebrow and shot Ryker a look that was anything but agreeable.

“You want to hang with Jools so badly, you call her.”

It wasn’t that Wyatt didn’t like his sister, but lately she was so competitive with him about everything, it was starting to drive him crazy. He could not spend ten minutes with her without being quizzed on every demon, werewolf or fairy that crossed his path. She wanted details on all his kills and seemed annoyed when his blood-thirst didn’t run as deep as hers.

Jools Clayworth was seventeen, tough as nails and drop dead gorgeous. The spitting image of her brother, she was all dark hair and green eyes, tall, lean and one hundred percent muscle. Unlike her brother, she was outspoken, difficult and needed to be the center of attention at all times. She went into every situation believing guys only wanted to get into her pants and girls only wanted to get rid of her. To say she walked around with a chip on her shoulder was a bit of an understatement.

For the life of him, Wyatt could not figure out how or when Jools became so hardcore, but it was the only word that properly described his sister. Initially he assumed Jools would enter The Academy and take the easy way out, getting by on her looks and the fact that their parents ran the place. Up to that point in time, that’s exactly what she had been doing so it never crossed Wyatt’s mind anything would change when she walked through the training doors. Boy had he been wrong.

Jools took The Academy by storm, ferociously battling opponents, outwitting any tests and attacking anyone who dared make note of her physical appearance or her last name. And god forbid anyone said anything about Wyatt. Academy members, students and instructors alike, quickly learned to stay out of her way and make nice at all times. Wyatt secretly loved the fact that his sister seemed to wield more authority--or was it fear?--around the Academy than even their parents. But all the admiration in the world didn’t mean Wyatt wanted to spend what remained of his afternoon with Jools.

“Stop being a baby and call her.” Ryker instructed Wyatt as he ordered drinks for the boys.

Ignoring him, Wyatt pulled out his small quadrant map of the park and reviewed the day’s sweep. As much as he hated to admit it, Ryker was right. The assignment was garbage and beneath the boys, a complete waste of their talent. They were natural-born fighters, meant to hunt and kill rogue Magicals, not spend their days sweeping parks for violations that did not exist. He could not figure out what they had done to deserve a demotion, all he knew was that it came down prior to the European meeting of The Circle of Ten. His mom presented it as some “down time” for the boys, a chance to gather themselves and relax a little before their final exams. But Wyatt and Ryker never needed to relax and the idea of needing to “gather themselves” before finals was simply insulting. Wyatt and Ryker were the best Class A Warriors The Sanctum had seen in generations. They were unmatched and currently wasting away on some crap assignment. He could only hope his parents’ return to New York would bring an end to this nonsense.

The bartender set their drinks down in front of them, turning Wyatt’s attention away from the map. He took a long, hard sip from his glass, finishing its contents before setting it down again.

“You’ve gotta be the only guy I know who sits down in a bar to drink a glass of grapefruit juice,” Ryker laughed then tipped his glass in Wyatt’s direction and took a drink, before pulling out his phone and doing what Wyatt seemed determined not to. Being right around the corner at The Academy, conducting training exercises for new recruits, Jools walked into the bar two seconds later. Wyatt didn’t even have to check the door to know it was her--the looks on everyone’s faces were enough to know his sister had just entered the room.

“Hey losers,” Jools pulled up a stool between the boys and kissed both of them.

Wyatt grimaced and wiped his cheek, unsure if his disgust was being kissed by his little sister or watching every dude in the bar undress her with their eyes. “Have you got to do that every time you see me?”

Jools ran her fingers through her brother’s short, dark hair and chuckled, knowing he hated public displays of affection.

“You know I do.”

Wyatt shot his sister a look of irritation, but remained quiet. Resisting Jools was an exercise in futility.

Jools reached out and touched the spot between Wyatt’s eyebrows, like she had done a million times before.

“Wyatt, you keep making those faces at me and this ugly wrinkle you’ve got growing between those pretty eyes of yours is only going to get deeper.”

Ryker laughed as Wyatt shoved his sister’s hand away from his face.

“Leave him alone, Jools,” Ryker warned with a joke in his voice, “he’s got his panties in a bunch today.”

Jools happily turned her attention to Ryker, who, in her humble opinion, was the much more appealing member of the pair.

“He’s always got his panties in a bunch. It wouldn’t be a complete day for Wyatt without worrying about something he hadn’t done perfectly for The Sanctum,” Jools stated with a wink at Ryker and then ordered a drink.

Wyatt cast his sister a sideways glance.

“You did not just order a drink.”

Jools ignored her brother, knowing full well he was about to lecture her.

“Chill out, man,” Ryker mumbled.

Ryker hated getting in the middle of a sibling spat, but he really didn’t see the point. In his mind, if they were old enough to kill, they were old enough to drink.

“Butt out, Ryker,” Wyatt replied, never taking his eyes off his sister, daring her to defy him.

“Oh, Wyatt. Relax,” Jools smiled her sweetest smile, “it’s just a drink with friends.”

“You’re sixteen.”

“Seventeen, thank you.”

“It’s underage.”

With that, Jools could not help but laugh.

“Says who? The New York City police officer standing on the corner? Because in case you forgot, I’m the trained assassin who keeps his ass safe enough to walk his lame beat around Union Square every day. While he’s chasing those weeded out kids away from McDonald’s, I’m killing rogue vampires and rabid demons. But god forbid, I stop by a bar and relax with my favorite brother and his hot-as-hell best friend.”

Ryker looked down at his drink, suddenly very focused on its contents, trying to hide his grin from his best friend, knowing the younger sibling had once again won the battle of wills.

Wyatt ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. Jools was right but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

“I’m your only brother.”

Jools took a sip of her drink and wrapped an arm around Wyatt, pulling him close. “Which only makes me love you more. Now please, stop trying to lecture me and just relax. No one from The Sanctum will ever know I was in here. You have nothing to worry about. When it comes to you, big brother, my lips are sealed.”