Parahuman (Parahuman Series) (21 page)

     Laney
hadn’t hesitated trusting Devan with the wolf situation, but to trust that his
uncle would be able to fix his arm…and what about the blood loss? “Devan…”

    
“Please.”

    
Laney’s heart clenched at the helplessness of that plea; like he was too
fatigued to be able to stop her if she refused, but hoped like hell that she
would do as he asked.

     She
heaved out a huge sigh. “Okay.” Keeping her eyes on the road she reached over
and patted his leg in reassurance. Laney felt the stiffness leave his body at
her agreement and his hand moved over to rest on top of hers. It was the first time
he’d relaxed from her touch and made an effort to voluntarily touch her. Laney
flipped her hand over and squeezed it in comfort. He returned it gently.

     “You
may find out some things that could turn your entire world upside down. I hope
it doesn’t cause you to hate me too much.” Devan’s voice sort of faded toward
the end.

    
Alarmed, Laney looked away from the road toward Devan. He was slumped
unconscious in his seat. Her hand flew to his chest; thankfully, he was still
breathing. Okay…just passed out then. Even unconscious his presence was
imposing. Laney pulled her hand away to shift gears. She needed to get him to
his uncle fast.

     It
was about a twenty minute drive to the old Moss place and whenever she wasn’t
shifting Laney had a finger on Devan’s pulse at his wrist. It seemed to be
really slow which was freaking her out and almost her turning around, but they
were closer to his house than town and if it was true that his uncle knew what
he was doing than he needed the help soon. Moreover, driving down the bumpy
dirt road leading to his house didn’t elicit any response from him, and it was
an exceedingly rough ride since she took it at a higher speed than was good for
the jeep, but better that the jeep’s suspension gets trashed than Devan dying
on her.

     Laney
pulled up in front of his house and a man came running out as though expecting
them. The uncle? Swinging the jeep around so the passenger side faced the front
door Laney turned off the vehicle and jumped out. The man looked at Laney in
surprise as she sprinted around the jeep to open the passenger door.

     “He
said you were the only one who could help him. His arm is all torn up and
bleeding really badly. He passed out twenty minutes ago hasn’t woken up since.”
Laney tapped Devan’s cheek softly and then a little more forcefully when he
didn’t respond. Reaching for his good hand she gave it a squeeze. “Devan! You
need to wake up. There is no way we are going to be able to carry you.” Laney
was almost crying at this point.

    
Devan’s eyes flickered open and Laney almost howled in joy when she saw those
eyes of his. He squeezed her hand in return.

    
“Devan.” The man sidled in next to Laney and she moved over as far as she could
without releasing Devan’s hand. He looked down at their joined hands with
speculation before switching his attention to Devan’s injured arm. The man placed
his fingers on Devan’s wrist. “Devan, can you hear me?” The man’s voice was
almost professional rather than affectionate. Almost like a doctor rather than
a family member. Maybe he had been a doctor before he retired and was slipping
into his professional mode.

    
Devan’s gaze moved from Laney to the man.

    
“Good, you’re focusing. I can bring everything out here if I need to, but it
would be better if we could go inside; if you think you can walk tell me?”

     Devan
raised his head off the seat. “I can walk.” He swung his legs out and stood up.
Laney kept a tight grip on his hand and scooted up next to him again in case he
lost his balance. The man continued to watch them with bemused consideration,
but he leaned up against Devan’s other side as they walked into the house.
Laney paid no attention to the interior of the house as they made for a room
toward the back; a bedroom.

     They
both helped him to lie down and Devan closed his eyes directly once his head
hit the pillow; his face was deathly pale. Laney still held tightly to Devan’s
hand, and he didn’t seem to want to let go anyway.  

     “He
needs to go to the clinic for blood and stitches; he’s so white.” Laney said
fearfully.  

     “I
have everything that he needs right here.” The man stated authoritatively.

     Laney
finally took note of her surroundings to see that there was an I.V. stand next
to her with two bags hanging from it; one contained what looked like…blood! The
other held a clear liquid. On the small dresser next to the bed a handful of
medical tools and supplies were arranged.

     The
man came around to her side of the bed. “I need to get in there to hook up the
I.V.”

     Laney
reluctantly released Devan’s hand as the man went about inserting two needles
into his arm. Laney winced as each needle slid into his skin, but Devan seemed
to take no notice of the pricks. The man looked quite adept at the whole
doctoring routine; taping the needles to his arm and fiddling with some knobs
on the lines. He then went around to the other side and pulling another syringe
from the dresser he injected it in Devan’s injured arm.

   
Sitting down on the bed at his departure Laney took hold of Devan’s hand again,
and a slight squeeze told her that Devan was still alert to his surroundings.
Her anxiety lessened only slightly at his consciousness and at the sight of
blood flowing back into his body. Why this was all here was a bit disturbing
and raised
a lot
of questions, but Laney recognized now was not the
time.

     “Is
he going to be alright?” Laney asked anxiously.

     The
man had set aside the needle and was working on undoing the material around
Devan’s arm. Keeping his gaze fixed on his task he answered. “Yes.”

     Laney
saw where Devan got his chattiness, but the absolute certainty in his tone did
wonders in relieving many of Laney’s fears.

     The
man worked silently as he removed the makeshift binding from Devan’s arm.
Laney’s stomach clenched as the wounds were revealed. Three long gashes ran
down his arm, one in particular was deep and still sluggishly bleeding. The man
laid a few more towels under his arm to soak up the blood. He then began poking
a prodding. Laney ran soothing fingers over Devan’s hand but he showed no signs
of discomfort at the invasive digging. His body remained still and his
breathing steady as though he were sleeping peacefully, but Laney knew he was
awake because every now and then he would squeeze her hand as though comforting
her.  

     When
the man was done cleaning he picked up a surgical staple gun and began closing
the most severe of Devan’s gouges. Laney winced each time a staple snapped into
his skin. Feeling a soothing rub against her wrist Laney looked down to see
Devan’s thumb stroking circles on her skin.

     She
looked up to see that Devan’s eyes were open, and they were focused intently
upon her. The clicking of the staple gun faded into the background as Laney was
sucked into magnetic golden eyes; unable to look away.

     The
color reminded her of an owl she’d once seen, but unlike that animal’s vacant
stare Devan’s held a multitude of emotions. There was pain, pain that he kept
rigidly maintained, and anxiety. 

     What
really caught her attention was the longing. Laney recognized it because she
felt it in her own heart, and she knew it was reflected in her eyes the same as
his. That might be where the anxiety was coming from because she was feeling it
also. It disturbed her, the powerful feelings she had for Devan, but even
though she might be somewhat disturbed by it she knew it wouldn’t stop her from
helping him in any way she could.

     “Devan;
I’m going to turn you over on your side so I can get your back.”

    
Devan’s gaze suddenly broke from hers causing Laney to blink in bemusement.
Looking around she noticed that the man—she really needed to find out his
name—was finished with Devan’s arm and was observing them both with what looked
like astonishment and confusion.

     Laney’s
face reddened in embarrassment at the thought that her feelings were stamped
across her face for all to see. She didn’t need others observing and
speculating over her thoughts and feelings before she was able to figure them
out for herself.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

     Devan
pulled his gaze from Laney with difficulty and settled it on Brett who was
finished with his arm, and was now staring at Devan with anxiety, confusion and
astonishment. Brett’s eyes flickered down and Devan knew that he was taking
notice of his and Laney’s entwined hands, and even though Devan felt the weight
of the apprehensive gaze he didn’t let go. It felt...nice; more than nice
actually. Serenity and a sort of completeness enveloped him.

     Still
holding Laney’s hand Devan rolled over so Brett could clean and bandage the
claw punctures in his shoulders.

     After
a few minutes he tapped Devan’s back. “All done.”

     Devan
rolled to his back.

     Brett
raised his gaze. “I’m going to wrap your arm and you need to take these
antibiotics.” Brett handed over two pills. Devan popped them in his mouth and
swallowed them with the help of the glass of water Brett passed him.

     Brett
picked up a roll of medi wrap and iodine for his arm. “This could have been a
really close call.”

     Devan
heard Laney’s breath catch softly. He looked over at her to see her giving him
a frightened and accusatory expression. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze
as he looked into her eyes. “I was monitoring my vitals.”

     She
gave a shake of her head and a ‘humph’ in response, and the accusatory
expression on her face said she wasn’t impressed with his abilities.

     “I
was monitoring your vitals too, on the way here, and your pulse was really
weak.” Laney accused with a catch in her voice.  

     Devan
heard acute anxiety in her tone and a heavy weight settled on his chest. It
felt like…guilt. Devan thought he had felt a touch while in deep meditation. He
had slipped into it to slow his heart rate, which therefore decreased his blood
flow resulting in less blood loss. He hadn’t expected that she would worry
about him to this extreme, so even though guilt weighed him down another
emotion settled in his chest that she cared so much, and it felt nice.

     “My
pulse was slow because I went into a deep meditative state.” Devan explained,
hoping to alleviate her concern. “The meditation slows my physiological
functions, reducing my heart rate and blood flow. I’m sorry; I should have
explained to you what I was doing.”

     Laney’s
reproachful expression didn’t lessen. “Well…whatever it was you still looked
like you were dying on me.”  

     Devan
might have stared at her for an indeterminate amount of time if Brett hadn’t coughed
indelicately next to him. He turned to see Brett looking at him in nervous
astonishment; eyes conveying his concern at what Laney might know and what else
might be revealed.

     “When
you called me from the school you omitted the severity of you wounds.” Brett’s commented
as he finished wrapping Devan’s arm. 

     Devan
looked back at Brett. “The severity of the wounds was irrelevant at the time as
you could do nothing about it. You only needed the generalities.” When Brett
leaned back Devan sat up and tested his arm, grudgingly disengaging his and
Laney’s hands…the loss of her touch was like disconnecting a vital part of
himself.

     The
injection Brett had given him earlier had held only a minor dose of pain
inhibitor so there was still some soreness, and the typical swelling from any
injury plus the stitches in his arm caused a sensation of tightness. In all, it
was uncomfortable, but manageable.

     Brett
stood and began to gather up bloody rags and used needles with a pensive look
on his face. “Do we have anything to worry about?”

      Brett’s
concerns centered on whether anyone could have seen Devan do anything out of
the ordinary. Well…it was rather obvious that someone had seen something
anomalous.

     “I’m
pretty sure that no one saw Devan. When I was questioned his name never came up
and if someone had seen anything they would have said. They think I was alone
in that building and that I killed the wolf.”

     Devan
and Brett turned to Laney as she answered the question that troubled both their
minds. Her expression was grave and confident, validating her words.

     She
looked Devan in the eye. “They won’t hear anything different from me.”

    
Devan’s heart tripped at her words. She was telling them she would keep their
secret. Why would she do that?

     “Why
would you do that?” Brett voiced his question out loud with a frown.

     Laney
looked over at Brett. “I don’t know why you need to keep away from the police,
but Devan saved my life, at least two and a half times, so I have no problem
doing this for you. Especially since it’s not even hurting anyone. It’s not
hurting anyone, right?” She asked, looking back and forth between the two of
them.

     “No.”
Devan and Brett answered simultaneously.

    
Laney’s expression displayed a measure of relief at their response. Devan felt
another flicker of shock that she was putting so much faith in their
truthfulness. How could she be convinced that they were telling the truth?
Laney didn’t come across as gullible, but her absolute trust was disturbing a
little bit.

     Laney
gaze was intense. “I don’t know why I trust that you’re telling the truth, I
just do. In fact, I don’t have an iota of doubt.”

     Was
she reading his mind?

     A
small smile touched her lips. “If that makes me seem naive then so be it.”

     What
the heck?

    
“Without those sunglasses hiding half your face it has become a whole lot
easier to read you.” Laney said with one eyebrow raised.

    
Devan’s brows slanted down in a frown. He wasn’t easy to read. It had been
imparted to him many times that his face was very difficult to read. ‘A stone
mask’ was a phase used often, in fact.

     From
behind him Brett emitted a choked cough.   

     “It’s
gone suddenly, and awkwardly silent. I’m starting to miss your single syllable
responses.” Laney mumbled. She stood up wearing a self-conscious grin and her
posture radiated ill-at-ease. The situation was finally getting to her.

    
“Devan?”

     Devan
heard the question in Brett’s tone. He was troubled, and the list was long on
what he was troubled about no doubt.

     “Brett,
can you give us some time alone?”

     Devan
asked the question of Brett with an inadequate comprehension of what he was
going to do with the time alone with Laney. She muddled up his thoughts
processes completely, and that was just not like him. He hated the disorder she
brought to his mind…but at the same time he liked many of the other sensations she
wrought in him. It was endlessly perplexing.

      “I’m
going to go make you something to eat, you need it after that blood loss…and
I’ll make something for your…friend also.”

     Laney
stepped forward with a smile. “I’m Laney Jennings.”

     Brett
took her hand hesitatingly and the smile he returned was strained. “Brett
Ferris.” Releasing her hand Brett gave Devan another pointed look before he
left the room.

     Devan
gazed awkwardly at Laney have no idea what to say. Actually, he
was
curious about something.

     “Why
did you remain at the school?” Devan had thought he had been hallucinating when
he’d heard Laney calling him out of his meditation on top of the school
building. Looking over that roof top to see her indeed standing there had caught
him a little off guard.

     She
shrugged. “I thought you might find somewhere to hide as you waited for
everyone to leave, so I stayed. It was a little difficult because no one wanted
to leave me alone; especially my dad, but he went into the woods with a few
others to look for the wolves.”

     “You
wanted an explanation, no doubt?” She had to be extremely curious as to why he
had to get away, why he couldn’t be on the news, and why he couldn’t go to the
doctors.

     “Well
sure, I would like to know what’s going on, but that isn’t why I stuck
around.”  She looked up, her green eyes intense with emotion. “I knew you were
seriously injured and I wanted to make sure you were going to be alright. I was
worried.” She sounded piqued that he had made her worry. “And then I saw you
and thought…great, you’re alive at least, but then I got a look at your arm,
and
that you had lost a lot of blood,
and
it looked like you were about to
pass out. There was no way you could have drove yourself home.” She stated forcefully,
sounding in no way sorry for butting in on his bleeding to death moment.  

     Devan
really didn’t know how to reply to all that. “What does ‘coly how’ mean?” He
asked instead.

     She
looked up at him in surprise.  

     “You
said it when I climbed down.” He informed her.

     Laney
looked confused, like she didn’t remember saying the words. “‘Coly how’ is
actually ‘holy cow’ with the first letters switched around. My mom used to say
there wasn’t anything holy about a cow, or for that matter a cannoli or crap.
We discussed different options and came up with ‘coly how’.” A small smile
curved her lips and Devan wondered what her thoughts were.     

    Holy
cannoli, holy crap? He remembered her religion and the significance of false
idols. How anyone could worship a cannoli or crap was beyond even him though. “This
has something to do with the golden calf parable of your religion?”

     She
frowned. “What?” 

    
“Aaron made a golden calf to worship and when Moses came down the mountain he
was given a stern reprimand for it.”

     Laney’s
confusion cleared and she laughed. “Reprimand, I like that. Yes, that’s why I
don’t say ‘holy cow’, because there’s nothing holy about a cow.” She shook her
head and grinned at him. “We are just all over the world today with our
conversation.”

     Devan
heard Brett coming back down the hallway the smell of food preceding him, and Devan’s
stomach growled loudly in response. This caused Laney to laugh again. Her laugh
set off a different rumbling in his chest.

     Brett
walked in the room with two plates of food; one a heaping plate of peanut
butter sandwiches and the other a plate of boiled eggs. He had three orange
juice bottles under his arms. He gave them both a flummoxed look at the open
amusement. Setting everything down on the dresser he turned to walk back out
the door, backwards, giving them lingering looks of anxious incomprehension.

     Laney
watched him leave in amusement. She turned and gave Devan an impish grin. “Is
he listening around the corner?”

     Devan
shook his head in negation. Brett’s footsteps had headed down the hall toward
the…kitchen. The rattling of utensils and opening of cupboards followed.

     Laney
gazed at him attentively. “What’s he doing?”

     Devan
considered her question for a second. There was really no reason to
prevaricate; she’d observed too many of his abilities. “He’s cleaning up the
kitchen.”

     She
seemed to process that for a few seconds with only mild astonishment, nodding
her head to some unobservable method of reasoning before answering. “Okay.”

     Devan
reached down to remove the needles from his arm.

     “Are
you sure you should be doing that, just thirty minutes ago you were passed
out.”  She took a step closer with a look of concern.

     “Not
passed out, meditating.” Devan reminded her. “I’m fine, really. Look, the blood
has all been transfused, I’m alert and coherent. It’s just my stomach that
needs some attention now.” She didn’t look convinced, but Devan wasn’t going to
placate her by keeping them in. He didn’t have a problem with needles per say. He’d
been poked constantly with them for ten years and even now his blood was drawn
on a monthly basis to be tested for anomalies and also for a fresh supply, but
the less he had to do with them the better. Extracting them Devan grabbed both
plates and set them in front of him on the bed. He had enough forethought to
offer her one of the sandwiches and a bottle of orange juice before stuffing
half a sandwich in his mouth.

    
Opening the bottle of juice she took a drink and then set it on the dresser.
She turned and scrutinized the room as she ate the sandwich. Devan had an idea
of the questions flying around in her head, but he still wasn’t sure what he
could, or should, say to answer any of them. Better to just get a more thorough
understanding of the situation they were dealing with.

     “What
did you end up telling everyone after I left?”

     She
continued eating and examining the room. “I told them that after the wolf
crashed through the window I used it as a punching bag using a couple of
football helmets for a while, and then when I got bored I staked it with a ski
pole.” 

     Devan
chewed his sandwich and contemplated her expression. She looked completely
serious, could it be possible that she had really told them that and they had
believed her? It seemed unlikely. Maybe she just wasn’t a good liar and had
recounted what she had seen him do and thought no one would question it.