“Don’t get me wrong, she hates you, sweetheart. But she is yours. I have no idea what that’s gonna do to you, but she belongs to you and only you.”
“Lucky me,” Wyatt replied sardonically as he dropped to the nearest couch in exhaustion. Darby came and lay down next to him, listening to his heart beat, curling into him as he wrapped his arms around her. Wyatt closed his eyes and played with Darby’s hair, too tired to speak, but needing to before he lost himself to sleep.
“Darb,” Wyatt forced the words out through his exhaustion-riddled brain, “promise me you won’t tell Ryker about any of this.”
She had often wondered what, if anything, would separate the boys, an assignment, a kill, an order. She never thought it would be a girl. Not that the being sitting upstairs was a girl in the typical sense of the word, but in Darby’s world, Dev wasn’t so unique. In fact, Darby could not quite get her head around what was so threatening about Dev that she needed to be exterminated. Sure, she was otherworldly strong, but so were vampires and werewolves. She was intensely beautiful, as were fairies and angels. And she was full of magic, magic on a level Darby had rarely encountered, but many beings shared this power. Something just wasn’t adding up, a piece of vital information was not being shared.
And now Wyatt didn’t want Darby telling anyone about Dev, but most of all Ryker. She looked up at Wyatt, his eyes closed, his body relaxed, everything about him seemed so peaceful. Even his features softened when he slept, making him seem almost vulnerable. He was perfect and she loved him, but that was not always enough. Darby knew that all too well. She was centuries-old for goodness sake! At some point, it was time to stop loving the unattainable.
She sat up and gave herself a few more minutes to admire him, caressing Wyatt’s cheek and softly kissing his lips, suspecting this would be one of the last moments she would ever have with him like this. It would never again be so intimate between them, but then again, it probably never should have been in the first place.
Darby padded softly out of the room and the house, locking the door behind her, eager for a distraction. The morning light blinded her momentarily and she regretted not grabbing her sunglasses. But it also warmed her deathly cold skin and for that she was thankful. Even all these years later, she still felt a thrill every time the sun kissed her skin. And although it had been decades since she crossed paths with the witch who took pity on her and changed her life forever, she never quite got over the newness of it all.
Darby met Maya years ago as she was ripping through India, killing scores of men and women without mercy. Maya called herself a healer; Darby considered her a witch. Both were one with nature but Darby knew Maya was capable of more than just healing damaged souls and bodies. She could give life and when pushed, take it away as well.
The latter is what Darby expected her to do when Maya came upon her, feeding on her innocent victim in a Bombay slum. Darby had tortured the man, both mentally and physically, and was finishing her kill when Maya appeared.
“Must you be so gruesome, child?”
Darby looked up, anger at being interrupted roaring through her veins, blood dripping from her fangs. She tossed the dead body aside and flew at the woman standing before her, all done up in red and gold, obviously an emissary of The Sanctum. Maya prepared for the attack, bending Darby to her will, stopping the vampire dead in her tracks.
Darby knew better than to fight the magic paralyzing her. Instead, she gave into it, hoping it would overcome her and put an end to her madness.
Maya approached Darby, cautious but also concerned. How was it that something so tiny and fragile-seeming could indulge in such vulgar displays of power and brutality? Why would a child of darkness, so full of wisdom and beauty, engage in such disgusting behavior?
“Do you know what I am, witch?” Darby hissed, displaying her fangs.
“Yes, child,” said Maya, completely unmoved by Darby’s display. “The better question is do you know what I am?”
Darby felt Maya’s magic flooding her body, flowing through her veins and overtaking her mind. She hoped this was the end. If the last face she looked upon was Maya’s, full of peace and kindness, she would know she had died a death she did not deserve.
She crumpled to the ground, unable to keep herself upright any longer. Darby looked to the midnight sky, full of stars, wondering if she would see Claude on the other side. And then her world faded to black. When she woke, Darby was lying in a field of tall, gently blowing grass, kissed by the soft tendrils lapping at her face, warmed by the sun on her cold skin. Realizing she was lying in the sun, Darby fled to a copse of nearby trees, staring at her bare arms in amazement, touching her face in wonder.
Maya chuckled quietly, watching Darby from nearby.
Darby turned her head in the direction of the laughter, eyeing the woman suspiciously.
“What have you done to me, witch?”
Maya slowly approached Darby, keeping her magic in check, wanting the vampire to understand she meant no harm.
“Child, you continue to spit that word at me like it is a bad thing. I call myself a healer, you call me a witch, someone else will call me a sorcerer. These are all one in the same. The names mean nothing. The titles are irrelevant. What matters is that I am one with nature, my power is the life force of all beings, flowing through me, using me as a vessel. It is as simple as that.”
Maya stopped in front of Darby, towering over the slight vampire, and gently touched her long, blonde curls, letting them wrap around her fingers and tickle her arms.
“One day, I would love to have a child like you. Powerful, beautiful, smart. Aware of herself, in touch with her deadliest nature and in control of her surroundings. That is you, little vampire. And now I’ve just made you a bit more special than you already are.”
“Why?”
Maya slowly shook her head.
“That is not the correct question, child. What you should really ask yourself is what do I do with myself now? How do I go forth from this chance meeting?”
Darby studied Maya, not quite knowing what to make of the powerful being standing before her.
“I thought you were Sanctum.”
“And you are correct. I wear the red and gold of the Emissary of The Sanctum.”
“So why aren’t you killing me?” Darby asked, demanding a direct answer.
“Child, I do not kill anyone. I am the Sole Healer for The Sanctum. My job is to help lost souls, cure the ailing, assist those in need.”
Darby shook her head in disagreement.
“All due respect but I have been alive a very, very long time. Maybe not as long as you, which I can only assume is why you insist on calling me a child, but let me tell you something, Miss. I know magic when I see it and I ain’t never seen any kind of magic like the kind you’ve got flowing through that body of yours. So don’t you stand here in front of me, all tall and pretty and majestic and tell me you ain’t killing folks. Damn straight I know you can kill someone.”
Maya smiled, amused by and attracted to Darby’s spark.
“I never said I cannot kill, I said I do not kill. Two very distinct realities.”
Darby chuckled.
“And now you help vampires walk in the sun?” Darby asked, “You, Miss Maya, are the strangest member of The Sanctum I have ever met.”
“I see you have a few tricks up your sleeve, as well.”
“If by that you mean I know who you are, then yes, I have a few tricks as well.”
Darby slowly walked into the sun, all the while watching Maya, half expecting her to blink her eyes or wave her hands and send Darby up in flames.
“Everyone knows who you are, Miss Maya. I believe the phrase is “right hand to Ava Breslin”.”
Darby came to a stop next to Maya, noticing the woman flinch when Darby described her.
“Ah, yes,” Maya sighed, “Ava Breslin. I suppose we all have our cross to bear.”
“You will have much more than that to bear when word
gets back about what you’ve done,” Darby stated the obvious as she stretched her arms in the golden-hued heat, luxuriating in the warmth on her skin, thrilled at being kissed by the sun again after so many decades of darkness.
"Well, I can only hope this encounter remains our little secret," Maya suggested as she smiled down at Darby.
"My lips are sealed," Darby promised.
Maya stared down at Darby, the witch's face a pool of longing and sadness. She gently caressed Darby's beautiful face, a tear escaping her eye and slowly rolling down her cheek. Darby felt Maya's pain, her fear, her longing. The vampire sensed the witch was at a crossroads and whatever her decision, it was going to be final and profound. Darby reached up and returned Maya’s caress and then turned on her heel and walked away.
"So long, then, my pretty vampire,” Maya called to Darby, “and welcome, my lovely child of the sun and moon, for you are now reborn, wholly unique and absolutely wonderful."
Darby turned back to smile at Maya and then continued on her way, enjoying the warmth of the earth under her bare feet, trailing her fingers along the high grass, relishing the sun on her arms. When she reached the edge of the field, Darby turned back one final time to see Maya, standing stock still near the trees, watching her leave. Darby lifted her tiny hand and gave a short wave, knowing she could never thank the witch for the gift bestowed upon her, hoping she could one day live up to it. And then, without another thought Darby fled, appearing as a mere blur on the horizon.
That was almost forty years ago. For humans, a lifetime but for the immortal, a mere blink. Darby had always hoped she would one day have the chance to repay Maya for her kindness and last night, when she caught Dev’s scent, Darby believed their paths had come full circle. Only one other time in her life had she smelled another being quite so intoxicating and truth be told, Darby never expected to do so again. But there was Dev, lying on her couch, evoking memories of years gone by of a witch full of power and majesty, a most unique being.
Darby smiled as she walked down Avenue C, forgetting Wyatt and Ryker, the murderous Hybrid and anything else troubling her, solely focused on memories of Maya and wondering when they would again meet.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The evening sun stretched across the floor of the living room, giving everything a golden hue, including Wyatt. He slowly opened his eyes, not quite ready to wake, but knowing he should. For one, he needed to check on Dev and another, he could not hide from Ryker and Jools forever. The best thing to do would be to find them before they found him and give them a perfectly worded excuse for his getaway. Or, even better, an explanation.
Wyatt rolled over and sat up, ready to face the music.
“Well, looka here, Sleeping Beauty has arisen. Or should we call him the Great Leaper, able to escape any window in a single bound?” Ryker asked as he sat in a chair across from Wyatt, his legs crossed and a drink in his hand, the picture of relaxation, despite the fact that he sounded extremely annoyed.
“I think ‘liar’ works just fine. Pretty much sums it up,” Jools chimed in from the other side of the room as she poured herself a drink at the bar.
She waltzed back towards the boys, gently raking her fingernails across Wyatt’s head as she passed him, smiling all the while. Jools took a seat next to Ryker, sipped her drink, stretched her never-ending legs over the arm of her chair and waited. Ryker settled in and did the same.
Wyatt ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed the day-old stubble growing on his face. Taking stock of the situation, he chastised himself for being so stupid and shortsighted. He acted out of desperation rather than thinking through his moves and developing a air-tight plan. Any other day, Darby’s would be the last place he would come, knowing Ryker would seek her out for information. And why not? If the tables were turned, Wyatt would do the same simply because Darby always knew everything about everything when it came to the boys. She made it her mission to watch over them, whether they needed her protection or not.
And had he been delirious this morning when he asked Darby not to tell Ryker about Dev? It was the only explanation for such a ridiculous request. Wyatt knew Darby would never keep a secret from Ryker, same as she would never keep one from him. How could he even have the nerve to ask such a thing of her? It was like asking her to pick her favorite, Ryker or Wyatt. Darby probably hated him for it.
“Where’s Darby?” Wyatt wondered aloud.
“Around,” Ryker replied ambiguously, “probably somewhere upstairs, checking on things.”
Wyatt raised his eyes, catching Ryker’s emphasis.
“Ahhh, that got your attention, Clayworth? Something of yours upstairs?” Ryker asked, not mentioning Dev directly, suggesting Jools didn’t know of her existence.
“Nothing of mine is anywhere in this house,” Wyatt insisted.
“Interesting,” Ryker rubbed his chin, thoughtfully contemplating Wyatt’s words, “because that’s not what I heard.”
“Boys, boys, come on already,” Jools swirled her drink in irritation, not wanting to listen to their cryptic banter a minute longer, “I adore both of you but this lover’s spat is annoying. As Darby would say, kiss and make up already so I can see what’s on the fourth floor.”
“Dammit Ryker,” Wyatt stood up and shook his head at his best friend, “is there anything you don’t tell her?”
Both Ryker and Jools laughed at Wyatt’s accusation.
“Ryker tells me nothing, big brother. Your secrets are safe. He would never dream of divulging any of your confidences. However,” Jools smiled wickedly at Wyatt, leaning back and tossing her long, dark hair over the arm of her chair, letting it cascade to the floor, “that little vamp of yours who you hold so dear, she’s another story. Some sweet words in her ear, warm breath on her neck, a little touch in the right spot and she sang like a bird, telling me everything I wanted to know.”
Wyatt listened to his sister talk dirty, knowing Darby would never tell Jools a word about anything having to do with him, no matter what his sister offered the vampire.
“Honestly, Jools,” Wyatt leaned back and stretched his arms above his head, “you really should just sleep with her and get it over with.”
“That little fantasy of Jools’ did not, by any means, happen,” Ryker shot Jools a very deliberate look as he defended Darby’s honor, “no matter how much Jools wished it did.”
“So how did you find me?” Wyatt asked, less interested in Jools’ fantasies than he was in Darby’s whereabouts.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, it was Darby,” Ryker explained, as he casually sipped his drink, “just not the way Jools described it.”
Wyatt studied Ryker for a second before asking his next question, not sure he wanted to know the answer.
“All right then, how would you describe it?”
Ryker glared at Wyatt, wondering what was wrong with his best friend, wanting to shake whatever it was out of him.
“I don’t like your tone, Wyatt,” Ryker warned.
“I simply asked a question, Ryker.”
“You asked a very loaded question,” Ryker corrected Wyatt, sounding more angry than he had ever been with his friend, “and a completely undeserved one at that. You of all people know I would never dream of making Darby do anything she didn’t want to. There is no way I would force her to tell me where to find you. There is no way I would ever want to do something like that. The mere fact that you even hinted at that is wrong and frankly, beneath you. You know me better than that."
Wyatt remained quiet, unable to make eye contact with his best friend. As long as they had known each other, Wyatt had never made Ryker so angry. Sure, they bickered and irritated each other and even fought at times, but neither one ever became really angry with the other. Neither boy would ever hurt the other. Until today. Now, in a matter of moments, Wyatt had done both and was at a loss for how to repair the damage.
“I’m sorry.”
Ryker contemplated his friend and that simple phrase, having never
heard it come out of Wyatt’s mouth with such sincerity. Even stranger was the fact it was directed at him. In the real world, Ryker was usually doing the apologizing, but somewhere over the last twenty-four hours, Ryker’s reality had shifted and here he was, annoyed with Wyatt, but unsure whether he had it in him to remain angry. To do so went against everything their friendship was based upon: understanding, trust, loyalty and love. Remaining angry with Wyatt was akin to cutting off his right arm and Ryker wanted to do neither.
“You better be sorry,” Ryker stated flatly.
“You’re not angry?”
“Of course I am,” Ryker chuckled, “you’re an ass. But if I don’t love you, who will?”
A slow, tired smile spread across Wyatt’s face as he leaned back into the couch, closed his eyes and relaxed for the first time in hours. He realized all the stress and anxiety he was feeling had nothing to do with his discovery of Dev and everything to do with his deceitful behavior towards Ryker. As much as he had tried to convince himself that he needed to leave Ryker out of his plans with Dev, doing so just made everything feel intrinsically wrong and threw Wyatt off-balance. He smiled to himself, thinking this was one of those moments Jools would tell him he was acting like a girl and so be it. At least he felt like he was back on solid ground.
“Hey,” Jools climbed onto her brother’s lap, getting right in Wyatt’s face, so close that if she really wanted to be annoying, she could kiss him, “now that you and Ryker are boyfriend and boyfriend again, can I see what you’re hiding upstairs?”
Wyatt didn’t bother opening his eyes, knowing if he did, he would see nothing but Jools. That’s how close she was.
“I can smell your breath.”
“Yeah?” Jools asked, not moving back an inch, “What’s it smell like?”
“Ass.”
“You would know,” Jools snickered as she swung her legs off the couch and headed for the staircase, looking longingly upstairs.
“Don’t you even think about goin’ upstairs without your brother.”
Jools spun around to find herself face-to-face with Darby. A very healthy-looking Darby, suggesting she had recently fed. Jools silently shuddered at the fact, not wanting to think about someone walking around slightly lighter thanks to Darby’s dietary habits.
Book One: The Girl (The Sanctum) Page 8
