Book One: The Girl (The Sanctum)

by Blaylock, Madhuri

  “I see I didn’t do a very good job in the healing department,” she whispered.

  He opened his eyes and searched hers, wondering why she would ever think such a thing.

  She gently pulled her hand out of his and touched a scar on his chest, following its trail to his waist, listening to his breath catch, never looking away from him.

  “Your perfect body is now covered in scars,” she added, as she traced another cutting across his washboard stomach, “your markings are destroyed.”

  Wyatt caught her hand in his and held her steady, preventing her from touching him again and creating further paths of fire along his body.

  “I never liked them much anyway.”

  “And now?” she quietly asked.

  “Now,” he responded in kind, never taking his eyes off her, “they are beautiful.”

  Dev had no idea the sound of someone’s voice, the words they spoke could have such a profound effect on her. Listening to Wyatt and the things he said roused her senses like nothing else could. She was acutely aware of everything about him, from the beating of his heart to the wrinkle between his eyes to the hairs standing on end up and down his arms. He was preventing her from touching him and she understood why, but she could not stop herself.

  Dev pulled free from Wyatt and touched his face, his eyes, his eyebrows, his cheeks, his lips. She wanted to imprint him on her memory, touch every inch of him, learn him. And she wanted him to do the same, to know her just as intimately, to learn every inch of her body and soul.

  “Dev,” he breathed her name, so filled with need and wanting.

  “Wyatt,” she replied, taking his hand and placing it on her face, so he could no longer fight the urge to touch her.

  His fingers slowly, lightly, traced her eyebrows, touched her closed eyes and her slightly parted lips. He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and then ran his fingers lightly down her neck, teasing her sensitive spots, knowing them instinctively. He touched her collarbone and hesitated, but Dev begged him not to stop and his hands continued exploring her body, learning every curve, every ridge. He slipped her shirt over her head and admired her in all her fierce beauty.

  “You are truly the most beautiful girl in the world,” he whispered.

  Dev lay back, naked and exposed, looking up at Wyatt with wonder. He loved her. She saw it in his eyes, in the way he touched her, how he spoke to her. He loved her. The realization sparked something within her, a piece of her she wanted to bury. That memory bank she shut away when her family was murdered.

  They had loved her as well. Undeniably.

  Dev’s eyes welled with tears and she cursed her weakness. She could not allow her sadness to consume her. She would not allow it. And yet, try as she might, the tears seemed determined to spill forth and ruin a beautiful moment.

  “Hey, hey,” Wyatt whispered as he wiped away her tears, “okay, you’re not that pretty.”

  She smiled as her lips trembled, desperately fighting the sadness that threatened to eat her alive. This was the breakdown she had been pushing away, avoiding, denying. This was the breakdown she could not afford because she wasn’t sure she could survive it. This was the breakdown that would chew her up and spit her back out. And it would be denied no longer.

  Wyatt watched Dev transform back into the sad, scared girl he met in the woods. Her body was healed but her soul was not. She closed her eyes but her tears continued to fall. He could tell she was fighting the pain, wanting to deny it, not allow it a voice. Her body trembled with her efforts but she was losing the battle.

  He cupped her face and she opened her eyes, her tears spilling faster, her lips still trembling, but she wouldn’t give in.

  “It’s okay,” Wyatt reassured Dev.

  She shook her head in disagreement, wanting to speak, knowing she could not.

  “I promise you, it’s okay. Nothing bad will happen. I won’t allow it,” Wyatt stated firmly.

  “You…don’t…know,” Dev struggled to get the words out, tears streaming down her face.

  “You’re right,” Wyatt agreed, “I don’t. I don’t know what happened to you before we met but I do know this: nothing will hurt you again. I will lay down my life before I let that happen. That much I know. So don’t be scared to be sad because I promise you will never feel like this again. I will make certain of that.”

  “I don’t need you to do that,” Dev cried irately, “I can take care of myself.”

  Wyatt smiled down at her.

  “I never said you did. I said I want to.”

  Then he gently kissed away her tears and the floodgates opened.

  Dev cried for her brother and the fact that he would never get to be her age, travel the world or fall in love. She cried for her mother and the fact that she would never heal another sick soul, watch her children grow up or become a grandmother. And she cried for her father and the fact that he would never play another game of dominos, tell a bad joke or wrap his kids in his big, bear hug. She cried for her loss and prayed that her family had moved on to a more loving and peaceful world, one where they were safe and happy.

  Wyatt wrapped her in his arms and held her as she cried, her body wracked with anguish and loss. Her tears seemed endless; he could not fathom such pain and despaired for her. She eventually quieted, but wanted to remain wrapped in his embrace so he held her until they both fell asleep, wrapped around one another, affectionately tangled together.

  The afternoon sun woke Wyatt, its fingers of warmth sneaking through his curtains and creeping into his room. He turned his face away from the light and looked down at Dev, asleep on his chest. Her face was a composite of angles and dips, shadows and light coming together in an explosion of beauty. He could get lost in her and if someone told him she would be his final vision, he truly believed he would die a happy man.

  Sensing a shift in Wyatt's energy, Dev stirred. Without opening her eyes, she reached up and touched his face, lightly raking her fingers across his stubble and running her hand through his hair. He caught her hand and softly kissed each of her fingers, the inside of her wrist and then worked his way up her arm, painstakingly slow. Dev lost herself to his touch, his lips along her neck, his hands on her body. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer, feeling him smile against her lips and then catch his breath as her hands explored his body.

  “Are you ever going to kiss me?” she whispered into his ear.

  Wyatt pulled back and looked down at Dev with a mischievous smile on his face, running a finger along her lips, down her neck, tickling her stomach and caressing her inner thigh.

  “Do you want me to kiss you?” he asked, his lips inches from hers, his hands playing along her leg.

  “Yes,” she replied, then kissed him herself, hard and deep and full of urgency. She rolled on top of him and forced Wyatt’s hands to the bed, locking them down with her own so he could not touch her as he pleased. She then pressed her body along the length of his and listened to him whisper her name, full of desire. Releasing him, she fumbled with the drawstring at his waist, tugging at it in frustration. Wyatt laughed and finished what she could not, easily untying his shorts and standing up to let them fall to the floor.

  “You,” Dev smiled as she studied Wyatt admiringly, “are truly the most beautiful guy in the world.”

  Wyatt fell onto the bed next to Dev and allowed his eyes to wander slowly, up and down her body, memorizing every inch of it. He could not believe she was here, with him, open, vulnerable, beautiful.

  “You should take a picture, it lasts longer,” she teased.

  He grabbed Dev, tickling her viciously until she didn’t think she could take another second. Wyatt nuzzled her neck and ran his hands along her body, untying her knot of hair and letting it fall loose. Grabbing a fistful of her curls, he kissed her hard and deep, his tongue searching her, tasting her. Dev arched her body towards his, needing him, feeding off the heat from his skin where they touched, wanting to belong to him completely.

&nb
sp; A light knock on the door brought everything to a screeching halt.

  "Wyatt?"

  Dev and Wyatt froze at the sound of the voice on the other side of the door, suddenly reminded they were not the only two people on the planet. Catching glimpses of one another and their expressions of shock made them forget all the tension of a few seconds earlier and fall victim to a serious fit of laughter.

  "Look at your face," Dev teased.

  Wyatt buried his head in her neck to muffle his laughs, his whole body shaking with mirth.

  "Look at your own," he shot back when he could finally speak.

  "Wyatt?"

  "Hold on, dad," Wyatt called as he climbed over Dev to get out of bed and pull on some clothes.

  Dev froze again, this time a look of concern shadowing her face upon learning Wyatt's dad was on the other side of the door.

  "Wyatt," she whispered as she sat up in bed, cross-legged, and knotted her hair on top of her head.

  Wyatt looked up and had to catch his breath. She was so perfectly stunning it was difficult for him to focus, thoughts of jumping back into bed with her clouding his mind. Dev pulled her shirt on and looked up at him, her eyes huge and questioning.

  "It's all right," Wyatt reassured her, "it's just my dad."

  Dev grabbed his hand as he turned for the door, pulling him back to her.

  "You're kidding, right?" she asked, amazed at Wyatt's nonchalance.

  Wyatt pushed a stray curl behind Dev's ear as he took her face in his hands.

  "I promise you that he's the last person you need to worry about. If it makes you feel any better, he's been scouting portals throughout the city, hoping to find you."

  Dev shot him a look, suggesting he wasn't making her feel any better.

  "And he hates Breslin."

  She knew plenty of people who hated Breslin. That didn’t mean they would help her. She also knew she loved the feel of Wyatt’s hands all over her body. That didn’t mean she was quite ready to believe every word that came out of his mouth.

  But sensing she had very little wiggle room and that perhaps it was time to take a leap of faith, Dev told herself to calm down and trust Wyatt. She told herself that he loved her and would not lead her into a trap. She told herself to breathe deeply and ignore Wyatt’s ties to The Sanctum.

  Taking his hands in her own, Dev kissed them, then stood up next to him and smiled, more to reassure herself than anything else.

  "I suppose if I'm going to meet your dad," she grinned nervously as she pulled on her pants, "it would be nice to put on some clothes."

  Wyatt watched her pull up her pants and button them, admiring the way they hugged her slight hips.

  "Stop it, Wyatt," Dev caught him staring at her.

  "Sorry," he smiled as he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and nuzzling her neck. “I can’t help it.”

  Dev closed her eyes and ran her fingers through his hair, losing herself again to his touch.

  "Wyatt Clayworth, I swear," she chuckled, "you are nothing but trouble. I'm going to establish a moratorium on you touching me."

  "You wouldn't," he laughed as he walked down the long hallway, headed towards his front door.

  From the corner of her eye, Dev spied her knives sitting on Wyatt's desk and strapped them around her hips. Just in case.

  She had no idea what she was getting herself into; the blades at her hip allowed her to breathe a little easier. She was willing to go out on a limb for Wyatt but she knew nothing about his parents except for the fact that they were Founding Family, members of the Circle of Ten and ran an Academy.

  In other words, some of the most powerful Sanctum in existence.

  She shuddered at the thought, cringing inwardly, wondering what her parents would think if they could see her now, hiding in a Sanctum Academy, hopelessly bound to a Sanctum warrior.

  And then Dev did it.

  She didn’t want to. She desperately fought the urge. But finally, her fear won the battle and she leapt.

  Out the window. Gone in a flash.

  "Dad, I'd like you to meet...”

  Wyatt's voice trailed off as he spied his empty room, every trace of Dev gone, as if she was never there at all. His open window the only hint as to her disappearance. There was a symmetry to it all, a certain elegance to her coming and going. Wyatt could not hold her departure against her and simply hoped she would return, sensing she probably would not.

  Dev lingered outside his window, yearning to go to him, comfort him somehow. Listening to the silence as Wyatt absorbed the fact that she was gone, again, pained her but it could not be avoided. She spied on him for a moment longer and then escaped into the night, a hoodie she stole from him covering her head as she camouflaged herself and disappeared.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  After spending the day hiking Twin Mountain with Jools, Ryker was roaming the halls with his head stuck in a book, headed back to his room for the night, when he stopped, dead in his tracks, thoroughly annoyed. The longblade strapped to his back had slapped him all day; each step he took resulted in a slap on the back. Why the harness only worked properly when he carried both blades was beyond him, but he needed it fixed. Now.

  “Coco!” Ryker called as he ducked his head and walked down the dark stairs towards the lab, “Coooooo-coooooo!”

  “Didn’t I tell you not to come down here anymore?” the troll stepped out from a doorway behind Ryker, startling him purposely.

  Ryker seemed momentarily abashed but quickly recovered.

  "Come on," Ryker flirted, "don't be like that."

  "Does Jools like it when you talk to me like that?" Coco asked flatly.

  "Okay," Ryker immediately changed his tone, "let's start over."

  "No, let's not," Coco stated as she walked past him towards her lab.

  Ryker watched her walk away, wondering what to do. He could hear Wyatt's voice in his head, warning him not to mess with the girl in charge of weapons development and design. Ryker didn't listen though, unable to resist Coco's bright purple skin and big, green eyes. She was taller than him but slight, wispy almost. Her green hair curled down her back and came to a rest on her most perfect behind.

  "I'll tell you the problem," Wyatt had said to him all those years ago when his parents instilled Coco at The Academy, much to the chagrin of some of the other founding families, "her butt is the problem. Her butt is going to get you in major trouble," Wyatt had laughed.

  In all honesty, that hadn't been it at all. Wyatt was the butt man, always had been. It was Coco's extreme intelligence that caught Ryker's attention. She was no joke: there was not a finer weapons-designer anywhere. Sanctum from around the world sought her expertise and craftsmanship, willing to travel thousands of miles for one of her blades.

  When the Clayworths decided to bring Coco onboard as their head weapons engineer, they had faced Sanctum-wide outrage. For one, Coco was a Magical and two, she was a troll. Sanctum bylaws explicitly stated no Magicals could enter an Academy, much less seek refuge or employ. Sam and Josiah not only invited Coco within the sacred walls of the New York Academy, they also provided her with a luxurious apartment in the South Wing, right next door to her state-of-the-art laboratory and design center.

  Possibly even worse than her being a Magical was the fact that Coco was a troll. Carter Breslin despised trolls. He considered them the lowliest of life forms, worse than demons and hellions. He refused Sanctum assistance in troll matters, finding their needs, wants and desires to be inconsequential and killed them often, with wanton abandon. Since becoming head of The Sanctum, Breslin had yet to seek justice for a troll murder; rumor had it he allowed his son to hunt trolls for sport.

  Over the years, Coco's importance to The Sanctum had grown and many who initially balked at her hiring had become her most ardent supporters, much to the chagrin of Breslin. Coco and her blades were just one more reminder to Carter Breslin that he did not have control of the Clayworths.

  It w
as common knowledge the Breslin and Clayworth families never liked one another, but the discord had grown dramatically in recent years. Micah and Rose Clayworth were chosen by the gods millennia ago as a check to Augustus and Victoria Breslin’s egos. After Micah and Rose convinced five other founding families to support them in putting down a Breslin-sponsored witch hunt through the deserts of Persia, the four founding members of The Sanctum never trusted one another again; over the years that mistrust evolved into full-blown dislike. Current Sanctum state of affairs only played into the sharp divide: Breslin’s chief goal, which in turn became the chief goal of The Sanctum, was to capture and kill Dev; Sam and Josiah voiced their disagreement with that course of action at the European meetings. Breslin threatened the Clayworths, Sam and Josiah laughed in his face and everyone went home, accomplishing nothing.

  And so it continued.

  “Don’t take one step further into this lab, Ryker Morrison,” Coco warned without looking up from her metalwork.

  Ryker stopped in his tracks.

  “Come on, Coco,” Ryker begged, “you’re not serious, are you?”

  Coco pushed her goggles on top of her head, shut down the flame she was working with and stared at Ryker. God, the boy was stunning, she thought to herself. Stunning and annoying.

  “What do you want?” she relented.

  Ryker smiled and started walking towards her.

  “Uh-uh,” Coco held up a warning hand, “I did not say ‘come in.’ I said what do you want. You can answer from right where you’re standing.”

  “I’m not going to bite,” Ryker laughed.

  Coco rolled her eyes, not one bit amused, recalling some very Morrison-like teeth marks on her hips.

  “Shut up, Ryker.”

  Ignoring all her warnings and the arsenal available at her fingertips, Ryker entered the lab and sat at the table, directly across from Coco.