"Never," he replied as he nipped at her teasingly before walking away, the taste of her blood lingering in his mouth.
"Where are you going?" she called after him.
"Well, if you’re not going to allow me to kill any more Magicals, I’m off to catch a bloody Clayworth. I’m sure you won’t mind me killing the lot of them."
Ava smiled wickedly before running after him, not wanting to miss out on all the fun.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Wyatt opened the door, crossed the threshold and turned back to glance at Dev. If she had any doubts, they could not be seen on her face. She entered his parents’ suite, took in her immediate surroundings and smiled. Everywhere she looked, there were stacks and stacks of books, from old dictionaries and leather-bound collections of the classics to oversized almanacs and journals. It was a bibliophile’s dream; Dev wanted to curl up in a corner and never leave.
“This room is brilliant,” Dev continued taking in her surroundings, “all the books.”
Wyatt held his hand out for her.
“Wait until you see the rest of this place. You’ll never want to leave.”
Dev laced her fingers through his and allowed him to lead her down the hall as she marveled at the collection of paintings, rugs, tapestries and art from around the world and through the ages. The Clayworths didn’t limit their collection to the human arts as Dev noticed quite a number of pieces scattered throughout from Magicals. She silently wondered just who Wyatt’s people were, they seemed so unlike anything she would expect from The Sanctum.
“I know,” Wyatt stated as if reading her mind, “my family’s strangeness is not limited to my dad. My great-great-great-great grandmother, or something like that, considered herself a patron of Magical artists, hence all the bizarre work by faeries and wolves and my uncle is married to a troll.”
Dev raised a shocked eyebrow.
“And no longer Sanctum, of course,” Wyatt confirmed.
“Of course,” Dev agreed with an exaggerated nod.
Wyatt came to a stop near the end of the hallway. Dev could hear voices and knew they were nearing the kitchen. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, took a deep breath and kept walking. They entered the cavernous room and stood in the doorway, causing all sound and movement to come to a complete halt. Jools took in the sight of the two of them and wondered how they made it back to The Academy alive, they were covered in so much blood. Ryker wished he had gone with Wyatt to find Dev, knowing they could have used his help. But it was Sam and Josiah who appeared the most shaken, and not for reasons one would expect.
“Mom, dad, we’re totally fine,” Wyatt wanted to explain their appearances, “we just ran into a little trouble on the way back.”
Sam stood and slowly approached the couple. She knew the blood was not theirs and it definitely was not what captivated her attention.
It was Dev.
It was everything she evoked.
Sam was instantly thirty years younger, whispering, plotting, worrying. She could feel Maya’s hand in hers, she could see Philip’s sly smile. Without thinking about what she was doing, she reached out and caressed Dev's cheek, a look of pure awe written all over her face.
"My goodness," she gasped, looking back at Josiah, "they really did it."
Dev looked at her feet, slightly embarrassed by her effect on Sam, but used to it all the same.
"I know," she smiled, "the spitting-image of my mother with a touch of my father around the eyes."
Sam studied Dev for a moment longer and then shook her head in agreement.
"I couldn't say it better myself."
“You know her parents?” Wyatt asked, suddenly very confused.
“I do,” Sam said with a smile, “your dad and I both do. The Clayworths go back very far with Philip and Maya.”
“I’m sorry,” Sam turned to Dev and held out her hand, “I’m Sam Clayworth and this is my husband, and Wyatt’s dad, Josiah.”
“Um, he’s my dad, too,” Jools called from her seat at the kitchen table.
“Always,” Josiah kissed his daughter’s head affectionately as he rose from the table.
“Mr. Clayworth,” Dev smiled and held out her hand, “it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“Ahhhh, yes,” Josiah smiled, “I seem to recall you skipping out on our first meeting. And please, call me Josiah.”
Josiah smiled broadly at Dev, but hesitated to shake her hand.
“She won’t bite you, dad,” Wyatt stated, fully aware of his dad’s reticence.
“Maybe not, but she will read me like a book once she touches me,” Josiah explained.
“Actually, I can do that without touching you, sir,” Dev replied quietly.
“No,” Josiah insisted.
Dev shook her head.
“Yes.”
“You read minds?” Jools asked.
“You’re a mind-reader?” Ryker chimed in.
“Can you read my mind?” Sam asked.
“That is amazing,” Josiah commented.
Wyatt watched and listened as everyone crowded around Dev, wanting to know what she could do, how, when and why. After a few minutes of their incessant questions, the chaotic cacophony, he tuned them all out and sunk into himself. As bound to her as he felt, Dev remained a complete mystery, layers upon layers revealing themselves here and there, but never all at once. Perhaps there was a reason for that, her way of protecting him from the overwhelming reality of what was happening to them.
“Do you really read minds?” Wyatt’s voice cut through the noisy kitchen, bringing everything to a halt.
Dev knew exactly what Wyatt was asking her, she heard it in his voice. Her revelation didn’t amaze him, he didn’t want details about when or how she did it. He simply wanted to know if she was reading his mind.
“Not yours,” she replied.
“Because you choose not to?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Because I can’t.”
“Fascinating,” Josiah interjected himself into their conversation, “you can read all of us except Wyatt.”
Dev caught Wyatt’s eye across the room for a second before returning her attention to Josiah.
“I can read all of you. I can read anyone I come in contact with, folks I have no contact with, anyone I want, pretty much. Except Wyatt. He is the only person in my entire life that I haven’t been able to read. Everyone else, I can read and even influence their thoughts, but Wyatt, he’s just a blank page. No information, no nothing.”
“Interesting,” Josiah observed.
“Oh Jo, stop treating the girl like one of your experiments,” Sam admonished, “although I must admit, I’m rather intrigued by the fact you and Wyatt have a block.”
“I think it’s probably for the better,” Ryker chimed in from his seat at the kitchen table, winking at his friend.
“Shut up, Ryker,” Jools pushed him, knowing exactly what he was suggesting.
“He’s probably right,” Sam commented to Josiah, somewhat absentmindedly, ignoring everyone else in the room, “it will be easier for them to fight, side-by-side, with a block. It makes perfect sense.”
“It does, but I wonder if there are any drawbacks. It’s too bad she can’t turn it on and off.”
“Dad,” Wyatt interrupted Josiah and Sam’s stream-of-consciousness conversation, having witnessed these many times in the past, knowing it could go on and on for a while, “let’s focus.”
“Right, right,” Josiah looked for a moment as if he just realized Wyatt was in the room, “sorry about that. This is just quite a lot and I’m trying to keep up and digest it all.”
“I couldn’t agree more so how about we go back to you and mom knowing Dev’s parents,” Wyatt suggested, taking control of the conversation and guiding it towards information he wanted to glean.
“That’s an excellent place to start,” Josiah replied, “but first, how about you show Dev to her room and the two of you get cleaned up,
then we can talk?”
Wyatt started to disagree with his dad, not wanting to leave just yet, feeling there was so much more to learn from his parents but then he looked down at his hands, his bloody, filthy hands and suddenly felt exhausted. Too much had happened in one night, from Dev to killing his fellow Sanctum. He knew he needed to hit the pause button, clean up and recharge.
“I would love to wash my hands,” Dev snuck up behind him quietly.
“Personally, I would love for both of you to wash your hands,” Jools offered, “and your faces and bodies and clothes. You both look disgusting and you smell like all hell.”
“Jesus Jools,” Sam lightly popped her daughter on the top of her head with a laugh, “control yourself.”
Wyatt looked down at Dev and could see the exhaustion in her face. He relented immediately. Lacing his fingers through hers, he readied to leave.
Sam and Josiah walked them to the front door with Ryker and Jools trailing behind.
“Dev, we set up the suite for you next door to Wyatt, but if you need anything, please let us know.”
“Mom, you cannot be serious,” Jools began, “you put them next door to each other? More importantly, you gave her the suite I’ve only asked for a million times.”
“Ignore her,” Josiah smiled, slightly embarrassed by Jools’ outburst, “I don’t know where we bought her.”
Dev smiled, knowing she would ignore pretty much anything that came out of Jools’ mouth.
“Okay, so you all get some sleep and then you can come back for a nice breakfast. I’ll make pancakes and Dev can catch us up on everything with Maya and Philip.”
Dev’s stomach sank upon hearing her parents’ names, especially when spoken with such warmth and affection. Her eyes felt a little glassy, but she told herself not to cry. She would not cry. Wyatt tightened his hold on her hand, knowing the mention of her parents unsettled her.
“Dev?” Josiah sensed something was the matter, but left his question lingering in the air, not sure he wanted the answer.
“We’re going to head out, dad,” Wyatt spoke for the two of them, “we’re exhausted.”
“Of course,” Sam patted him on the back as he turned to leave, smiling sadly.
Wyatt opened the door, but stopped when he felt Dev’s resistance. He turned back to her and waited.
“I should tell you now because I sense that you both were close with my parents, and I owe you an explanation sooner rather than later, since you’ve brought me under your protection, and Wyatt saved my life a couple of times tonight and all,” Dev rambled nervously, “my parents are no longer alive. They, along with my brother and best friend, were killed when Max Breslin found my family’s compound and attacked.”
“Dammit,” Josiah exclaimed under his breath.
Sam’s eyes filled with tears, she was speechless. She had always known this day would come, but that knowledge did nothing to lessen the blow of Dev’s words. Josiah wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
Shocked by Sam’s reaction to her news, Dev felt horrible for causing the woman so much pain. Here she was, hiding out in her home, subjecting her to great danger and harm, and now she was just making things worse. Dev was so confused by the emotions coursing through her: how could she feel bad for causing pain to a member of the same group that killed her family, but how could she not when that member was Wyatt’s mother. It wasn’t supposed to be this grey and mixed-up. Dev wanted black-and-white lines dividing everything into easy buckets of who is to be detested and who is not.
Unfortunately, life never liked fitting into such simplistic categories.
“I’m so sorry,” Dev wanted Sam to stop crying. She hated watching someone’s mother cry.
“I didn’t mean to make you so upset. I just felt it was better for you to know now. I didn’t want you waiting to hear about my parents when really, the only news I have is very sad.”
Dev then shocked even herself and wrapped Sam in her embrace. Sam cried out in surprise and then returned the gesture, hugging Dev tightly, falling in love with her instantly. Sam pulled away and wiped her eyes, caressing Dev’s cheek in a very maternal manner.
“Please do not apologize, my goodness. I am the one who should be apologizing, making you recount this information to people you don’t even know. You’re just a child," Sam observed as she wiped the tears from her eyes.
"I'll be all right,” Dev tried to sound reassuring, “I've had a bit of time to sit and digest their loss, this is all so very new for you."
Searching for and finding Wyatt's hand, Dev grasped it behind her back, immediately comforted by his touch, by his steady presence, confident she wouldn’t cry so long as she held onto him.
Without thinking, Sam wrapped Dev into her arms again and kissed the side of her cheek, wetting Dev's face with her tears, fully aware the girl was holding onto her son for dear life.
"Of course I will worry about you," Sam informed Dev, "it's just my nature. And my job, no matter how many times they try to beat it into me that I’m a Founding Family Academy Head and shouldn’t get worked up about those under me. I do.
“Anyway,” Sam wiped her eyes again, “you all should go. I’m not going to keep you a second longer.”
“We’ll be back for those pancakes,” Wyatt winked and kissed his mom’s cheek then headed out the door with Dev and Ryker.
The threesome traveled the distance from one Academy wing to another in silence, each wrapped in their own thoughts, all of them beyond exhausted.
“Clayworth,” Ryker stated tiredly as he slipped his key into his door, “I swear I’m not letting you out of my sight ever again.”
“No worries,” Wyatt replied, “ because I’m never again leaving these gates without you.”
“Goodnight,” Ryker walked into his suite, then called out as he shut his door, “and do NOT wake me for pancakes!”
Wyatt laughed tiredly as he fiddled with the keys to Dev's door. The suite had been empty for years and the lock was testy as ever. Dev watched Wyatt struggle for a few minutes and then stepped in, wrapping her fingers around his, giving the key a brisk, upward shake in the lock and successfully disengaging the mechanism.
“It just needed a little love is all,” she said as she shot Wyatt a Cheshire Cat-like smile and walked into her palatial suite.
Similar to Wyatt's, a long, mahogany-paneled hallway led into a large, wide open space that included a living room, formal dining room and kitchen. Unlike Wyatt's, one side of the living room was floor-to-ceiling windows that led onto a private terrace. The walls were white and the floors a deep brown, otherwise the space was a blank canvas, waiting for someone to leave their mark.
"Wow!" Dev exclaimed as she spun around in the living room.
"This works for you?"
"Yes, Mr. Clayworth, I believe it does," she happily replied, her smile stretching from cheek to cheek.
It pleased him to see her like this, seemingly without a care in the world. He knew this moment would be short-lived, but it was beautiful while it lasted.
"What?" Dev asked him, suddenly aware of his silence.
“Nothing,” Wyatt replied, not wanting to ruin the moment, “I’m going to get out of your way, let you clean up and get some sleep.”
“Okay,” she replied as she continued examining the room, “but come here for a second.”
Wyatt smiled but he didn’t move a muscle.
“No?” she asked.
He shook his head.
“Fair enough,” Dev smiled, not certain of his motives, confused by his behavior.
“I’m right next door if you need anything,” Wyatt offered as he headed for the front door, “just knock.”
Dev followed behind him, noting the exhaustion written all over his body. She didn’t want him to leave, but felt he needed to get away from her for a bit, so she kept her desires to herself. He suddenly stopped and turned back to her, catching her off-guard.
“You know how you said earlier that with me you
get ‘no information, no nothing’,” he began, “did you really mean that?”
“I did,” Dev replied.
The hallway was dark and Wyatt could barely make out Dev’s face, but her silhouette was perfectly backlit by the lamps in the living room. He stepped closer to her, studying her quietly. She watched him, wondering what he was thinking, wishing he would wrap her in his arms, annoyed that she yearned for him so badly. Wyatt looked down at her most perfect face and wanted to pull her close, but resisted the temptation.
“Are you okay?” she asked, unable to read Wyatt’s strange expression.
“What did you mean by ‘no nothing’?” Wyatt asked, instead of answering Dev’s question.
She smiled.
“I simply meant there is nothing when I try to read your mind. That’s all.”
“So ‘no nothing’ doesn’t mean that you feel nothing?” he asked as he untied her topknot and ran his hands through her hair, finally giving in and touching her, knowing Dev was right when she teased him about being able to keep his hands to himself.
“No,” Dev closed her eyes, “it does not mean that I feel nothing when I think of you. Not even close.”
She leaned into Wyatt’s hands but not his body, afraid if she did, he would back away, so determined was he to maintain a wall between them.
“Good,” he whispered in her ear and walked away, closing her front door behind him. Only when she heard his own door close did Dev open her eyes and breathe again.
An hour later, she was scrubbed and clean, lying in her own bed, under her brand new sheets, wearing crisp, new shorts and a tank top, all perfect and pristine. She felt fresh. And restless. Dev rolled onto her stomach, then onto her back, counted to one thousand and sang the ABC’s backwards twice yet, sleep remained a fleeting mistress that did not feel like being caressed, despite the overwhelming exhaustion she felt in every bone and muscle of her body.
She closed her eyes, stretched her mind out and searched. She bumped against Ryker, peacefully asleep, and Jools, Sam, Josiah, hundreds of others, but no Wyatt. The one soul who could comfort her was the one she could not reach telepathically. Dev told herself to leave Wyatt alone and go to sleep, to meditate, to practice her breathing exercises, anything but head to Wyatt’s room, but Wyatt’s room was exactly where she went.
Book One: The Girl (The Sanctum) Page 19
