The Way

by Mary E. Twomey

  Blue ran to the kitchen and threw open the utility closet, scanning the contents for something that could look like a first aid kit. On the top shelf rested a small white box with a protruding handle. It was much too high for her to reach, but before she could grab a chair or hoist herself up the shelves to grab it, a tall body appeared behind her.

  “What’s going on?” Liam asked, the teasing tone never leaving his voice.

  “Could you grab that box for me, sir?” Blue requested, not bothering to divert her eyes from his.

  Liam paused for a moment to absorb her appearance. Then he reached over her slight frame and pulled down the white box with “First Aid” written in red block letters on the front.

  Blue sighed with relief. “Thanks.” She took it from him and moved out of the closet, shutting the door behind them. There were clean rags in the drawer nearest the sinks. To be on the safe side, she snatched up four of them. Without offering an explanation, she moved quickly out of the kitchen and smacked right into Sam, nearly knocking him back.

  “Oh!” she exclaimed, steadying herself as he held onto her shoulders to keep himself from falling over. “I’m sorry, sir!”

  Words came to him only when he saw what it was that Blue was clinging to. “What’s wrong? Is your brother hurt or something?” He did not retract his hands from her arms.

  Blue shook her head, unable to calculate how much time she was wasting by standing mutely in front of the most attractive Vemreaux she’d ever seen. She was suddenly aware of her exposed skin covered only by shorts and a tank top.

  “No, it’s Elle. She’s one of the candidates for the Light and she got injured in the testing. They sent her home a mess.”

  Sam released her, but then pressed his hand to her back, walking beside her toward the exit. “We’ll give you a ride, then. It’ll be faster.”

  “Okay,” she agreed. Her response caused him to stiffen.

  “You don’t have to, you know. I’m not going to make you come with us. We’ll drive you home only if you want us to.” His pace slowed and Blue worried at the wasted time.

  “Okay,” she consented again, not understanding his quandary.

  Sam groaned at her reply.

  Never had a man other than her brother led her with his palm pressed to her like that. It was equally gentle and firm. Through the contact she could tell that, despite his slacked demeanor, hard muscle lurked beneath the surface. Though she would have shrugged away from the contact were it anyone else, she thrilled at the touch and allowed him to direct her.

  Until she tripped again. The box fell to the ground as the toe of her shoe caught on the floor. She pitched forward and would have landed on her face if Sam’s hands hadn’t righted her. “Ugh!” she groaned. “What is my deal today?”

  Sam shrugged. “You impervious to tripping?”

  “Usually? Yeah.”

  Sam knew there was a pickup line that perfectly fitted the situation, but he bit his tongue as she moved forward. Though Sam dropped his hand from her as she locked the diner back up, he stayed close, not permitting more than an arm’s length to come between them even as they jogged in the parking lot out to the car. “Alec, keys.” When Alec did not comply, Sam insisted further. “Your old lady speed isn’t going to cut it right now. You don’t like it, you and Liam can call a cab again.”

  Blue eyed the vehicle warily as she slid into the back seat between Alec and Brody. When the vehicle glided forward instead of jolting like Baird’s 4x4 did, her eyes darted around to make sure that they were, indeed, moving. Her hand gripped the back of her seat and reached out to hold onto the center console before her. She tried unsuccessfully to keep her face from displaying its inner turbulence.

  Sam took his gaze off the road to stare at her wide eyes and tensed body. “Are you okay, little Wayward?” he asked.

  Blue wished he would focus on the road. “I’m fine. I just don’t ride in cars much. Left up ahead.”

  “What, do you take the bus?” Liam asked conversationally, turning to look at the wild-eyed woman.

  Blue shook her head, tightening her hold as they rounded a corner. She fought down the vomit that threatened to explode out of her with the unnatural rocking. “No, I run. And there aren’t cars in The Way. This is like the fifth time I can remember ever being in a car,” she admitted. “They go so fast.”

  Sam eased his foot off the accelerator. “Sorry. I was just trying to get to your friend quicker.”

  “No. Go fast. It’s fine. I’m just not used to it. I’ll get over it,” she assured him through gritted teeth. “Baird’ll be mad if we go slow because of me.”

  “Baird’ll get over it,” Sam grumbled, not speeding up at all.

  “Here,” Alec offered, reaching around her and placing his hand on her shoulder. “Let me anchor you.”

  Sam watched in the rearview mirror, regretting his insistence on driving. He followed her directions and ended at a shabby hut that had probably stood prouder before World War Three. Many bricks were chipped, the roof was barely hanging on and there was no railing for the stoop. The roof was missing a few shingles, and the missing bricks on the outside showed different layers of color and raw material beneath the sub-par construction.

  Sam stopped the car. Blue’s heart thudded when she reached over Alec and tried the handle, but the door did not open. For the briefest of moments, she thought that perhaps it had all been one elaborate hoax, and they were going to kidnap her. Fear swarmed up in her and trapped the shout to the walls of her throat, so it did not give her away. Before trying to break the glass, the locks popped up of their own accord. When she tried the handle again, it opened easily. She chided herself for being so paranoid.

  Alec eyed her curiously as she stepped out, clutching the white box and the four rags. “What? Did you think we were going to lock you in or something?”

  Not knowing if she should respond with the truth, Blue kept her mouth shut.

  Liam followed behind her. “Aw, come on, kitten. Why would I go through the trouble of buying you if I was just going to kidnap you?” He pretended to consider this as a viable option. “Wait. On second thought, hop in the trunk for me. It’s cheaper your way.”

  Blue permitted a small smile to brush her lips at his joke as she rushed past him up the stairs. She opened the door and tossed the first aid kit to her brother, who had Elle still clinging to his shirt. Her side was no longer bleeding, but there was nothing clean to get the blood off with besides their only bath towel, which Elle categorically refused to sully.

  Baird opened the white box and pulled out several things that Blue did not recognize.

  “Get a rag wet, Blue, and hand it to Grettel.” Then, as an afterthought, he added snidely, “So you decided to show the prince our palace?”

  Rarely was it wise to converse with Baird when he delved into the depths of sarcasm, so Blue kept her mouth shut as she ran water over one of the long rags.

  “These are the guys I was telling you about. The ones who know Blue’s secret now, and are gonna try to help get her over to the island,” Baird explained.

  The stench of fresh A-type blood was a little overwhelming for Sam, but he kept his thoughts to himself and tried not to wrinkle his nose.

  “What happened?” Liam asked. “Your sister said she got hurt at the testing?”

  “I know you,” Elle commented. “You were there yesterday to see if anyone slept.”

  “Liam.” He made to stick his hand out for her to shake, but realized the folly of this. The beautiful woman was on the floor nursing a very fresh wound and shouldn’t be bothered with niceties. He stepped back to stand next to Sam at the entrance.

  “I’m not the Light, Liam. I’m not her!” she confessed, tears rolling down her face.

  Alec eyed the gash. “Baird, do you know how to do stitches? It looks like she might need them.”

  Baird shrugged as if he couldn’t be bothered with such things as knowledge at present. “I’ll figure it out.” He watched a
s Grettel wiped away the blood and revealed not one, but many cuts.

  “I can’t, Baird!” Grettel cried. “I never learned stitches! Nurse K-K-K-Kalista n-n-never…”

  Baird reached out and touched Grettel’s hand to calm the stuttering that always came about when she thought of the nurse who abused her so long ago. “Shh, Grettel. I know. Don’t worry about it.” He squeezed Elle. “Hold still, Elle.”

  Brody, Alec, Sam and Liam stood inside the entryway at a complete loss. The hut looked small from the outside, but being inside of it, they felt positively cramped. Guilt washed over them when they compared the hut to their privileged living quarters.

  Liam eyed the mattress on the floor. “Makes me feel like a jerk for complaining about the softness of the hotel bed two nights ago.”

  “You are pretty high maintenance,” Sam agreed as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it up.

  Liam guffawed. “You’re one to talk.”

  Sam couldn’t wrap his mind around the quaint hut until Blue passed in front of his frozen vision to exchange Grettel’s soiled rag for a fresh one. Being alerted to her presence snapped him back to the matter at hand.

  “Let me,” Sam offered, stepping toward the huddle across from Baird where there was an extra bit of room.

  Baird sized up the Vemreaux warily.

  Sam rolled his eyes. “I was a bodyguard, remember? You don’t want to know how many times I stitched this one up.” He jerked his thumb at Liam, who beamed with pride at having accumulated numerous injuries.

  Baird did not look impressed. “You know, actual medical experience would be more assuring.”

  Sam’s helpfulness was obscured by an unsettling, crazy look that swept over him. He unbuttoned his cuff and rolled up his sleeve to show Baird the many marks on his arm. Blue gasped at the long, angry scars. Most Vemreaux had theirs removed before they dipped in the Fountain.

  “If I can stitch myself up, I can handle little cuts like hers. Trust me, I can help you.” He smiled at the marred skin paternally, fire lighting beneath his black eyes and revealing his volatile nature.

  “Sam,” cautioned Liam warily, bringing his best friend back to reality.

  “Yeah, well her skin’s Wayward, not Vemreaux. Don’t make it worse,” Baird threatened as Sam washed his hands.

  “No pressure,” Liam added, winking conspiratorially at Blue. Blue looked down at the floor when her smile betrayed her.

  After looking around for any other place to sit, Sam knelt down on the mattress next to Elle. He pulled out his lighter and heated the needle retrieved from the first aid kit to disinfect it. Cigarette in hand, he threaded the needle and examined the lesion. The only spot too deep to heal on its own was about nine centimeters long and stretched between her abdomen and the front of her hipbone. “Blue?” Sam glanced up toward her, hoping to see her face without a veil of hair between them.

  “Sir?” Blue replied without looking up.

  “Could you get a fresh rag and wipe off the wound? It’s still a little bloody.”

  Blue obeyed, leaving Grettel to scurry over to Baird while still trying to keep a safe distance from the three at the entrance.

  Blue sat down right next to Sam so that she could study what he was doing. His usual edge of sarcasm or just plain aggression melted into sweetness as the heat from her body connected with his. “So, first I’m pouring this on the open area,” he showed her the bottle. “It disinfects the cut, and it’s already diluted. No point in sewing it up if it’s all infected, yeah?” He wasn’t sure why he hoped she’d respond verbally, but when she did not, it brought about a small amount of frustration. Like a hesitant animal, he had to lure Blue to him with the promise of work and usefulness. “Elle, is it?” Sam asked, turning his attention to the patient. “This is going to sting a little.” Before Elle could ready herself for the oncoming pain, Sam squirted a healthy amount of the clear liquid onto the wound and watched Blue as she observed it seethe and bubble angrily.

  To her credit, Elle only expressed her discomfort through choppy breathing and did not complain or cry out. The stench of her blood was beginning to get to Sam, so he made quick work of sewing up the tear.

  “Think you could not smoke all over her, nurse?” Baird commented as Elle coughed.

  “Good luck prying those away from him,” Brody said with a snort.

  “Smoking soothes me. You want me tense and unfocused for this?” Sam protested, stick protruding from his lips. When Elle’s coughing became a problem for his sewing, he jutted his chin out to Blue. “Fine. Take it, little Wayward. And put your free hand here to keep the flap closed while I sew it up.”

  Blue hesitated only a second, but obeyed. Her fingers brushed his lips as she relieved him of his habit for a few seconds, and the blush she knew her brother could see crept up her neck, unbidden. She tried to ignore Baird’s incoherent grumbling. Her other hand reached down and pressed the edge of the cut inward. When Sam’s fingers met her at the center, she had to summon more strength than usual to keep a controlled face.

  “Then you tie a knot at the end of the thread a few times, so it catches.” Sam continued instructing her on the mechanics of stitching, feeling like a dunce when Baird pointed out that all Waywards were taught how to sew, and that most of the t-shirts made in the Americas were stitched together by them.

  Blue made a good nurse, holding the flap of ripped skin with her steady fingers, and not once getting queasy at the sight of the blood or the needle. Sam laced the few stitches into the skin while Elle tried to stay as still as possible with no anesthetic.

  “You’re a tough one, Elle,” Sam commented. “Better than quite a few Vemreaux I’ve had to patch up over the years. That one howls like a baby,” he joked, smirking up at Liam, who shrugged in his defense. Sam sealed the stitches with a large band-aid that had adhesive on all four edges. “There you are. Good as new.”

  Elle thanked him, and in the very next breath, allowed her tears to flow once more into Baird’s shirt. Now that he could move her without causing more damage to the wound, Baird sat back and leaned against the wall to rest his stiff knees.

  Elle did not need the invitation to take her small window of advantage and play the damsel in distress. So rare was she allotted the role that she wasted no time in crawling into his open lap so that her tired blonde head could rest on his firm shoulder. “It’s over! It’s over!” she repeated.

  “I know, Elle. You were amazing.” Baird kissed her cheeks so tenderly, that Grettel looked away. It was rare that Baird complimented Elle, and rarer still that he coddled her. Grettel wanted the moment to last as long as possible.

  Sam opened his mouth, and Blue placed the cigarette back between his full lips. Before he could utter the flirty comment he’d built up, Blue picked up the tools they used to patch up Elle and stood from the mattress. Sam frowned when it occurred to him that not only could he not get her to look at him or come near him without some sort of nonsexual incentive, but he could not keep her near him once he finally got her there.

  Like a puppy, Sam stood and followed her over to the sink to wash his hands with her. He kept expecting to have to breathe through his mouth around Blue, but found that he could stomach the scent of A-blood coming from her.

  Blue stopped rinsing her hands so that he could wash his first. Sam scrubbed all the way up past his wrists to insure that all traces of the foul blood were gone before he rinsed the conglomeration of suds away. Seeing no other towel, he picked up a clean rag Blue had taken from the diner and dried his hands off with it.

  Unable to put too much distance between them, he turned off the water for her when her hands were clean and began blotting the water from her skin gently, intertwining his arms with hers so that he could feel her body heat once again. Of course, he could have just handed her the towel. He could have placed it on the counter for her to pick up and dry her hands off with, but the high that Sam got from being so near to her was better than any drug he’d ever done. Blue was tempting and
amazingly addictive. He was glad that she didn’t seem the type to ask for anything, because if she did, he was pretty sure he would do it, no matter the consequences.

  Sam shivered when Blue made the bold move of tracing one of the many scars on his forearm. Her captivating eyes took in the marks, while worry weighed down her expression.

  Sam leaned closer to her. “Don’t worry. Elle’s will heal much better than that one.”

  Blue did not respond, but looked up at him, face forlorn. There were so many things he wanted to say to her. Usually his turbulent childhood was brushed over with as much bravado as he could muster, but he found that he could not ignore the woman, nor could he manage to distance himself from her.

  Blue’s eyes were full of gratitude and something that looked a bit like longing. “Thank you,” she whispered. The sound of her voice wrapped around him like a hook, pulling him forward against his better judgment.

  The urges he normally succumbed to were baser and involved dark corners or very uninhibited Femreaux, but in that moment, his hand reached out and touched the thick waves of auburn that tried to obscure the world’s view of her face. His fingers moved her lovely hair and tucked it behind her ear, revealing whole parts of her countenance he’d not seen before. The slope of her soft cheek led down to her jaw, where his thumb decided to take up residence. He watched her eyes flutter shut and noticed her breathing hitch as she was lulled into the same spell that held him so firmly in its clutches. Her beguiling mouth was right there, and his thumb acted on its own as it traced the curve of her full lower lip.

  Blue was unaware of the feet that kept her attached to the floor. She could not recall how many Janes were still in The Way, nor the perfect order in which she usually kept their barcodes filed away in her mind. For once in her life, Blue even managed to forget about Baird as her heart rate quickened at Sam’s gentle touch. There was one person, one name that took over, and she breathed it without thinking. “Sam.”

  “What did I say would happen if you put your hands on my sister again, Vem?” Baird interrupted their tender moment with his acute knack for abrasiveness, slamming them both back into reality. He moved Elle off his lap and stalked over to Sam, ripping the Vemreaux from his sister.