Forget Me Not (#2, The Mystic Wolves)

by Belinda Boring

  I looked around the room, knowing he’d felt my presence, and waited for him to finish his work out sequence. It looked like a miniature version of the gym I knew Devlin had set up in the basement, only there were less weight machines. A wide forty-two inch television screen was mounted against the wall, and an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer was playing.

  Letting out a loud exhale, Vlad finally turned, a wide smile on his face. “Hey, back already from your meeting? Get what you needed?” He leaned over to grab the towel hanging from the treadmill and began wiping his brow.

  “We did. That’s where Devlin is at the moment, out questioning the witch who cast the spell on the ring. We’re hoping she’ll cooperate and tell us if she’s working for anyone. When he gets back, we’ll begin planning our next move.” I eyed the punching bag.

  I’d seen these on television before. They were shaped in the form of a man and used to help train in self-defense. The theory was, the more accurate the target, the easier it was when faced with an attacker in real life.

  “Want to give it a go?” Vlad raised his eyebrow, pointing to where he was last standing. I shrugged out of my jacket, and began swinging my arms in a circular motion to loosen up my shoulder muscles. Placing my feet in the proper stance, I let my punch fly, connecting directly with the rubber jawline.

  “So, what have you got planned for the rest of the day?” I asked, setting a steady pace of hits. I aimed for the face and sternum, trying to put as much of my strength behind each connection as I could. It felt good to release some of the aggression that had been building. It also wasn’t too hard, considering each punch I threw I imagined I was hitting Amber’s face. “Did you have much luck last night?” I tried to hide my grin as I heard Vlad snort. Judging from his response, he’d struck out.

  “What is it with you females? I try to give you what you want and still you reject me?” The poor vampire sounded like a wounded puppy, and I paused a moment between jabs.

  “Have you ever thought you’re trying too hard? That maybe you should just be yourself?” I watched as he opened a bottle of what looked like blood, and barely stopped myself from cringing as he swallowed large mouthfuls. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he placed the container on the floor before coming to stand behind the punching equipment.

  “Please, do you honestly think that’s the problem?” he retorted, shaking his head, pointing to a place on the rubber form, and directing me to hit there. I did as he asked, and followed it up with a lower cut blow. Gesturing for me to try again, I did.

  “Don’t forget I was once human, I watched and studied. Human females are all so infatuated with vampires in general, but they’re impossible to please. Take her for instance.” He paused long enough to look at the television screen. “Buffy loves Angel, but then along comes Spike. Two different vampires, and she winds up loving them both. I read the fan pages all over the internet, these two males have large followings, but when I assume their personalities, I get nothing. I am either too out dated, too aggressive, or my attempts are mocked. It’s frustrating. Eternity is a long time, and I don’t want to live it alone.” He released a soft growl, venting his annoyance, and I watched as his eyes flashed.

  “Again, I honestly think you’re trying too hard. Just be you. It’s enough.” I moved to touch his arm, but hesitated, choosing instead to step away from the equipment. “Girls just need to know that who they’re with, who they want to give their heart to, is real. They don’t want an imposter, or someone who’s so insecure they’d rather play at being another person. Surely you can see that, right?”

  I felt so bad for him—standing there vulnerable with his heart and insecurities displayed plainly on his sleeve.

  “I don’t know. It didn’t seem to help me when I was human, and I thought things would be different once I was a vampire. It’s why I chose this for my name.” Taking the towel, Vlad began wiping down the punching target, signaling an end to our impromptu workout.

  “Well, give it some thought. And I wouldn’t worry, Devlin is single as well, and he’s doing just fine. You’re not defined by your relationship. Maybe, you need to find out who you are first, who you are since you’ve turned, before you bring another person into your life.” I shrugged.

  “Haha, Devlin is single by choice. It was one of the first things I asked after my change and noticed how females seemed to naturally gravitate to him. I thought something must be wrong with him, because who would purposely choose to be alone? Either that, or he works so hard he has no time.”

  “What did he say?” Devlin’s relationship status was definitely something I’d been curious about, but never had the courage to broach. Like Vlad, I’d always assumed his role as an enforcer kept him too busy, or that his lifestyle was too dangerous for whomever he dated.

  “You. You’re the reason he remains single.” He must have seen the shock register on my face, because he looked back at me in surprise. “You didn’t know? Devlin loves you, Darcy, and other than his responsibilities to the King, you are one of his major focuses. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you, no obstacle he wouldn’t remove to keep you safe and happy. Funny, I thought you would’ve realized that? He didn’t tell you?”

  My mind whirled, trying to grasp hold of what I was hearing so I could force it to make sense. I knew Devlin was protective of me, he’d been a long, and trusted friend of mine—a constant in my life. I knew he loved me, but was Vlad suggesting there was more to it?

  A noise began to blare in the room, preventing me from asking more questions. Turning to find the source, Vlad lifted the remote beside the television and turned it off.

  “That’s my cue, I need to get going. Got a huge night planned, and I need the rest of the afternoon to get ready. We good here?” he asked, before moving toward the door.

  I nodded. I couldn’t find my voice, his revelations still churning inside me. I raised my hand to wave him goodbye, and it took a few seconds to realize he’d started speaking again.

  “Thanks for your advice. I’ll think on it some more. Who knows, maybe you’re right and that’s all it’ll take.” He chuckled, and closed the door behind him as he left.

  I stood for a moment, staring at the wooden frame, willing Vlad to return so he could answer my questions. The idea that Devlin was attracted to me, that he loved me more than friends was absurd, but I had a hard time dismissing it.

  Shaking my head, I took one last look around the makeshift gym, and following his lead, headed out to my original destination.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I loved everything about Devlin’s study, and it was probably one of my favorite places in the house. Floor to ceiling bookshelves with volume after volume of books covered most of the walls, and the whole room had a warm, comfortable feel to it. Devlin had added different things over the years—soft leather couches that seemed to swallow you whole when you sat on them, beautiful lamps that set the perfect ambience for a lazy afternoon of reading, and an incredible stained oak desk, where he would sit for hours and work on enforcer business. I used to sneak in and sit there, enjoying the feeling of the cushioned chair and the slight noise it made as I swiveled it from side to side. He had a state of the art computer system placed on top on a large stand—ideal for hours of playing solitaire and surfing the internet.

  I quietly closed the door, resting my body against the surface for a moment while I collected my thoughts. I allowed the stillness of the room to settle over me, seep into my soul with its peaceful energy. The air was just the right temperature, and as I took in a deep breath, I could smell the assorted books, and the faint lingering scent of Devlin. He’d been in here recently.

  Not knowing where to begin, I approached the first set of bookshelves and starting from the very top, systematically began reading through the different titles. He had such an eclectic taste to what he read, from Shakespeare, to a book on ancient architecture, to a tome on the history of magic. I dragged my finger across each spine, pausing to occa
sionally pull the book out to look at the cover, before sliding it back into place.

  A title jumped out, causing me to laugh out loud. Devlin and I played this game where we would each sneak in a book of our choice to the other’s bookshelf as a suggestion for future reading. He was always trying to introduce culture to my life, to broaden my horizons, and me—I just wanted to spice things up for him. Holding the copy of Dark Lover by J.R. Ward, I could tell he’d made it half way through the book, and I wondered how he was enjoying it. The vampires, The Black Dagger Brotherhood, were definitely different from what he was used to, but I thought it would at least be an entertaining read for him.

  A thought hit my mind, followed by an image, and I covered my mouth to hold back the laughter. Vlad was on a crusade to find his identity, and the idea of him dressed in leathers, wearing combat boots, and twirling daggers was too much. Resisting the urge to hide the book from him, I couldn’t help myself as I walked over to one of the sofa’s side tables, and placed the novel there. Making sure it was visible, I grinned, hoping I was around when and if Vlad ever found it.

  I kept looking, taking different books from the shelf and stacking them on Devlin’s desk for a closer inspection. I wasn’t picky with what I snatched, and I was glad to see a steady pile forming. If it caught my eye, I was eager to check it out.

  Coming toward the end of my search, a volume drew my attention, and as I tugged it away from the two books it was sandwiched between, I couldn’t help but notice how old it was. The action caused some of the inside content to flutter to the floor, and bending to pick them up, I noticed some of the papers were drawings.

  Forgetting my task for the moment, I scooped everything up and taking a seat behind the desk, traced my finger on the outside of what looked like a journal of sorts. It had a beautifully tanned cover made of leather, with the initial D embossed at the bottom. Opening it, I could see the elegant scroll of writing, the ink slightly faded, and judging from the date of the first entry, it was over a hundred years old.

  I felt like an intruder as I began to read the text, discovering it was indeed Devlin’s and an account of his life. It was tempting to see what kind of details I could uncover, truths about his past I could learn, but it wasn’t who I was. Whenever Devlin chose to share himself with me, I wanted it to be on his terms—what he wanted me to know.

  Beginning to replace the loose papers, letters from the looks of it, I paused a moment to study the detailed pencil drawings. They were all of a woman—the same woman—whether she was posed, or caught in a spontaneous moment. There were five of them, and my heart was curious about who she was and why Devlin had been so fascinated. He had captured her perfectly, from the light twinkling in her eyes, the radiance of her smile, and the way she looked back up from the paper. This was the object of devotion, and I turned one of the etchings over to see whether it revealed her identity.

  “That was Elynor, my sister.”

  The voice came from across the room, and I dropped the item in shock. I’d been so caught up in what I was doing, and I hadn’t realized Devlin’s return. I scrambled to place everything within the journal, rising to my feet so I could put it back where I’d found it. My cheeks flushed from embarrassment, and I felt the overwhelming need to apologize.

  “There’s no need to hurry, Darcy. If I had something to hide from others, I would’ve made sure to keep it better hidden. Or at least put it in a safer place,” He winked, stepping fully into the room.

  “I didn’t want you to think I was prying,” I stammered. “She’s incredibly beautiful, and just from the way you drew her, I can tell you loved her very much.”

  “My sister was everything to me, my entire world, and there was nothing I wouldn’t do for her. These drawings are just my way to pay tribute to her memory.” He gently took the volume from my hands, and smiled as he gazed on one of the portraits. “She was the perfect little sister, and I was adamant I’d be the perfect big brother. To this day, I wish I could have just one more moment with her, one last chance to hear the sweetness of her voice, be the receiver of one of her smiles.”

  He held a wistful look on his face, a softness I didn’t see often, and he was still for a second as if caught up in a memory. “She didn’t have an easy life, at least not toward the end. I would’ve given anything to spare her from such heartache, but the Fates decreed it was meant to be.” He glanced over at me, sitting back at the desk, sadness blazing in his eyes. “Who am I to dictate someone’s destiny?”

  “She’d be proud of you, you know. Of everything you’ve done, the way you protect others and keep the supernatural community safe.” I tried to find some way to comfort him.

  “She would never have liked me becoming a vampire. Understood it, yes, but never have wanted it for me. Maybe once in her youth, she would’ve thought it romantic.” Devlin chuckled, gesturing to me. “But as she grew older, as she saw the darker side of things … no, she would’ve wanted to protect me from all this.” He let out a sigh, raising the picture to his lips before returning it, and the journal, back to the shelf.

  “You mean you became a vampire after her death?” My mind scrambled to remember the tiny tidbits he’d offered about his past. I knew Elynor had been a witch, a powerful one, but I had always assumed she’d known who her brother had become.

  “I did. It was essential.” He laughed as he saw my mouth open, ready to fire more questions at him. “But that, sweetheart, is another story for another day.”

  I slouched back into my chair, frustrated. “Are you ever going to finally spill the beans and tell me?” I muttered. “I seriously don’t think you’ve ever told me the story behind why you turned. Was it by accident? Was it intentional? Was there a girl involved?” I wiggled my eyebrows, trying to coax him into talking more. “There was, wasn’t there?”

  “Okay, I’ll give you one more detail, and then you’re going to explain to me why you’ve got a possible avalanche of books on my desk.” He pointed to the teetering pile. “Yes, there was a girl involved, and before you get too excited, there was nothing romantic about it. It was because of an oath I made, and it was the only way I could see honoring it. Now, what are you looking for?”

  It took me a moment to catch the change in subject, and reluctantly I let it go. Pulling down the first book from the stack, I showed him the cover. “I was just reading. If it looked interesting, I placed it here on the desk. I’ve got a bit of everything here.”

  My phone vibrated, letting me know I had a message, and I broke out into a wide smile when I saw it was from Mason.

  Miss you, his text said.

  Quickly typing back a heart symbol and me too, I placed the phone on the tabletop and leaned back in the chair, releasing a happy sigh.

  “That good, huh?” Devlin asked, cocking his eyebrow.

  “It was Mason telling me he missed me.”

  “Ahhh, young love.” Devlin grinned and moved away from the bookcase. “So, you going to ask me about what I found out?”

  “Are you going to tell me if I do?” I fired back. “You’re not always so forthcoming, and I didn’t want to intrude on official business. I’m gathering you found out some good news?”

  “Morgan has been spot in Devil Springs. so it should only be a matter of time before we have her in custody for questioning. A day or two at the most.”

  It was amazing news, and I felt a burst of relief crash through me. “Good, the sooner we learn more, the sooner I can go home.” I paused for a second, realizing how that sounded. “Not that I’m not grateful.”

  Devlin laughed, and came to stand behind me, his hand on my shoulder. “I knew what you meant.” The coolness of his body permeated through his clothes, causing it to slightly chill my own. One of the titles must have caught his attention because he leaned forward, the movement bringing him incredibly close. I could feel the hardness of his muscles as they tensed.

  “I never would’ve pegged you to read this, Darcy.” Reaching out, he dragged a book from
the pile, and flipped it open. “I haven’t seen this in years. What made you choose it?”

  His breath feathered across my skin, causing goose bumps to flare where it touched, distracting me from what he was asking. It was a simple enough question, but all I could think about was what Vlad had said—about Devlin’s feelings for me.

  The slight pressure of our bodies touching caused a thrum to generate inside me, keeping me hyper aware of its presence. I swallowed hard, trying to form the words, and as I took in a deep breath to center myself, I realized it was the worst thing I could’ve done—now I could truly smell him.

  Devlin’s scent was intoxicating. I knew most of it was because he was a vampire, everything designed to entice and lure a person in, but underneath that lay him, who he was, and a masculinity and sexuality of his own. As a human, I had no doubt Devlin would’ve been lethal on his own, but with the power and sensuality that came from being supernatural, I didn’t know how anybody stood a chance to deny him anything.

  I took another breath, this one deeper, slower, and my mouth watered. The scent swirled around in my nose, sizzling, and I found myself leaning back into him. I could smell the faint spiciness of his cologne, the cleanness of the soap he’d used this morning, and the freshness of outside. He smelled like an electrical storm amongst the winds and rain. It was heady to the senses.

  “Are you going to answer me, Darcy?” Devlin interrupted, and I felt myself flush, my face heating to the temperature of a volcanoes core. I hadn’t even heard him ask me a question. “What the hell are you thinking about to make you blush like that?” He laughed, stepping around the desk to look at me better, and thankfully breaking the connection of our bodies. Common sense returned, and I groaned as I covered my face with my hands.

  “I’m an idiot,” I mumbled through my fingers.

  “Care to explain?” he asked, and removing a book from the shelf, he carried it over to one of the sofa chairs. Settling, he looked over at me.