Develyn's Tale Read online

  Pulling off the highway, he lowered the passenger window and peered out. It was a Queen Anne styled Victorian, well over a hundred years old. Down an overgrown lane and amongst overgrown bushes, it sat far back from the highway and was surrounded by harvested corn fields. The front porch was collapsed in on itself. The roof sagged dangerously on the main section of the house and was partially missing on the rounded turret. A single decorative scrolled corbel dangled precariously from the left eave. All the wood was bare and gray with weather and age and there were only black holes where all the windows used to be.

  Taking a sip of whiskey from his flask, Develyn stared at the decrepit shell in the cold bright moonlight.

  It was brilliant. Bloody perfect, really, he thought with a snicker. Old and empty on the inside, just like me.

  CHAPTER SIX

  TESTS PASSED and PATIENCE TESTED

  Standing in the shade of a great oak tree with flaming orange leaves, Develyn surveyed his surroundings from behind the dark lenses of his sun-glasses.

  It was another sunny warm day and people were out enjoying what was sure to be one of the last summer-like days of the year. People were everywhere. Sitting and having their lunches under the many trees throughout the courthouse yard. Sitting out on the first and second balconies of the apartment building across the street. Walking by on the sidewalks that cut through the courthouse grounds and on the sidewalks below. Zipping past in cars and trucks and on the occasional motorcycle.

  Emily was a clever woman, he thought with a smile. The time and locale she had chosen for their contentious little meeting was ideal. Midday, first day of a work week was typically busier than any other time and the corner she picked had to be at the busiest intersection in the whole town.

  It faced both Galena Avenue, the main north/south running thoroughfare– hence the placement of the white arch that spanned the four lanes and proudly displayed the Dixon name in purple letters– and 2nd Avenue, one of the major east/west running streets. He deduced she must have considered it the most secure as well. From where he stood, there was a red brick Baptist church across the street to his right and a white stone Presbyterian church across the street to his left. A fire station a half a block directly west and, he remembered from his scouting mission the night before, the police station was just a stone’s throw from the southwest corner of the square.

  Of course he couldn’t blame Emily for her distrust of him or her intense hatred, but in light of what he had come to do, Develyn needed to appear less threatening to her. He was resolved not to lose his temper and he decided to dress a little less international assassin and more typical American guy. Earlier that morning, he had gone to the nearest shopping center and bought a pair of Levi’s, a blue button down shirt and casual jacket of brown suede.

  As the bell in the tower of the Baptist church began to toll, Develyn was, once again, reminded how long it had been since he had been a part of the Natural Mortal world. He closed his eyes as he listened– the birds chirping– people talking and laughing– the resonating church bells– and he was transported back to the spring of 1890. To that Sunday afternoon in Cambridgeshire when he and David had taken their luncheon at the Red Feather Inn. How they carried on and spoke excitedly of their futures that awaited them in London the following summer . . .

  As the sound of last bell faded, so did his memory, and he became aware of someone’s eyes boring a hole through him. Glancing around, he noticed that a pair of young women, obviously clerical staff from the courthouse, were casting curious glances his way. When they saw him looking their way, they giggled and dropped their eyes, but the sensation didn’t subside.

  Turning around, he saw Emily approaching from the east. She was dressed as if it was already the dead of winter and she wore a knee-length tan woolen coat and a green scarf wrapped snugly about her neck. She had a child carrying device hooked on her right arm, but her attention was on the cargo inside it.

  Looking past her, Develyn spied Robbie. He was wearing a red and black checked flannel shirt and jeans, and although he couldn’t see them, he knew he was wearing white socks and with his sandals. A particular habit of the old man’s that annoyed him. Closing the passenger door, Robbie leaned back against it, crossed his arms over his chest and openly glared at him. Figuring he was most likely the reason for the uneasy feeling, Develyn acknowledged him with a dip of his chin and returned his focus on Emily and the babe.

  Emily had stopped, well out of arm’s reach he noted, and reluctantly met his eyes. From the moment Develyn had Marked her in the woods, he had heard her every thought. The renewed grief for David, every hate-filled, vengeful wish on him and every fearful worry for her son. He had also experienced every nightmare that had plagued her sleep and so he was not surprised by her pale and drawn features and the firm set of her mouth. Reminding himself to remain collected, he clasped his hands behind his back and greeted her with a slight bow. “How good of you to come.”

  Emily stiffened, as if the sound of his voice hurt her ears. With a scowl, she softly muttered, “Spare me. As if I really had a choice.”

  Develyn bit back a smile. He admired her bravado. She was obviously still frightened of him. Her thoughts were racing as quickly as her heart was thudding against her ribs, but her hatred for him and the protectiveness of her child had given her an incredible inner strength.

  With another bow, he said, “Again, touche’, my dear.”

  Forcing air through her nose, she spat, “Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”

  Lifting the carrier, Emily held it before her and presented her son to him like the precious gift he was.

  Develyn took his sun-glasses off and squinted painfully against the sun. He took a hesitant step forward and inhaled the sweet scent of innocence and new life. As he peered down at the sleeping baby, he thought he had never seen a more magnificent child. For the first time since that evil bitch, Valaree Von Wahran, had forced her vile blood down his throat, Develyn was glad he was a vampire. For if he was a Natural, tears would have welled in his eyes and his breath would have caught in his throat at the sight of the child who was clearly a wondrous combination of father and mother; chubby cheeks, nubby little nose, thick cap of dark black hair and full pouting lips so like his mummy’s.

  But as it were, all Develyn could do was gape silently and wish he could scoop the babe up and hold him close. Unconsciously, he stepped closer and Emily retreated a couple steps defensively.

  Without taking his eyes from the sleeping child, he said, “Worry not, my dear, I would not dare touch him. I am far too cold at the moment.”

  The naked look of tender amazement on Develyn’s pale face and the words he spoke, sounding so much like David’s, took Emily completely off guard. She almost felt sorry for her overreaction, but remembering who he was and how they all had come to be there that day, she recovered quickly and said, “Well, you’ve seen him. And now, we’re leaving.”

  Her words snapped him out of his reverie and Develyn’s eyes shot to her face. “No, wait. Please, uncover him and step into the sunlight.”

  Emily paused and glanced around nervously. “I know what you’re thinking, but we’ve already tested him. Robert told me about all about the two women that were born like him and he say’s little David is–”

  “I don’t give a tinker’s damn what Robbie has said,” he interrupted harshly and then seeing her flinch, politely added, “Please, just do as I ask.”

  Snapping her mouth closed, she did as he commanded. She stepped a few feet farther away from him and set the carrier down on the grass in the sunshine. Ignoring the far too curious looks of the two women sitting nearby, she knelt beside it and moved the handle out of the way. She removed the baby blue blanket from around David and gently pulled back the sleeve of his blue onesie. He squirmed and opened his eyes briefly, but then he stilled and went back to sleep.

  Develyn folded and slipped his glasses into the inner pocket of his jacket and withdrew a small crysta
l bottle. Unscrewing its silver cap, he held it out to her. “Now take this and place a droplet on the back of his hand.”

  Emily stared at the bottle she knew held holy water, but didn’t move to take it. With another nervous glance around, she shook her head and as quietly as possible, said, “That’s not necessary either. David was baptized weeks ago.”

  Develyn wasn’t leaving there until he was sure the babe was a Natural Mortal. Completely and totally human. In three angry strides, he crossed to her and in a clipped British tone, ordered her to do it.

  Seething, she reached up and snatched the bottle from his cold fingers. She wet her forefinger and handed it back to Develyn before placing a drop of water on David’s little curled up hand.

  If it were possible to hold his breath, Develyn would have. Instead, he kept his hands, clenched nervously, hidden in his coat pockets. He watched for a sign that the babe felt discomfort or a blister to form, but nothing happened. David didn’t move or cry.

  After a few tense-filled minutes, Develyn, his relief apparent, softly proclaimed, “He’s a Natural Mortal. Completely human.”

  “Yes,” Emily snapped. “Just as I told you,” she muttered as she tugged David’s sleeve back down. “And now that you’ve seen him,” she said, tucking the blanket back around him, “and I’ve performed your little tests, we’re leaving,” she said as she stood with the carrier.

  Develyn reached out to stop her, but dropped his hand and said, “No, wait, please.”

  Emily stopped and pivoted on him, her blue eyes narrowing. “No! I’ve done everything you’ve asked and we’re done here! Now, j, just, leave us alone,” she stuttered hotly.

  “But there is something I must tell you.”

  “What!?” she demanded, taking a bold step toward him and meeting his eyes. “What could you,” she began, jabbing her forefinger at him, “possibly have to say that I,” she said thumbing toward herself, “would want to hear?”

  Again, her words felt like a well aimed thrust of a sword, but he was no longer in the mood to parry. He was beginning to feel the effects of the searing sun and his resolve went up in smoke.

  His hand snaked out and grabbed her arm and his dark eyes narrowed angrily as he glared down at her. “It is not a question of whether or not you want to hear what I have to say, my dear, for it is something you must hear. However,” he said through a clenched jaw, “this is not the time nor the place to discuss it. Nor am I asking your permission. I am telling you. I will be at your home at seven o’clock this evening. Do not try to run. Do not make me search for you. Be there,” he said, his tone promising more pain if she was foolish enough to disobey him.

  Develyn’s fingers bit coldly into her arm, but Emily refused to cry out or look away from his glowering face. Blinking back the tears that sprang to her eyes, she nodded. “Fine,” she gasped. “I’ll be there.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Benny’s Break

  Benny slipped on his dark, silver framed shades, pulled on his Chicago Cubs baseball cap and stood the collar of his navy blue pea coat up around his ears. All in order to shield himself against the midday sun as he was on his way to the courthouse to have lunch with Ione.

  He left the hospital and as he cut across the parking lot, his mind turned to Emily. He was worried about her. He rang her the night before, like any good friend would do, but Robert was screening her calls and wouldn’t let him through. And although he had been ready to throttle the old man, he was glad Emily had such diligent and loyal friend watching over her and her son.

  When he spoke with her that morning, she had sounded exhausted and quite out-of-sorts and Benny had a feeling he knew why. Surely Develyn, by now, had made his demand to see his nephew and Benny wished there was some way he could help her. Some way that wouldn’t get him killed in the process.

  As he came around the corner of the Jones Funeral Home, Benny couldn’t believe his luck. Across the street, he saw Emily’s car and Robert leaning against it and he knew she couldn’t be far away. Waiting for a gold Prius to pass, he crossed and as he jumped up onto the curb, he spotted her. She had little David in his carrier, and they were across the lawn speaking to, lo and behold, Develyn himself and Benny knew he must have stumbled upon the meeting.

  Pretending he hadn’t already seen her, couldn’t hear her voice above all others or smell her scent wafting on the breeze, he called out, “Hey, Dude! What’re you doing here? Where’s Emily?” As he pretended to look around earnestly, he said, “Oh, there she is. Who’s that with her?”

  Robert’s eyebrows drew together. His eyes darted between Benny’s face and the couple he was talking about, “Oh, you know damn well who that” he said with a jab of his chin, “tis. All you vampires know each other. Especially those of the same Order.”

  The dumbstruck look on Benny’s face was priceless and Robert chuckled heartily before continuing, “You vampires are’n arrogant bunch. Just because you’re stronger an’ faster than us Naturals, you automatically assume you’re smarter too. Well, I served a vampire for over thirty-five years, do ya honestly think I would’na know one when see or smell one.”

  Benny’s mouth dropped open and he shook his head numbly. He was stunned. Speechless. The last year, the whole charade, had been for naught! Forced to accept a position that was far beneath his considerable surgical skills. The necessity of a daytime work shift and life schedule. Constantly slathering himself with that cursed tanning cream that stained everything it came into contact with– and dousing himself with cologne. And worst of all, forcing food down his gullet whenever in Emily’s presence. All to appear Natural. All to gain her trust and friendship. All had been for nothing! The jig was up! he thought angrily.

  Yanking his shades off, he winced painfully against the sun, “Bloody, damn! Does Emily know as well,” he asked, slipping into his natural British accent.

  With another chuckle, Robert shook his head and said, “No. I don’t think she suspects a thing, but you do know who that tis over there, don’t cha?”

  Benny shrugged and with a grim smile, admitted, “Yes, of course. That is Develyn Blackwell, David’s twin brother.”

  Robert nodded absently. “And do you know why he’s come here, to Dixon?”

  Again Benny shrugged and smiled uncomfortably. “Well, he has said–”

  Robert’s arms dropped and he straightened defensively. His eyes darted to Develyn and back to Benny’s face. “So, you two have spoken? Just when would that’a been?” he demanded in an increasingly Irish tone.

  Benny dropped his eyes to his shoes and when he met Robert’s reddening face again, he confessed. “Yes, but only briefly. Yesterday, before the picnic.”

  The thought that Develyn had jumped poor Emily, frightening her half to her grave, had enraged him. Spitting a curse, Robert jabbed his finger at Benny. “So you knew he would be lyin’ in wait for her and would drag her off into the woods, like the damned animal he is, and Mark her?”

  Benny flinched at Robert’s cruel words. If they weren’t true, if he hadn’t entertained that very thought himself, he would have taken offense, but instead Benny merely nodded morosely. He put his shades back on and slipped his hands into his pockets. “I suspected Develyn might, to reconnect with her, but even so, I could not have intervened. Surely you understand this; having served a vampire for so long.”

  Shaking his head disgustedly, Robert snorted like an angry bull. Although he understood why Develyn had done it, he was angry that he hadn’t gone about it in a more civilized manner. It could have been done. Emily deserved better. And he also understood why Benny could not have stopped it. He knew exactly what happened to any vampire who dared to interfere between a Marked Natural and its protecting vampire.

  They we’re killed. Immediately. Without a second thought or given a second chance. First, both hands were lopped off and they were beheaded before the final blow, a blade to the heart, was delivered by the protecting vampire. It was a horrible way to die, vampire or not, and
Robert shivered at the thought.

  “Just how, exactly, did ya come to know him? And how well do ya know him now,” he demanded gently.

  Benny knew the story of Robert and Laura Ann and so he understood the old man’s hate for Develyn, but he didn’t have time to entertain any more of his questions. He could hear Emily and Develyn’s exchange heating up and he feared for her safety. “It’s rather a long story. One, I will gladly share at another time, but for now, please excuse me.”

  As he turned to go, Robert reached out and grabbed his arm, not surprised he felt the ice cold through his coat. “What in God’s name are ya doin?”

  “I’m going over there. Emily needs me.”

  Robert snorted with disbelief. “Jesus, Joseph and Mary! And do what, exactly? Dinna ya just say you know you canna interfere.”

  “Yes, but–”

  “But nuthin’. Don’t go over there. ”

  Benny could hear Develyn as he threatened her and his every muscle in his body tightened instinctively. He yanked his arm free and turned to go.

  Robert liked Benny, he reminded him a lot of David and he didn’t want to see him get hurt, much less killed, and he reached out and grabbed his arm again, gently saying, “Don’t, Benny. Now, isn’t the time to act.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Stormy Weather, Stormier Thoughts

  **************

  Benny

  Benny watched as the lightning flashed, momentarily illuminating the cloudy night sky. Following shortly, a loud rumble of thunder rattled the tall windows before him. Reaching one arm up, he leaned his forearm against the cold plane of glass and dropped his chin. He watched the rain steadily pelt the water below as his mind replayed the events of the last twenty four hours.