Secrets of the Guardian (Waldgrave Book 3) (2 page)

I’m sorry, Miss, I don’t think there’s anything—

“No!” She screamed. “No! He’s still alive! You can save him!”

She turned back to Devin, frantic because his eyes were still closed, and reached a hand forward. She peeled his eyelid back, and then looked back up at Doctor Evans.

“It’s not his time! It’s not his time…” She tried to steady her voice. “You have to try.”

Doctor Evans met her gaze. For Lena, the world had stopped.

He turned his head to the side and gave a slight nod; the doctor and his assistants walked over to Devin’s unmoving form as Lena shuffled back to give them room. She brought a hand to her mouth as they started treating Devin’s wounds and then flipped him over. There weren’t any bullet holes coming out through his stomach, which meant the bullets had lodged inside; she wasn’t sure if that was better or worse. The entire front of his shirt was soaked with blood, including a piece of paper that had been pinned to chest, and the mess of blood soaked clothes, hands, grass, and the unstoppable oozing from Devin’s back, forced her to close her eyes and turn away.

He couldn’t be dead. The eyes never lied…and there hadn’t been any trace of death in them, unless he had died in the split second that she had looked away. She opened her eyes and stared out across the lawn. Could he have died that fast? Did fate turn on a second’s notice?

In the last light of the setting sun, the armed Council Representatives were coming back over the hill, treading lightly through the untrimmed grass of Waldgrave’s lawn. Some of them looked determined and angry, and some of them just looked worried. Rollin must have gotten away. But as their eyes settled on Lena and the scene unfolding behind her, she was finding it hard to face them. The intention had been to stay at the house, guarding the fortress, and they had followed her out into the unknown. Once again, her impulsive behavior had risked lives. Rollin had run away after delivering his message, but if he had chosen to stay, things would have been much bloodier.

Lena spun back around just as the assistants lifted Devin and started carrying him back towards Waldgrave; Doctor Evans was running ahead of them, and trying to get his overcoat off, which was a good sign that Devin was still alive. He was going into surgery.

As she watched them run towards the house, Devin’s body weaving uncertainly as the four men tried to carry him evenly, time seemed to stand still. A light breeze ruffled the sunset-tinted grass. A pair of hands landed on her shoulders, and she heard Howard’s voice, whispering, close to her ear.

“It’s okay. Just walk. It’s okay.”

He gently pushed her and she felt her knees bend beneath her. The walk back to the house was instantaneous, and then she was sitting in a room with Mrs. Ralston again. It was the kitchen. Rosaleen was holding a bloody kitchen rag and wiping Lena’s hands with it. She looked down and realized that her clothes and hands were splattered with red.

Her attention suddenly snapped back to Mrs. Ralston. “I need to see Devin.”

Mrs. Ralston didn’t look up. “Later. He’s in the doctor’s care now.”
   

And she continued to wipe the blood off of Lena. Then she walked her upstairs, forced her into taking a shower and then into pajamas. The two sat on the edge of the bed, Mrs. Ralston brushing out Lena’s wet hair as she gazed out the dark window. Rollin was still out there somewhere.

“I still need to see Devin.” Lena insisted. “And you don’t have to do this every time someone gets shot.”

Mrs. Ralston set down her brush, ignoring Lena’s snide remark. “I’d rather you didn’t see him yet. I’ll check in on him if you like, and let you know, but as I understand it, he’s going to be in surgery until tomorrow. You should get some sleep.”

Lena sighed. “I’m not going to sleep, and I don’t care what you say about it.”

She almost cringed when she heard the words come out of her mouth; they sounded so harsh. Here was Rosaleen, trying to make everything better for her in the only way she knew how, and all Lena could think about was Devin and whether or not he was okay. She might have been more comforted, or at least she might have acted it for Mrs. Ralston’s sake, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was Devin and the fact that somewhere close by he was suffering on her behalf. Possibly dying on her behalf. She heard Mrs. Ralston heave a sigh and felt her move; Lena thought she was going to get up and leave.

But Mrs. Ralston only turned her gently around to face her and smiled. She spoke very softly. “That makes me glad. It’s healthy for you to care. You scared me earlier. You didn’t even cry this time…it’s not natural to see what you saw and not feel anything.”

Lena looked at her bare feet, just beyond the hemmed bottoms of her plaid pajama pants. She had felt…and then she had shut off. Everything from reaching Devin’s body on was a blur, like she had resorted to auto-piloting. Maybe it wasn’t healthy, but she didn’t envy any second of what she had missed. She looked back up at Mrs. Ralston. “He saved my life. He helped me get away, and this is where it got him. I really need to see him.”

“In the morning.” Mrs. Ralston nodded. Then, seeking to change the subject, she turned and looked over her shoulder at the books Lena had left scattered on the bed. “What’s all of this?”

Lena cast her eyes at Edward Daray’s journals. The problem of her heritage had ever so briefly managed to slip from her mind. She realized that she wasn’t even sure where Griffin was, or what he had done with his day since leaving her in the basement. “It’s just some old stuff I found in a corner. It’s very interesting, actually…”

Rosaleen smiled, sending wrinkles running into the corners of her eyes. “Your grandfather was just like that. The two of you would have made quite the pair. He was always looking for an adventure.”

“Oh.” Lena frowned. She could still see the terror in Ben’s eyes as Pyrallis shot him down. “Yes, I suppose he was.”

Mrs. Ralston reached toward the nearest of the diaries and flipped it open. When the pages appeared blank before her eyes, she looked up at Lena. “What’s this one about?”

“Um…” Lena peered over her shoulder. On one page was the end of a manifesto, and the other was a brief entry concerning a Council meeting that Edward had attended; it recorded sections of the deposition of his son, Pyrallis Daray. “Well, that’s the thing. I’m not quite sure yet.”

Mrs. Ralston sighed as she smiled at Lena. “And let me guess—you need to go somewhere to find out what the rest of this is about?”

Lena sat back. She felt her jaw physically drop. “Well, I’m not sure yet, but yes, probably, yes. How did you…?”

“Hmm.” Mrs. Ralston stood up. “Exactly like your grandfather. Always on the go, always getting into trouble.”

She walked to the door and turned to face Lena one last time. “Now, I don’t want you leaving this room until tomorrow morning. If you need anything, give me a shout. I’ll watch Devin for you.”

And then Lena was alone, staring at the books on her bed.

Lena abided by Mrs. Ralston’s rules and stayed in her room until five the next morning, when she crept away and walked around until she found the door with one of Doctor Evan’s assistants stationed in front of it. He was a younger man, probably in his mid-twenties with dark hair, dressed in generic looking scrubs, drinking a cup of coffee, sitting in a chair just next to the bedroom door.

Lena chimed in as she approached. “Hey.”

The young man, who had up to this point been staring at a spot on the wall across the way, straightened up and set his coffee down on the floor as he turned to look at her. “Hello, can I help you?”

Lena nodded toward the door. “How is he?”

The young man looked at her hesitantly. “Well…well I’m not sure if…”

Lena looked at the ground. She didn’t like what she was about to do, but she didn’t want to leave without knowing if Devin was going to be okay. She looked the man in the eye. “I pay your boss. Literally, out of my pocket and into his, the way it’s been for several generations. So tell me what’s going on in there, or—“

“No. That’s not what I mean.” He stood up to face her properly. “There’s a lot of damage, and everything that can be done is being done. He’s in a lot of pain, which we’re alleviating as much as possible, but you have to understand that he’s lost a kidney and parts of his liver. He’s going to
lose several sections out of his small intestine, which is where most of the complications came in. All of the organs that were hit either contained toxins that they filtered from the blood, or digestive enzymes, which are now spreading throughout his body as we try to clean them out.”

He paused. Lena swallowed and tried not to look too worried, even though she felt it. She felt terrible; all of this was her fault. The young assistant continued.

“Now, he’s lucky as far as human-borns go, because he appears to be resistant to infection, but you need to understand that what’s happening to him now is just as dangerous, if not more so, because his body is being attack by its own toxins and digestive processes.”

He watched Lena. She tried to remain calm. “So, what are you trying to say? What are his chances?”

“They’re not good.” He sighed, looked at Lena, and then away. “And frankly, miss, the only reason we’re trying is because you’re demanding it. His life isn’t going to be pleasant, even after we get him sewn back together. Did it ever occur to you that maybe it was just his time?”

Lena stared at the young man until he looked back up at her; there was a sort of arrogance about his stony brown eyes that she had only ever attributed to doctors. They all had God complexes, deciding who lived and who died, and this one seemed more than a little put out that the decision to end it, for once, was not in his hands. Lena spoke with determination. “No. It didn’t. Because it’s not his time. And I want to be informed the second he’s allowed visitors.”

The man nodded and she turned and left. Lena went back to her room, and Mrs. Ralston brought her breakfast and sat with her. She mentioned that she hadn’t seen Griffin at any meals since breakfast the day before, and that some of the other Representatives were becoming anxious about the situation; given the precarious standing of the Daray household, many of them were worried that he was sick—some of them, no doubt, were anxiously hopeful that it would be lethal. She asked Lena if she knew anything about it. Lena lied and said she didn’t, and told Mrs. Ralston that she would find him and talk to him, which she promptly did after her trays were taken away.

She walked up to the fourth floor and knocked on his door. He didn’t answer.

Griffin!

She knocked again, harder.

Griffin, come on, you can’t stay in there forever!

Lena stood in front of the door for several more moments, but he never came. She knocked a third time, but still nothing. She tried the door handle, but it was locked, so she sat down next to the wall.

Look, please open the door, okay? I don’t know what happened way back when, and it makes no sense that you’re doing this. I mean, so what? So what, Griffin? So he lied to you about some stuff. My dad lied to me about stuff, but he had his reasons. I mean, I’m not saying that my grandfather had reasons, because he was just a bastard sometimes, but I found some stuff that I want you to look at. I think we should look into this, because I’m beginning to think that something was going on. And maybe it was all a lie, and maybe it was all true, but there’s only one way we’re going to find out, and that’s to go looking for the answers.

Lena paused. She couldn’t hear any activity behind the door. She sighed, and tried a different tactic.

People are starting to worry about you, Griffin. And we don’t need them worrying now, when we’re dealing with this whole situation with Rollin. I mean, do your drama on your own time, okay? We don’t need people worrying about the Daray house in addition to the challenge to the authority of the Council. You’re being such a selfish brat.

Nothing.

Oh, by the way, I brought Devin into Waldgrave and he’s staying because I say so.

Nothing. Lena’s brow crinkled; something wasn’t right.

Griffin? Are you even there?

Lena pressed her ear to the door, but there wasn’t anything to hear. In his normal state, he never would have allowed her to speak to him in that fashion—anything that resembled a flat order or demand was usually enough to set him off. Calling him a brat should have created some sort of angry response, and she didn’t care how sulky he was, news that Devin had come into Waldgrave should have instigated a small war…spending so much time and effort to save the life of a human-born was ridiculous. Besides, Griffin hated Devin. He hated the very thought of him, because he felt outdone by him; Devin was the one thing that never failed to goad him to a response. He must have been
 
really
 depressed to not even bother to answer…

Panic suddenly flooded through her veins.
 
Griffin?! Open the door now!

She stood up and pounded on the door. She twisted the door handle back and forth, and then tried to shoulder the door in, but quickly realized that she was far too short and light to have any
effect on it. She braced herself in the small inlet of the door frame and braced her foot on the door handle. She kicked it hard several times, until it loosened and finally fell free. With the lock broken, she forced the door open.