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Seven Years Ago
day 324 since capture
“Do you ever think about running away?”
The question caused Devon’s shoulders to tense. He lifted his eyes to Shiloh, who was perched at the window seat, facing away from him so she could take in the view of the sunset. Her eyebrows were scrunched together, her teeth absent-mindedly gnawing at her lip.
In the safety of her and Drake’s bedroom, Devon was keeping her company while his brother was off meeting with Lord Henry.
Not that it was much of a chore. Hanging out with Shiloh was always a fun diversion, and Devon genuinely liked her as a person.
So far, they’d been passing the time with some card games and silly rounds of questions that made her laugh. But as the sun began to dip low in the sky, Shiloh had expressed wanting to see the sunset. They so rarely got such a view from the desert outside Drake’s estate. Plus, this was the first night that she wasn’t invited to whatever social activity Lord Henry had planned.
It seemed harmless on the surface, but Devon hadn’t expected her to turn so brooding just from watching the sky turn darker. If Drake came back to find his beloved terrified to the point of contemplating running away, he’d be beside himself with worry.
But Shiloh didn’t look afraid; just deep in thought.
Devon forced himself to relax. “You mean run away from home?”
“From the estate,” she replied, as if there was a difference. “You and Drake probably had good reasons for volunteering to this life, but I’m sure you didn’t expect everything that’s happened.”
He let out a little scoff. Understatement of the century.
“There must be a part of you that regrets going there in the first place,” she went on, finally turning to him. “Right?”
“To be honest,” Devon replied, choosing his words carefully, “I do sometimes wonder what our life would look like if Drake and I hadn’t left the house we grew up in. But it’s never with regret. We have each other, at least. That was never a guarantee before, but now, he’s finally in a position where he can protect us. I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”
Shiloh mulled his words over, nodding. “I can understand that. Sometimes,” she hesitated, averting her gaze, “I feel like I’m losing my mind. It’s hard to stay sane in this world. But being with Drake, it’s like... an anchor. He keeps me steady.”
Devon didn’t need to turn her initial question around onto her.
“I’d never leave him, but... I do imagine us going on the run together,” she said, confirming his thoughts. “Starting a new life somewhere far away from all the supernatural drama. You’re there, too, obviously,” she added with a tiny side-smile.
He smiled back and decided to humor her, just for a bit. “The three of us, on the run? What would we do to pass the time?”
She shrugged. “Mostly just live a calm life. With Drake’s powers, we wouldn’t need to work for food or housing or whatever, but... I’d find something fulfilling to do. So could you, if you wanted to.”
That sound amazing. He had to admit, the idea of living a quiet life appealed to him more than it probably should. It was similar to how he’d grown up, after all. He loved the serenity of an isolated lifestyle.
Drake wouldn’t agree; he was far too ambitious to live in seclusion. But Devon didn’t have the heart to burst Shiloh’s bubble.
“Maybe someday,” he said instead.
Neither of them spoke for a moment. The silence was only broken by the sound of Shiloh’s stomach grumbling, which made them share a surprised look and burst out laughing.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I could eat,” Devon joked. “Why don’t we go talk to the kitchen staff?”
“I’m okay. You go if you want to.”
Devon’s first instinct was to protest that she had to be famished, given the sounds that just came out of her stomach. But then he noticed the mirth slipping off her face as she glanced out the window, where the last remnants of daylight had already disappeared.
She was too scared to leave the room.
He didn’t want to leave her alone, either, but they were both hungry. And Drake wouldn’t be happy to know she went to bed without dinner.
“I’ll go see what they have,” he suggested instead.
Shiloh gave him a worried look but didn’t protest. Unlike her, he wasn’t afraid to wander around the manor. He’d be fine with a couple of escorts.
“I won’t be long,” he promised. “Why don’t you draw yourself a hot bath or something in the meantime? That tub you got there is enormous. Plus, I’m pretty sure I saw some scented soap bars and bath bombs.”
That made her smile. “Yeah, I think I’ll do that. Thanks, Dev.”
For bodyguards, he chose Brandon, the head of the werewolf faction back at the estate, Sanders, Drake’s strongest non-vampire fighter, and one of the vampires that just started their shift—the youngest one, still in his late-twenties, whose name Devon didn’t know.
Before they left, he instructed the remaining werewolves to stay at their post alongside the vampires until he came back, leaving Shiloh with five guards total. Hopefully, that was enough to ease her mind a little.
Despite knowing he was safe, Devon was alert and on guard the whole time. It wasn’t too hard to find the kitchen, though they did make a wrong turn once and had to backtrack. He would have felt much calmer exploring the grounds with just Walter. The head vampire never wavered in his confidence, and he exuded an air of calm but firm authority, both of which had earned him the respect of every supernatural that came across him, vamphyrs included. Sadly, he’d been needed to lead the vampires in Drake’s absence, so he had stayed behind to coordinate with Adam on the day-to-day running of the estate.
Devon shook off his paranoia, forcing himself to appear indifferent as they approached the kitchen.
“Can we have two plates of whatever’s ready?” he asked the human cook.
Dinner acquired, Devon and his escorts went back the way they came, but they ended up taking the same wrong turn once again, stopping at a long hallway lined with doors.
“Sorry, Sir,” said the vampire, ashamed since he was the one who’d been guiding them along. “I got distracted by the scent.”
Devon frowned and was about to ask what he meant, but Sanders spoke up before he could. “Get it together, this isn’t about you right now.”
“I’m sorry, I’m hungry!” the vampire protested, before turning to Sanders like he was just now realizing something. “Hey, you don’t get to order me around, mutt.”
Sanders grit his teeth, and only Brandon’s hand on his arm kept him from throwing out whatever retort he was formulating in his mind.
“Sanders meant no offense, though he should have watched his tone,” Brandon said diplomatically. “He just didn’t want to upset Master Drake by—”
The rest of his sentence was cut off when the door at the end of the hall abruptly opened up, and all three men pushed themselves in front of Devon.
He was tall enough to still see over their shoulders, and he watched as a vampire stepped out of what was clearly a feeding room. She didn’t seem to care that they were there and threw a haughty, almost bored look in their direction, barely acknowledging them.
But Devon wasn’t focused on her face for too long, his gaze drawn to her hands like a magnet. An easy feat, considering her nails were practically glowing in the dimly-lit hallway. His gasp elicited a tiny, self-satisfied grin out of her as she passed in front of them, though she still wouldn’t look at Devon directly.
He waited until he was sure she was out of earshot before turning to his guards with an order. “I need to speak to my brother. Right now.”
Their dumbstruck expressions told him they recognized her, too, and they hastened to take him back to Drake’s guest quarters. He didn’t want to go to Shiloh in this state, so he sat in the study—or, more accurately, paced around.
Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long because Drake soon arrived, looking just as frantic, if not more so. It momentarily distracted Devon as he remembered the real reason why they came on this trip in the first place.
For his part, Drake seemed surprised to find Devon waiting for him. “Dev?”
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “What did you find out?”
“Never mind that now,” the vamphyr ordered as he moved closer to his brother. “Tell me why you’re here.”
His tone and demeanor did not invite arguments, but Devon gulped and pressed on anyway. “You first.”
Drake sighed and averted his gaze, unable to look him in the eye as he said, “I know who ordered the hit on Dad, and why.”
The look on his face almost made Devon drop the whole thing. Drake’s fear was palpable, worse than anything they’d ever shared, save for the day he’d confessed to being Benjamin’s successor. It terrified Devon to his core, planting horrible suspicions in his mind.
But he refused to let the matter go; he couldn’t, not after how far they’d come. “It was him, wasn’t it? Lord Henry?”
Drake nodded.
“Why?”
“Dev—”
“Why?”
He grimaced, looking like it physically hurt him to answer. “Because he wanted us. You and me. And Dad took us and ran before he could have us. Now you tell me; why do you look like you just saw a ghost?”
Devon gulped, too shocked to process what Drake had just revealed. “Beatrice,” he whispered, his voice shaking as he spoke. “She defected to Lord Henry’s side.”
