What the Heart Takes (34 page)

The bedroom door slammed against the doorstop when her father kicked it open and backed into the room. He took care bringing Layne through the doorway, waiting for Dylan to do the same. Once inside, they quickened their steps toward the bed. Grunts filled the air as they struggled to lay him on the full-sized mattress. She wished it were Layne grunting instead. It would mean he’d regained consciousness. It would mean he was pulling through.

She focused on his energy, the way it flickered like an ember that would soon extinguish. There had to be a way to stoke it, and him, back to life. If not, he wouldn’t make it much longer. They needed the Healer her father mentioned. If they waited, it would be too late.

As her father and Dylan stepped away from the bed, her mother and Delia replaced their spots. They worked their hands over Layne, checking his pulse, his temperature, even his pupils, before moving toward his chest. The second their hands neared the arrow, she rushed to the bed, pushing her mother out of the way.

“Don’t touch him!”

She used her body like a shield, protecting him from their probing hands. He’d been through enough tonight. She refused to let them cause him more pain.

“We need to assess the damage, Heaven.”

She met her mother’s weary gaze, fighting against her quivering lips to form words. “You’re going to hurt him. Can’t you see he’s in pain?” She gazed down at him. Her hand lingered near the arrow. There was an urge to grip it and rip it from his chest. His body couldn’t begin to heal as long as it remained inside him. “He’s in so much pain, Mom.”

Tears spilled from her eyes, forming a wet but warm trail down her cheeks. She didn’t understand why this was happening. How could she lose him now, when she needed him most? He was created to protect her. She wasn’t out of danger yet. Far from it. If Layne died…

Another round of sobs shook her chest. She buried her face against his neck, allowing the hurt to consume her. “Please, wake up,” she whispered. “You can’t do this to me, Layne. I need you.”

All eyes were on her. She didn’t need to look up to know they were. The energy inside the room quaked with fear, sympathy, even guilt. She sensed the emotions in their thoughts, as well. They knew that if Layne died, her chance of survival was slim. She knew it too, but it angered her to know that it was their first concern.

Layne wasn’t some emotionless robot created to protect her, nor could he be easily replaced. He was a man who lived and breathed as much as they did. He was a passionate man who cared more than anyone knew, a man who hurt when his heart was broken.

More than anything, he was her friend. It didn’t matter that he’d tried to end their friendship. She knew deep down he cared. He cared a lot, maybe too much, if such a thing existed. The crazy part was the feeling was mutual. He’d found his way into her heart and made a permanent impression, one that went so deep it would rip her apart if she lost him.

She didn’t want to care this much about him. She didn’t have the right when she belonged to someone else. Dylan would always have her heart, but her heart would always have a part of Layne within it. Denying it wouldn’t change the facts, but she’d do her best to keep the feelings to herself.

“Sweetheart,” Delia cooed as she sat on the edge of the bed. “If you don’t let us examine him, it could cause more damage. We need to get the arrow out of his chest.”

“How,” she cried against his neck. “How can you get it out without taking him to a doctor?”

Pulling away from Layne, she narrowed her eyes on her mother-in-law. The urge to scream and yell grew harder to resist. It would be easy to lash out at Delia, but it wasn’t her fault. She knew that, which is why she choked down her anger instead.

“If you try to remove it, you’ll rip out his heart…as if Faith and I haven’t done that enough.”

“Your father wouldn’t have brought him here if we couldn’t help him. Doctors can’t, Heaven.” Delia pointed to the arrow. “This arrow is similar to one you’d use to kill an animal. It’s meant to cause damage, lots of damage.” She placed her palm flush to Layne’s forehead, like she was checking his temperature, but she continued her explanation. “Unlike normal arrows, the metal is very poisonous because it’s forged through magnokinesis, or metal bending. The bender was a Hunter. They’re an elite group of assassins for The Fallen. I’m guessing that you didn’t find a bow, did you?”

“No, but I thought maybe Layne burned it when he burned the man.” Her eyes moved across the room, landing on her father. “Did you tell them about the flames Layne created?”

“He told us, Heaven,” Delia chimed in before he could answer, “but you wouldn’t have found a bow either way. A magnokinetic creates these. It’s their ability. They can create different arrowheads too. If he used a mechanical broadhead, it’s a miracle Layne isn’t dead.”

The tone of her voice sent a new wave of fear cascading through Heaven. She hesitated on asking anything else, but she had to know what Delia meant. “Why do you say that?”

“Because the blades on the tip deploy as soon as it hits its target.” Delia used her hands to demonstrate her answer. She worked her fingers together and then suddenly opened them as wide as she could. “They project outward and cause more damage.”

“How are we going to get it out?”

Her father gained Delia’s attention. She never said a word, but he nodded at her and stepped into the hall. He wasn’t gone but ten seconds when he came walking back inside, and he wasn’t alone. A man walked in behind him. He looked to be her father’s age, and just as tall, with short sandy hair. Gray-blue eyes peered around the room through gold-rimmed glasses. As he made his way toward the bed, she noticed the way Dylan’s brows knitted.

“Uncle Spencer?” Dylan asked. “What…what are you doing here?”

It was his mother who spoke up as she stood from the bed the second Spencer entered. “He’s here to help your friend, Dylan, but he’s also here for me.”

Dylan’s face pinched tighter. Waves of confusion crashed within his energy as he shook his head. “I’m not following you.”

Delia averted her eyes, looking at Spencer instead. He gave her a nod and released a sigh. “You need to tell him.”

“Tell me what?”

The gruffness in Dylan’s voice made his mother flinch. She gazed across the bed to the spot where he stood not far from the edge. “Spencer is my Keeper.”

It took a moment, but realization flashed through Dylan’s eyes. He shot a quick glance in Spencer’s direction, and then his mother’s. “I never knew you had a Keeper. Guess this explains why you’ve always been
good friends
with our neighbor. I can’t believe you hid this from me. Why?”

“The same reason I hid everything else.” Weariness wavered in her voice and her dark green eyes. “I did it to protect you. I’d planned to tell you once you found out about your heritage. After all the chaos your father caused, I never got the chance. I’m sorry.”

Dylan studied Spencer, shaking his head. “So how is he going to help Layne?”

“Spencer is a metal bender too. He can liquefy the metal and draw it out of Layne’s body. It will prevent his heart from suffering more damage. He’ll be able to hold on until the Healer gets here.”

“So what are you waiting for?” Heaven blurted. “Get it out of him already.”

“I don’t think you should be in here for this, Heaven,” her mother piped in. “It’s a little graphic.”

“I’m
not
leaving.”

“Heaven, please,” Dylan begged as he stepped closer to the bed. His knees bumped the mattress, drawing her attention to him. “It’s not going to do you or the baby any good to sit here. If you get too upset—”

“You think making me leave this room will keep me calm?”

“Sweetie,” her mom cooed, “we want you and the baby to be safe.”

“And I want to know my Keeper will survive this. I have to be with him.” They didn’t get it. None of them. If she couldn’t be by Layne’s side, watching over him, she’d drive herself crazy with worry. How could that be good for the baby?

“Please, Heaven,” Dylan begged as her mother tugged her from the bed.

“Stop it.”

She hissed the words, jerking her arm back, but her mom held on tighter. “You’re not thinking clearly.”

Delia walked over to assist. She slid past Dylan, gripping Heaven’s other arm. “Your connection with Layne is clouding your judgment.”

“No. It’s. Not.” Eyeing her mother-in-law, she dug her heels into the carpet, doing her best to prevent them from escorting her from the room.

“Come on, Heaven,” her mother huffed, using both her hands to pull on Heaven’s arm. “Fighting us isn’t helping your baby.”

“Then leave me alone. Please, just leave me alone.” The fire fueling her fury faded, leaving her with the strength of a rag doll. Another round of tears fell down her cheeks. They’d manage to get her halfway to the door when she grabbed her chest and bent forward.

“Heaven—”

Panic filled her mother’s voice when they came to a stop. The moment she tucked her finger under Heaven’s chin and lifted, Heaven seized the opportunity to plead her case.

“Please, Mom,” she begged. Another stream of tears descended down her cheeks.
“Please
.”

Her mother started to argue, but a loud commotion behind them had her looking toward the bed. She turned to see what had her mother’s eyes widening, but the moment she saw what caused the commotion, her breath caught.

“He’s convulsing.” Her father shouted the words as he and Spencer bent over Layne.

Her mother released her arm and ran back to the bed. “His aura’s fading, Spencer. Just do it. We’re losing him.”

“
No,
” Heaven shouted, struggling to get back to the bed. She’d nearly made it to the corner before Delia pulled her back.

“There’s nothing you can do, Heaven.”

“You’re wrong,” she screamed. “He needs me.”

“Dylan,” his mother called as she struggled to keep Heaven from going to the bed.

Her chest heaved harder when he walked their way. She could tell by the way he pressed his lips in a tight line that he didn’t want to force her to do anything. Yet he worried about their child as much as her.

“Don’t you dare,” she seethed once he pulled her to him. No matter how much she wiggled her body, she couldn’t escape.

“Please, calm down. I don’t want to do this to you, but I have to think about the baby. This isn’t good for either of you.”

“Neither is Layne’s death.”

She watched her parents fighting to keep Layne’s body from flopping. Spencer stood just behind her father, stretching his arm toward Layne’s chest as if he were reaching for him. The arrow inside shimmied back and forth. Blood spurted around the wound leaving crimson splatters across Layne’s shirt, as well as the white sheets. Each droplet that hit made her stomach lurch. Pain seized her body. It came with such force that she swore someone was ripping the arrow from her chest like they were from Layne’s.

“You’re killing him!” She meant to shout the words, but her voice failed to form the harshness she intended. It sounded more like a squeak than anything and did little to deter them.

A moment later, the visible part of the arrow shot from Layne’s chest. It bounced off his arm, falling to the floor a second later. Her mother grabbed a wad of gauze from a first aid kit she’d brought with her. She pressed it and her hand against his chest.

The arrow was out. Layne should have been doing better, but he wasn’t. His body continued to twitch underneath her parents’ grasps.

“Did you get it?” Her father asked, staring up at Spencer, who opened his hand. An orb of silver hovered above his palm as he nodded. “Then why is he still convulsing?”

“You know the answer to that, though I doubt you truly understand what it means.” Spencer’s voice was steady and sure. He carried the orb over to the trashcan and flipped his hand over, allowing it to drop inside. After he swiped his hand over his pant leg, he turned back to look at Layne once more. Then his eyes found Heaven’s. “He may be unconscious, but his soul isn’t. He senses his Seeker’s presence. What you said is true, Heaven. He needs you.” He turned his slate-colored eyes toward Dylan’s mother and raised a brow. “Why would you force her to leave? You know better, Delia, or have you forgotten about this?”

He raised his shirt midway, showing off well-sustained abs and a three-inch scar just below his ribcage. Layne’s chest came back into view as Heaven wondered what type of scar he would have.

“Would one of you please explain what’s going on?” she asked.

Delia eased her grip on Heaven’s arm. “The night that Nate and I split up, Spencer was there. He was holding Dylan, keeping him away from Nate, who was using his abilities to destroy the house. When Nate saw that I wasn’t scared, he threatened to kill me.”

A sudden shift in Spencer’s stance had Delia pausing. The anger he felt for Nate rushed from his soul, slicing through Heaven’s thoughts. He hated her father-in-law, would rather see him dead than allow him to hurt Delia or Dylan. She doubted he would hesitate on killing him now, if the need arose.

Once his energy settled, Delia refocused on her story. “I knew Nate wouldn’t hurt me because we’re soulmates. It would have caused him pain too, but Spencer didn’t care. He handed Dylan to me then punched Nate. There was a struggle and Nate was losing, so he used his kinesis to pull a knife from the kitchen. He stabbed Spencer with it.”

Heaven’s eyes fluttered shut. She couldn’t believe Delia had experienced a situation similar to the one she faced with Layne. “What happened?”

“I was able to remove the knife, but he was losing a lot of blood. I knew he needed help, so I called a friend who was a Healer. She came over to assist. For two days, I watched him fading in and out. I didn’t know if I’d lose him. My friend stayed to help with Dylan. She had a little boy the same age and—well, it’s a long story.”

“She had to be near me because she knew I needed her,” Spencer added, coming to a stop in front of them. “It’s the natural bond between a Seeker and Keeper. She’s my reason for living, just like you are Layne’s. The fact that you and he share an affinity makes his need all the greater.”