"Blood Seduction"

For the Nottingham brothers, it felt like the calm before the storm. Both Ian and Devian sensed, as the clone had put it: “the axe hanging over their heads.” After her special date with Ian, Sara woke on Thursday morning refreshed but still troubled. Dev had become a constant irritant at the edge of her thoughts. He dulled her mind, popping up like an unpleasant aftertaste when she least expected it. Ian had hoped that their night together would help her refocus, banishing the clone from his position in their life together as a constant, hovering specter. He should have known that his annoying twin would not be dismissed that easily. Ian brought her fresh coffee as she wandered around distractedly getting ready for work. He watched her with a worried frown wanting to strangle Devian for causing Sara such unhappiness. It was like the passion that had erupted between them had infected her with a low-grade infection that was slowly eating away at her immune system. Dev was there now, inside her – messing with her head, playing with her feelings – and she couldn’t shake him no matter how she tried.

When Sara stopped, sipping coffee and looking through Ian for the fourth or fifth time, he finally asked, “Are you alright?” She blinked and focused on him, coming back from wherever she had been. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said. It was a throwaway answer and they both knew it – meaningless. Ian wasn’t ready to let it go. “You seem distracted,” he pointed out. She shrugged. She couldn’t make sense of what she was feeling herself. How could she begin to try to explain it to him? “I’m just a little tired,” she replied, hoping that he would leave it alone. It was like Devian was there in the room with them. Ian found that he still didn’t want to just let it go. Sara had turned away from him. She was brushing her hair again. She had already done that twice. Ian knew that this wasn’t the right time but he couldn’t hold it in any longer. He sucked in a shaky breath and asked, “Do you have feelings for him, Sara?” She spun around to face him, eyes huge. “Who?” she asked. They both knew who he meant, of course. It had tripped out of her mouth automatically because she needed to gather thoughts that were whirling in a crazy muddle. His molded lips thinned out and he countered, “Am I supposed to answer that?” She dropped her eyes and mumbled, “No. I know who you mean.” It occurred to Ian that both of them were avoiding saying his name. Were they afraid that voicing it might actually conjure Devian up between them – make his presence a reality instead of the ghost that separated them?

Into the heavy silence, Ian said, “You didn’t answer me.” There was a harsh undertone to his voice that scared her. She turned to face him. He briefly felt regret for pushing the issue because Sara suddenly looked very fragile. She sighed loudly and he waited. “I don’t know how to answer you,” she whispered, “I don’t know how I feel. I’m very confused.” He shut his eyes, absorbing that in silence. Dev was right, he thought. The bastard clone was right all along. Sara did feel something for him. Ian opened his eyes to find her watching him carefully. He waged a short struggle to get his emotions back under control before he asked, “Do you still love me?” As if she had been shot from a bow, Sara crossed the distance separating them. She wrapped her arms tightly around him and pressed her face against the warm skin of his bare shoulder. His arms automatically folded around her, drawing her close. “Of course I still love you!” she cried, voice muffled against his skin. She heard the breath he had held being released and felt a tiny tremor shudder through him. Yet, his subdued response was, “Good.” She had to smile. In that way they were very different, she thought. Where Dev was flamboyant, Ian was reserved. She took a deep breath, thinking, “There he is in my head again. Go away!” She brought her mind back to the twin in her arms. “How could you even question that?” she asked, “I adore you. Nothing will change that. No one else could ever lessen my love for you.”

Ian reached down two long fingers to stroke Sara’s chin and lift up her face. Troubled green eyes gazed into troubled golden eyes. “So, then, I guess the problem becomes mine,” he whispered, “Right? If you do have feelings for Devian, I need to decide whether I can live with that. I need to come to terms with whether I can share your love with my brother.” Hearing it stated so objectively, threw her thoughts and feelings back into a tizzy again. Dropping her arms, she stepped back out of his embrace and said, “No, no. I’m not saying that – that I love him; that I want to be with him too. All I’m saying is that I’m really confused.” Ian shook his head. “You’re all caught up in the effect,” he observed, “Because you don’t want to examine what’s creating it.” Her face suddenly turned sulky and she moved to the closet to pull out a sweater. Back still turned, she barked, “Thanks so much, Mr. Cryptic Guy. Like I’m supposed to understand what that means. Next, you’ll tell me to ‘trust the Witchblade.’ Well, screw that! Look where that has gotten me.” Ian kept his mouth shut. She had a point. He cleared his throat, deciding that it might be an opportune time to change the subject. “If you need to reach me today,” he said, “I’ll be at Vorschlag. Just call Mr. Irons’ number. They’ll know where to find me. I’ll probably go right to the dojo from there. My last class is at 8:30 so I won’t get home until a little after 10:00.”

When she didn’t say anything, Ian added, “I don’t suppose you would like to meet me at the dojo to watch my classes. We could go out for dinner afterwards.” Sara turned, twisting the sweater nervously in her hands. “Can I take a rain check?” she asked, “I really do want to see your classes, maybe even join one, but tonight I think I just need to veg out. I could use some time alone to put things in perspective.” He nodded. He had expected her to say exactly that but had thought that he would make the offer anyway. Ian started to descend from the sleeping loft but Sara caught his arm. He turned back to face her. She fidgeted a moment, then said softly, “Ian, I’m sorry if I seem testy and out of sorts. I’m having a hard time getting my head around this dual lover thing. In spite of all the weird stuff that I’ve been forced to acknowledge since the Blade chose me, I’m a pretty conventional person at heart. And, then too, you and Devian are so much alike – especially when he keeps his mouth shut, which I grant you isn’t often…” She trailed off, suddenly at a loss again. Sara looked at him plaintively and wailed, “Please don’t be mad at me.” Whatever ambiguity or resistance he’d felt was immediately melted into mush by the look on her face. Ian gathered her back into his arms and she clung to him like he was the life preserver in her sea of woes. “Oh, Sara,” he whispered into her hair, “I’m not mad at you. I love you, you goof.” As he had intended, that made her laugh. She pulled back a little, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. “Well,” she observed, “I don’t know how you did it but you made me feel better. Call me a ‘goof’ again, though, and I’ll deck you.” He grinned and said, “You’ll try.”

The warm grin dropped away and Ian said, “You need to know that he’s not going to give up on this. He’ll try to corner you, get you to admit that you have feelings for him.” She studied his face. “You talked to him,” she said; a statement, not a question. Ian nodded. “And, unless you want to be joined to my hip,” he added, “I probably won’t be able to stop him. He’s a very determined little shit.” Sara’s mouth fell open in shock. There was a pause before she said, “You’re starting to like him, aren’t you.” Ian looked sheepish. He shrugged and replied, “We’re alike in so many ways. The more we’re together, the more I see myself in him – except that he’s bolder, brasher and, in some ways, much more innocent.” Sara’s eyes lit with understanding. “He makes you think of what you might have been without the master’s Iron hand, doesn’t he?” she asked. Ian’s smile was wry. “Something like that,” he responded. She shook her head in exasperation. “I’d say the ‘little shit’ has forced us both to do some unexpected introspection. The miserable clone is making us both reexamine our lives and our values,” she decided. She smiled and added, “I bet that would make him laugh.” Ian smiled back at her and nodded. “You’re right,” he agreed, “It would make him laugh like hell.”

The object of their discussion was back at the desk in the Observatory, watching tapes. Clad only in a red, silk robe he leaned back in the chair, long legs stretched out to rest, ankles crossed, on the desk. The shredder that sat on the floor beside the desk was chugging away. Dev was trying very hard to be selective. For most of the night and the following morning, he had watched as both Sara and Vicki went about the largely mundane activities of their daily lives. Ian he pretty much ignored. The clone had come to one unshakable conclusion. He loved women. He loved everything about them; the way they held a mug, brushed their hair, washed, slept, everything they did. He watched a tape, enjoying all the minutiae of his love’s existence, and then he shredded it. At least, he shredded most of them. Devian had his little cache of favorite tapes that he was unable to relinquish. They included the recording of Sara and Ian making love on the cabinet in the kitchen and the tape of him and Vicki when as “Ian” he had unplugged her drain. And, finally, there was his night with Sara. Since he had first found it and played it, Dev had watched them make love again and again, at least ten times. He had watched it until he was forced to touch himself to relieve the painful pressure of his throbbing erection as he softly moaned her name. He had watched it until he wanted to be with her again so badly that it took all of his self-control not to go to her right then, to beg her to touch him again.

And, as Dev had watched Ian and Sara live and love together; as he had watched Sara and Vicki gossip over coffee, he realized something else. He was lonely. He didn’t want to be alone any longer. He was sick of his own company. Except for the short time that he’d lived with Sara as Ian, Devian had been by himself. He wanted Sara as his lover. He wanted to become closer to his brother. He wanted friends. Even Devian wasn’t so naive as to think that all of these intricate relationships would fall effortlessly into place. He knew that Sara was still denying that she had any feelings for him. He knew that she might never accept him. He knew that his love for Sara had angered his brother and that Ian might not ever forgive him. He knew that his feelings for Sara would probably also alienate Vicki when she found out. She might not want him as a friend and he could not offer anything else; his heart belonged to Sara whether she wanted it or not. Dev sighed as he shredded another tape. As he had told Ian, he had no practical experience with any of this, so he could only follow his gut. The key was Sara. She was the Wielder; she was at the center of everything. Beyond that, he just needed her. He needed to be with her; he needed it desperately. It was all he could do to wait until tonight to go to her. Of its own volition, his hand reached out for the tape of them making love and with shaking fingers he put it back in the player. Eyes wide and glued to the monitor, he drew in a ragged breath and shivered. The tape started to run again and Devian watched her purr, “Hi, baby. How did it go?” As he began to tremble, he whispered, with that aching catch in his voice, “Sara.”

Sara needed a break. Jake was back in the office, full of war stories from his days in court. She was already tired of the sound of his voice. Danny had gleefully escaped to meet Lee for lunch. She had come downtown for an appointment with the obstetrician. That left Sara as a captive audience of one. She cleared her throat. It didn’t even slow him down. Time for more drastic action, she thought. She would go visit Vicki. She needed to try talking to her about Devian again. Sara didn’t want her friend to get in too deep, to invest too many feelings in the clone, before she found out that his interest in her was only platonic. She stood, picking a report up off her desk to use as a prop. It didn’t faze the rookie. He kept right on talking. “Jake,” she finally interrupted when he grabbed a breath, “I have to go see Vick. I’ll catch the rest of your story when I get back. Okay? Better yet, save it to tell Danny. He should be back any minute.” His eyes narrowed. “That’s an excuse. Right? I’m boring you. Right?” he asked, then waited for an answer. Sara cleared her throat again. “Not at all,” she lied, “It was fascinating.” He snorted. “You’re a bad liar, Pez,” he observed, “Go ahead and escape to the morgue. Tell Vicki to give me a call, will you? We’re supposed to get together Saturday night and she hasn’t called me back.”

Thinking that Jake might have a long wait for Vicki to call him now that Dev was in the picture, Sara headed toward the Precinct basement. She found Vicki Po sitting at the computer. The coroner was not reviewing autopsy reports, however, she was searching the web for the perfect Hungarian goulash recipe. Vicki was so focused that Sara stood behind her for a good two minutes before Vicki noticed that she had company. When she finally realized that the shadow on her monitor was Sara’s face and that her friend was standing behind her, Vicki gasped and swung around in her chair. “Whew,” she hissed, “Are you taking lurking classes or what?” Sara snorted, amused because she lived with the consummate lurker; maybe she had picked it up by osmosis. “Sorry,” she replied, “I thought you knew I was there and just couldn’t tear yourself away from the seductive spell of paprika.” Vicki pointed a delicate finger at her friend. “Scoff now,” she said, “But you’ll be swooning over my goulash tomorrow night.” Sara dropped into the empty chair at the connecting workstation. “Okay with me,” Sara responded, “I can always use a good swoon that’s purely food related.” Vicki’s lashes fluttered and she said, “Speaking of swooning, have you spoken to Dev? Did he say anything to Ian about me?” Sara winced, thinking about how to approach this topic. While she decided, she said, “I haven’t seen him. And, last night, Ian put together a special dinner for me. Believe me, we weren’t talking about Devian.”

Vicki smiled. “You’re a lucky woman,” she said. Sara frowned. “You may change that opinion, Vick,” she replied, “When you find out that I actually have too much of a good thing.” Vicki tilted her head and asked, “Am I supposed to know what that means? Are you talking in code?” Sara sighed. “Nah,” she said, “I guess I’m kind of dancing around this because it’s hard to talk about with you. I’m struggling here, Vick.” The coroner faced her friend, pulling all her attention away from the computer. It flitted through her mind that Sara looked tired, worn, and a bit sad. That was no good. Had she been so caught up in her own fantasies that she hadn’t noticed that Sara was having problems? What kind of friend was she? Determined to do better from now on, Vicki ordered, “Just spit it out, kiddo. We’ve been friends a long time. I’m hoping that there’s nothing that we can’t talk about with each other.” Sara sighed, looking doubtful. “I’m hoping that too,” she murmured, “But when men come into the picture sometimes the best intentions go right out the window.” Vicki’s expression hardened slightly. “Ah,” she thought, “Devian again.” Sara was going to warn her off Dev yet again. Sheesh. Now, Vicki sighed. Best to just let Sara give her more warnings, Vicki thought; then, she would, of course, do as she pleased anyway. If it helped Sara to badmouth Ian’s twin then, as a friend, Vicki could waste the time it took to listen. Vicki lifted her hands in a gesture of surrender. “Fire away,” she said.

“I’m afraid that you’re starting to have feelings for Dev, Vicki; maybe even hopes for a relationship,” Sara began, “If that’s the case, there’s something that you need to know before you invest any more in that fantasy.” She paused because it was hard to admit, hard to face. It was embarrassing. Vicki waited expectantly for the other shoe to drop. “Devian thinks that he’s in love with me,” she finally added. Vicki’s mouth dropped open. “You told me that you weren’t involved with both brothers,” she accused, “In fact, I believe then your exact words were, ‘what do you take me for’ – would you like me to answer that now?” Sara fidgeted, looking miserable. “No,” she said, “I wouldn’t. When I said that to you, I wasn’t involved with Dev yet and he hadn’t started this love crap with me either. Things changed.” Sara could see that Vicki was resisting the implications of what she was telling her. She didn’t want to accept it. “All you’re telling me is that he’ll be a challenge, Sara,” Vicki reasoned, “Okay. Dev thinks that he’s in love with you but you don’t return his feelings. You’re in love with his brother. So, I’ll just see if I can’t capture his attention and show him what requited love feels like. His love is unrequited, right? That is what you’re telling me.”

There was a long pause before Sara murmured, “It’s not that simple I’m afraid.” Vicki frowned. “Meaning?” she asked. Sara took a deep breath and admitted, “We made love.” Vicki’s mouth dropped open again. “You and Devian?” she asked, “You made love with Ian’s brother? What the hell were you thinking? Or, do I have it wrong again; maybe Ian knows all about it and it was three to a bed.” Sara glanced around them nervously and whispered, “Keep your voice down, Vick. If any of this gets out around here, I’d have to kill you. Why don’t we take this into the conference room so we have some walls around us to absorb the screaming?” Vicki’s mouth clamped down into a thin line but she got up and followed Sara into the empty conference room, shutting the door behind her. Sara sat in a chair at the long table. It was the same place where, a few days before, she had told Vicki about the clone for the first time. Vicki, too worked up to sit, was pacing. She stopped to point a finger at Sara. “I know you, Pez,” she said, “If you slept with him then you must have feelings for him too. You don’t just screw around for the hell of it. It’s not in your nature.” Sara sighed. “Again,” she said, sounding very tired, “It’s not that simple. There were other forces at work – on both of us.” Vicki laughed. It was a hard, brittle sound. “Oh, I see,” she scoffed, “The devil made you do it. Is that it? How convenient; you get to enjoy the sin and be granted absolution all in one neat package.” Sara struggled for a few moments as the silence between them lengthened. Then, she came to a decision.

“There’s nothing ‘neat’ about the Witchblade,” Sara said. Still inwardly raging, still pacing like a pent up beast, the allusion went right by Vicki. “The what?” she asked automatically. Sara released a long, breathy sigh. “The Witchblade,” she repeated. Vicki stopped, her back to Sara. Then, she turned around slowly to face her friend. Her dark eyes looked huge and suddenly luminous; they were fixed on Sara’s right wrist. “The bracelet,” Vicki whispered, “The fucking bracelet from the museum.” Sara nodded. “Sit down, Vick,” she said, “This is a long story. It probably isn’t the right time to do this, to dump all this on you. I know that you already had your suspicions. In any case, I’m just going to go with my gut because this is what it’s telling me to do.” Vicki Po didn’t say another word. She sat quietly in the chair opposite her friend. Sara was right. Vicki had had her suspicions about Sara’s pretty bracelet, about the plethora of bizarre cases that had come out of the woodwork since she had acquired that piece of jewelry, and especially about some of the things that had been happening lately. But she wasn’t about to interrupt the Witchblade’s tale for all the tea in…China. Sara told her friend everything, from the moment the Blade had chosen her at the Midtown Museum to the latest lunacy: Ian’s clone, Devian, and Irons’ quest for her rejuvenate blood. Vicki took it all in quietly, her mind whirling with thoughts and theories. Devian was a clone. How was that possible? The world beyond the Witchblade thought that a sheep was a big deal. They sat in silence for several minutes while Vicki digested the incredible pile of information that Sara had given her.

Vicki pushed a shaky hand through her hair, making it stand up in endearing spikes. She loosed a breathy sigh and asked Sara, “So, are you immortal?” Hearing herself, Vicki shook her head, dazed at the implications of all this and added a whispered, “Jesus.” Sara managed a tired smile. The afternoon was gone and the morgue had cleared out as people left for the day. She shrugged. “I don’t think so,” she replied, “Long lived is probably more accurate. Of course, it’s probably a mute point since I’m not invulnerable. As far as I can tell from the history, most Wielders die young.” Vicki nodded. Sara’s story had taken her from agitated to subdued. “I can do some blood tests for you, if you like,” Vicki suggested, “We can find out more about what it’s done to your genetic structure.” Sara smiled. Vicki the scientist was back. Sara was a lot more comfortable with this incarnation of her friend than with Vicki the spurned lover. “Sure, if you want,” Sara agreed, “I’m sure Dr. Immo has already run every conceivable test but we’ll never be privy to the results.” Vicki shook her head. “That man must be a genius,” she observed, “To do what he’s done.”

Sara thought about the few occasions on which she had met Irons’ pet doctor. Immo might be a genius but he was a warped one. The man creeped her out. Vicki’s reeling mind found its way back to where this denouement had begun. “You’ve reached no conclusion as to why the Witchblade would push you and Devian together, make you lovers?” she asked. Sara shook her head. “I have theories,” she said, “I’m sure Dev and Ian have them too. The Blade isn’t much on clear exposition; it leans toward the cryptic. I guess we won’t know until more clues present themselves. Personally, I think something big is coming – but I haven’t told the others.” Vicki tilted her head. “Why not?” she asked. Sara shrugged. “I have nothing to back it up,” she replied, ever the detective, “It’s all just supposition and a healthy case of the willies.” Vicki frowned. “I’m a scientist too, like your Dr. Immo,” she said, “And a pretty good one. Maybe I can find some clues that point to what It’s up to. Shall I try?” Sara smiled. She realized that she was exhausted. All she wanted right now was to go home and crash. “He’s not ‘my’ Dr. Immo. The man was bought and owned by Kenneth Irons,” Sara replied, adding, “Yeah, sure. Anything you could find out would be greatly appreciated.” Sara glanced at her watch and sucked in a shocked breath. “Yegods,” she exclaimed, “Danny and Jake must think you kidnapped me and sold me into white slavery.” That brought another thought to her mind. “Vick,” she said, “Neither Danny nor Jake know anything about the Blade; although, like you, I think Dan has his suspicions. Please don’t say anything to either of them. At some point – probably soon – I’ll tell Danny too, but I want to do it in my own time and way. Okay?” Vicki nodded.

“Dinner tomorrow night promises to be even more interesting than originally planned,” Vicki murmured, rubbing her hands together, “A clone; a real, live clone.” Sara cast her friend a worried glance. “I don’t know that Devian really thinks of himself much that way any more, Vick,” she said, suddenly reminded of Pinocchio, “I think he kind of wants to be a real, live boy. You know?” Vicki waved a hand airily. “Sure, sure,” she responded, dismissing Sara’s concern, “Still he is an absolutely amazing scientific achievement.” Sara found herself in the unusual position of feeling protective of Devian. She felt very uncomfortable with her friend’s enthusiasm for the less humane aspects of Dev’s existence. “Vick,” she asked hesitantly, “You’re not going to come at the guy tomorrow night like he’s something out of a test tube because I told you this, are you?” Vicki studied her curiously and said, “He is something out of a test tube.” Sara frowned. “Well, yeah,” she said, “Yeah, I know he is – technically – but he’s his own person now. Shit, you know what I mean. He’s trying to connect. He’s learning to feel. He’s not some fucking Science Fair experiment.” Vicki was staring at her, wide-eyed. “You do have feelings for him, don’t you?” she asked, “Feelings that have nothing to do with the secret plots of your bracelet.” Sara dropped her head into her hands. She was so tired. “I’ll be brutally honest with you, Vicki,” she murmured into her hands, “I don’t really know what I feel any more. I don’t really know where I stop and the Blade begins. I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t. I’m so tired.” Vicki could barely hear her friend’s plaintive lament but she got the gist of it. It was time to stop pressing Sara to explain herself. It was time to let her go home to rest.

Vicki stood, all business now that she had someone else to mother. “Okay,” she said, “That’s enough explanations for today. Is it Ian’s night at the dojo?” Sara lifted her head and nodded. “Good,” Vicki continued, “I’m going to take you home. You can leave the Buell here. We’ll get some Chinese on the way.” She held up her hand as Sara started to object. “I’ll get my Chinese and you can get your Chinese,” Vicki said, anticipating the coming objection, “We can each take our own little boxes to our own little lofts. You don’t need to make any more conversation until Ian gets home. You look like you need some time alone. Yes?” Sara gave her a grateful smile. “Yes,” she agreed. Vicki nodded crisply. “Cool,” she said, “Go upstairs to get your stuff and I’ll meet you in the garage in ten minutes.” Sara stood. She started for the door but turned back to impulsively give Vicki a quick embrace. “You’re a good friend,” she whispered. Vicki grinned. “Damn straight,” she said, giving Sara a little push toward the door and adding, “Go on. The garage in ten minutes – no more.” Sara headed toward the stairs and Vicki began to shut down her equipment and gather her things together.

Sara had taken Hannibal for his evening walk, and then shared her Moo Shu Pork and shrimp fried rice with him. After putting away the leftovers, she had built a small fire and settled herself in one of the big easy chairs. When she had first come back from their walk, Sara had showered and then put on Ian’s old, white terry robe. Slightly chilly now, she covered herself with the afghan, which she had dragged back down to the library from the chair in the sleeping loft. Mildly stuffed and warm, she fell asleep in the comfortable chair, with the dog stretched by the fire and the cat curled up in the matching chair across from her. She didn’t hear Dev when he worked his way through all the locks and other security to let himself into the loft. Sara had left work earlier than usual and it was only a little after 7:00. Having followed the routine at the dojo himself, Devian knew that Ian would be getting home sometime around 10:00; that gave them three hours. He heard Hannibal’s nails clicking on the hardwood floor as the big dog came to greet him. It was too quiet in the loft. “She’s not here,” he thought, aching disappointment washing through him, “She must have gone out through the garage again while I was watching the front door.” Devian crouched down to hug his furry friend. Reeling from the missed opportunity, he shut his eyes and buried his face in Hannibal’s fur. Then, he heard a log shift in the fireplace, the crackle of sudden flame. Sara would never go out and leave a fire burning. The rush of excitement was just as suddenly back.

Dev stood and walked slowly to the library, Hannibal trailing him like a shadow. He carefully peered around the corner of the bookcase and saw Sara curled up in the chair asleep, covered with the afghan. He tilted his head, watching her. In the soft glow of the firelight, she looked so tired. There were dark circles under her eyes. Dev had come there hoping that they could touch, could make love again. Now, looking at her sleeping, he decided that he couldn’t wake her. Maybe he could just be close to her for a while instead. The clone crossed the room and dropped gracefully to the floor at Sara’s feet. Careful not to disturb her, he draped an arm across her knees and put his head in her lap. He shut his eyes and drank in the scent of her, his heart beating furiously. When her hand fell to his neck, her fingers stretching into his thick, silky hair to stroke his head, Devian moaned softly. He couldn’t stop his body from pressing closer against her legs. Her hand simply stroking his hair had made him hard. Sara shifted a little in the chair and lazily opened her eyes. Still half asleep, she saw the dark head in her lap, the long, lean body in black sweats angled at her feet. “Ian,” she thought. She had slept the whole night away. Her eyes drifted over to check the clock on the mantel above the fireplace. Something was wrong. It was only a little after 7:00. Why wasn’t Ian at the dojo teaching his classes? A second after that, it all fell into place in her head. It wasn’t Ian who was cuddled against her. It was Devian. While she thought it out, she kept stroking his hair.

When her hand brushed over his ear, she encountered a small hoop earring. Sara couldn’t help it; she smiled and ruffled his hair. He was still such a kid. “When did you get your ears pierced, sparky?” she murmured. She felt him stiffen a little. He lifted his head to look warily into her eyes. Her hand dropped into her lap. “I went to the mall before I came here,” he whispered, “It was advertised on the television. It’s so big.” There was a pause while they studied each other, each trying to gauge the other’s mood. “Did I wake you?” he finally asked. She shook her head. “What are you doing here?” she asked him. He shrugged and dropped his eyes, thick lashes hiding his feelings. That’s another Ian gesture, she thought. “I needed to see you alone – away from other people, away from your job,” he said softly, “You wouldn’t talk to me…after. I needed to know…” His voice trailed off. He sighed softly and gave his head a tiny shake. She didn’t respond and the big, golden eyes flicked up to give her a quick, nervous glance before dropping again. “I’m sorry,” he continued, so softly that she could barely hear him, “I’m probably doing this all wrong. I don’t know what to do, how to act. I watched some films, but it’s hard to tell what’s right with real people. I always seem to do the wrong thing when I’m with you. I always seem to make you angry.” He sighed again, running out of steam. They both sat quietly for a minute or two. Then, Sara reached out a hand to gently push back a curl that had fallen across his forehead when he lowered his head.

She started to pull back her hand and he raised his head again quickly, saying, “No. Please don’t stop. Touch me.” Sara dropped her hand down to his bearded cheek, rubbing her knuckles slowly against his high cheekbone. Devian shut his eyes and whispered, “I love you.” She pulled her hand back as if it had been scalded. A moment later, his eyes, now dark, smoky amber, opened again. She could hear the sadness, the regret in his voice when he whispered, “See? It didn’t take long at all. I’ve annoyed you again, haven’t I?” Sara frowned. “You confuse me, Dev,” she replied, “It’s not quite the same. Although you are frequently annoying, I admit.” He snorted softly. “At least I’m good at something,” he murmured. Her heart lurched at the confusion and unhappiness in his beautiful eyes. She rubbed his arm, which still rested across her knees. “Want to cuddle with me?” she asked. Dev’s whole face lit up. “I’d love to,” he replied. Sara smiled. “Here’s what you do,” she directed, “You pick me up, afghan and all, and then you sit back down with me in your arms. Got it?” The cocky grin was back again. “Yeah,” he purred, “I think I can handle that.” He stood in one fluid motion; then bent over to gently lift Sara in his arms, afghan and all. Devian turned and sat back down, holding her tight in his arms. “What now?” he asked.

“Sit still,” Sara said, wriggling the afghan loose and spreading it out until it covered both of them. She shifted around on his lap until she got comfortable and he got aroused. She cleared her throat when she felt the erection pressing against her bottom. They both studiously ignored it. Dev’s arms were still around her, cradling her against his body. Sara slipped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder, pushing her face between his chin and shoulder. She sighed comfortably and pressed a kiss to his neck. Devian turned his head to kiss her forehead and nuzzle his face into her hair. He made a sound that was somewhere between a purr and a soft growl. Sara smiled and asked, “Doing okay there, sparky? Not too…excited?” He gave another one of those soft snorts. “It’s under control, Pez,” he responded. She thought about reminding him that she’d told him not to call her that, but she was pretty sure that he remembered. He was just doing what he was good at again; being annoying. There was a long pause where they just cuddled. Fingers deep in his hair again, stroking his scalp, she asked, “When are they reading the will?” Dev made a soft sound deep in his throat. He had been dozing off. “Monday afternoon,” he said huskily. Sara kissed his neck again and he made that purring noise.

“You know,” she said, “Once that’s done and Ian signs Irons’ empire over to you, you’re going to be so busy that you won’t even have time to think about me. You’ll have all these terrific new toys to play with. You know what I’m saying?” Dev lifted his head to look down at her. “You’re not a toy to me, Sara,” he said, “I won’t stop loving you just because I have less time on my hands. Is that what you think?” She shrugged; a tiny hitch of one shoulder. “I’m just saying that your life will change drastically, Dev,” she said, “All of this is still so new to you. Give yourself a chance to live a little before you make any life-altering commitments.” He dropped his head to push his face back into her hair. “It wasn’t a conscious choice I made to fall in love with you, Sara,” he murmured, “If that’s the way that it’s supposed to happen, then you’re giving me too much credit. It hit me over the head like a ton of bricks. I was lost between one moment and the next. I may be inexperienced, but I know what I feel. I don’t think taking over at Vorschlag or living a bit more is going to change it.” She turned her head and suddenly they were face to face. “You’re forgetting the Witchblade, Dev,” she reminded him, “It was playing with you when all this happened.” He looked deep into those green, green eyes. “You’re right,” he agreed, “The Blade played us both. But I think that it only made what was already there between us that much more intense. It’s not playing me now and I love you so much it makes me ache.” Sara sucked in a breath and whispered, “Dev…” He sighed. “Okay, okay,” he said, “I’ll stop. We’ll just cuddle. Yes?” She settled against his hard body more comfortably. “Yes,” she confirmed.

They cuddled some more and, in a little while, they both fell asleep. Devian woke suddenly around 9:30 as if an internal alarm had gone off. He glanced at the clock on the mantel and shifted Sara in his arms so that he could bend down to gently kiss her awake. Sara stretched against him, pressed her face to his neck. She flicked out her tongue to lick his skin. Dev drew in a sharp breath. “Hey, Pezzini,” he whispered shakily, “Don’t go getting me worked up now. I have to go. Ian will be home soon.” She pulled back a little to look up at him. “You could stay in the guest room,” she suggested. He shook his head. “I don’t belong here, Sara,” he replied, “This is Ian’s home, yours and his. I don’t belong here.” She looked at him curiously. “Do you belong at the mansion?” she asked. Devian shook his head again. “So, where do you belong?” she countered. He stroked her hair, then leaned down to slant a warm kiss across her mouth. “I don’t know,” he said, “I haven’t found that out yet.” He pushed the afghan off them. “I have to go,” he repeated. Sara eased herself from his lap. He stood. She looked up at him and said, “This was nice.” He grinned and replied, “It certainly wasn’t what I intended. But you’re right. It was nice.” She stretched up on her toes and kissed him. They were both still unguarded. Their lips touched and opened, tongues darting out to tease and tangle. Her arms tightened around his neck, fingers digging into his curls. His arms wrapped around her to pull her body hard against his. The passion quickly flared again between them. Sara dropped her hands to his chest, pushing him back, before things could get out of hand.

Sara glanced down at the Blade to find it pulsing hotly. They were both panting. She could feel him trembling under her fingers. “I’m sorry, sparky,” she whispered, “I shouldn’t have done that.” He lifted his head. The golden eyes were blurry, dazed. “Nah,” he said, “It’s okay. The only bad part was when you stopped.” She smiled and said, “You better get out of here if you’re going.” Devian nodded and headed toward the door. He walked into the bookcase. She winced and asked, “Are you okay?” He snorted and turned back. “My blood dropped out of my head,” he explained, “Makes it hard to think…or walk, I guess. Night, Sara.” She smiled and said, “Night, Dev.” A few seconds later, she heard the front door close. She sat back down in the chair and thought about the strange evening she had just shared with the clone. He was starting to grow on her. Finally, Sara went to lock the bolts and reset the security on the front door before she climbed up to the sleeping loft. She lay down on the bed to wait for Ian to get home and promptly fell asleep again.