The Keeper's Vow: A Chosen Novel (The Keepers Book 3)

by Meg Anne

  A wave of energy surged through him and he took off running, legs and arms pumping in a graceless sprint across the sand.

  His flight slowed as he approached the spot where he’d just seen the familiar stone arch.

  It wasn’t here.

  Kieran spun around, desperately searching for the pale gray stones he’d spotted from his perch on the dune.

  There was nothing here but more sand. His eyes had played tricks on him once again.

  “No!” The broken cry was torn from his throat, scraping the parched flesh like razor blades.

  Kieran sank to his knees in the sand, the final shred of hope he’d been clinging to snuffed out.

  “No,” he whispered, his hands sinking into the scorching sand as his head hung in despair.

  He was too dehydrated for tears, but that didn’t mean he could not weep. His shoulders shook with the force of his tearless sobs, until he was no longer strong enough to hold himself up. Flinging his arms out on either side of his prone body, Kieran stared up into the cloudless blue sky and knew with absolute conviction that he was going to die here.

  And not one person, in any world, would mourn him.

  Chapter 5

  Lucian tightened the straps of his pack before setting it beside the single wagon they’d managed to salvage. Two healers had survived the attack and had been able to take care of the others’ injuries so no one had need of the wagon to travel. That meant Lucian could hide Effie inside of it along with the rest of the supplies they’d pulled together.

  Now all that remained before they could go was for Lucian to go get Effie and pray that no one discovered her. He didn’t have much hope for the latter part, but he’d convinced Kael to take the lead and get a head start with those traveling on foot. Lucian would remain behind and follow with the wagon. If nothing else, it bought him a little more time.

  “You sure about this?” Kael asked for the seventh time that morning.

  Lucian speared him with a look and didn’t bother answering.

  Kael sighed. “Alright, well I guess we’ll take off. No use wasting daylight.”

  “You know what to do if you come across signs of the corruption?”

  His brother nodded. “Circle around and send word via the Triumvirate’s mental link so you know the new path.”

  Lucian nodded. “Good.”

  “Luc, I don’t like splitting up.”

  “So you’ve said.”

  “These people aren’t warriors,” he tried again.

  “That’s what you, the Night Stalker, and the Shield are for. Besides, these people fought and survived once. They can do it again.”

  Kael scowled. “You’re a stubborn ass, you know that?”

  Lucian brought up a hand and squeezed Kael’s shoulder. “Love you, too, Brother.”

  “Just . . . stay safe, alright? Don’t take any unnecessary risks where Ef—”

  Lucian clamped down hard on Kael’s shoulder. The other Guardian winced and corrected his misstep.

  “—she’s concerned.”

  “I won’t.”

  “She’s going to be worse than the last time. Have you taken precautions?”

  Lucian’s only answer was to stare hard at Kael.

  Kael shook his head and sighed. “It’d be easier to talk sense into a wall.”

  “I’m not far behind you,” Lucian said, not acknowledging Kael’s aggrieved comment. We’ll plan on making camp at the border. If I don’t catch up to you by nightfall, you don’t come looking for me. Keep going. Get these people to the Vale.”

  Kael pressed his lips together, looking like he wanted to argue.

  “Kael, we’ve discussed this. It’s not safe to wander in the jungle, especially at night. Until we meet up again, you are in charge. These people and their safety are your top priority. You cannot let your loyalty to me sway you from your task.”

  “I won’t,” Kael said finally, sounding thoroughly put out.

  Lucian understood the war waging inside of his oldest friend, but it did not mean he would yield. Not on this. “Make sure the Triumvirate are seen walking beside the survivors. These people need to know that their leaders are with them.”

  Kael muttered something about scarlet hooded assholes, and Lucian bit back a grin, understanding the sentiment if not the words.

  “I’ll see you soon, brother.”

  “Safe travels, Lucian,” Kael said, his expressive green eyes somber.

  With a nod, Lucian turned and walked away. He didn’t get far before a hand shot out and grasped his arm. Lucian spun, sword already halfway free from its scabbard. He bit off a curse when he saw who stopped him.

  “What?” he snapped, shoving Ronan off of him.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Gathering the rest of the supplies,” he lied smoothly.

  Ronan’s eyes narrowed with challenge. “The last of them were loaded into the wagon an hour ago. What are you really up to?”

  “None of your business,” Lucian replied in a tight voice.

  “I’m the Shield. In the Kiri’s absence I am the senior person in charge—”

  “Tell that to her Advisor.”

  Ronan scowled, but didn’t pause. “—and that means I outrank you. So spit it out. Now.”

  A muscle spasmed in Lucian’s jaw. I do not have time for this shit. Leaning forward, voice dripping with something dark and not wholly sane, he replied, “No one outranks a Guardian. Not even the Kiri herself has power over me or my brothers.”

  Ronan’s blue eyes glittered dangerously. “Want to test the theory?”

  “I’ve already kicked your ass once, Shield. Happy to do it again.”

  Lucian’s patience was frayed on his best day. Right now, with fear eating away at him of what he would face when he made it back to Effie, he was hardly fit to be around anyone he actually liked. Ronan was pushing his luck by testing Lucian’s control. Especially when the Shield did not fall into the category of being someone he liked. Not after leaving Effie behind.

  The longer they stared at each other, violence and temper simmering between them, the better a fight sounded. A least it would be a way to let off some of the tension thrumming through him.

  Finally, Ronan let out a deep breath and shook his head. “I’m not looking to pick a fight with you.”

  “Pity.”

  “You’re up to something. I want to know what. Especially if it puts the rest of us in danger.”

  “I told you, Shield. It’s none of your business.”

  “Let me be the judge of that.”

  Lucian could practically feel time slipping away. There was nothing to gain by wasting more of it on this conversation.

  He knew it was a risk, letting Ronan see Effie in her altered state, but he was going to find out sooner or later. Lucian couldn’t imagine Ronan wouldn’t take his side in this. Not when he clearly cared about Effie. But if he didn’t . . . well, Lucian would deal with that too.

  “You want to know so bad? Fine. Follow me.”

  Ronan’s eyes widened, but he wasted no time catching up to Lucian’s ground-eating strides. “Are you going to at least warn me about what to expect or am I going into this blind?”

  “Don’t push your luck, Shield.”

  He didn’t speak further, but Lucian felt his displeasure building between them. Ronan’s unease was palpable. So was his curiosity. Not that Lucian gave two shits about it. After what Ronan did, he could live with his questions awhile longer. Lucian didn’t owe him a damned thing, least of all satisfaction.

  They walked in silence for ten minutes, weaving through the destruction and taking a wide path around what had once been a courtyard until it opened up into the remnants of a garden.

  Lucian came to a stop, eyes flaring bronze as his power illuminated the shimmering portal just ahead. The entrance to the catacombs was hidden in plain sight, just like everything else when it came to the Keepers. It didn’t take centuries of living to learn that the less secretive som
ething appeared, the less interest people had in poking around where they didn’t belong.

  A rose bush that was more thorns than flowers was the perfect hiding spot. Nasty looking enough to warn off anything that might be tempted to reach for a flower, it deterred unwanted guests more successfully than a sign or gate ever could.

  “After you,” Lucian said in a deceptively courteous voice.

  Ronan’s eyes narrowed. “Is this a trick, Guardian?”

  Lucian let some of his pent-up anger filter into his words. “When I come for you, Shield, there’s no mistaking it. I have no need for tricks.”

  The warrior was too well-trained to allow his reaction to the threat show, but his nostrils flared once, telling Lucian everything he needed to know.

  “Walk straight ahead. You’ll end up in a dim hallway, just keep walking. I’ll be right behind you.”

  “Doesn’t fill me with confidence.”

  “Don’t care.”

  Ronan grit his teeth and tightened his hold on the hilt of the dagger strapped to his hip—as if that would do anything to stop Lucian from completing a kill if that was his intent—and did as he was told.

  Lucian watched him disappear between one step and the next, waiting two beats to ensure he was clear of the portal before following him.

  The hallway was dank and dark, the few torches Lucian had left burning were extinguished. Up ahead Ronan spotted one of them and set it ablaze with a flare of his power.

  “What is this place?” he asked in a low voice when Lucian strode past him.

  “Catacombs.”

  “I thought that was a myth.”

  “Live long enough, Shield, everything turns into a myth.”

  Ronan grunted. “Don’t like the thought of disturbing the dead.”

  Lucian contemplated telling him that this was not the resting place of the dead and just as quickly decided against it. “Then don’t disturb them.”

  Lucian knew he was being an ass, but it didn’t lessen his small flicker of amusement. Payback, in any form, was sweet.

  His amusement was short-lived as they neared the room where Effie was being held. No matter what Kael thought, no amount of precaution would help prepare Lucian for this. There was no way to prepare for seeing Effie. To anticipate what the sight of her, mindless in her bloodlust, would do to him. How it would shred him.

  “No matter what happens, you do not strike, do you understand me?” Lucian asked in a low, terse voice.

  Ronan eyed him before giving a single, swift nod.

  Lucian paused in front of the door, ears straining for any hint of movement behind it. If it was a proper cell, it would have bars instead of wood, but this room was never intended to be anything more than a bedroom.

  His eyes dropped to the twisted mound of metal that had once been the doorknob. It was the best he could do without a lock. Holding his hand just above it, he released his power only long enough to transform it back.

  If Ronan was impressed by the act, he gave no indication of it.

  Eyes closing briefly, Lucian sucked in a final breath. If he believed in the Mother, he might ask her for strength, but he’d lived too long, and seen too many die in the name of a god or goddess that cared nothing of them. Instead, he sent his fervent prayer to the one person he did believe in.

  Her.

  Fight as long as you can, fledgling. I won’t give up until one or both of us is dead, and I have no intention of dying. You know I’m a stubborn bastard. Not even this will keep me from you now that I have found you. Don’t give up on me.

  Eyes blazing with bronze fire, Lucian opened the door. He scanned the room, eyebrows knitting together in confusion when he didn’t immediately see her. Surprise had his power flaring out. Had she managed to escape? He moved further into the room, eyes sweeping the ground for a sign of her.

  His mistake.

  He never should have let his guard down.

  An inhuman shriek echoed around the mostly empty room as a feral creature launched herself at him. Caught unaware, Lucian staggered to the side as he caught the weight and tried to pry it off of him.

  “Miss me, Guardian?” she crooned, licking up the side of his face before trying to sink her teeth into his neck.

  Lucian jerked his head back, and shoved her face away from his, holding it there. “Can’t say that I have,” he lied.

  Behind him, Ronan gasped in shock. “Effie? Sweet Mother have mercy.”

  “Not the time for praying, Shield.”

  “H-how?” Ronan stuttered.

  “Not . . . the . . . time . . .,” Lucian grunted as the thrashing creature in his arms started landing kicks that narrowly missed his groin. “A little help, please?”

  Stunned, Ronan shuffled into the room, his hands stretched out before him like he wasn’t sure what to do with them.

  “Grab her, damnit,” Lucian ordered over his shoulder, still attempting to fully dislodge himself from Effie’s hold while also not causing more physical harm than necessary.

  Had it been any other creature, he would have tossed it against the far wall and dismembered it by now. But this was still Effie. Or at least he had to believe it was. That required a level of finesse he rarely, if ever, employed during battle. Usually he opted for a kill first, ask questions later model.

  “Don’t let her bite you,” Lucian warned as Ronan moved into position behind her.

  Ronan froze when the creature met his eyes.

  “What’s wrong? Don’t you love me anymore?”

  A visible shudder worked itself down Ronan’s body at her guttural rasp.

  “Ronan. Get your shit together.”

  Steeling his shoulders, Ronan’s eyes slid to look away from Effie’s monstrous visage. “What do you want me to do?”

  “We need to immobilize her for travel. That will require bindings.”

  Effie let out a savage cry at his words, trying to twist her head to snap at his fingers.

  Lucian spoke over her, giving her face another shove to avoid her snapping teeth. “I need you to help hold her still while I work. We’ll start with her mouth since it’s the most dangerous.”

  Effie smiled then, a crazed sort of grin that had his stomach dropping to his feet. He felt her slipping further away from him as he watched, the madness overtaking her piece by piece. Soon there would be nothing left to save.

  “I thought you loved my mouth, Guardian.”

  He could hardly bear to look at her. Although Effie had always been fierce, the being before him was a separate thing entirely. A rabid savage more akin to a wild animal than a human woman. Her face had already taken on a gaunt cast, her cheekbones more pronounced than they’d been even the night prior. Even her body, which had always been softened with feminine curves, had started to change. The lines in her eyes slithered obscenely, and Lucian shuddered.

  “Shut up,” he snarled, hating himself for letting the monster get to him even as the words left his mouth. He was stronger than this.

  Effie raked her nails down his arms, drawing blood. She closed her eyes on a deep inhale and let out a groan that sounded entirely too sexual in its pleasure. “Delicious,” she rasped.

  Ronan moved fast, seizing Effie by the arms and yanking them back. One hand easily held both wrists in its grasp. He banded his other arm about her waist and pulled her free from Lucian’s hold. The move might not have worked if she wasn’t so distracted by the scent of Lucian’s blood.

  “Go. I’ve got her.”

  Lucian cast his eyes around the room, searching for the weathered blanket he’d seen when he’d been here last. He found the dirty garment crumpled on the floor, and held out a hand, using his power to weave it into something new.

  In less time than it took to draw a breath, Lucian lifted heavy chains from the ground. In his other hand, he held up the last remaining scrap of fabric. Hefting the chains over his shoulder, he raised the makeshift gag and stepped back to the squirming woman.

  “Don’t you dare,” the cre
ature spat.

  Lucian clenched his jaw.

  “You wouldn’t do this to someone you claim to love, would you?”

  He felt the pain of her words rip through him, a part of Lucian in agony at the thought of having to do this to her. It’s not Effie, he reminded himself.

  She went wild, thrashing in Ronan’s arms as Lucian moved in. Ronan grunted when she smashed her foot into him, but otherwise remained still, his hold on her unbroken. She reared back, lifting both her legs in an attempt to slam them into Lucian’s chest. He moved fast, catching her before the blow landed by banding an arm around both her calves. Between him holding her legs, and Ronan at her back, Effie was trapped. The knowledge didn’t faze her. She continued writhing like a worm on a hook.

  Chaining her was going to be difficult if they both had to hold her still. Exchanging a look with Ronan over Effie’s head, Lucian inwardly sighed. She wasn’t making this easy. Not that Effie ever did. Instead of another wave of grief, the thought bolstered him. If that much of her true nature was still intact, all could not be lost.

  Tucking the scrap of fabric into his belt, Lucian went to work wrapping the first of the metal chains around her feet. Since she needed to be able to walk, that required him to wind the links around each of her ankles, leaving enough slack to allow some movement.

  When the chains were looped, albeit loosely, Lucian tapped into his power once more, transforming the links into tight bands that fit perfectly around the creature’s slender ankles. And even though it was a Shadow-touched he was binding, since it was Effie, he ensured that the insides of the metal cuffs were lined with the softest suede to minimize any chafing. It was the least he could do.

  She squirmed in earnest as Lucian lowered her feet to the ground, the clinking of chains somewhat of a relief, even though it made her howl with rage.

  “Damned convenient skill, that.”

  Lucian shrugged, not sparing him a glance. “It has its moments.”

  “Brother, you just turned a sorry excuse for a blanket into a fucking length of heavy chain, and then changed portions of it into perfectly sized metal cuffs. I’d never have to worry about packing again.”