The Keepers

by Rae Rivers

  The sound drew his mouth back to hers and he devoured her all over again.

  He invaded her senses, his touch possessive and demanding until anticipation and hot desire were all she knew.

  He tugged her hips against him. The hardness of him made her instantly wet. She felt him everywhere, her body alive with a sexual awakening that had been dormant for so long.

  Her towel loosened and she clutched at it with one hand, but not enough to cover all of her. Breathing heavily, he lowered his gaze to her exposed breast, taking his fill. He cupped her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers until it was hard and aching beneath his touch.

  “You are so damn beautiful,” he murmured, his voice husky. Raw desire lined his expression, his eyes darker than she’d ever seen before.

  With a soft growl, he dipped his head, sucking a nipple into his mouth. The air rushed from her lungs and she arched her back. The sound must’ve pleased him, spurred him on, as he exhaled noisily and slid his hand between them to find the sensitive nub between her legs. She was so wet for him and she cried out, surprised at how easily she leaned back, her body going slack against his.

  His mouth caught hers in a savage kiss, whilst he teased her with a few leisurely strokes that hurtled her into a sea of sensations so powerful she was sure they’d consume her.

  When that familiar pinch of pleasure rose up inside, she threw her head back, clinging to him. Her climax was fierce and sudden, her cry one of pure ecstasy. Energy surged inside her, warm and comforting.

  A vague voice of warning jarred her senses. But it was too late.

  And he felt it too.

  That magical trickle of warmth that touched everything inside her. Now inside him.

  A low growl emanated from the back of his throat as his arms came up around her waist, holding her close. They stood in silence, breathless, panting, a quivering mess of desire and heat and wanting. But there was something more. Confusion. Questions. Surprise.

  He looked at the cut on his hand. A cut that wasn’t there. His questioning gaze met hers. “What the hell just happened?”

  The lack of anger in his voice surprised her. Clutching her towel, she took a step back, connecting with the bath. “I don’t know.”

  It was the truth. Sort of.

  Confusion furrowed his brows. “Was that you?”

  “It was us, I guess. That’s never happened before.” She cleared her throat and fastened the towel around her. “A reminder that … this should never have happened.”

  “You weren’t complaining a moment ago.”

  No, she most certainly hadn’t. Because it had felt so damn incredible and it had been too damn long.

  “Ethan.” Licking her lips, she lifted her gaze to meet the intensity of his. “We shouldn’t do this. As amazing as that was … we can’t.” Her heartbeat pounded in her throat as she said the words. Desperate to put some space between them, she hurried to the door.

  “Jenna.” The quiet murmur of her name had her glancing over her shoulder. “Your magic, you’ve never shown me. You never talk about it.”

  “It’s habit, Ethan. I spent the last few years hiding it from our enemies.”

  “But you’re not with them anymore. You’re with me.”

  Their gazes locked, the moment rife with emotion, tension. Unable to breathe, she took a step back, but he was there in a heartbeat, taking her arm.

  His unwavering gaze sent her pulse soaring. “Why do you do that?”

  She raised a brow.

  “Withdraw,” he explained. “Every time we get too close, you run.”

  Words evaded her and all she could do was stare. She’d expected a barrage of questions, accusations. Anger. And his ability to see right through her was unnerving.

  “Don’t hide from me, Jen,” he murmured. “Your magic. Your past. Stop hiding.”

  She thought about denying it, offering an excuse. But couldn’t. Instead, she exhaled quietly and opted for honesty. “It’s instinctive, Ethan. The only way I’ve survived for so long is by keeping it all hidden. And it goes back further than my time with Hazel. I don’t know anything else.”

  The emotion in his eyes and the heat that emanated from him set flight to the butterflies in her belly. When he captured her face in his palms, she stopped breathing.

  “I want more,” he murmured, tilting her head so their gazes were level. “I want to know everything there is to know about you. Your desires, your fears. Even your damn secrets.”

  “Ethan –”

  “I want it all, Jenna, but I get they’re your secrets to keep and you’re scared to let me in. I also get that any more of what just happened probably isn’t a great idea. But it’s not the worst idea.” The corner of his mouth lifted into a teasing smile, increasing the dimple in his cheek. He leaned closer, his lips hovering against hers. “As complicated as this is, it’ll be fun. And safe.”

  Safe. Something she hadn’t felt in a long, long time and, somehow, he knew that.

  He kissed her, smiling when she quivered. Slow and teasing, the gentle touch of his lips a contrast to the heat that blazed off him.

  But he pulled away all too soon, leaving her breathless and wanting. She was all too aware of his arousal pressed against her and couldn’t deny the punch of satisfaction knowing she wasn’t the only one affected by their kisses.

  He wanted her as much as she wanted him.

  “And just so you know,” he murmured, a mild grin playing on his lips. “After what just happened, that red line between us is damn near invisible.”

  Without waiting for her reply, he planted a firm kiss on her lips and withdrew. Grinning, he turned around and left.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  Jenna held her breath as she sailed across another rooftop, her body fuelled with adrenaline that numbed the guilt. It did nothing for the ache in her heart.

  An ache that was all Ethan.

  I want more.

  Their last conversation, the way he’d ravished her in the bathroom, had replayed in her mind as she’d tossed and turned on Susan’s bed. She’d insisted they share, but Ethan had taken the couch. He’d fallen asleep quickly, even though the couch was a size too small.

  Desperation and anguish and a dozen other emotions had fought her conscience and she’d waited another hour before giving in to the urge that robbed her of rest.

  She was in Ameera. At last. She finally, finally, had a chance of returning home. Discovering what had happened to her family.

  So she’d dressed silently and left, ignoring the rush of guilt that curled her insides. Leaving him behind was wrong. She knew that, but if she hurried, she’d be back before he awoke.

  Fat chance.

  She’d taken to the rooftops. When she’d reached the higher buildings, she’d hit the ground running and only slowed when she reached her old neighbourhood.

  Jenna kept her senses alert and her gaze lowered. Her legs felt heavy – or was that her heart? Either way, dread had taken over, the thought of returning home suddenly more terrifying than facing Ethan’s wrath if he woke up and found her missing.

  When she finally turned the corner into the street where she’d grown up, desperation wiped away all thoughts of why she shouldn’t be here. So many years had passed, so much longing, speculating. There had to be answers here. She had to know what had happened to her parents, why they’d never come for her.

  Then maybe – just maybe – she could move on. Live her life. Closure.

  Was that even possible?

  A row of triple-storey duplex homes lined both sides of the street. They were all joined, tall and narrow. There were no gardens, only weeds and concrete rubble, the ground strewn with litter. The earth tremors had damaged the entire city, even here. Several houses had been abandoned. A few people hovered in their doorways, their attention on a crowd gathered in the distance. Despite the cold, they wore minimal clothing, most likely all they had.

  The air smelt like fuel, a luxury in the city. The cro
wd up ahead erupted into angry shouts, hurling insults at two men bound to a lamppost, secured with ropes. Wood taken from old furniture and doors surrounded the pole, drenched in fuel.

  Unease crawled through Jenna, instantly recognising the ritual. A punishment. She’d only seen it once before, the night the people in her neighbourhood had captured a young vampire with a blood lust for teenage girls.

  A city of violence, where an eye for an eye was a given.

  A woman emerged from the crowd, a vague profile in the darkness, and struck a match. The wood went up in flames. Cheers erupted.

  Nausea washed over Jenna. She hurried away, climbed through two concrete slabs, dodging cement debris.

  And then there it was. Her old house. Sad, ruined, a shell of what it had once been. It looked nothing like she remembered.

  Finally.

  She stared in silence, unable to move. Her eyes welled with tears and she blinked rapidly to clear them. The flames behind her illuminated the house in a soft glow. The walls, once yellow, were now black – the charred remains from the fire that had ravished her home so many years ago.

  The cast-iron bars were still intact, most of the windows broken. There was no front door, only a black, gaping hole and a gate. A rusted swing chair stood on the porch, stripped of anything useful. They’d never used it, as sitting outside had been too risky. But her mother had liked knowing it was there.

  Willing away the memory and the ache in her chest that came with it, Jenna pushed open the gate, the scrape of metal against sand rattling her nerves.

  “What do you want?” a voice called, the sound amplified in the silence.

  Jenna spun around. A woman peered out from a window in the neighbouring house. It was too dark to see her features, but by the way she crouched and the sound of her voice, Jenna figured she was older.

  “If you’re here to loot the house, you’re wasting your time,” the woman said. “Everything was destroyed during an Annex a couple of years ago. The house is empty. Has been ever since.”

  The Annex.

  One of the most dangerous times in Ameera. Every month, when the full moon peaked, the invisible boundary walls between the species fell away and everyone had the freedom to roam wherever they wanted. A night of chaos, power struggles, looting, and violence that lasted until sunrise when the boundary walls returned. Anyone still out of their district when that happened rarely survived.

  Jenna forced herself to take a breath. “And the couple that lived here? Do you know what happened to them? They had two little girls.”

  “What’s it to you?”

  Impatience clashed with irritation and Jenna walked closer, removing her wristwatch. She held it up. “Where are they?”

  The woman’s gaze fell to the watch. “There was a fire. We never saw them again. They weren’t the only ones hurt that night.”

  Jenna’s heart quickened at the memories. Her neighbours’ screams of panic and confusion. The crackle of flames as the fire had ravished their homes.

  But she’d never seen the faces of their attackers. Her mother had shielded her. Run. She’d argued, refused to enter the portal, but her mother’s insistence had won out.

  You’re made for greater things, Jen. Things that can’t be accomplished here. They won’t think to look for you in the mortal world. You and our secret will be safe there. Trust me. When the time is right, I will find you and I will come for you. I promise.

  A promise her mother hadn’t kept.

  Jenna tasted blood, realising she’d bitten her lip.

  The woman wiggled her fingers to summon the watch. When Jenna tossed it to her, she cradled it like a new treasure. Which it probably was. The watch was valuable and bartering was a way of life for many people in the city, her family included.

  “Our neighbourhood never recovered and with every Annex, it’s grown worse.” The woman nodded behind her, motioning to the dilapidated street. “The earth tremors from the portals don’t help either. Soon, there’ll be nothing left.”

  Guilt gripped Jenna, making it impossible to breathe. A wave of dizziness washed over her. Turning away, she hurried up the concrete steps.

  “You best be careful,” the woman called, glancing up at the sky. “The next Annex will be here in a few days and with the open portal and that dark witch from the mortal world in the city stirring up nonsense, the streets are no place for a young girl like you.”

  “You know Hazel?”

  “I knew her sister and husband.”

  Mason and Warrick’s parents. They’d been accused of killing Sienna and Ethan’s parents and when they’d fled Rapid Falls, there’d been a car accident. They’d died instantly, leaving their boys behind. “How would you know them here, in Ameera?”

  “They were regulars here.”

  That surprised her. “Why?”

  “They often brought supplies, but …” she lifted her shoulders in a small shrug. “Whatever they wanted in return, I doubt they found it as they kept returning.” She motioned to Jenna’s house with a nod of the head. “They were here that night of the fire.”

  Dread curled Jenna’s insides and she swallowed, afraid to ask the next question. “You saw them?”

  “No, but others did. After that, they disappeared and the portal stayed closed until recently.”

  “They died in a car accident.”

  “Figured something had happened. Pity about the supplies. The little they brought helped a lot. I guess now that the portal’s open again, Hazel’s planning to continue what they started.”

  “Be careful. She’s dangerous.”

  “It’s not me she’s after.” She pointed at the house behind Jenna. “Did you know the family that lived here?”

  Jenna nodded and hurried inside. She backed up against the wall. Breathless. Panicky. Her mind reeled with everything the woman had said. She’d always hoped the attack on her family was random, victims of the Annex. Her parents had been so careful, brilliant at developing a foolproof cover.

  But in a place like Ameera, with a dark witch caster on the hunt, was anything foolproof? Hazel’s sister had been there that night. A coincidence?

  We never saw them again.

  An inner voice began to scream and Jenna covered her face in her hands, gasping air, trying to calm the flood of emotions that bombarded her. Forcing several deep breaths into her lungs, she lowered her hands and looked around, drawing on her senses to scope her surroundings. Her heart might be breaking but she hadn’t forgotten the dangers she faced.

  Silence greeted her. She dug into her pocket for her phone. It was useless here but the gadgets still worked. Activating the flashlight, she shone it around. She sniffed and blinked, fighting the tears.

  She never cried. Hadn’t dared since the night of the attack.

  A thick layer of ash covered the living room floor, along with chunks of wood that looked like charred remains of furniture. A double couch rested against the back wall, blackened, springs exposed. Part of the ceiling had sagged in the kitchen, the floor covered in wooden beams and fragments of cement.

  She waded through the debris, drifting to the bottom stairs. Her foot connected with something on the floor. It rolled, startling her, and she hurriedly shifted the beam of light in search of it.

  A doll’s head lay on the ground. The hair had shrivelled, the face a charred, melted mess.

  But she recognised it immediately.

  Her mother had given it to her as a birthday gift one year. A treasured toy in a world where toys and birthdays were seldom available or acknowledged.

  Breathless, she picked it up, clutching it against her chest. She caught sight of a single shoe on the bottom step. Her mother’s shoe. She went for it and swiped at the grime.

  It was a simple slip-on, one her mother had always worn – even the night they’d been attacked. It used to be white.

  A soft sob escaped, echoing through the empty house, followed by another and when the tears came, she couldn’t stop them. The pain was
too great, the loss too powerful.

  She sank to her knees and covered her face, crying for the parents she so desperately missed. She’d never even said goodbye in their rush for safety.

  But as fast as the tears had come, she turned them off. Instincts bristling, she swiped at the tears and killed the flashlight. Her heart skipped a beat, the prickle of warning followed by footsteps outside.

  She wasn’t alone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  Jenna’s senses jerked to the forefront.

  In lightning speed, she moved into the shadows and glanced out the window. A woman scurried up the front stairs, hesitating in the doorway. She wore a beanie and a scarf, her hands shoved into her pockets.

  Megan.

  “What are you doing here?” Jenna asked, her voice gritty from the tears, and suddenly, she regretted them. A moment of weakness.

  “You!” Megan gushed, stepping inside. She cast a quick glance around the room. “I was right. Back at the warehouse. You pulled me out.”

  “A momentary lapse of judgement. I should’ve left you to die.”

  “You’d never do that, Jenna, and we both know it.”

  “You killed two Keepers!”

  “Oh please, you really want to keep track of who’s killing who? We’re at war. Casualties are a given.” As if to prove her point, Megan raised her hands and whispered a chant. Fragments of cement debris rattled on the ground before rising, hovering mid-air. With a sly smile and another whisper, it soared through the air toward Jenna.

  Jenna held up her arms to shield her head, wincing as dozens of cement pieces hit her. Coughing, she straightened as the dust settled, and glared at Megan. Anger flared as she tried to reconcile the girl she’d grown up with to the woman in front of her.

  “What the hell was that for?” Jenna cried.

  “Payback for New Orleans. I should’ve known when you came to us that it was a farce. I trusted you! I thought you were on our side.”