Jake turned off the ignition and twisted in his seat to face me.
I made a noise of distain. “I despise you.”
His nose crinkled. “The feeling’s mutual, Witch.”
With my guard up, I surveyed our new surroundings. “Where are we?” Without the background noise of the engine and continuous cacophony of the music, my voice came out unexpectedly loud.
“A motel.”
“Yes. Where?”
“Here.”
I grimaced. “Jackass. Are you going to unlock the door or not?” I rattled the handle impatiently.
“We’re going to need to go over a few ground rules first. In a place like this, it’s vital we keep up appearances. That means no troublemaking.”
I stared at him. “What do you mean, keep up appearances? For who?” I glanced at the weather-beaten building. “What is this place?”
“It’s a motel. And it has a certain reputation. I thought it’d be fun for you to get an insight into how things work around these parts. Although if you want to make it out alive,” he lingered on the word and stared pointedly at me, “you’ll need to play along.” He opened his door and stepped out into the cold night air.
I jostled the interior handle again, but my side was still locked. Seconds later, he appeared at my door. He opened it and assisted me out onto the pavement. My legs felt stiff and unsteady from the long car journey and I wobbled a little as I stepped out onto the tarmac.
I recoiled as he took my arm, but he held on loosely, and together we began towards the reception. Our breath misted the air and our quiet footsteps fell in sync as we walked. A gust of wind fluttered through my hair, howling as it dragged through the trees enclosing the motel.
“Elana.”
My breath caught in my throat. There it was again—that soft, murmuring voice, calling my name. The same voice I’d heard in my bedroom the previous night, right before Jake had kidnapped me.
I stopped walking. “Did you hear that?”
Jake, several inches taller than me, looked down to meet my eyes. “Hear what?”
I listened to the whir of the wind. “I heard my name.”
“Oh.” Jake didn’t seem in the least bit concerned. He started walking again, pulling me along with him.
I stumbled alongside him. “I know that voice…” I paused. “Astra?” I called into the night. Was it possible that my mother had tracked us all the way here?
“Elana.”
There it was again! But…was it Astra? I wasn’t so sure anymore. It was hard to tell. The voice was so faint, nothing more than a gentle whisper.
Perhaps it was a police officer—I was a missing person, after all.
“Someone’s here,” I told Jake, matter-of-factly. “They’ve found us. You’d better let me go before the squad cars come.”
“It’s probably the Light Keeper’s call. I told you already, it’s your turn to take over.”
My heart gave an anxious thump. No. Jake didn’t know what he was talking about.
“Look around you,” he added. “There’s no one here but us.”
I squinted as I scanned the parking lot for any sign of life. There was nobody there. But Jake’s reasoning was utterly implausible. More likely this was a symptom of trauma. I was imagining voices. It was my mind playing tricks on me.
“Elana.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and pretended not to hear it.
We stepped through the door to reception, shutting out the wintery gale behind us. It was bright in the lobby—too bright, actually—and the artificial glow stung my eyes. The reception area was bare and damp, with a few plastic chairs lined up against the wall and one long desk positioned at the far end. A man in his twenties peered out at us from behind the desk. He was nervous and jittery, with scruffy red hair and a wiry build. He cowered when he saw Jake, jittering off the scale.
Jake gave a tug on my arm and I followed him towards the desk.
“Room,” Jake demanded huskily, leaning over me and skimming his palm across the desktop.
Hands trembling, the jittery motel keeper reached for a key suspended on the wall behind him. He slid it across the desk to Jake. “T-t-t-t-twelve,” he stuttered. No questions, no request for identification, no talk of money. He didn’t even meet Jake’s eyes.
Jake took the key without a word. He spun around and stalked back outside, letting in a burst of cold air before the door slammed shut behind him.
I didn’t follow.
“Call the police,” I whispered to the motel keeper. “I’ve been kidnapped!”
Jitters stared at me through saucer-shaped blue eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I hissed. “Didn’t you hear me?”
He continued to stare blankly at me.
The guy was obviously scared out of his wits. “Is someone forcing you to stay here? Have you been kidnapped, too?”
He blinked at me.
Of course, I thought. No wonder Jake was so insistent on bringing me here. Jitters is a hostage, too. This is where the hostages are kept.
“They’re blackmailing you, aren’t they?”
Jitters glanced furtively around the empty room.
“Witch!” Jake beckoned to me from outside. His face was pressed against the glass panel in the door and his eyes were narrowed.
I glanced over my shoulder at him, then fleetingly returned my focus to Jitters. “I’m going to help you.” He twitched and jittered in response.
“Witch!” came the annoying voice from outside.
“I’ll find a way to help you,” I told Jitters as I made for the door. “And phone the police,” I called over my shoulder, not caring if Jake heard or not.
Jitters looked on helplessly as I opened the door onto the night.
Jake met me with a judgmental frown. “He won’t call the police. And I’m insulted that you’re all buddy-buddy with him, when you and I have spent the entire day together and I’m yet to get a single pleasant word out of you.”
“He didn’t steal me. And he’s much nicer than you are. He deserves my pleasant words.”
“You met him thirty seconds ago! You don’t even know him.”
I tilted my chin to the air. “I know enough.”
“And what exactly do you know?”
“I know that he’s not you.”
Jake threw up his hands, exasperated. He took my arm and stalked off into the outer corridor of the motel.
The rooms were labeled with numbers painted sloppily onto the chipped blue doors. We stopped at room number twelve. Jake unlocked it and sauntered inside, flipping on the light switch of our new abode.
The walls were stained with mildew and the carpet was worn down to the last fibers. There was one rickety old bed and a couple of tatty armchairs by the window. And no TV.
My jaw dropped in horror. “You are pure evil. And one bed? I hope you don’t expect us to share that?” I wriggled free of him.
Jake busied himself drawing the curtains and pulling the bolt and chain lock across the door. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he said distractedly. “You can have the bed.”
I eyed him suspiciously as he fussed to secure the room. “Are you keeping me in, or are you keeping them out?” I asked, perching on the edge of the bed and trying not to touch anything.
“Both.” He stalked to the window and heaved an armchair beneath it, then planted himself in the seat. Every few seconds he paused to peel back a corner of the curtain and peer outside.
While he was otherwise occupied, I slunk away to the en suite, silently praying that there would be a handy bathroom window to escape from. I opened the door to complete darkness, which didn’t exactly fill me with optimism about my chances of finding a window. I pulled the light switch and my eyes took a moment to adjust. No window. Just cracked floor tiles, plaster peeling from the manila walls, and a rusting square mirror above the sink.
I met my reflection. It was split down the middle by a jagged fracture in the glass.
Two
tired golden eyes stared back at me.
So I wouldn’t be escaping this way. But it wasn’t over yet.
I can have the bed. I deliberated what Jake had said, studying my reflection as though the mirrored version of me might be able to shed some light on things. Did that mean he didn’t intend on sleeping? Because that would pose some fairly major problems with regards to my new getaway plan. I frowned at myself. I needed for Jake to fall asleep. Once he did, I’d steal his keys, figure out how to drive, and get as far away from him as possible. I’d take Jitters with me, too. That’d be my heroic deed. Also, maybe Jitters could drive, which would save me from having to figure it out on my own. Maybe I shouldn’t have ditched so many Driver’s Ed classes. Anyway, it was a fairly foolproof plan, if I did say so myself.
But first I had to get Jake to fall asleep. Well, second, really. First I’d make the most of the complimentary welcome tray in our room.
I toddled back into the room and headed towards the confectionary tray. Jake hadn’t moved; he seemed to be cemented to his chair. Disregarding him, I set the electric kettle to boil. There were a few sachets of breakfast tea, a couple of instant coffees, one herbal tea, and one hot chocolate.
To have a fifty–fifty chance of claiming the only hot chocolate made me positively giddy.
“I’m having the hot chocolate,” I blurted out. “Considering the emotional trauma you’re putting me through, I think it’s the least you can do.”
Jake glanced at me. “What?”
“You can have the herbal tea,” I offered, waving the consolation Chamomile in the air. A poor substitute, I knew.
“What?” He looked appaled. “I don’t want herbal tea. What do you think I am?”
I sighed. “Okay. We’ll share the hot chocolate, then.”
Jake stared at me. His eyes appeared jet black in the low light of the room. “I don’t want hot chocolate either.” He sounded almost insulted.
“Really? Why not?”
“Why would I?”
“Um, I don’t know, maybe because it’s the best of all the hot beverages.” I paused, considering. “Don’t you like chocolate?”
“No.”
I gasped. “You get weirder by the second. What do you want, then?”
“Nothing.” He seemed irritated by the question. “Anyway,” he said, “shouldn’t you be drinking pond water, or frog spawn, or something with a bit more bite? Hot chocolate isn’t exactly witchly.”
“You’re disgusting.” I fished out the hot chocolate packet and tore it open, emptying the powdery contents into a mug. “And stop insinuating I’m a witch.”
“Why? You are a witch, Witch.”
I folded my arms. “If I’m a witch, how come I don’t have magical powers?”
“You probably do.”
I laughed at the ridiculousness. “Don’t you think I’d know about it if I did?”
“Dunno,” he said with a shrug. “Maybe you have them, and you’re just not using them.”
I exhaled. “Okay, so enlighten me, what are my powers?”
“How should I know? I’m not a witch. All I know is, your kind spit out a couple of rhymes and chants, and bam, you’ve got a hex.”
“Hmm…” I tapped my index finger to my lips, deep in thought. “Jake, Jake, Go away, Don’t come back another day. Does that rhyme enough for you?”
He smirked. “Once more with feeling.”
I laughed sourly. “Believe me, the feeling was there.”
“Obviously not enough, because I’m still here.” He flashed me a devilish grin, before returning his attention to the window.
The kettle reached a boil and I poured the steaming water into my awaiting mug. I stirred swiftly, tossed the spoon aside, and strolled over to where Jake was playing sentry.
He peeled back the curtain to look outside, then slowly returned his focus to me. “What do you want?”
I tried to peer through the grimy window. “What are you looking at?”
He watched me strangely as I positioned myself cross-legged on the coffee table in front of his armchair.
“None of your business.”
“Here,” I said, offering the mug to him. “Taste this.” Warm, soothing drink, designed to relax people in a restful slumber… Genius.
He jerked his head away. “Leave me alone.”
“Oh puh-lease!” I scoffed. “If you’d left me alone we wouldn’t be sitting here having this debate in the first place.” I rammed the mug closer to him until he couldn’t shrink back any farther.
With a sullen grimace he relented, accepting the mug and taking the smallest sip. He held it in his mouth for a while, refusing to swallow it.
I waited.
After several melodramatic seconds—honestly, anyone would have thought I’d forced poison down his throat—he swallowed and pulled a face. “Disgusting.”
I laughed in spite of myself. “Liar! You loved it! I can tell.”
He tried to suppress a smile. “No. I hated it.”
“Give it back, then.”
He took another quick mouthful before handing it back. “You witches and your disgusting potions.”
I rolled my eyes.
Jake’s attention returned to the window, but I could tell a grin still tugged at the corner of his lips. “Full moon tonight. There should be some action. There’s bound to be…” He let the curtain fall back down and propped his legs up on the table beside me.
“Full moon? That’s what you said the other night,” I remembered, thinking back to our first interaction outside the dance. He’d warned me that the moon was nearly full. “You told me I shouldn’t be out alone.”
“You shouldn’t.” His foot tapped restlessly on the coffee table.
“Why warn me, though? Why bother telling me that when you knew all along that you were the real danger.”
He glanced to the window again. “I’m not the danger.”
“Why didn’t you take me that night?” I asked. “You had the chance. We were alone outside the community hall. Loud music. No witnesses…”
He smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
I watched him silently. What difference did it make? He had me now. It was a full moon, and I was trapped in a motel in the middle of nowhere.
Although, with a bit of luck, not for much longer.
Jake leaned against the back of the chair while I sipped at my drink. He was relaxed, his eyelids were dropping.
I stifled a yawn. The room, though dilapidated, was surprisingly well-heated. Between that and the lulling effect of the hot drink, I felt my eyelids begin to sink, too.
Stay awake! I scolded myself. Not much longer. Then I’ll have my chance. All I had to do was wait for Jake to fall asleep and then I’d be home free...
I awoke with a jolt. I was still on the coffee table but I was lying down now, draped awkwardly over Jake’s legs. I sucked in my breath, suddenly wide awake with adrenaline.
I vaguely remembered forcing myself to stay awake and watch heavy-eyed Jake as he teetered towards sleep. And then I must have leaned against his legs, just for a moment... And now here I was, partly on the coffee table and partly on Jake. His jeans were rough against my cheek. I felt a flush of embarrassment at the thought that he could quite possibly have woken up to see me using his shins as a pillow, happily dreaming while I should have been executing my foolproof escape.
Through the darkness of the room I could see the shadowed contours of his face, lit by the stream of moonlight slinking through a gap in the curtains. He slept undisturbed, one arm strewn casually above his head to rest on the back of the armchair while the other was slumped across his stomach.
I didn’t dare move.
Stupid, stupid, stupid! I berated myself. What sort of escapee takes a nap at such a vital escaping time? I could have missed my chance. I’d been lucky to wake up when I did. I had to be careful, though; one wrong move could ruin everything.
Trying my hardest to keep my limbs motionless, I scanned
the room until my eyes landed on Jake’s keys. He’d discarded them on the windowsill, and they were within reach. All I had to do was get up without disturbing him.
Okay.
Very slowly I moved my legs first, slipping them off the table until my feet touched the carpet. Jake didn’t stir. I fell still again, waiting for some time to pass before I made my next move. I listened to Jake’s breathing, deep and steady, in and out. Then, in the gentlest way possible, I eased myself upright, holding my breath. Silently, I rose to my feet and looked down at Jake.
Interesting. When sleeping soundly, he could almost pass as innocent. His features were nice—he had a natural tousle to his brown hair, a straight nose with the tiniest scar on the bridge, and a shadow of a smile as he peacefully dreamed. He looked handsome—if a little wild—and I’d have probably been into him if I didn’t know how crazy and annoying he was.
Leaving him behind, I tiptoed across the room, swiping his keys from the windowsill as I went. I noiselessly opened the door let myself out into the bracing night.
I’d done it!
Heart pounding in exhilaration, I sprinted along the outer corridor of the motel and into the parking lot. It was empty—no mobsters or thugs, anyway. On the far side I could see the bright lights of the reception.
Jitters.
I had to get him out, too.
I pelted across the gravel yard and flung open the door to the reception area. He looked at me blankly. “Come with me,” I said breathlessly. “I’m getting us out of here.”
Silence.
O-kay.
It wasn’t as though I was implementing the rescue for the glory or anything, but it was my big heroic moment, and, well, I guess I wanted him to care more. But he didn’t seem to care at all. He just stood there, jittering.
Maybe he was still in shock. “Follow me! I’m saving you!” I reached out to him, beckoning him to join me.
He backed against the wall, cringing. The room keys hanging from the wall jangled as he cowered amongst them.
The Light Keeper Page 4