I blushed involuntarily.
“Ouch,” I said, trying to remain unaffected by the flash of his skin and toned torso. I hesitated and looked up to meet his eyes. “Do you get in fights with werewolves, um, often?”
Jake dropped his T-shirt, letting the material fall back over the old wound. “Now and again. That one was the worst, though.” He patted the spot where the scar was. “Brutal. The damn thing wouldn’t let go.” He frowned at the memory. “It happens sometimes, when the werewolf side takes over. In cases like that, you know there’s nothing left of the human anymore. That’s usually when they ask me to step in.”
“They? As in the same they who sent you after me?”
He snapped his fingers. “Now you’re catching on.”
“So what did you do?” I asked, twisting in my seat to face him. “When the werewolf bit you, I mean.”
“Well,” Jake began, becoming animated as he recounted his tale, “it held on for what must have been ten minutes—which is a long time when you’ve got a beast using your body as a chew toy. I thought my number was up, you know? And that bugged me, because I hate to lose.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “Anyway, eventually I managed to pry its jaws off me and I got it with a silver bullet. That’s about the only way you can take out a werewolf.” He glanced at me again, his expression serious now. “You might need to know that one day.”
I took some time to absorb this, fiddling with my bracelet while I dissected his words.
“You do that a lot, you know,” said Jake in a wry tone.
“What, fight werewolves?” I tried to joke.
“No.” He nodded towards my wrist. “That.”
I glanced down at my charm bracelet. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. There was only one charm hanging from the silver links, a tiny yellow sun, and playing with it was a nervous habit.
“My mom gave me this bracelet on my thirteenth birthday,” I explained, gazing sentimentally at the faded sun charm. “At the time, I thought it was the greatest thing ever. I haven’t taken it off since.” I held the sun between my index finger and thumb and studied it. “It reminds me of her.”
Jake listened carefully. For a second it looked as though he was about to say something, but he stopped himself.
I let the charm fall back onto my wrist. “Are there any werewolves in the Hidden Mountains?”
“Hell yeah, there are werewolves!” Again Jake laughed at my naivety, and any tenderness in the mood disolved. “And plenty worse, too! But you should be alright on High Peak. Nothing goes up there; the air’s too thin for anything to breathe.”
I swallowed. “Then how do you expect me to go up there?”
“You’ve got that special blood.” He winked at me. “That one-in-a-million kind of juice that makes you this century’s only eligible candidate.”
That was the second time that Jake had mentioned my blood. I concentrated on the air flowing in and out of my lungs. Was I really any different from everybody else? I didn’t feel any different.
“What about you?” I said. “If I’m the only one who can breathe on High Peak, how will you get me there?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “My superiors seem to think I’ll be alright for an hour or two.”
“How long will I last?” I ventured, even though I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to know the answer.
“Ah, you’ll be fine. It won’t make any difference to you—you’re built to survive up there. You’re straight from the bloodline. All I’ve got is willpower.”
“So that’s it, then.” I let out an angry breath. “You’re going to abandon me at the highest point of those creepy mountains and expect me to fight…things?”
“No,” Jake assured me, laughing again. “You won’t fight demons.”
My head spun, jumbled with confusing snippets of information. It was like trying to put together a jigsaw puzzle when none of the pieces seemed to fit.
“You’re the Light Keeper,” Jake reminded me—as though that made everything clearer. “You belong to the Hidden Mountains.”
“I don’t!” I protested. “I don’t know anything about demons.”
“You won’t have to. The only thing you need to worry about is getting there. Everything else will be taken care of. It’ll all make sense once you’re there.”
“And what if it doesn’t?”
“You’re missing the point. This—being the Light Keeper—it’s not something you have to learn, or practice, it’s just you. It’ll just…happen.”
“What, like, how supposedly I’m a witch?” I scoffed.
“You are a witch.”
“No, what I am is running away as soon as I get chance,” I told him.
He smiled. “No, you won’t.”
“Yes, I will.”
“No,” he said. “You won’t.”
“I will.”
“Okay,” he conceded, “but you won’t get far.”
We lapsed into an uneasy silence. I knotted my hands together and gazed out the window at the lush green hills. It didn’t matter what Jake thought. All I knew was that I had to get out of that car and back home where I belonged. I didn’t want any part of this. And I would get away.
I just needed to be cleverer about it.
“I need a bathroom break.”
Jake exhaled loudly and rolled his eyes.
We’d been on the road for a while. I wasn’t familiar with this area, but I knew enough to know that it was scattered with small towns set back from the main road. And where there were towns, there were people. Or so I hoped.
“We could stop in the next town,” I suggested. “I’ve seen a few signposts already. There’s bound to be another one coming up soon.”
Jake sighed again, which I took to be weary acceptance. I smiled to myself and kept my eyes peeled for signposts.
We stumbled upon the next one sooner than I’d anticipated. Fallows Edge, it read in large lettering. There was an arrow pointing right. I alerted Jake to it, and reluctantly he took the exit.
The turnoff led us along a steep, wooded road that wound into the town’s own little secluded haven. We passed a few ranch-style houses but forged on, following the signs for the town center. The trees had been cut back here, making way for somewhat urbanized streets.
A light dusting of rain began to fall, spattering our windscreen as we drove through the quiet settlement. Everything seemed damp here—overcast and dreary. But it was civilization, and that filled me with optimism.
Once we’d reached the more developed part of Fallows Edge, Jake pulled up to the curb and parked neatly in an empty space. Across the street was a diner named Old Pete’s. The red awning was up, sheltering an outdoor seating area. Although there was no one sitting outside, I could see people seated indoors at the window tables.
I twisted around to face Jake.
He raised his eyebrows. “Go, then,” he said impatiently, ushering me away. “Shoo.”
I gawped at him, staggered for a moment. Was he seriously going to let me go in on my own? I hadn’t expected this to be so easy. But if he insisted…
I untangled my limbs from the seatbelt and almost tripped over myself in my rush to get out of the car. With Jake still relaxing in the driver’s seat, I made a dash for the diner. The air was wet and cold, and when I ducked through the door to the restaurant, a burst of warmth welcomed me.
I took stock, scanning my new surroundings. There was a dining section beyond the hostess desk and Please Wait To Be Seated sign. In the restaurant, a heavily made-up girl dressed in a waitress’s uniform glanced over at me briefly, then resumed giggling flirtatiously with a middle-aged bearded man seated at one of the tables.
Clearly I wouldn’t be getting much help from her. I decided to go straight to the bar area instead. Here, a counter looped around in a semi-circle and backed onto what appeared to be the kitchen. There were stools at the bar but they were all empty. One large, bald man in a chef’s jacket stood behind the co
unter polishing a tankard.
“I need to use your phone,” I said breathlessly, almost flinging myself onto the bar in my haste. “It’s an emergency.”
He scrutinized me, looking me up and down, unimpressed. “What’s your emergency?” he asked in a gruff voice.
“I need to call the police,” I explained. “I’ve been kidnapped.”
“Oh, yeah?” The corners of his mouth turned upwards in a mocking sneer. “So where’s your kidnapper?”
“In the car, waiting for me.” I glanced over my shoulder to the road beyond the diner windows. Jake was out of the El Camino now, leaning against the door with his head tilted up to the grey clouds.
I grimaced. If he looked my way, I’d be toast. I didn’t have time to stand around pleading my case. Perhaps if I’d come in crying, hamming it up, I thought in hindsight. Although surely using the word ‘emergency’ was clue enough.
The man lumbered over to the serving hatch behind him and began talking to someone in the kitchen. Not about me and my emergency, though.
I cleared my throat.
He glanced back at me with a lazy smile.
“Phone?” I prompted.
“Payphone.” He thumbed towards the back of the diner where the restrooms were. “You’ll need to buy a phone card if you want to use it.”
“But I don’t have any money!”
He gave a deep belly laugh. “Now why doesn’t that surprise me? You damn high school kids, coming in here, splitting a Coke between five of you, hanging out all day taking up tables and scamming freebies—”
I blinked at him in confusion. “I’ve never even been here before! I’m not from around here.”
He plodded back toward the counter and looked me square in the eyes. “You think I’m stupid? You were here last week.”
“This must be a case of mistaken identity,” I said calmly. “I’m not trying to take up tables or split Cokes. All I need is your phone. It’s very important.” I spoke slowly, as though explaining something to a five-year-old.
“Buy the phone card or get out.”
“Can I speak to your manager?”
That didn’t go down well. His face took on the look of thunder. It was safe to assume that he was the Pete of Old Pete’s.
I cast a glance back at Jake. The rain had begun to settle on his hair, weighing down the strands and darkening their hue. For a brief moment, I actually felt sorry for him. He looked tired and world weary. For better or worse, he was determined to get me to the Hidden Mountains—and I felt irrationally guilty that I was about to ruin his plans. Then I remembered his plans were psychopathic and he didn’t deserve my sympathy.
I returned my focus to the heavyset man behind the bar. “I’ll be right back,” I told him, then made my retreat.
Outside the diner, I stood beneath the awning and waved to Jake.
“Ready?” he called to me from across the street.
“Not quite,” I called back. “Can I borrow some money?”
He frowned. “Why?”
“I don’t know. Girl stuff.” I was hoping that it was the sort of response that didn’t invite any further questioning.
Jake looked sufficiently discomfited. He dug through his jeans pocket for his wallet, then lobbed the leather slip across the street. It soared through the air towards my awaiting hands.
I missed it.
It skimmed past my fingers and hit the diner window with a thud.
We both winced.
Through the glass I could see my new friend Pete gritting his teeth.
“Sorry,” I mouthed to him.
I retrieved the missile wallet from the ground and returned inside. But on my way back to the bar, I was intercepted at the hostess station by the waitress I’d seen earlier. Her platinum blond hair was piled atop her head, crisp with product.
“How many?” she asked in a bored tone.
My brow creased. “How many what?”
“How many people,” she elaborated with a scowl. Evidently my question had irritated her greatly. I was not doing well at Old Pete’s.
“No people. I’m not stopping. I just need to speak to…” I gestured to Pete. “That guy.”
She fixed me with an emotionless stare. “I can’t allow you into the restaurant area unless you’ll be dining with us here at Old Pete’s.”
“B-but... I—” I floundered for words. “I was just here.” I tried to appeal to her, but she didn’t blink, or smile, or show any reaction whatsoever. She was a total cyborg. Cyborg Barbie.
“You can’t be in the restaurant area unless you plan on dining with us here at Old Pete’s,” she repeated, blocking my path.
I exhaled loudly. “Okay,” I submitted. “Table for one.”
“There are no tables for one available. We only have booths free now.”
“Then why did you ask?”
She ignored my comment. “Is it just yourself dining with us today?” she asked in a monotone.
“Yes. I am the one.”
“Follow me.” She picked up a menu from the hostess table and whirled on her heel.
I trailed behind as she strutted across the diner, leading me to a booth by the window as far away from the bar as possible.
“Here,” she said, gesturing for me to sit down.
I snatched the menu and used it to cover my face. I couldn’t let Jake catch sight of my sudden inhabitation of a booth.
Escaping was hard work.
“Can I get you any drinks?” Cyborg Barbie asked, staring into the vacant space above my head.
“Water, please.”
Apparently that riled her, because her cyborg eyes blazed. “You know the rules,” she hissed. “No free drinks. I told you that the last time you were in here.”
I didn’t know the rules. Clearly my Fallows Edge doppelganger had been running around town giving my face a bad name. But I didn’t have time to argue.
I checked Jake’s wallet. He had money.
“Coffee, then,” I changed my order.
Cyborg Barbie grimaced and marched away. Of course she managed to flash adorable smiles to the other customers as she passed them. The men-folk, anyway.
Right. Back to the plan. I slid out from my booth and scuttled over to the bar. Pete was waiting for me at the counter.
“You ordered?” he asked curtly.
“A coffee,” I told him. There were pastries and tartlets in the glass cabinets along the worktop, so I decided to sweeten him with a compliment. “The pie looks nice,” I added. It didn’t.
“You got money now?”
“Yes.” I waved Jake’s wallet for him to see.
“Your kidnapper gave you that, did he?”
I sensed I was being mocked.
“Yes, actually, he did,” I replied haughtily. So maybe this wasn’t the most conventional of kidnappings. Who was he to judge?
“You still want to buy a phone card?”
“Yes.”
He slapped a small plastic card on the counter and held out his hand for payment. We exchanged money, but as I turned around, elated, I was met with the disheartening sight of Jake standing at the hostess station. Cyborg Barbie—miraculously reformed into a charismatic damsel—was tending to him. Actually, she was fawning over him, giggling and wrapping loose tendrils of hair around her index finger. And he was lapping it up, basking in the attention.
Moron.
He saw me around the same time I saw him. Our expressions painted entirely opposite pictures, however. His was happy; he waved and grinned. Mine was horrified, and my heart sank.
Cyborg Barbie’s face mirrored mine when she noticed how pleased Jake was to see me. If she’d disliked me before, I could state with absolute certainty that she hated me now. Little did she know that Jake’s intentions towards me were more sinister than sincere.
He uttered something to her, and she forced a tight smile as she guided him to my booth. I slipped the phone card into my pocket and resignedly crossed the diner to join them.
/>
“There’s my girl,” Jake said as I slid into the booth opposite him.
Cyborg Barbie gave me the evil eye. “You said you were dining alone.” She slammed a second menu down on the table.
“I thought I was,” I replied stiffly.
Jake, oblivious to the tension, smiled charmingly up at our waitress. “I’ll have whatever she’s having.” He reached across the booth and grabbed the wallet from my hands. He took a note from the slip and tossed it onto the table. “Keep the change,” he told her with a wink.
This seemed to appease her, and her full lips formed a seductive pout. “I’ll have whatever she’s having, too,” she purred, directing a leopard-print manicured fingernail towards me without taking her eyes off Jake.
Apparently I’m having a life of misery, I noted. Keep the change.
Satisfied, she sashayed off towards the kitchen with our order.
I scowled at Jake. “Why did you tip her? She’s been awful. I’d go so far as to say that this place has the worst service ever.”
“I thought she was nice.”
“To you, maybe.”
“Exactly.” He turned his palms skyward. “So I tipped.”
I slouched in my seat. This was dire. How was I supposed to get to the payphone without Jake noticing? “I thought you were waiting for me outside.”
“You were taking too long. Anyway, you could have told me you were stopping for food. You’re not the only one with a stomach, you know.”
“It was hardly planned. I didn’t have much choice in the matter—your new girlfriend forced me into it.”
Jake grinned.
We fell quiet again as our evil waitress reappeared with a pot of coffee, a small jug of cream, and two mugs. She set down the mugs and filled them with steaming tar-like liquid.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” she directed to Jake. Since she’d been gone, she’d managed to apply an additional layer of crimson lipstick and possibly an entire bottle of perfume.
I coughed at the fumes.
“And your pie is on its way,” she added smoothly.
It appeared that Old Pete had cashed in on my offhanded pie compliment. Color me shocked.
The Light Keeper Page 6