The Last Keeper's Daughter

by Rebecca Trogner

  “With the Elder’s ring,” Lucien continued. “I’m told you were a detective.”

  Hunter nodded.

  “Good,” he said, and went back to his conversation with Liam.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Meirta relax. What if Lucien hadn’t liked him?

  “I think I know what this opens,” Lily said.

  The curiosity was killing him. “What?”

  The king pulled out a chair for her. Lily was clearly shaken but sat up straight and talked in a clear voice. “My mother’s room.”

  Hunter had grown to respect Lily. He could see that she was trying hard to be brave. That she was terrified. Her arms crossed tight over her chest, giving herself comfort. He found it telling, that Lily referred to her father as Walter, but Marissa, a woman she had never known, she called Mother.

  The king placed his hands on her shoulders. “We can talk about this later.”

  “No, I’m tired of being afraid.” Lily half turned to look up at the king. “I need to talk about this. To know what happened.”

  The king nodded to her. Hunter watched Lucien’s reaction to Lily. He took a step closer to her. Hunter was almost afraid he’d reach out and grab her just to make sure she was real.

  “Mother had her own suite of rooms on the side wing of the house. After she died he locked the door.”

  Hunter’s instincts were trying to tell him something, he just didn’t know what. He thought back to the day before Walter’s ceremony. He and a few guards had gone to the Ayres’ cemetery. He’d walked down the paths which fanned out from a small lake looking at each memorial. There had been no gravesite for Marissa Ayres. “Your mother, she’s not in the family cemetery.”

  Lily looked up at him. “No.”

  “Is your mother buried someplace else?” Hunter asked.

  Lily shook her head.

  “Doesn’t that seem strange? From what I understand Walter never recovered from her death, and yet there is no memorial to her?”

  “I don’t know, maybe.” She sat back. “He would disappear for days in her rooms. It was sad seeing the lights on.” Lily sat on her hands. “I was never allowed in the rooms. I don’t think Martha ever went in them either. It was something Walter did alone. We just didn’t talk about it.”

  “Wait, you’re saying that Walter still went in there.”

  Lily nodded.

  A chill slithered its way up Hunter’s spine.

  “There is nothing further to be done for now.” Merlin looked at Hunter. “You understand that Lily is upset and needs some time.”

  “I do, better than most,” Hunter said. “I just have one more question.”

  Lily looked up and met his eyes.

  “Why are you so sure that this key opens the door to her suites?” He held it up by the ribbon ends. “It could go to anything.”

  Her eyes avoided looking at the key. “When I saw you holding the key like that it triggered something. I remember Walter holding it just so, dangling it in front of me. I think we were standing in front of the door.” Her eyes closed. “I’m sure this is the same key.”

  “You said you were never in the rooms. Why would Walter show you the key?”

  “I don’t know.” She hunched forward. “He wants me to go there. I know it. Something’s in there.” She turned around, looking up at the king. “It’s important. We have to go.”

  “Or it’s nothing, a coincidence. Walter doesn’t sound exactly stable of mind.” Hunter nodded towards the king. “He saw you before he left. He could have told you. Why these elaborate cat and mouse games? And this revenant, who does he belong to?” He looked at Lily. “The visions you see of the man. Maybe this is all a diversion from the bigger problem.”

  Lucien looked at the key for a moment and then went back to staring at Lily. “There’s only one way to find out.”

  “I don’t like it. Everything revolves around Lily’s interpretation of the clues.” Hunter should have stopped there, but he wasn’t thinking before speaking. “The Elder is gone. The Legacy Foundation blown to bits. Walter was involved in something far more dangerous than deciphering old texts. This feels like a trap to me. What would happen if you were killed?” Hunter looked at the king. “There could be a bomb inside Lily’s home, maybe placed there years ago.”

  “Enough,” the king snarled.

  “No, he’s right.” Lily patted the king’s hand, probably saving Hunter from decapitation.

  “That was insensitive of me, I’m sorry.” Hunter sincerely meant his words.

  “It’s true, though,” Lily agreed. “Walter is using me for some purpose. I don’t know why these memories are coming back now. Why I don’t remember more?”

  “I think we’ve done enough for the night. Detective, if you and Meirta would follow me.” Merlin walked towards the door.

  They walked out, the doors closed shut behind them, and two guards stepped in place. Meirta twined her fingers with his and pulled him out into the garden. The sun had set, but there was a lingering light unwilling to succumb to the darkness.

  “Who is he?” Hunter didn’t feel the need to elaborate any further.

  “Lucien Black,” she said quietly. “He’s a slayer.”

  “Like Buffy.” He laughed, but she did not.

  “No.” She gave him a look.

  “You’re afraid of him.”

  “Yes, and if you have half a brain, you’ll be very careful around him.”

  “Why?”

  “Sometimes you are so dense.” She gave him a serious look, and then slowly started to smile. “You’re such a goof. The king metes out punishment, but when he can’t, or he needs something done covertly, he calls Lucien.”

  She was telling him what his gut already had. They walked in silence for a few minutes, and then she spoke again. “Did you see the Dragon?”

  He glanced at her.

  “His sword.”

  “His sword has a name.” Hunter decided not to say what he thought about men who named their swords.

  “It’s the Dragon Sword. The bladed was forged with magic and can kill anything.”

  “Vampire?”

  “Anything,” she repeated.

  Hunter added another thing to steer clear of.

  “Will you stay?” she asked.

  He looked at her, but she didn’t return his gaze. If he wanted, he could always return to England. Or stay in the States and rebuild his family home in Plymouth. True to his word, the Elder had deposited a large sum of money in his account. He would never have to work again. His mind kept up the back-and-forth volley until they reached the front drive.

  He asked what had been bugging him from the beginning. “If I choose to leave will I be murdered, or lobotomized, or disappear?”

  She stopped and cupped his face between her strong hands. “Why would you think that?”

  “How else will you keep this all a secret?”

  When she laughed, her eyes sparkled like confetti filtering down from the sky on a sunny day. “What if you did scream from every rooftop about us, or go on the internet and start a blog, or whatever those obnoxious things are called? Would anyone truly believe you?”

  He shook his head. “No, they’d think I was crazy.”

  “Exactly. If you want to leave there is nothing holding you back.” She let her hands drop from his face.

  “Do you want me to go?”

  Her answer was immediate. “No.”

  “Is there a special someone of your own kind out there?”

  “Are you asking if I have a mate?”

  “Yes.”

  “My own kind is very rare. I only know of two other Minders.”

  “Your parents were human, just plain human?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t understand how that could happen. It’s medically impossible for two human parents to …” He stopped himself from saying, ‘have a strange creature like you.’ Instead he asked, “Then how did you end up with the Elder?”

/>   “Can we discuss it another time?”

  He nodded. “I hate to leave a case unsolved.”

  She smiled. “It wouldn’t be very professional of you to leave now.”

  He ran his hand up the side of her thigh. “I’m nothing if not professional.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Who is he?” Hunter asked, looking towards the alcove.

  Krieger acknowledged the bows of his subjects as they walked by, and noted their interest in the detective. “The Ancient,” he replied.

  Hunter walked around the marble statue in the castle’s great hall. Throughout were conversation areas with comfortable seating. Lily and the Ancient were talking in a quiet alcove to Krieger’s left. There were only a handful of Ancients alive, and only two known to be awake. Merlin said he was over twenty thousand years old, and his facial structure indicated this was true, because it was thicker of brow than that of a modern man. Luckily the Ancients did not concern themselves with politics and preferred to remain in the wild areas of the world.

  “Who are they?” Hunter admiringly ran his hand along the smooth marble thigh of Euphrosyne.

  “The Three Graces.”

  “Beautiful.” Hunter looked around at the other statues. “Why are some painted?”

  “The Greeks and Romans preferred their statues to look lifelike.” Krieger liked the curious of mind, and the detective was more inquisitive than most. At the moment, though, he’d prefer the detective to be more on point.

  “Ah.” Hunter walked around the Three Graces. “I like this one.”

  “As do I.” Krieger leaned against the back of a couch watching Lily and the Ancient. Hunter admired another statue. “Marcus Aurelius,” Krieger answered the unasked question.

  “Did you know him?” Hunter asked. Krieger shook his head. “But you were alive then.”

  “I was.” Krieger’s heard Lily’s laugh; something the Ancient had said amused her.

  Hunter tipped his head back to look up at the dome before turning to Krieger. “Have you been to St. Peter’s Basilica?” Krieger nodded. “I never thought to see a more beautiful space, until I came here.”

  Krieger nodded his acknowledgement. “Our mystery woman, do you know her identity?”

  “No, and I doubt we will.” Hunter sat, his eyes still roaming over the space’s artwork. “Nina remembers nothing before she woke in the infirmary. She has no distinctive markings, except for what’s on her wrist, to narrow her origin. Oh, and the cross, I thought it was a tattoo, but it isn’t. A generic waterproof marker you could buy anywhere was used. I’ve run searches through all missing person databases, mental hospitals, even checked newly released inmates, but it’s all a dead end. The good news is she does have basic knowledge and writes in English.”

  “Nina,” Krieger repeated the name. “I’m assuming Merlin gave her that name.”

  “Yes, he’s been a great help. The keepers’ murders and Nina, they should be related, but I’m not so sure.”

  Nor am I.

  “The two don’t fit. The keepers were ripped apart and fed from.” Hunter shook his head and stood next to Krieger. “Do revenants have fangs?”

  He looked down at the detective, only because of their difference in height, trying to decipher where he was going with this question. “No. A revenant’s teeth will become sharp, but they do not have two distinctive fangs like a vampire.”

  “Would you mind?” Hunter started walking towards the long wall which fed into the hallway, lined with paintings.

  Krieger humored him as it suited his desire to be closer to Lily and the Ancient. The two of them were speaking of something serious, if Lily’s expression was any indication.

  “This one.” Hunter turned his head to the right, and asked, “Who painted this one?”

  “Vermeer.”

  Hunter repeated the name. “Vermeer. Dutch, right?” Krieger nodded. “What’s it called?”

  “The Concert.”

  “The light.” Hunter turned his head slightly while he studied the painting. “I feel like I could walk right into that room.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. It was his turn to ask questions. “Why did you ask about a revenant’s teeth?”

  Still looking at the painting, Hunter replied, “As you know, bite marks were found on the three keepers’ bodies. The doctor and I examined Winston’s body and also found fang marks. I reviewed the crime scene photos and found fang marks on Walter and Gibson. Nina had no bites and no fang marks.” Hunter went to look at the next painting. “The symbol on Nina’s wrist, the Brotherhood, I found some unsolved cases in the database that had that same marking at crime scenes. All of those cases had fang marks and the victims were exsanguinated.”

  Krieger nodded.

  “None of the unsolved cases were mutilated like Nina. The doctor ran a toxicology screen on her and found no drugs in her system.” He leaned forward to inspect another painting, and then pointed. “Is that a man or a woman?”

  “Man.” Krieger inwardly smiled at Hunter. “The person who killed the keepers and whoever did that to Nina, they are likely unknown to each other.”

  “Perhaps.” Hunter stood and stretched. “Someone wanted Nina here. I just don’t know why.” He shrugged. “Meirta used her ability on Nina.” Krieger’s eyebrow rose. “Meirta didn’t pick up anything threatening. She said it was like her mind was wiped clean of memories. All her thoughts were of immediate things.”

  With his peripheral vision, Krieger watched Lily say goodbye to the Ancient. She was smiling when she walked up to them.

  “So what were you two talking about?” she asked.

  “Artwork,” he replied.

  “The king was showing me some of his treasures.” Hunter backed up. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to Meirta.” He turned and left.

  Lily looked up at him. “Were you really talking about art?”

  “Of course. The detective has an agile mind.” He leaned down and kissed her lightly on the lips. “I’m surprised you enjoy the Ancient’s company.”

  Lily smiled. “I was a little afraid of him at first, but he told me the funniest story about Paris, and we just started talking.”

  Krieger wanted to know more, but let it go for now. The Ancient rarely spoke with anyone. He’d only spoken with him a few times, and yet he sought out Lily’s company.

  “Are you ready?”

  “You’re sure?” Lily looked up at the late afternoon light filtering down from the center of the dome.

  “I’m sure.” He guided her out of the great hall and down a hallway which led to the elevators. “By the time we get to the restaurant it will be dusk.”

  “And you’ll be okay with Martha and Jo there?”

  Krieger encouraged her into the elevator. “There is no need to worry.” When the doors opened, they stepped into the underground garage. He loved automobiles and had been collecting since the beginning. “What carriage does my lady desire?” he asked, smiling.

  Lily looked around and pointed towards the Aston Martin. “That one.”

  The drive was short. The restaurant was housed in what was once an old tavern that sat along the main thoroughfare in Upperville. He’d visited there in the late 1700s, but not since. Liam and two of his pack were waiting for them to arrive in the small gravel parking lot.

  “They look nice.” Lily said, referring to the Vantors. “Oh, Martha and Jo are already here, I see Martha’s car.” She leaned into the space between the seats. “You’re sure?”

  He didn’t answer, but kissed her instead. “What about not eating?” she asked, between kisses.

  “I can drink wine,” he assured her.

  Krieger could feel her apprehension as they walked up the restaurant path. He had to dip his head down to go through the doorway. Inside it looked basically like it had before, except now there was electricity. Lily’s nerves evaporated as she moved ahead and to the right, where there was a private room. A bar was in the center of the old structure wi
th a large dining area to the left. He could smell the remnants of pipe smoke which had soaked into the wooden beams.

  “Liam, you stay with us.” Krieger looked at the other two Vantors. “You remain at the bar.”

  “Mr. Barnes,” Martha said with a smile.

  “Krieger,” he corrected her, and looked to Jo. “It’s nice to see you again. This is Liam, a business associate of mine.”

  Drinks were ordered, dinner was served and eaten, and as he’d assured Lily, no one noticed that he didn’t partake of any food. He sat back and enjoyed watching Lily, knowing she was happy. Liam was also enjoying the view of Jo, and from the way her eyes dilated when she looked at him, the feeling was mutual.

  “Are you sure you want to do that?” Jo asked Lily, eating the last bite of her dessert.

  Martha scooted her chair next to Jo. “There’s no point in Lily living in that behemoth. It would be just the two of us roaming around.”

  Jo took a sip of coffee. “I know, I know. It’s just that Waverly is so beautiful.” She gave Krieger an accusatory look. “I hate to think of it all closed up.”

  “Mr. Barnes–” Martha smiled and corrected herself, “Krieger, did you know Waverly was built by a robber baron?”

  “No, I did not know that,” he lied.

  “Yes, he was deliciously decadent in building Waverly. Nothing was spared to make her the crown jewel of the mountain.” Martha clearly enjoyed the story and that it was making Jo smile. “He made his fortune in the railroad business, bought the property, and probably the young wife.” She laughed, and so did he. “And set about building the biggest, most beautiful castle for her.”

  “He accomplished his goal, then.” Krieger smiled at Lily.

  “It’s said his wife and a group of friends visited the house only once,” Martha continued. “After all that work and money and they only stayed once. Strange. But then an Ayres bought it, and the rest as they say, is history.”

  What Martha couldn’t know was that the young wife had poisoned the old robber baron. Before his body was cold, she’d sold the house which she detested.

  “You aren’t going to sell it?” Jo asked.

  “No,” Lily shook her head. “Never.”