Keeper

by Kim Chance

  I felt the tug of old Lainey on my psyche, the girl who would have accepted Gareth’s words as law without another thought—but I had made my choice and that wasn’t who I wanted to be anymore.

  I stepped out of his hold and looked him square in the face. “I know you’re trying to protect me, but I won’t let you risk your life for me.”

  “It’s not up for discussion.”

  “Like hell it isn’t!” I hadn’t meant to raise my voice, but the words were fuel for my flames. “My mother died sacrificing herself for me. I won’t let you do the same.”

  “This is the only way. We have to act now before it’s too late.”

  “I refuse to believe that. I’m saying no, and I—”

  “ENOUGH!” Gareth roared, his eyes flashing. “That’s enough, Lainey.”

  I stared at him, my chest heaving.

  “You think you understand what’s at stake here, but you don’t know the Master like we do. You don’t know what he’s capable of.” Gareth began to pace again, raking his fingers through his hair. “For years, the black magic in his veins has kept him alive, fueling his malevolence. He kills for sport and tortures his own kind for entertainment. If he gets his hands on you . . .” He whirled to face me. “I need to do this. Please, let me do this for you . . . and for your mother.”

  Tell him no, the voice in my head whispered. There has to be another way. I opened my mouth, my lips already forming the words, but the look in Gareth’s eyes stopped me.

  “Okay,” I finally whispered.

  He didn’t wait for me to change my mind. Instead he moved back over to Serena and they began to discuss the logistics of the plan.

  My entire body was shaking, a physical protest to the whole thing. Tiny arcs of green lightning were sparking from my fingertips again.

  But my mind was made up.

  “Don’t tell me to breathe,” I warned, when I saw Ty looking at my hands.

  “Wasn’t going to,” he responded. Instead, he leaned over and pressed his shoulder against mine in a silent show of support. I bit my lip as an ache bloomed in my chest. It was a nice reminder of something good, even if it lasted only a second—even if my entire world was consumed with chaos.

  “I’m gonna head home and pack a few bags,” Gareth was saying to Serena. “If the Scavengers are as close as you say, I’ll need to leave tonight for our plan to work.”

  “What will you do?” Maggie asked, ever curious. “Where will you go?”

  Gareth shrugged, a half smile on his face, though you could still see the worry painted across his features. “I’ll head toward the neighboring towns and search for my own kind. And I’ll do what I’ve always done—make swords. I’m a bladesmith, after all,” he explained. “And Faerie blades are infused with quite a bit of magic—it’s what makes them so powerful. It should be enough to draw the Scavengers away from here.”

  Maggie’s face must have conveyed some hint of doubt, because Gareth winked at her. “Don’t worry, we Fae are tougher than we look.” He kissed Serena on the cheek and headed for the door without a single glance in my direction. Serena followed him, the murmur of their voices carrying down the hallway.

  Maggie walked over to the couch and sat on my other side. “Hanging in there, Styles?”

  I dropped my head in my hands. “This is never going to work. He’s going to get hurt. How can I let him do this?”

  “How can you not?”

  I sat up, looking at Maggie. “What? You agree with him?” My heart started racing again, and heat flooded through me.

  “Hold on, now, Styles.” Maggie held up her hand. “No need to go all Dark Phoenix on me. All I’m saying is that Gareth has spent his entire life keeping you safe. Don’t you think you owe him a little bit of faith?”

  The words were like a punch to the gut. “I guess I do owe him that.”

  Maggie wrapped an arm around me and pulled me close. “It’s gonna be okay.”

  I sighed. “I hope so . . . but a big part of this plan is contingent on me not drawing attention with my magic. How can I avoid something I have no control over?”

  Maggie didn’t have an answer this time. We sat in uncomfortable silence for several minutes before Ty offered to take us home.

  We walked down the hall and, after saying good-bye to Serena, headed toward Ty’s car. Maggie quickly crawled into the backseat, leaving me alone with Ty outside the car.

  “Can I ask you if you’re okay now?” He grinned.

  I laughed. “Yeah, I guess so, but I honestly don’t know how to answer.” I leaned against the car and looked up at the sky. It was dotted with hundreds of stars, twinkling against the velvet backdrop next to the half-moon shining brightly. It looked so calm and peaceful—the exact opposite of how I felt.

  “You can do it, you know.” Ty’s words were soft but clear.

  “Do what?”

  “Control it.” He seemed to be reading my mind again.

  “Can I, though?”

  “Yes, you can. You just have to believe it.”

  I took a deep breath. “I just . . . I mean . . . they should’ve told me years ago. My powers are the reason we’re in this mess, and if I’d known, I could’ve trained or at least learned how it all works. I wouldn’t be sending my uncle on a death mission just to buy me some time.”

  I frowned. “Now that I know the truth, I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

  “So don’t.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Ride out this plan, but start preparing yourself. Serena said you need training. So, find someone who can train you in magic. Learn not only how to control it, but how to use it.”

  Ty stepped closer and gripped my hand. “You’ll need it if you ever come face-to-face with the Master.”

  The words sent a chill down my spine. I tried to laugh it off. “Isn’t that what Praetorians are for?”

  Ty’s eyes flashed. “Don’t do that. Don’t diminish who and what you are. You’re stronger than you think. You’re a DuCarmont witch. Don’t forget that.”

  The strength of those words filled me, the truth in them ringing true in my heart.

  I nodded. “I won’t.”

  Ty took a step back, breathing deeply. “Good.” Then he stood up straight and crossed his right arm across his chest. “The protection of my hands, my blade, and my life . . . is yours, Lainey Styles. You’re my Calling, and whatever you may face, I will be at your side.”

  The words, so formal and irrevocable, struck a chord within me. My whole soul vibrated as an image of Lancelot taking the oath at King Arthur’s table flashed in my mind.

  Ty’s eyes burned with intensity, and there wasn’t any doubt that he meant every word of his pledge. Any notions of protesting quickly dissipated. I stayed silent, choosing my words. “Thank you,” I said, finally. “Truly.”

  There was a moment when something passed between us, something ancient and binding, and I accepted it, the knowledge that our fates were now entwined. The Praetorian and his Calling.

  “Come on, you guys. I’m aging here!” Maggie called from the backseat, breaking the mood. I rolled my eyes.

  “I guess we better go,” I said. “I need to talk to Gareth before he leaves and somehow figure out how to keep from completely losing my mind while he’s gone.”

  Ty thought for a moment. “A distraction, perhaps? You could go with me to that Halloween thing that I keep seeing signs about at school.”

  “Oh, the carnival.” The tips of my ears blazed. “You mean like a date?”

  Ty chuckled. “Well, we don’t have to call it that if you don’t want to, but yeah.”

  “No,” I said, a little too quickly. “No, a date sounds great. I’d really like that.” I smiled, hoping the blush burning my skin wasn’t visible in the darkness.

  Ty opened the passenge
r side door for me, and I slid into the seat. Maggie was sitting in the backseat grinning from ear to ear, clearly having overheard the exchange outside.

  “Just remember,” she said with a laugh after Ty had climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition, “you’re Wolverine.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “Do you really have to go?” It wasn’t the first time I’d asked, and I was sure it wouldn’t be the last either.

  Gareth looked up from the pile of clothing and supplies he was arranging. “I thought we covered this already.”

  “We did,” I said. “But I’m hoping if I keep asking you, the answer might change.”

  Gareth sighed, came over, and sat next to me on the bed. “Look, I know you think this is a bad idea, but everything’s going to be fine. The plan will work.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You have no way of knowing that.” I balled my hands into fists. “This whole thing could end badly.”

  He offered a small smile, but his eyes narrowed in what looked like sadness. “No,” he said. “You’re just new to this, that’s all. Lainey, Serena and I have been hiding from the Master our whole lives. Every day that we wake up breathing, our death is a possibility.”

  His words were like ice water, dousing the anger and frustration burning inside me. I swallowed. “You must think I’m pretty selfish,” I said. “All I can see is how this affects me, when in reality there’s a much bigger picture here.” I looked down and unclenched my hands. “This is what it’s like for all Supernaturals, isn’t it?”

  Gareth nodded. “I’m afraid so. The Master has Scavengers all over the country watching us. Small uses of magic are typically allowed—Serena’s visions, for example. That type of power rarely entices a Scavenger, but if a Supernatural is doing something that could be seen as a threat to the Master’s power, the Scavengers report it to the Master, and the Guard moves in.”

  “Just like that? Don’t the Supernaturals try to fight back?”

  “Some do,” Gareth replied, “but it’s rare. The Scavengers have one motivation: money. They care about nothing except the cash they make when they deliver someone of value to the Master. If a Supernatural tries to fight back, the Scavengers just call the Guard and wash their hands of the whole thing. Plus, as long as they’re valuable to the Master, they’re safe from his wrath.”

  He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I can understand why the Guard hunt us. They’re corrupted with dark magic. But I’ve never been able to understand the Scavengers. To turn on your own kind like that . . . for nothing but money.” He shook his head in disgust. “It makes me sick.”

  I nodded, not really sure what to say, so I squeezed Gareth’s hand in lieu of words.

  “So,” he continued, “you’re not the only one who understands the severity of the situation. We’ve just gotten used to it, I suppose.”

  “It makes me angry,” I said. “It just doesn’t seem fair. One dude has control issues, and a whole lot of people have to suffer for it.”

  Gareth shrugged. “History is full of people like the Master, people determined to destroy and dominate for no real reason.”

  “Yes, but it isn’t fair. And it isn’t right.”

  “No, it isn’t. But unfortunately, that’s the way the world works.”

  My stomach rolled with nausea. Was that really how the world worked? One man decided that another group of people didn’t deserve to live free, and that was it? There was nothing to be done?

  “Why don’t we fight back? Why don’t the Supernaturals combine their powers or something?”

  “You don’t think we’ve tried?” Gareth shook his head sadly. “Those with enough power to stand against him were exterminated long ago. Now our kind stays hidden, never grouping together to avoid unwanted attention. What can one or two Supernaturals do against soldiers like the Guard? Against the Master himself?”

  “So everyone just stays hidden and hopes the Master doesn’t find them?” I asked. It seemed like no way to live. “That seems so . . . so . . .” I trailed off, not wanting to speak the word out loud.

  “Cowardly?” he finished for me. I nodded.

  “Well,” Gareth sighed again, “perhaps it is, but fear can be a powerful motivator—or a de-motivator in this case. At the end of the day, I think most of us just want to make it through to the next day.” He squeezed my hand. “Most of us have families that we want to keep safe. It just isn’t worth it to declare war on an adversary we have no hope of defeating.”

  “So we just tuck our tails between our legs and run?”

  “We do what we must to survive,” Gareth replied with a shrug of his shoulders, standing and moving back over to his pile of clothes. “Can we ask any more than that?”

  I didn’t reply. I didn’t want to fight with him again right before he left, though I was tempted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. He might be okay with the status quo, but now that this was my fight too, I certainly wasn’t. Was this how all Supernaturals felt? Just sit back and wait for the Guard to come after them? I shook my head. There had to be another way.

  Gareth finished packing the small stack of clothing and toiletries into the duffel bag at the foot of the bed. “Well, I think I have everything I need. I should probably get going.”

  He walked over and wrapped his arms around me. I clung to him, and he to me. Finality seemed to wrap around us in the moment, but I shoved it away with all my might.

  “You have to promise me you’ll be careful,” Gareth said, squeezing me tighter.

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Just, please . . . whatever you do, come back home.”

  “I promise, Lainey Bug,” he whispered against my hair. “I promise.”

  When we broke apart, Gareth walked over to his closet and pulled a small leather sheath from the shelf. I recognized my dagger.

  “I cleaned it for you,” Gareth said as he handed it to me. “And I sharpened the blade, so be very careful. I know we didn’t get to train with it for very long, but it would make me feel better to know that you have it.”

  I took the small scabbard in my hand, running my fingers over the smooth leather. “Thank you. I’ll keep it with me.”

  “Good,” Gareth said, grabbing his duffel from the bed. “Walk me to the door?”

  We walked down the steps in silence, both of us at a loss for words.

  I hugged him one more time and watched as he walked to his truck.

  “You’ll be at Maggie’s till this all blows over, right?” he called out over the open door. I nodded. “Okay, good. I’ll call you when I can. Oh, and Lainey? One more thing.” Gareth smiled. “I love you. You know that, right?”

  I flew down the stairs and into his open arms one last time. “Love you too, Uncle Gareth. . . . Thank you.” There was so much I wanted to say, but I hoped those two little words were enough.

  When Gareth pulled back, his eyes were swimming with tears. “No,” he said. “Thank you.”

  We embraced a moment longer, and then with one more smile, he was in the truck and driving down the dark street.

  I watched until the red taillights of the truck disappeared from view. Trudging back into the house, I headed toward my bedroom to pack my own bag, trying to ignore the terrible feeling gnawing at the back of my mind.

  Everything’s going to be fine. The plan will work. Gareth’s words swam in my head.

  I sure hoped he was right.

  “What about this one?” I held up the sweater for Maggie’s approval.

  “It’s fine, but I think my grandmother has the same one in green.”

  I groaned and threw the sweater over my head where it landed on the pile of already discarded clothes. “That’s it! I’m not going!” I flopped down on Maggie’s bed and covered my face with my arms.

  “Don’t be so dramatic, Styles,” Maggie calm
ly called from the bathroom. “And could you cut that out? I’m trying to put mascara on, and you’re gonna make me poke my eyeball out.”

  I uncovered my face to see the lights in Maggie’s bedroom and bathroom were flickering on and off. Yelping, I jumped to my feet. “Argh, not again!”

  Maggie walked from the bathroom and put her hands on my shoulders. “Relax, Lainey. You have to relax.”

  “I’m trying,” I said through clenched teeth. “But the more I try not to use my magic, the more it keeps happening! The freaking Scavengers could be right outside for all we know!”

  “You’re just nervous. You need to calm down.”

  I sighed. It’d been four days since Gareth left town. I’d spent hours poring over books about magic in Serena’s shop, but the distraction did little to quell my worry. Gareth had called once to let me know he was safe, but that was two days ago. Every time the phone rang and it wasn’t him, my nerves grew more frazzled.

  It didn’t help that Ty was due to pick us up for the carnival in half an hour.

  Date. The very word made me want to crawl under the covers and never come out. I’d been on a few dates before, and I’d had the sporadic boyfriend or two. But this felt . . . different, and it made me ridiculously nervous.

  I groaned and covered my face with one of Maggie’s pillows.

  “It’s just a date, Styles,” Maggie said. “Not an act of congress. It will be fine.” She hopped up and pranced back to the bathroom, fluffing her voluminous curls. “Besides, I’ll be there to back you up. You got this.”

  I let out a breath. “Thank goodness for that.” I’d insisted Maggie come along—using my unstable magic as a feeble excuse for not being alone with Ty—but even her usual perkiness couldn’t alleviate the churning in my stomach.

  “Here,” Maggie said, coming out of the bathroom to pull an off-the-shoulder, midnight-blue sweater from her closet. “Wear this.”

  I took the sweater and threw it on. It hit just below the waistline and sat perfectly across my collarbones. It was exactly the look I’d been hoping for. “How is it that you can dress me better than I can dress myself?”