Keeper

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Keeper Page 29

by Kim Chance


  “We need to get out of here now,” Zia said, grabbing my hands and yanking me to my feet. “He’s sent the Guard after us, and we’re not prepared for a battle.”

  Zia motioned the linebacker forward and turned to me. “Julian will get you and your friend here to safety.”

  I nodded and leaned over to squeeze Maggie’s hand. She looked as nervous and unsure as I felt.

  There was another chorus of howls, closer this time and more frenzied.

  “We go now,” Zia ordered.

  Julian gave me a tentative smile. “Ma’am,” he said, politely, “you’re gonna want to hold on tight.”

  I shook my head and allowed him to pull me close. He did the same for Maggie, and we were both pressed against his chest as if he were giving us a giant bear hug. I reached around and locked my own arms around his waist as best I could, gripping her wrists. Maggie did the same. Beside us, Serena and Blake were wrapped in a similar embrace next to Zia and Morgan.

  “I’ll count to three,” Julian said, his voice low. “It will be disorienting and scary for you, since it’s your first time, but I’ve got you. Just don’t let go. Are you ready?” He waited for the confirmation from Maggie and me. “Good. Here we go, then. One.”

  I’ve got you. The words sent of jolt of pain through me. Ty’s face appeared in my thoughts, and pain lanced through me, but I blinked, forcing my mind to go blank.

  “Two.”

  I took one last look at the pillar of smoke, sucked in a deep breath, and squeezed my eyes shut.

  “Three.”

  There was a strange tingling sensation, and then it was as if we’d been thrown backward out into nothingness. The cool breeze whipped my hair in my face, and the sensation that we were free-falling made my stomach flip-flop. I bit back a cry, but Maggie was squealing loudly, the sound making my eardrums ring. Then there was a strong jerk, and I was wrapped in a swirling vortex of color and wind. I screamed then, unable to stop it this time, and buried my face in Julian’s broad chest.

  Moments later, I hit the ground hard, knocked from Julian’s arms and onto the ground. I looked around but had no idea where we were. It looked like an abandoned patch of highway.

  “Up you go,” Julian said, pulling me to my feet. There was a van parked on the shoulder, hidden in the shadows of the trees. Zia motioned us forward.

  Julian tugged at my hand, towing Maggie and me toward the vehicle.

  More of the fog in my head was dissipating, and as more and more images became clear, the more pain I felt surging through me. By the time we made it to the car, I was barely hanging on.

  “Here,” Zia said, reaching into the back of the van. “You’ll want to get out of those clothes.” She pulled several pairs of dark clothing from a bag and handed them to us.

  Then she whistled and the men quickly turned around, giving us some privacy. Maggie and Serena immediately began to change, eager to be free of the ball gowns.

  I rubbed my hand over the fabric. The dark green pants and white cotton tank top were worn but clean. I knew I should put them on, but I couldn’t bring myself to remove my dress. It was covered in Gareth’s blood. As crazy as it sounded, I didn’t want to take it off. It was the last piece of my uncle I had left. I wasn’t ready to let go.

  Maggie and Serena, seeing my distress, walked over and wrapped their arms around me.

  The warmth of their skin made me realize just how cold I was, how hard I was shivering, and the hold I had on my emotions crumpled.

  I began to sob uncontrollably.

  They didn’t say anything, but I could see understanding in their eyes. Together, they helped me out of the gown and into the fresh clothes.

  I cried even harder as they pulled the wretched heels from my feet and replaced them with warm socks and a worn pair of boots.

  I had been so certain that there wasn’t anything left of my heart, but as they helped me into the back of the van, I thought of Gareth and Ty, and something inside me broke in two, obliterated by grief and guilt and sorrow.

  It was me. I was broken. Broken beyond repair.

  My stomach ached and my body convulsed as the sobs ripped through me, tearing me to pieces.

  I heard Maggie’s tearful voice. “Please,” she whispered, though I didn’t understand.

  There was a slight shuffling sound, and then I felt a hand against my forehead. “Rest now, little witch.”

  Zia’s cool voice filled my thoughts, and then I met the darkness of sleep.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  It was cool outside. The night air had a slight nip to it that made me shiver. The wool blanket I’d wrapped around my shoulders scratched against my skin, but I didn’t care.

  The cot underneath me was rigid and stiff. By proxy so were my limbs, but the discomfort of my body could hardly touch the deep ache from the gaping hole in my heart. I lay with my arms wrapped around myself, as if to keep the ragged edges from caving in. I squeezed, my fingers digging into my skin. Crescent-shaped indentions covered my arms, but I felt nothing. I was completely numb, encased in a fog that dulled my senses.

  Zia and the Skippers were sitting around a small campfire a few feet away. The men were drinking coffee and laughing, while Zia pored over a map and offered a few small smiles in response to their goading. The warmth of the fire was enticing, but I couldn’t bring myself to join them. The golden-orange flames that flickered in the darkness reminded me too much of another fire—the one that had cost me everything.

  We’d been on the road for days now, and every night it was the same. Despite my best efforts to stay awake, my body was drained, still exhausted and weak. Sleep came for me like an executioner, torturing me with sights, smells, and sounds that plagued me until I finally woke screaming in the darkness.

  Serena and Maggie kept reassuring me that it would get better, but every night I woke with Gareth’s blood on my hands, the Master’s scream of rage in my ears, and Ty’s blue eyes, cold and unfeeling, staring into mine.

  I can never come away from this. That thought reverberated in my mind, a never-ending loop of unspoken truth. I’d read an article once about people who experience trauma. The study showed that while many are able to move past their experiences, a small number remain lost, living their lives within themselves. The article called them the “living dead,” and while it had seemed so entirely strange and sad when I read it, I now understood what it meant to be alive but not living.

  I stared at the flames of the campfire. They also perfectly mirrored the anger that flowed within me—the only thing that could reach me past the numbness. I was so angry I could hardly bear it—angry at Ty, at the Master, at Gareth, and worst of all, at myself.

  There’s nothing more you could have done, the voice of reason whispered in my ear. You have to keep moving forward.

  “No. I can’t . . . I won’t,” I hissed back, raking my hands over my face. I deserved every ounce of pain and suffering I got. Tears sprang up in my eyes, but I blinked them away. I’d spent too many days lost in sobs and heartbreak. It made me sick. Being numb was better.

  “It’s not your fault.” Maggie’s voice broke through my thoughts. She was staring at me from her own cot a few feet away. Serena was on a similar cot, snoring peacefully. “I know what you’re thinking right now, but it’s not.”

  “Stop saying that.” My voice was harsher than I meant it to be. “It is my fault. I never should have let him go.”

  Maggie sat up, wincing as she put weight on her injured arm. “You have to stop beating yourself up. Gareth wouldn’t want you to blame yourself for what happened. You did everything you could’ve.”

  I balled my hands into fists. “No, I could’ve done more. I could’ve tried harder. I could’ve done more.”

  “Styles.” Maggie’s voice was soft. “There was nothing else to do. The Master had already . . . Gareth was alrea
dy gone, Lainey. You have to know that.”

  “And Ty? Is that not my fault either?” I clutched my chest as the hole spasmed painfully. Even his name on my lips was unbearable. I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting against the agony.

  Maggie let out a soft sigh. “At least we have the Grimoire.”

  The emerald amulet had still been around my neck when we escaped from Savannah. Our plan to steal it back had worked after all . . . yet, considering the cost, it hardly felt like a victory.

  “So easy for you to say,” I growled, rolling on my side away from Maggie. I didn’t want to talk anymore.

  “We should get some sleep.” Maggie sighed again and settled back down on her cot. I waited for the sound of her even breathing before I rolled back over.

  She was asleep, but restless. She shivered, though there was a sweaty sheen to her skin. The bite on her arm had been cleaned and bandaged, but the black veins that spidered from the wound were spreading up her arm. They nearly reached her shoulder; the poison from the bite was working its way through her system.

  “Will she be okay?” I had asked Zia when we had stopped to camp on the first night.

  “Shifter bites aren’t usually lethal.” The other woman shrugged. “But the change won’t be comfortable for her.”

  “The change? Does that mean she . . .”

  “Yes,” Zia said. “Your friend is transitioning. She’s becoming a Shifter.”

  “Is there a way to stop it?”

  “I’m afraid not.” Zia thought for a minute, and then added, “But if it helps, Shifters have unique magical abilities—the kind that are not only useful but admired by many of our kind. If she can learn to control it, that is.”

  I’d broken the news to Maggie as gently as possible.

  “So . . . what you’re saying,” Maggie had said after a long pause of silence, “is that once the transition or whatever is complete, then I’ll have the power to change into any kind of animal that I want?”

  I gulped and nodded. “That’s the way I understand it.” I had reached for Maggie’s hand to comfort her, but she’d already jumped to her feet, her face bright with excitement. “This is amazing!”

  I stared at her. Was it possible that shock was making her loopy? “It is?”

  “Don’t you get it, Lainey? This is my radioactive spider, my super-soldier serum! My chance to be something more than just ordinary!”

  I’d tried to reason with her, to explain the challenges of what she might face, but Maggie smiled and waved her hand. “Semantics. Don’t worry, Styles. They’re gonna write a book about us one day. Just wait and see.”

  The pain from the transition had gotten worse with every passing hour, but Maggie had continued to bear it with a smile, her eternal optimism never faltering.

  Guilt pulsed through me as I stared at her sleeping face. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “I’m sorry for what happened to you, Mags. And I’m sorry that I’m not being a good friend right now.” Hot tears brimmed in my eyes. “But most of all, I’m sorry for not being brave like you.”

  I rolled over again, the tears streaking noiselessly down my cheeks. I reached underneath my pillow and pulled out the Grimoire. It hummed in my hand, though the magic felt stale and disjointed in a way. I gripped the necklace, willing it to transform. Green lightning flashed between my fingertips, but the necklace remained a necklace.

  I tried again, but it remained sealed shut. I had no idea how to transform the amulet into a book, much less how to use it or keep it safe.

  With an angry curse, I shoved the necklace back underneath the pillow. My chest was throbbing, and my breath was coming in short bursts as my lungs fought back the hysterics that gripped me.

  I wrapped my arms around myself again and squeezed my eyes shut. It didn’t help. I opened them again and stared up at the star-filled sky. I began to count—distraction was the only thing I could tolerate.

  Lainey.

  The familiar voice was barely audible, and I wasn’t sure if my subconscious had made it up or not. I looked around, looked at Maggie, but with the exception of Zia and the Skippers a few feet away, the campsite was still.

  Lainey.

  This time I sat straight up, my eyes searching. I saw someone waiting in the shadows of a small grove of trees. I didn’t hesitate this time.

  I grabbed the Grimoire and eased off my cot, careful not to wake Maggie and Serena or draw attention to myself from the Skippers. I hedged my way out of the light of the fire and then dashed as quietly and quickly as I could to the trees.

  I nearly cried when I saw her standing there.

  Josephine. Her long dark tresses danced in the breeze, her face so full of sorrow that I had to clutch my chest to keep from crying out.

  “Where have you been?” I croaked, my throat full of emotions. I hadn’t seen Josephine since the Gathering, and I’d feared I might never see her again.

  She said nothing, but her own eyes began to fill with tears. She pointed to the Grimoire in my hand.

  “Yes, I have it, but something’s wrong with it,” I said. “I can’t open it, can’t transform it. Shouldn’t I be able to?”

  Josephine took a deep breath and held out her hand. I paused for only the slightest second before I placed my hand in hers. I was ready for the vortex of color as it swirled around me. This time the pain was familiar, and gripping the Grimoire, I welcomed it.

  When I felt solid ground underneath my feet, I opened my eyes. I was standing on the bank of a small river. Across the water, there was what looked like a thick wall of smoke or a gauzy curtain. People were moving behind it, but I couldn’t make out faces or features. The place was peaceful, but there was something heavy hanging in the air that made me grip the necklace a little tighter.

  “Lainey.”

  I whirled around. Josephine was standing behind me, though for the first time, her garments were clean of blood. Her hair was combed and pulled back in a loose braid, and she was more solid than ever before. For the first time, Josephine looked nothing like a ghost. She looked human.

  “Josephine?” I reached out to touch her, but hesitated and pulled back.

  She smiled at me and reached out, squeezing my hand affectionately. I stared in shock at the hand in mine, the feeling of warmth around my fingers. “How is this possible? Where are we?”

  “I’ve brought you to the Veil,” Josephine explained. “Some call it the In Between. It’s the only place I could appear to you like this. There is much to be said, and my time with you grows short. I wanted you to see me like this, if only for the last time.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Lainey, it’s exceedingly difficult to communicate from the Other Side. It requires incredible power, and I’m afraid that I am growing weak. My magic is running out. I will only be able to speak with you this one last time.” She smiled, though her eyes were sad. “Our parallel destinies made this connection possible, so that I might warn you of the dangers and be with you in that final moment when you needed strength the most—when you had to do what I could not do. But now, I must go.”

  Panic rocketed through me. “But you can’t leave. I have so many questions. I don’t know what to do.” I sucked in a large breath, trying to keep it together. “The Master, he . . . he . . .” I broke off as a sob lodged in my throat.

  Tears dripped down Josephine’s cheeks, the pain in her eyes mirroring mine. “I know.” She wrapped her arms around me, pulling me close. I clung to her as a torrent of emotions poured out of me. Josephine held me, rubbing my hair until my sobs had subsided. I knew I didn’t have to say the words. Josephine had been through it all.

  The crater in my chest felt ragged and raw, but for the first time in two days, I felt like I could breathe again. I pulled back and wiped my cheeks with my hand. “I’m sorry.”

  “Please don’t apologize to me, Lai
ney. I know your pain well. Our paths are connected; your pain is my pain.”

  I nodded, remembering Henry and the loss of her child. I took a deep breath. “Why can’t I open the Grimoire?”

  Josephine gently took the necklace from my hand. “Because this is not the Grimoire.” She waved her hand, and the necklace began to bubble and ripple. With an audible pop, the magic surrounding it evaporated, and it transformed into a thick, leather-bound book.

  She handed the book back to me. Gripping the spine, I flipped through it. Every single page was blank.

  “But . . .” I kept turning the pages, unwilling to believe it. My mind was whirling, trying to come up with some kind of explanation, but there wasn’t one. “It’s a fake,” I finally whispered. My fingers dug into the covers of the book. “It’s a fake.”

  Josephine nodded gravely. “Yes.”

  Pain shot through me, followed by hot flashes of anger and frustration. “Then it was all for nothing?” I cried. “Oh, God!” I clutched at my heart as I thought of Gareth. “Oh my God.”

  I whirled on Josephine. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I was nearly hysterical.

  “Please hear me,” Josephine urged. “I swear to you, Lainey. There are secrets even in death.”

  “You didn’t know?”

  Josephine shook her head. “No, I did not. Things are not always as simple as they seem. Not even here.” She gestured at her surroundings.

  “So is that why you’re here now? To tell me that I’ve failed? That everything I did was for nothing?”

  “No, I’ve come to show you something.”

  Josephine waved her hand, and a small block of color swirled into view.

  An image took shape. It was my mother.

  I bit back a cry as I watched her kneel beside the bed of a sleeping child.

  “That’s me,” I whispered, staring at the tiny version of myself curled up beneath a fuzzy pink blanket, my thick hair spread across the pillow like a fan. My mother reached for my hand, her eyes full of tears.

  “My darling girl,” she whispered, pressing my fingers against her cheek. “My sweet baby. I know you won’t understand this and you’ll probably hate me, but please believe I’m doing this for you. You have such a big heart, and you’re so strong. You’ve always been so brave.”

 

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