The Keeper's Vow

by B. F. Simone

  “Do you even use the planner I got you?” Traci waited for an answer, but Katie wasn’t going to give it. It was still in the back of her locker where she put it after Traci gave it to her. Traci shook her head and grabbed her purse. She rummaged for a second and pulled out the planner that was supposed to be in Katie's locker—the locker Traci had to go through to get her books. “You never even opened it.” Traci flopped it on the table, packed her things, and left.

  She was the third person that day to walk out on her. She could handle Tristan, because maybe, maybe she could fix it. She could handle Allison, because Allison always forgives her. Her dad and Lucinda, they were just angry parents. But Traci was never disappointed in her. Traci always gave her those lame motivational speeches and worked with her.

  Katie laid her head on the table and cried. They were all right—they were right about everything.

  No one talked to her for a week. It wouldn’t have been so bad if she could sleep, or leave the house. She was surprised that her dad never put bars on the windows. She tried to make it up to him by cooking everyday and cleaning the house, but it didn’t work. The only way they communicated was via grocery list and short commands. An actual conversation about anything other than what she should, or could do was non-existent.

  She never ate what she cooked. It was like stuffing food down an already stuffed body, but as the week went on, she could feel her body growing more tired.

  Lucinda still trained her but she never saw Allison. Lucinda made gestures and gave lectures when she wanted Katie to do something, which was only shoot, because that was all they did for a week straight. After training she’d discussed what Katie did well what she need to do better and what they were going to do next. That was it. No friendly chats, none of the small talk Lucinda was known for. Only lectures, instructions, and feedback. Traci mumbled a word here or there, but Katie never knew if she was talking to herself or not.

  Since Katie didn’t need her nights to sleep, she did her homework and tried to catch up on the things she’d never bothered to do. Traci sometimes seemed impressed, but she never really said anything.

  She was allowed to go to school starting tomorrow. It was a good thing, she could hear other voices, besides the ones on the television. Her teachers would probably talk directly to her and she wouldn’t feel like she’d break out into tears every time Lucinda looked at her with disappointed eyes.

  Katie stayed up that night working on math. She was getting even better at it, so many patterns. She laughed at herself when she started looking forward to doing the next problem.

  She laid back on her bed taking a break. She couldn’t wait for school tomorrow It would be nice to spend time seeing something other than her four walls.

  “TELL ME!”

  Katie shot up. It was Tristan. Her body filled with dizziness and rage. She even tasted alcohol.

  “I told you, I don’t know.” In her mind she saw a small guy with red hair and bright blue eyes. He was shaking. “Look man you’ve had a few drinks, maybe you’re confusing me with someone else.”

  Tristan was laughing manically. She could feel his rage boiling over. “You’re making this harder,” Tristan grabbed the guys face and slammed it into a brick wall, “Than it has to be.” The guy was scratching at Tristan’s hand but the pain felt good. Tristan let go and the man’s head flung backwards. Blood stained the wall. “Tell me.” He breathed hard.

  The red head cried and held his head. “Don’t kill me. Please. I don’t know.”

  Tristan was walking away. He flexed his fist and laughed.

  Everything went blank. But Katie could still taste the alcohol and the echo of his manic laugh. Her heart pounded threatening to break her chest. What was he doing?

  She tried to focus her dizzy mind on math. But she was kidding herself. Her hands shook—they ached. It was him. She was feeling too much of him. She tried to slow her breathing. She didn’t want to see something like that again. But it was too late, she was sucked in again.

  He was pounding back drinks. So many he started to throw up. Katie ran to the bathroom quick enough to make it into the toilet.

  Tristan?

  If he heard her he was ignoring her.

  And still drinking.

  It went on for hours. Until six in the morning. She’d see flashes of him beating people, getting drunker and, right before he passed out, fighting three people at once. They’d knocked him out. But she knew he was alive. She’d caught a glimpse of Mercedes throwing water on his face.

  It was almost time to go to school and Katie laid curled up on her bed. She didn’t want to go. Her stomach pinched and she couldn’t get her body to stop shaking. She’d felt one of those punches. She even checked a few times to make sure her hands weren’t bleeding. The Black Void. It was back, but she was no longer floating above it’s surface. She was in the deep end.

  She went to school, but spent half of it in the nurses office when he started having nightmares—she hoped they were just nightmares and not memories. One of a D-range vampire breaking through his front door. He was a little boy, maybe eight. It was the first time he’d ever killed someone. The sound of a neck cracking, as if there were a thousand tiny bones popping at once. That night. It changed something in him, she could tell by the way he’d wake up filling her mind with his scream every time he stabbed the D-range in the head. He’d wake up, take a drink, and go back to sleep. Those dreams were real…but the others…she hoped…so bad they weren’t.

  A Death Dealer. He lied. They weren’t a police force. They were executioners.

  During the week, she tried to pay attention in class, but she was merely walking in the dark. Flashes here and there. And screaming always screaming. She had been right to call it the Black Void, because it never ended. Perpetual darkness—she waited for the twilight, a glimmer of hope, but just when silence settled something else crawled out. Once it was a little girl. A D-range, the others wanted him to kill her, but he couldn’t—she was just a little girl.

  They did it and made him watch her head snap back as the bullet went through. It didn’t kill her though, it only stopped her long enough for them to throw her out into the rising sun. He ran after her, but by the time he’d reached her body, it shattered into crystals—she felt like fine sand.

  Katie woke up crying in her math class. She couldn’t stop. She didn’t know when she’d fallen a sleep, or when she’d been led to the office, or when they called her dad. She kept seeing that little girls face and the bullet going through her head. They never closed her eyes. They just tossed her. And he never made it, he wasn’t fast enough.

  Katie screamed.

  “Katie? Katie Bug, talk to me.” It was her dad. He was shaking her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. She was talking to Tristan, but only her dad heard her. Her dad took her home and when Lucinda came to train her she didn’t look surprised to find Katie curled up in her room.

  “Katie? When was the last time you drank? You have to, every two weeks or you’ll start having withdrawals. Do you feel dizzy? Murky? Lethargic?”

  No. She couldn’t drink anymore. The visions were less detailed as the week went on. If she drank again she’d feel him more. She’d feel it all. She couldn’t. When he was drunk there was no wall. Katie stayed curled up on her bed and gripped her pillow.

  “How does this work, Lucinda?” Her dad said.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Ask the boy.”

  “He’s been missing. Actually, I wanted to take Katie to Gray City to help me find him. I know they can sense each other,”

  Katie looked at Lucinda. How did she know?

  “I’ve watched you both train. You lived at my house. These things don’t escape me. Tristan always saw you before you walked into a room. He spent most of your practices answering questions you never said out loud. And you just confirmed it.”

  Katie shook her head. She didn’t want to go to Gray City. She didn’t want to see him. It could
get worse the closer she’d get to him. For the first time she was truly afraid of Tristan. Not because he was half-vampire, but because of what he kept locked up inside of him. The real reason he’d always kept her out.

  —And like that Katie caught a glimpse of a woman flying into light. Katie—no Tristan—had scratches and bites on his arms from where she’d tried to hold on.

  Katie shook her head.

  It took an hour for Lucinda to convince her to go. Lucinda told her he’d been creating a noise amongst some of the guardians in Gray City, but Katie knew that. It was the fact that Lucinda was worried that changed her mind. Tristan hadn’t returned home since the day he shut the elevator doors in Katie’s face. It was her fault.

  Lucinda kept looking back at Katie while they drove into downtown. Tristan hadn’t started drinking yet, but the nightmares, or memories, were starting up.

  “What’s going on Katie?” Lucinda said.

  Katie shook her head. Katie didn’t want to tell her just how far she could sense Tristan. It would be a violation if she did.

  They took the Bistro down into Gray City and Katie felt him like a magnet. This time was much different from the last. She was afraid of what they’d find. He wasn’t far, he was in a small bar that Lucinda said was owned by an ex-guardian turned werewolf.

  When they walked in, Katie saw him right away sitting on a bar stool staring down at his drink. He didn’t notice them though. Not until Lucinda was two feet from him.

  “Tristan? Why haven’t you come home? What are you doing in a bar? You’re not old enough to—”

  “Leave me the hell alone.” He turned back to the drink in front of him. It would be the first one since he woke up.

  “Tristan—”

  “I said back the fuck off.”

  Lucinda stood still and steadied her breathing. Katie wanted to warn her. Tristan was a rumbling volcano, but only Katie could feel the earthquake beneath her feet. He sat still as stone looking at his drink.

  Lucinda tried to grab his drink but he smacked it onto the ground right before she touched it.

  “HEY!” the bartender yelled. He was a burly man with thick side burns and reaching for something under the bar.

  “It’s alright, Birmingham. He’s my nephew.”

  Tristan stood up. “I’m nothing to you. No, I take that back. I’m a blood-whore’s baby. You remember that letter? I bet you do. It made my mother cry for months.”

  “Hey, get out kid,” Birmingham said, wiping the spilled liquor off the table. He didn’t take his eyes off Tristan.

  Tristan moved past Lucinda and towards Katie. He didn’t look at her. He was walking past her as if she didn’t exist.

  “Tristan.” It came out a whisper. But she couldn’t let him walk out the door. “Tristan.”

  He stopped.

  “Please, stop. Just—”

  When his eyes met hers, a shudder ran down her entire body. She felt everything. His anger. His sadness. His regret. Everything. And it was all meant for her. He hated her to his core.

  “You are the worst. While you grew up with two families and a clean conscience, I lived in solitude like a prisoner. No one wanted me. Because I’m the real version of what you are. Even the man who locked me away spent all this time waiting to give you free ice cream. While you have a life, I have to live mine tied to yours because your whore-mother took that away from me. From the day you were born and until the day I die, it will always be about you.”

  His nostrils flared and he dug his nails into his hands. She could feel the pain on her own hands. “I fucking hate you.”

  Hot tears ran down her face. She wished…she wished that he was lying. Saying it to hurt her. But all she felt was his hate mixed in with loss, loneliness, fear, and regret. All of it pulsed through her until she couldn’t breathe.

  Tristan walked out the door. Inside, her heart burst and she dropped to her knees. She could even feel his heart turning to stone and crumbling into tiny pieces—the shards stabbed at her insides. This is what they had done to him. The way she couldn’t breathe, the way she couldn’t stand, or feel Lucinda pulling her up. This is what she had done to him.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  How do you fix something so broken you can’t even recognize the pieces? Katie could see now, that his entire life he’d been trying to glue the pieces of himself together. One by one, he tired to make himself whole, but glue never holds up. He had come back because he couldn’t do it by himself. He’d needed them. He’d needed her.

  After seeing him in the bar, the visions got no better or worse, they just changed. She was his nightmare. All those times she’d thought of him as a monster, gotten angry with him for being reclusive, the way she’d said he ruined her life. It was all there laid out for her to see while he pounded back more drinks. He was always drinking.

  Katie was on her way to school, alone, because Allison never walked with her anymore. Or talked with her. Or looked at her.

  Katie got as far as the school steps before she turned around. She hadn’t drank blood and she was almost a week over due. Her vision was fuzzy at times, it was hard to hear, and she’d tripped over her own feet twice already in the last five minutes. She needed to drink, but more blood meant more Tristan. She didn’t want to feel the distinctive burn of vodka right before he threw it up.

  She wondered around downtown in a fuzz. The first time she was downtown with Tristan, he’d followed her around from shop to shop until she confronted him. He couldn’t just tell her that he could hear her thoughts. No, he always had to be indirect.

  For him, being indirect was making an effort. He always wanted her to meet him half way. She’d spent their entire relationship expecting him to do all of the work.

  Katie stopped in front of Larry’s ice scream shop. He was in there scooping out ice cream for an older woman. She went to open the door. It would be her first time seeing him since that night. What would she say?

  He was waving her in.

  She opened the door and sat at one of the tables. She didn’t want ice cream. Why was she here?

  He waved the woman out of the store and took a long look at Katie. He walked over to the door and locked it, flipped the open sign over to closed, and sat down across from her. “You don’t look well.” He didn’t sound like Larry, the friendly ice cream man. He was Larry, the night club owner. Things had changed.

  Katie smiled. It was weak. She felt like she was going to cry. Why was she crying in front of Larry in his ice cream shop? Her head was down on the table and he patted her back until she stopped. He didn’t ask her what was wrong, or tell her everything was going to be okay. He just let her cry.

  “I’ll tell you a story.” She heard Larry shift in his chair. “My father used to hate me because I didn’t need blood and food from the earth like him. Every one but him saw me as a blessing from God.”

  Katie looked up.

  “He tried to kill me when I was ten. That was when I found out I had the ability to heal myself.”

  Katie raised her eyebrows in question.

  “Because he and a few others, saw our births—me and the other royal children—as a curse. The women stopped being fertile, and we were the only ones ever with gifts that were supposedly from the God that had originally damned us. It was a very complicated time.

  “Ivan is really the one who saved me. We were best-friends growing up. Inseparable—until he moved to The New World.” Larry drifted and stared out past her. “I had been screaming because my father was pushing iron nails in my hands and feet. He was going to crucify me and told me if I was really from God that I should be glad to die. He told me neither God, nor God’s blessings had a place in his house. Not when the rest of them were cursed to live in the shadows.

  Ivan was smaller than me then, but he had the strength of a thousand men. My father was about to put the final nail through my skull when Ivan hurled Father across the room and said he’d kill him if he ever touched me again. Ivan had thick black hair
like Tristan—but it was at his shoulders then.

  No one knew what his gift was. I was the only one to ever see him use it. I kept his secret, and he kept my father away from me until the day came when we had to kill our fathers.”

  Katie swallowed.

  “Tristan reminds me of Ivan. He hardly ever smiled, and when he did it was always a mocking smirk that, most times, I wanted to slap off his face. And he was always…cryptic. It was easier to make a cat walk on water than it was to get him to speak openly.”

  Katie sat up in her chair. “Tristan stayed with you after didn’t he?”

  Larry nodded. “I kept him in my house in New York.” Lawrence was quiet for a while.

  Katie tried to make sense of it. There had to be a reason.

  “Tristan is a—troubled boy. I can’t say I approve of you having a relationship with him. Let alone being bonded.”

  Katie looked away. First: they didn’t have a relationship. Second: Larry wasn’t exactly someone who could approve or disapprove. Third: Tristan wouldn’t be so troubled if he’d raised him instead of leaving him in a house to raise himself like a potted plant.

  “I can tell by the look on your face—you didn’t like what I just said.” Larry laughed. “You’re like your mother.”

  “How’d you know my mother?” Katie said, feeling intruded on.

  Larry stood up and walked over to the counter. He grabbed something and came back. He handed her Allison’s cellphone. “Maybe we’ll talk about that next time? I can’t make any money if I’m closed, and you never pay.” He smiled at her teasingly, but there it was. Evasion. How had he known her mother? Why did he own an ice cream shop near her neighborhood called ‘Kat’s’ ice cream.

  She left. She didn’t want to open that can of worms. Not now. Not tomorrow. Not ever. Nope.

  She waited outside of her school when the last bell rang. She went in and waited by Allison’s locker. They still weren’t talking to each other, but she needed to give her her cellphone back.