The Keep: The Watchers

by Veronica Wolff

  Sadness sideswiped me, welling from some hidden place, clenching my heart. “My mom died when I was a kid.”

  He murmured some tender but unintelligible thing to me. I thought it must’ve been Gaelic, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was him, how he cared. How he tucked my head in his hand, comforting me with his sure and gentle caresses.

  Between the blood and his touch, I grew drowsy. It made me oddly philosophical. I wouldn’t press Carden on his father but made a mental note to try again someday. There was still one thing I didn’t understand, though, that I did want an answer to: Why was I the one here, in his bed, being touched like this? “Why me?” I asked groggily. “Why are you with me, Carden?”

  “Why am I with you?” The words came out sounding amused and perplexed.

  I mustered energy enough to pull clear of his embrace, though his fingers remained tangled in my hair. “I’m serious. I’m not the prettiest girl on the island. I’m smart, but hell, that Audra-Frost girl isn’t exactly a dummy. I’m…I don’t know…I’m just me.”

  He used a single finger to trace the hair from my brow. “That’s it precisely. You’re just you.” He let that sink in; then, growing quiet, he added, “Perhaps you help me to remember.” At my questioning look, he elaborated. “You are an innocent. You are so steadfast. So true.”

  “An innocent, huh?” So how come I didn’t feel so innocent? I considered his other words—steadfast. True. Ronan had called me loyal once. I’d never really thought about it, but maybe they were right. After all, I felt ready to risk it all to discover what’d happened to Emma.

  So then why wasn’t Yasuo recognizing any of this steadfast trueness?

  I zoned out, thinking all this, and he must’ve mistaken my silence for bewilderment because he went on. “You have a sort of nobility. And when we’re together…it’s as though I, too, reclaim some part of that.”

  I angled away to get a better look at him. He was trying to explain, but he’d actually made it worse. “So the reason you like me is that I’m Miss Dependable? And because I’m innocent—a fragile and ennobled human?” Was that all? I shifted to let the moonlight hit him, peering for the truth on his face. “You were one of those guys who went for the broken birds, weren’t you?”

  “Broken birds?”

  “You know. The kind of guy who likes to save the ones with the broken wings.”

  “You intentionally misunderstand.” He pinched my chin. “Aye, it’s true. I’ve spent long years seeking a wee dove to adore. But not because I wished for one to tend. I’ve wanted one with whom I could soar.”

  I leaned back with a sigh. Was it Carden’s words or that amazing accent that made it sound so fantastic?

  I couldn’t think anymore and snuggled close, suddenly so tired. The extra-intense feeding had finally gotten to me, like I’d consumed three consecutive Thanksgiving dinners. I must’ve fallen asleep because I felt his arms slide under my legs, under my shoulders, and I had the sensation of the ground rushing away from me as he lifted me up. I wrapped an arm around his neck, curling into him.

  Something happened as he slipped through the doors of the dorm. It was the middle of the night, but still, deep-seated instinct woke me. I tensed, suddenly on alert, aware of every creak and rustle.

  “Quiet yourself,” he whispered in my ear. “Nobody will hear us.”

  We reached my room. Still holding me, he leaned down and turned the knob. Miraculously, the door opened without its usual moan.

  My eyes went to Frost, sound asleep in her bed. “Don’t wake her.”

  He paused, his breathing low and even. He looked like he was sending his consciousness into the universe, if that made any sense. “She will not wake,” he said with surety.

  “Okayyy.” I slid from his arms. “Someday you’ll need to explain that.”

  I stood, but was still woozy, and I lurched, grabbing one hand to his chest and one on my bureau to steady me.

  His laugh was a low rumble in the darkness. “You must rest.”

  My fingers curled on the top of the dresser, palm sliding instinctively along the front. “Wait,” I said, deciding there was one last thing I’d share. “I need to show you something. A picture.”

  The picture. The one of my mom that I’d treasured my whole life. Old and yellowed, the paper had begun to separate at one of the corners.

  I went to my desk and retrieved the gift Carden had given me. Our eyes met as I pulled it from my bookshelf. He grinned at me, obviously pleased.

  But as I peeled back the false binding, I knew a flare of panic. I was showing Carden everything now. The photo. Its very existence could get me killed.

  Not to mention Ronan—he’d risked much getting that picture back for me. We’d never discussed it again. If the vampires found out, he’d be dead meat.

  “This is her. My mom.” I handed him the photo. It was the ultimate show of trust. But still, I couldn’t help but plead, “You can’t tell.”

  The look he gave me put me instantly at ease. “Your secrets follow me to the grave.”

  I sighed, watching him as he studied it. I’d expected him to warm to it. Or maybe to look from her to me and back again, catching the resemblances. We had the same wide eyes. The same mouth. But instead his reaction was the last one I expected.

  His eyes dimmed. He was cold, handing it back to me. He gave me a sharp nod.

  What the hell?

  Did he realize how much of a leap of trust this was and decide we’d gotten too close? Did he know this was completely illegal for me to have? Or worse, had he guessed that Ronan was the one who’d stolen it back for me?

  But in an instant he was Carden again, leading me to my bed, tucking me in. “You must drink, my love.” He held his wrist before my lips.

  So I must’ve just imagined his reaction. It made sense—I was really out of it, like I’d been drugged. “Drink again?” I asked groggily.

  “You must. Just a wee bit. Just once more.”

  I fought to keep my eyes open. “I’m too tired.”

  He rubbed his skin against my lips, and instinctively I opened my mouth. Instinctively, I suckled. I couldn’t help it—as sated as I was, my body still longed for it. He was whispering odd things to me, mesmerizing me, things I only half heard in my stupor. About how strong I was. How strong I would be.

  How strong I’d need to be.

  He stroked a slow hand up and down my side, and I moaned with contentment. I wanted to open my eyes to get a last peek at him for the night, but I was so tired. So full.

  “You must take care, my love. Do naught that is foolish.”

  “I’m just going to bed, dumb-dumb. Do you think I even sleep recklessly?” I gave a muzzy chuckle. “Don’t go all Ronan on me, okay?”

  He was silent for a second, long enough for me to hold my breath and wonder if I’d made a misstep mentioning Ronan. But then he spoke again, his tone oddly pensive. “He looks out for you, Ronan does. You believe he has your interests at heart?”

  I sighed, relieved at his soothing tone, and nestled deeper in my blankets, sleep beckoning me. It was an effort to parse his question, and I shrugged drowsily.

  “Annelise? Ronan. He looks out for you?”

  “Yeah. Sure.” Part of my brain cried that I should be paying more attention, that something else was being asked here. But I was so very tired, the lure of sweet sleep pulling me down and down. “I remind him of his sister.”

  I faded then and was drawn back to consciousness one last time as he tucked the sheets tightly around my shoulders. He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Good-bye, sweet love.”

  Be strong? Good-bye? Why was he sounding so intense?

  I wanted to ask him. I meant to ask him, but before I could form the words, I slid into unconsciousness.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  It didn’t surprise me that I didn’t see Carden the next day or even the day after that. He was always so quick to come when I felt alone or afraid, but since our night togeth
er, I’d felt awesome.

  I felt empowered. Fierce. While extra doses of blood could be dangerous to some, to me it was like medicine. Like vitamins. Like pure…liquid…bliss. I breathed more deeply. My senses were more acute. My muscles were limber and taut. I felt like a machine. A Ferrari.

  I was determined to use that strength. To hone it. To take advantage. I’d be the strongest girl on this island. I’d show Alcántara he couldn’t control me. I’d use everything this place had to offer; then I’d blow the roof off.

  Which meant I had to destroy all my weaknesses. Banish all my fears. And there was one nagging fear that lingered above all others: water.

  I hadn’t known how to swim when I’d arrived, but Ronan had taken me under his wing. Taught me to float. Then to swim. Later, to surf. But I still hadn’t gotten past my fear of it, not completely. When Izzy and Aubrey had held my face in the surf, it’d all rushed back—that panic I felt underwater, feeling it whoosh up my nose and gurgle into my ears.

  I was only as strong as my greatest shortcoming, and my lingering fear of water was one pretty ginormous shortcoming. I mean, we were on an island in the middle of the sea, right?

  I needed to get past it once and for all.

  I checked my watch as I jogged from the dining hall to the pool. I had a good hour till curfew forced me back to the room. The task I’d set for myself was simple—do some laps, then practice my breath-holding exercises. Ever since I’d learned that people could train themselves to hold their breath for fifteen minutes or longer, I’d been dying to work on it. But I’d also learned that immersion in water triggered something in the brain, meaning it did no good to practice unless you were actually underwater.

  With my increased feedings with Carden, I needed to discover what else my body might be capable of. So far, my underwater record was two minutes. It wasn’t much, but it sure beat my original fifteen-second attempts.

  The natatorium glowed from across the campus in the bitter darkness, its bright interior lights shooting from windows high overhead. It always amazed me to find people working out at this hour. I was never a gym rat myself, especially not after dinner. Yuck. Yawn. No thanks.

  On those rare times I had needed to venture to the gym outside of class, it was like how I imagined visiting a foreign country might be—you knew these people existed, knew they had different customs from you, but still, opening that door, walking from darkness into the bright hum of fluorescent lights and the chatter of sweating kids was always a shock. I tried to avoid it as much as possible.

  Heading to the pool at this hour was no different. The natatorium was a large, hollow building, and with its Olympic-sized pool, mazes of locker rooms, showers, and hot tubs, its sole purpose was aquatics-related activities. I hadn’t even made it inside before I heard those unmistakable pool sounds and stopped to take it all in. The splashes. Distant voices calling to one another, reverberating in the cavernous space.

  Even from outside, the smell of chlorine hit me, eliciting strong gut reactions—fear, hate, panic. I fisted my hands, forcing myself to associate new things with the smell. Mastery. Ability. Vigor. Enjoyment.

  Okay, so that last one went a little too far.

  Even though I was distracted, I felt the presence behind me instantly. I smiled—it was the effect of Carden’s blood. I sensed my attacker, sensed his threat. I stood still, pretending ignorance. Innocence. All the while I watched his shadow approach. I could tell by the width of it, by the gait, that my attacker was Rob.

  When he leapt for me, I was ready. I braced my feet, and as his arm wrapped around my neck, I grabbed him at his wrist and elbow and twisted. “Hey, Rob,” I said lightly. “What’s up?”

  He flexed, ignoring what must’ve been sharp pain in his arm, and jutted his chin through my hair, fumbling to reach my skin. A hiss spilled across my neck, hot in the cold night air. “I’ve been waiting for this.”

  “Funny,” I said, gritting my teeth. “Me too.” I tensed my neck—it wouldn’t do me any good to accidentally choke myself—then dug my hands into his arm and doubled over at the waist.

  The flip was a simple one, textbook beginner stuff, but so, so perfect. I flipped him over my head, then landed on him, pinning him. My body splayed over his chest, and though I was light compared to him, I aimed the full force of my weight through two points: my left elbow jabbing his sternum and my right forearm crushing his throat. “Cool,” I said. “I always wondered if this martial arts stuff worked for real.”

  He darted his head side to side, trying to get air.

  “Whoops.” I gave him my brightest, my most feminine smile. “Am I hurting you?”

  He was unable to speak, but his eyes narrowed to slits, glaring hard. In a quick burst of action, he kicked his feet, trying to wriggle out from under me.

  “One question.” I inched my hand up, sneaking for a grip on his collar. “Were you trying to bite me?”

  He tried to buck me off.

  I slid a knee to his groin, and he froze. I tsked. “You were trying to bite me. And I bet the moment I let go, you’ll try again. You won’t even pretend to negotiate. That’s the problem with you boys. You lack subtlety.”

  It was time to speak his language. If he wasn’t going to be reasonable with me, then I wouldn’t be reasonable with him. But how to send a message without actually strangling him?—which, honestly, was also under active consideration. I’d already humiliated him once when I’d slashed a giant hole in his pants.

  I’d broken out in a sweat, my hands aching where they fisted his jacket collar, but still, he was unable to break free. I was stronger than before. It was time to up my game.

  He thought he could bite me, but I knew what would stop him. He could patch a tear in his pants. It was time to do some damage he wouldn’t be able to hide.

  I shifted, and he shifted with me, gasping in a breath of air and hissing it out. Hissing in my face, his mouth wide open. His baby fangs sparkled. Taunting me.

  He thought he was so badass. Time to show him what badass was.

  “You know what, Rob?” In a single, swift movement, I let go, reeled my right arm back, and punched as hard as I could, smashing my fist against his jaw. “Bite this.”

  Pain exploded up my arm, so complete it stole my breath. Punching wasn’t like in the movies at all. Punching hurt. But I’d gotten good at compartmentalizing pain, and I tucked it away, a distant thrum in the back of my head. Something to deal with later. I was savoring this moment too much to bother with pain.

  Clouds drifted overhead, sending a splash of moonlight over us. It glimmered over a ribbon of blood dribbling down the side of his cheek. He turned his face and spat. A small object landed on the gravel, gray in the darkness.

  Both our eyes widened, realizing at the same moment.

  I’d knocked out a fang.

  He let loose some primal, nonsensical yell, and I pulled back as he popped to his feet. Holding an arm in front of his mouth, he stared at me. Our eyes held and locked for a weird, long moment, both of us panting for breath. He looked confused, unable to make sense of what’d just happened. At that moment, I couldn’t either.

  What became of a Trainee bested like this? What was a vampire without both his fangs?

  He stepped backward, faded into the night. Disappeared.

  Carden was right. I was stronger. Even stronger than I’d realized. I was supersized.

  By the time I went inside, dumped my stuff in the locker room, rinsed off, and hit the pool, I was in a grand mood. I felt expansive, filled with a sense of anticipation. What would happen next? Would I tell anyone about it? Would people just find out? I’d need to ask Carden if he’d ever seen anything like this.

  It fed my workout. I glided through the water. I was a missile. A great aquatic mammal. I surpassed my record, holding my breath for a whole 147 seconds. I was on the deck toweling off, still riding my high, when Josh appeared.

  “Heya, nerd bird,” he said in that cute Aussie accent of his. He stole
a glance at the clock—we were closing in on curfew. “Never thought I’d see you here this time of day.” He scanned the deck and pool, which was emptying out as students began to hit the showers. “I don’t see Ronan, which means you’re here…of your own…choice? Hold on. Is apocalypse nigh?”

  “Shut up.” I nudged him with my shoulder.

  Unfortunately, this reminded me how scantily clad we both were.

  Josh wore the standard-issue swimsuit, which for the guys was a pair of supertight boxer briefs—emphasis on super. Those things probably outlined more than I needed to see, but I couldn’t say because there was no way in hell I was looking down. And besides, my eyes had snagged on his upper body. He was lean but muscled, walking that line guys tread at our age—almost a man yet still almost a boy, too—though Josh was definitely tipping over into the almost-man side of that equation.

  I tore my eyes away, pointing my gaze in the direction he was looking. Kenzie, my Proctor, was the last one in the water, still doing her laps. She had this trick of gliding all the way across the Olympic-sized pool and back again. Without taking a breath.

  “She’s amazing,” he said.

  I nodded. She was a blur of blond hair and navy blue Speedo. Her hair was a perfect bob to match her perfectly proportioned body. “She’s always reminded me of one of those American Girl dolls.”

  “Yeah, if there were an MMA version.”

  “MM…ohh, mixed martial arts?” I watched her, all sleek perfection. She was solid, but not buff like I imagined those MMA women would be. “Nah. More like…American Ninja Girl.”

  “That’s it,” he exclaimed, clapping his hand on my shoulder, a naked slap that made me self-conscious. “You seen her weapons? Those sai knives?” His Australian accent lilted at the end, making his every sentence sound like it might’ve been a question. “Like a manga chick.”

  It’d been Yasuo who’d told me what those knives of hers were called. She carried two of them, long and thin, each blade framed by two sharp prongs, making them look almost like tridents. They did seem like something a manga badass would wield.