The Vampire Keeper

by Sabrina Street

  “I hope so! Anyway, it’s feeling much better. I am sorry that I fell asleep on you last night. I must have been super tired.”

  “It’s okay. I needed to go study for my chem. test anyway, which was a waste since school is canceled. I guess it’s a true snow day for me,” he said as he released a rather loud chuckle.

  She giggled alongside him, “Well, think of it as less to study later.”

  “Yeah, I suppose. Well, I am going to take a nap. I’ll text you later to see what you’re doing on this rare snow day.”

  A huge smiled crossed her face. “I know it never snows here. That’s why it’s so awesome, because it never sticks.”

  “Yeah, it took a while for me to get used to the warm winters here; I was used to twenty degree winters in Wisconsin.”

  “Burr,” said Jezalyn, pretending to shiver at the thought of a winter colder than Louisiana’s average forty-five, fifty. “That’s too cold for me. I think the last time it was this cold was when I was seven; it snowed so much we built snowmen and made snow angles.” After pausing for a minute she realized she was babbling, which she felt was too soon to do at this stage of their relationship, so she added rather briskly at the end of her last response, “Well, I will let you go so you can catch up on your sleep.”

  “Okay.”

  “Text me later,” she added, as a confirmation of their future plan.

  “Okay.”

  Following the hang-up, Jezalyn threw the phone on the bed. Her heart felt like it was about to burst as she did a little dance of excitement. She stopped in front of the window to observe once more the beauty of the scene that lay before her. Jezalyn thought, Yes, No school today! And I am off of work! Hmm, what should I do? Maybe Ana will have a candle I can borrow. Jezalyn pulled her hair back and was about to put on her slippers when, out the corner of her eye, she saw the mythology book she borrowed from Wyler poking out from under the bed. I should return this, thought Jezalyn scooping up the book.

  ***

  “She is awake…” blurted out Larkin as the silence in his head was broken. After a few minutes of being made privy to her prattling, he found himself wishing Jezalyn was still asleep, for whilst she was asleep there was silence since she was not a dreamer. If she only slept longer! he thought, letting the book rest on the closest shelf. Suddenly, he felt an unrecognizable sensation. Clutching his chest, he blurted out, “What was that?” Initially, Larkin thought, she must be in pain; however, after a moment of reflection he concluded that it was emotional not physical. No, not pain. Excitement! I almost mistook it for anxiety. Taking a few steps, he thought, Whoa—that was a rush. I haven’t felt excitement in a long time.

  The thrill took Larkin by surprise, leaving him unaware of his location, until he heard Jezalyn’s footsteps approaching. He darted past the counter and back into the underground apartment before Jezalyn could take another full step. Pressing his back hard against the apartment entrance, Larkin realized he left the memoir box open on the bookshelf. Tugging at his hair, he muttered, “Ah! I forgot to lock my memoirs.”

  ***

  Upon reaching the shop, Jezalyn proceeded over to the area where Wyler had retrieved her book. Jezalyn scanned the book titles until she came across a few that seemed to be in her book category. Using her left hand to sweep back an opening, she deposited her borrowed book between Ancient Greek Playwrights and Greek Myth and Legends. As she turned to leave, her shirtsleeve caught the edge of Larkin’s wooden book that resembled a box, and it fell to the floor. A clatter arose from the open clasp as it hit the floor.

  “What was that?” blurted out Jezalyn. Looking down in alarm, an “Oh” escaped out of her mouth. I hope I didn’t break it. Wyler will fire me! He will kill me then fire me.

  Jezalyn glanced around as she quickly picked up the book and examined it, “This looks really old.” After inspecting the front and finding no damage, she flipped it over to check the back. With the book flipped upside down, the clasp hung down to the side. She released the left side to grasp the hanging clasp when the top flipped open and the bundled pages hit the floor. “Oh no! I did break it,” she cried. Once she picked up the bundle, she examined the book trying to find a quick fix, and discovered with great relief that she had not broken it. Jezalyn had, however, found the book’s secret. It was not a book, but a secret box disguised as a book. This is cool. I wonder who this belonged to, thought Jezalyn as she examined the somewhat tattered bundle for hints. She noticed that the paper was old and discolored as if someone had spilled coffee or tea over it. The pages were thin and tattered around the corners, which could easily cause the edges to crumble away if mishandled. Jezalyn noticed the font style, I think these ink scribble marks are handwritten, which led her to believe that she was holding either an extremely old book or someone’s journal.

  ***

  Larkin did an about face so that he could crack the door open with ease. He pressed his forehead against the door to peer out of the small crack that he made. She found it! Maybe she will be uninterested and put it back—Oh, please let her put—

  His thought were interrupted, It is hard to see what it’s about in this dim light. Hmm–, Wyler did say I could read anything, so I will take it upstairs where I can see better.

  Larkin found himself enraged at his thoughts being interrupted again. I must get rid of her. I cannot have her interrupting my thoughts all the time. I don’t know what is worse the interruptions or her emotions. The sensation quickly faded before he could act on it, and Larkin now cringed at the thought of his memoir being read by someone other than himself. He thought, I have to get them back…, but Jezalyn interrupted him again, What was I thinking. I can’t read in the dark. In all the excitement of finding a unique piece of work, Jezalyn forgot to go ask Ana for a candle. Once Jezalyn gently placed the writings on her coffee table, she ran back down the stairs.

  When he realized that Jezalyn was headed his way, Larkin blurted out, “Shit! Shit!” She is coming down here. Where is she? Do I have time to sneak out and retrieve them? Think, Girl! Let me know where you are. He heard footsteps approaching, so he eased the door shut and dashed into Wyler’s room.

  Larkin pulled Ana out of bed, “Ana, get up. Jezalyn’s at the door and she wants to borrow a candle. Give her the candle and tell her you are going back to bed. Say whatever it takes to get rid of her quickly!”

  “A candle?”

  “Yes. Here give her this one.” Larkin grabbed a pink candle off the nightstand and pushed it into Ana’s hand.

  Ana, still half-asleep, mumbled something to the effect, “But this is my favorite—”

  Larkin cut her off, “Just give her the damn candle.”

  Ana, completely awakened by his tone, took the candle, rushed to the door, and opened it.

  Jezalyn stood in front of Wyler and Ana’s apartment door with her fist raised about to knock when it opened. Caught by surprise and with her hand still slightly raised, Jezalyn uttered, “Um, hi. The lights are out and I was wondering if you have a candle that I could borrow.”

  Extending the candle toward her, Ana said, “I guess great minds think alike. I was just on my way to check on you. You saved me a trip—take this one.” Jezalyn thanked Ana as she took the candle and proceeded to tell her about the weather report. Ana, trying to follow Larkin’s directions said, “You’re welcome. Well, now that you have the candle, I think I’ll go back to bed.”

  “Okay. Well, my classes were canceled because of the weather. I just love snow days.” Ana nodded, and as Jezalyn turned to leave she heard the door bang shut.

  Ana returned to the bedroom, where she found Larkin and Wyler whispering to each other. Ana sat down on the bed holding her head submissively down. “I gave her the candle like you requested. I am sorry I questioned you earlier; I was half asleep.”

  Larkin said nothing, but glowered at Wyler. They both got up to leave the room. Ana observed their behavior. She had never seen Larkin this unnerved since the mishap with the last tenant.
Her curiosity got the better of her, so she dared to ask, “What’s going on? Larkin, is everything all right?”

  They stopped, turned, and glared at her. After a moment’s pause Wyler said, “We might as well tell her. She is going to find out eventually.”

  Larkin contemplated a moment more and spoke, “I can hear and feel Jezalyn.”

  “How is that possible?” and before Wyler could respond to his wife’s alarm she blurted out, “Unless you drank her blood! When—Why—You drank her blood!”

  Wyler swallowed hard before he responded, “Bunny, don’t get mad, but we had a little accident yesterday.”

  Ana stood up and retorted, “What accident? Tell me what happened!”

  Knowing Wyler would try to calm her before relating the story, Larkin took over and gave her a rundown of events so that he could get back to recovering his book. “Wyler let Jezalyn make me a cup of tea. She cut her hand opening the sugar bag and some of the blood must have dropped into the cup. Not realizing that blood may have dripped in the cup, he brought the tea down to me. Now I’m connected to Jezalyn because I drank the blood-spiked tea. However, my main concern at the moment is not the incident that bonds her every thought and emotion to me, but my memoir she found and just brought back to her room to read.”

  “Oh, my giddy aunt! How did she get your memoir?” asked Ana as if that now took precedence over the inevitable outcome of Larkin having drunk her blood.

  Growing irritated, Larkin answered, “It’s unimportant how she got it. The important thing is to get it back—” Stopping abruptly, he mentally finished his thought, Because it holds my dearest and darkest secrets.

  “Don’t worry; she will probably think it’s an old book. We should just relax. I don’t think we should make this into that big of a deal,” retorted Ana.

  Wyler, seeing Larkin aggravated with the simple dismissal of the situation, told his wife, “What if she figures out it is a real journal? Do you know what kind of problems it could cause for us?”

  Careful not to betray his own insecurities, Larkin interjected the simplest explanation, “I need it back before she discovers vampires are real.”

  It finally dawned on Ana what was at stake and she began to think of a plan to help reunite Larkin with his memoir. Larkin was having a hard time coming up with an effective plan, since Jezalyn’s thoughts were still interrupting his.

  ***

  Jezalyn was overjoyed to find the stove was gas and not electric. She made herself a cup of hot tea to drink before sitting down to read. Larkin, with concern in his voice, announced, “She’s finished making her tea and is about to sit down to read.”

  Ana blurted out, “I got it! One of us can sneak upstairs and grab it when she comes down for work.”

  Wyler shaking his head said, “Nope. That won’t work. She is off today.” After a short pause, Wyler continued, “How about this? Larkin, you’re bound to Jezalyn, which allows you to keep track of her thoughts, right? If you follow her progression, we will find out what type of book she thinks she is reading.”

  Ana responded, “Yeah, that’s a good idea. What do you think, Larkin?”

  Larkin stared at them, “Well, it’s not like her thoughts are going to go away—unless she miraculously dies.”

  Wyler glanced over, “Well that’s the other option. We could either kill or turn her. One or the other will have to take place eventually. Which one would you prefer?” Although the question ‘which one you prefer’ slipped out of Wyler’s mouth with ease, he cringed inside. Wyler hated the thought of having to be so callous, but as Larkin’s Keeper it was his job to provide all the options and follow through with whatever Larkin would decide.

  However, Ana, unlike her husband, was unable to contain her emotion, and distressed by the nature of the sudden change in topic, she interjected, “She has family that would come searching for her.”

  Wyler said, “So did Julius, but we’ve managed to evade that problem and remain here at home.”

  “That’s true,” said Larkin with a smirk.

  Wyler made a grim face, ready to have the unpleasant situation behind him, he asked, “So which will it be—immediate death or death for eternity?”

  Larkin did not respond right away. He placed his hands on his head and rubbed his temples trying to think clearly. Only one thought came to mind, I should have snapped her neck when I realized it was her blood that I consumed. Without removing his hands he finally said, “I am not quite sure. First, let’s get the book back. I will decide what to do with her afterwards.” He paused a moment before ordering, “Just go back to bed. I will monitor her thoughts.”

  Ana and Wyler went back to bed as Larkin returned to his bed, or rather his usual resting spot on the living room floor. Larkin propped up his feet on the couch, closed his eyes, and listened to Jezalyn’s voice echoing in his head.

  Chapter 6: The Memoir

  Jezalyn took a sip of her hot tea as she sat down on the worn couch; it was surprisingly more comfortable than it looked. She carefully untied the frayed twine and lightly tossed it to the other side of the couch. She gently laid the bundle on the cushion next to her, picked up the first page, and began to read.

  ***

  After leaving Wyler and Ana in the bedroom, Larkin returned to his normal spot on the floor, propped his feet on the couch, closed his eyes, and listened to Jezalyn’s voice as it echoed in his head.

  It was during the War of the Roses that we met her. She was the most beautiful creature I ever beheld. She had long, wavy auburn hair that fell against her heart shaped face and flowed over her shoulders and down her back. Her honeyed skin set off the most stunning emerald eyes that I had ever seen on a woman. I was so enamored by the exquisiteness of her beauty that I would do anything that she asked of me, so when she asked me to become her Keeper I did not refuse. I gladly gave my life and soul to make sure she was not harmed or presumed to be a witch.

  ***

  Jezalyn could not make out the next few paragraphs, so she put the page down and picked up the next one as she thought, I wonder, what a Keeper is? And, is she really a witch?

  ***

  Larkin never heard anyone relate his most confidential personal feelings. “Just keep reading about my once beloved and you will find out,” he mumbled answering her question. Soon, the sound of Jezalyn’s voice returned.

  My brother returned home and discovered her. He was about to turn me in for harboring what he thought was a witch, but before he could, I placed a small seed of doubt in his mind. Not wanting to falsely accuse his own brother, he agreed to go down and meet Isadora in person. He introduced himself to her as a distant relation. He did not give his name, Theron Drythe, in case she should turn out to be a witch and later report, out of anger, against him in court. Either way he found her as beautiful as I had, so he decided to devote himself to keeping her safe. Every morning she brought us a special tea. She said the elixir had magical abilities, like the beloved fountain of youth, that would not stop us from aging, but make us age more slowly. We aged only one year for every ten as long as we drank at least a sip or two of the special tea every day. Life as a Keeper was thrilling, for every day was met with the sweetness of sustainable youth. It was within a short period of time that my devotions turned to tender admiration, but I was in no hurry to secure her affections since I now had time on my side. I was more subtle with my actions of love, while my brother was more forceful at declaring his.

  ***

  Jezalyn soon found herself at the end of the page. I wonder who she will choose, she thought as she eagerly scooped up the next page and continued to read.

  I brought her flowers today. They were not her favorite flowers, because spider lilies are not in season. I gathered ordinary lilies, placed spiders on them, and left them on her little table while she was out. When she returned to her room, they were the first thing she noticed. I watched her reaction from the window as she giggled and smiled at the token.

  ***

  Je
zalyn paused and Larkin realized that he was holding his breath and his heart was pounding. The tension in his throat seemed to move to his stomach, but he was able to dismiss it with the sound of Jezalyn’s voice, though not for long, for Jezalyn was about to reveal the first reassurance Larkin ever received from the woman he most ardently admired.

  When I went to bed that night I found a folded handkerchief under my pillow. Once unfolded, it revealed the impression of red lips. I lay there with it clutched to my chest dreaming of what it would be like for her lips to be upon mine.

  ***

  She paused again and Larkin felt his heart pound and his breath quicken. He could feel a pressure building in his throat and the pit of his stomach, a familiar but bittersweet sensation. Oh, please let her tire of these recollections. They are resurfacing too many old feelings that I thought were dead and buried… and his plea was unheard, for her thoughts once again interrupted his. Larkin soon realized her thoughts were of him and his brother. He listened to her analyze the recollections of his personal journal. Jezalyn thought, I knew it. I would have gone for the more subtle one also, who wants someone forceful and full of themselves. People like that feel they are more deserving, so they just take, take, take, and never give.

  Suddenly a flood of nostalgia washed over him as he remembered the sweet tokens of love that passed between them, time seemed to intensify their love. He also recollected the first time he stole a kiss; they were outside in a grove picking berries in the moonlight. He felt the warmth of the moonlight as it glimmered over her face when his lips touched hers for the first time. After this, he could only conclude that his feelings were unmistakable in spite of the expanse of time since his beloved Isadora first awakened his emotions.

  ***

  Jezalyn’s cell phone rang, so she set down the page and ran into the bedroom to answer it. “Hello. Hi, Grandpa. How are you this morning?”

  “I am good. I saw there was bad weather up that way last night. Are you alright up there?” he questioned. Jezalyn peered out the window and took in the picturesque scene once again. Her thoughts were interrupted by her grandpa’s voice, “Hey! I said is everything okay up there?”