Blaise found hope in the break and requested, “How about a cup of coffee, tea, or whatever you want?”
She made no response, so he continued, “We can talk this out. I know we can.”
Jezalyn picked at the wood on the shelf as she finally replied, “Okay.”
They decided to meet at a little coffee shop in the shopping center a few blocks from the university at three o’clock. After the arrangements to meet were in place, Blaise told her he loved her and hung up the phone.
Chapter 21: Astonishing Responses
Wyler was getting in his vehicle when he saw Larkin entering Julius’s house. Irritation soon followed this observation as Wyler thought, If I knew Larkin was going to visit, it could have saved me a trip. Then again, never being informed about things until after they turned south was part of his life as a Keeper. It was not in his power to demand the knowledge of Larkin’s every movement much less Julius’s. Besides, he found himself worrying more if he did know, so he never pressed the issue. He knew if either truly needed him then they would inform him, so as not to disturb their meeting Wyler checked his watch and backed out of the driveway. Jezalyn was supposed to get off in twenty minutes and he was still thirty minutes out. Wyler tried to speed, but he was stuck following a Parish cop, so he called the shop to inform Jezalyn about his delay. He became startled as he heard a male’s voice say, “Hello.”
Wyler checked his phone to make sure he had dialed the correct number before he intensely demanded, “Who is this?” Wyler could not imagine what man would be answering the phone at the shop with both Larkin and himself out.
“It’s me,” respond the manly voice on the other line.
“And who is me?” but before the voice could respond, Wyler asked another question, “Where is Jezalyn?”
“Monroe. Why?”
Wyler shook his head in disbelief as he recognized the familiarity of the man’s serious tone. An overwrought Wyler slammed on the breaks and bellowed out, “Larkin!”
“Yes, what is wrong with you? If it’s about the shop, don’t worry I got it covered.”
“We have a serious problem,” replied Wyler as he turned his car around and drove back in the other direction.
“Now what?” responded an extremely aggravated Larkin?
“First off, you’re at the shop.”
“Yes,” broke in Larkin with a condescending tone, “thanks for stating the obvious. I’ll let you know if I burn down the shop.”
Larkin could hear Wyler take a deep breath before he continued, “Secondly, I watched you go into Julius’s house less than twenty minutes ago. Unless you developed the ability to be in two places at once we have a serious problem.”
Wyler heard the crackling of plastic and knew Larkin was clenching the phone with his fist as he mumbled one name, “Theron.”
“Don’t worry; I am only about ten minutes from Julius now.”
“Wyler, don’t enter when you get there; it’s too much of a risk. If Theron is back, it’s only to wage a vendetta against me.”
“I know; it includes me too, but am I supposed to let him rip Julius apart?”
“I’m on foot, so I’ll meet you there soon. Don’t go in, wait outside for me!” was the last demand Wyler heard accompanied by a loud clang. Wyler had gathered that Larkin had dropped the phone since the clang was followed by silence and not a dial tone.
It had been a long time since he had broken a law, but now he found an acceptable reason. Wyler felt free and invincible; the adrenaline pumped through him as he sped down the highway back to Julius. Soon he found himself in Epps, and Wyler spotted Theron getting into an old black car parked almost a block from Julius’s house. Wyler pulled into a parking lot across the street and waited for Theron to drive off. Wyler exited his car as the tail lights disappeared around the corner. He ran up the driveway, not waiting for Larkin. Wyler felt he was in no danger since he had personally witnessed Theron’s departure.
Wyler abruptly entered the house to find it filled with smoke. The air he let in upon entering the house fed the fire causing the smoke to grow thicker. Wyler covered his mouth and nose with the top of his shirt as he dropped to his knees and crawled across the floor. He crawled toward a figure lying on the floor. When he reached the body, he discovered it was not Julius. The body was female; it looked like a bear had attacked her. She had deep scratches and torn tissue where her jugular vein used to be. Wyler hunted for Julius, trying not to rub his burning eyes as he crawled toward two more bodies that lay motionless.
When he reached the bodies, he discovered one was Julius and the other another female. Wyler pulled Julius onto his back to discover a large hole in his chest. He coughed as he examined Julius, but Wyler found himself stunned to discover Julius holding his own heart. He pried the heart from his hand and shoved it back into his chest cavity. Wyler knew from experience that he needed blood if he had any chance of saving Julius, so he checked the girl lying next to him. She had a pulse, although it was faint. He opened Julius’s mouth, pulled her arm over it, and slit her wrist with Julius’ protruding fang. He watched as the blood slowly drained into his mouth. Wyler realized she did not have enough blood left in her to revive him, so he laid the girl’s open wrist in Julius’s mouth.
The fire blazed all around them. Even though Wyler’s face and lungs were completely exposed to the smoke, he continued as if he was immune but all the while coughing uncontrollably. Still trying to block out the clouds of gray smoke that flood around him, Wyler pulled off his shirt and gathered it into a bundle and pressed it tightly over his face. With one last effort to save Julius, he grabbed a piece of broken glass hovered his wrist above the exposed heart and with one swift swipe slit his own wrist. The blood pooled up around Julius’s non-beating heart as Wyler lay collapsed face down on his bundled shirt over Julius’s chest.
***
Wyler awoke outside in an ambulance. An oxygen mask covered his face, and an EMT held out Wyler’s arm bandaging it with two fingers. The EMT noticed Wyler gained consciousness and quickly asked, “How many are inside?”
Wyler stared at him for a moment trying to focus before shaking his head back and forth in the hopes to deter anyone from searching the house. Wyler was not concerned about them discovering Julius since vampires burned to ashes; it was the female bodies, which seemed unlikely to turn to ash, strewn across the floor that worried him.
Larkin interrupted them, “I am the owner of this house. No one else was inside, besides him.”
“Well I will need to check you out also, sir.”
“There will be no need; I am fine.”
“Then you’re denying treatment?” asked the medic.
“Yes,” responded Larkin.
The EMT turned back to Wyler, “You should consider yourself lucky. It looks like you had minimal blood loss from your injury.” Pointing at a monitor, he continued, “Also, your pulse oximetry test shows that you have a mild case of smoke inhalation.”
“Ox- o- what?” asked Wyler pulling the oxygen mask off his face.
Placing the mask back over Wyler’s face, “You see this little white piece attached to your finger? It measures the degree of oxygen in your blood; however, since you lost some blood I think it would be best to get a chest x-ray to make sure your condition is not worse than what it appears,” said the EMT.
Wyler responded, “I am sure I am fine.”
“Okay, but if you start wheezing or have trouble breathing, I recommend that you go to the hospital immediately.”
Larkin interrupted, “I hate to break up this party, but, Wyler, I have to go.” Turning to the EMT, Larkin asked, “Where are you taking him, so I can send his wife?”
Before the medic could respond, Wyler took the mask off and said, “Wait I am coming with you!”
The medic pulled out a piece of paper for Wyler to sign, before letting him get out of the ambulance.
***
While Wyler was trying to save Julius’s life, Jezalyn was on he
r way to the coffee shop; it was almost three thirty before Jezalyn arrived at Rayne’s Coffee Corner, where she found Blaise patiently but nervously waiting. She entered the shop and Blaise hopped up to meet her, “Glad you made it. I got worried you changed your mind.”
Jezalyn responded nonchalantly, “Nah, just a little traffic.”
He guided her to the counter. “What would you like?” asked both Blaise and the barista.
She ordered a small hot chocolate without whip cream, and she sat down at the table next to the window while Blaise waited on her order. Sitting quietly, Jezalyn there to formulate a way to tell him about Larkin. She did not know how to handle the situation. Courtesy of her over protective grandfather, Jezalyn had never been afforded the luxury of having to broken-up with anyone. She did not want to hurt or lead anyone on either, and her confusion soon turned to anxiousness. Jezalyn rubbed her moist palm on her pant leg as she watched Blaise take her cup from the barista and walk back toward her. In that moment, she decided she would break it off without telling him about Larkin.
“Here you go,” said Blaise as he pushed the cup toward Jezalyn and took a seat.
“Thanks.” They sipped their drinks occasionally staring at one another waiting for the other to speak.
After a couple of minutes, Blaise asked, “How was your drive up?”
“Okay.”
After taking another sip of his drink, he asked, “So, how’s your hot chocolate?”
She replied, “Good,” but when she tried to take a sip, the hot steam met her lip, so she placed it back down in front of them creating an invisible barrier. “You said you wanted to talk; what do you have to say that I haven’t already heard?”
He sat there trying to construct a response. After a moment of empty silence, Jezalyn grabbed her bag and said, “Well, if you’re not going to talk, I’m leaving.”
Putting his hand out as a gesture for her not to get up, he said, “Wait, it’s just that I can’t tell you where I was last night. I am sorry.”
She placed her bag back down, “Why not?”
“Because, I just can’t, but I promise you it has nothing to do with me being with another woman.”
“Well if you don’t tell me, then this is the end,” said Jezalyn who felt somewhat relieved that she was breaking off the relationship without having to tell on herself.
He grabbed her hand, “Even if I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”
Somewhat intrigued at his secrecy, she urged him to tell her. “Well, your silence is resulting in the same outcome, so why don’t you just come clean, tell me the truth, and let the chips fall where they may.”
Blaise took a deep breath, leaned forward, and said, “I am a hunter. I was out hunting.”
“At night?” responded Jezalyn in disbelief.
“Yes.”
“Oh really, isn’t hunting at night illegal?”
“Yes.”
“Well, did you at least kill anything worth ruining our relationship over?”
“No, she got away.”
“She! I knew it! Where were you really at last night?”
He released a long sigh trying to hide his aggravation, “I was hunting,” but he was interrupted when Jezalyn mumbled under her breath, “Um- hmm, hunting for other females,” as she sat back in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest.
Blaise read her defensive posture and knew he had no choice but to tell her even if it was unbelievable.
Her eyes grew big as he said, “Yes, I was hunting a woman, but the truth is she is a vampire. I am a vampire hunter.”
Jezalyn glowered at him with her big green eyes and began to cry, but it was quickly snuffed out when she thought, He is absolutely insane, that is the lamest excuse in the whole world. How dare he insult my intelligence with this stupid lie? “It is one lie after another with you! Why is it so hard for you to tell me the truth?” she asked sharply.
Blaise retorted, “It’s the truth!”
Listening to him vigorously defend his claim made her glower. “Yeah, like it was the truth you were going home to work on your paper, or stayed at the library until three, or maybe the truth was what you told your roommate about staying at my house, but no, I guess you would rather me believe you were crazy than tell me the truth. Besides, if you’re not going to tell me the truth, at least you could do is come up with a more believable lie than hunting vampires.”
Blaise could only nod his head as he heard Jezalyn dismiss his claim with a mix of laughter and anger. “Well, what do you want to do?” he finally asked.
Overwhelmed, Jezalyn choked out, “I am sorry; I don’t believe or trust…” Jezalyn’s response lingered off because she knew not only could she not trust him, but also she could not trust herself. The schoolgirl crush she once had on Blaise was now replaced by an intensity she had never felt before with Larkin. She patted her face, composed herself, and scowled at him with disdain as she said, “Vampire slayer? Really!”
She shook her head as she got up and said, “Good-bye Blaise; I wish you all the best with whoever she is.”
Blaise watched her bolt out the door but did not follow. He knew any chance of them getting back together was over. He became angry with himself for not anticipating the depth of her reaction. He had thought perhaps she would believe him or would just get angry, but eventually would get over it, yet he never dreamed she would truly abandon their relationship.
Chapter 22: Tryst or Trap
Jezalyn wandered along the shopping strip mindlessly glancing into the windows. She had re-composed herself rather well after the disintegration of her relationship with Blaise. The only semblances to her previous distress were the cherry splotches under her eyes that had not yet faded. She had wandered several blocks from her vehicle. When Jezalyn realized the distance, she abruptly spun around stumbling directly into someone. “Excuse me,” she said trying to catch her balance as she clutched onto him for stability. Once Jezalyn regained her poise, she pressed her body and lips against his.
After recollecting they were in public, she pulled away and asked, “Hey, Larkin, I thought you were at the shop?”
He smiled and before he could answer, a clerk ran out the shop and interrupted them. “Mr. Drythe, you forgot your walking stick.”
“Thank you,” he said, taking the elegant stick out of the clerks grasp. Jezalyn’s eyes fixated on the stick, taking in its magnificent details. The body of the stick appeared to be carved out of a dark wood, but the part of the stick she gawked at was the top, where the hand would rest. The top was a silver ill-shaped ball with something engraved in the center of it. Jezalyn’s inspection of the engraving revealed that it was a crest with two symbols in the center; however, she could not quite make out the shapes.
He broke her gaze, when he forcefully tapped the ground before thrusting the stick under his arm.
“Wow, that’s a nice walking stick,” said Jezalyn.
“I am glad you like it.”
Trying to avert her eyes, she asked again, “So, what are you doing here?”
“I came to get this,” he said as he held the stick out for her to examine.
“It looks remarkably detailed,” said Jezalyn. She raised her finger, to match her focal point, and asked, “What’s that symbol on top?”
“Oh, nothing,” he replied pulling the engraving back out of view. “Are you busy? Can we go somewhere?”
“Um,” with a short glance at the coffee shop she responded, “Sure. Let’s go. I’m done here.”
She held his hand as he guided her to an old black car. He opened her door, and she remarked on his vehicle, “What kind of car is this?” as she willingly climbed in.
Entering the driver side door he responded, “It’s a 1973 Chevy Corvette.”
“It’s really nice.”
“I obtained it fully restored.”
After giving him a smile she asked, “So, where are we off to?”
“It’s a surprise,” he said holding up a handker
chief.
Jezalyn said, “What’s that for?” as she pointed at the blindfold with an alarmed expression on her face.
“It’s so the surprise isn’t ruined,” he said trying to hide his irritation at having to convince her to comply.
She reluctantly agreed as he slipped the blindfold over her eyes. Blaise trudged out the shop, just as the old black Chevy passed before him. It was not the model of the vehicle that caught Blaise’s eye, but the sight of the woman he loved blindfolded and being kidnapped. He strained to see, but could not make out the driver, so he ran behind the car screaming Jezalyn’s name as they sped away. He pulled out his phone as he ran toward his truck. “We have a problem. I think she has been kidnapped, permission to follow in pursuit.”
The masculine voice on the other end replied, “Granted, but do not engage. Check back in, when the alleged kidnapper arrives at a fixed destination, on how to proceed.”
“Yes, sir,” was his response and the line went dead.
They rode in silence for a while, before Jezalyn said, “Drythe, I can’t believe after all these months I never thought to ask you your last name.”
“I guess it wasn’t important to you.”
Jezalyn nervously laughed at his response before continuing, “It does sound familiar though.”
“Perhaps, you heard someone at the shop mention it,” was his only response.
He cranked up the radio and said, “We’ll be there in about forty minutes.”
She sat there silently trying to process the opera that blared in her ears, and when they finally reached their destination, Jezalyn happily welcomed the overwhelming silence when he killed the roar of his engine. She had always assumed she liked all music, but today she discovered that opera was almost as unbearable as her grandfather’s constant protective hovering.
Soon, Jezalyn heard the phrase “Here we are,” so he reached up and ripped off her blindfold. There was a decorative sign to the left that read, The Fowler House Country Inn.
A bed and breakfast, how sweet, she thought and kissed his cheek.
The Vampire Keeper Page 17