Keeper Chronicles: Awakening (35 page)

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Authors: Katherine Wynter

BOOK: Keeper Chronicles: Awakening
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“I’m going to kill you!” she screamed, though the sharpness of her anger was dulled by his magic.

His dolls were always there in his mind: lurking, talking, or screaming. Little effort was needed to activate her voice. “Princess? Princess, is that you?” he asked in her voice.

“Mom?”

“I’m here, princess. It’s almost over, baby. I promise. Just do what he says, and everything’ll be fine.”

The human looked at him hard then spat in his face. “I’ll never trust you.”

Wiping the offending liquid off on his sleeve, he leaned down like he was going to say something but instead slapped her in the face.

“Fight all you want,” he snarled, letting his face transform back to its demonic form, “but you’re only prolonging the inevitable.”

She tried to scoot back, her wrists bloodying as she pulled against the rope. Her voice broke. “Gabe will come for me. I know he will.”

He laughed, inhaling the scent of her blood. “Your boyfriend’s dead. I made sure of it myself. You see, when that house exploded, he was in the basement looking after poor Mr. and Mrs. Wythrop. Gas fires are so nasty—exploding with the force of small bombs. They’re impossible to survive, even for Keepers.”

Tears flowed more freely down her face, but this time he made no move to stop them. “You’re lying,” she whispered.

“I am a lot of things, little Keeper, but a liar isn’t one of them.” He gave a mock salute. “Boy Scout’s honor.”

One of the instruments beeped. The demon returned his face to something less frightening—that of her mother—and looked around until he saw the small green screen with the scattering of blimps. As the echo of thunder reached inside the small house, he figured out what he was looking at: lightning. Their energies gathered overhead as if they knew they’d soon get a chance to devour the world.

He needed to end this and complete the sacrifice.

Wearing her mother’s face and figure, he put a few drops of his blood into a cup of water and brought it over to her. “You must be thirsty. Come on, drink it up.” She kept her mouth closed, turning her head as he brought the cup to her lips, so he had to hold her still and force her to drink, running his fingers down her throat to make her swallow.

“There,” he said with her mother’s voice. “All better.”

In a few minutes when the hallucinations kicked in, she’d believe anything he told her. Or, better yet, anything her dear mother said.

****

Rebekah blinked, struggling to clear her eyes of tears with her hands tied up. Colors and lights swirled around rhythmically, pulsing with each heartbeat. She tried to hold on to the truth—that the woman staring at her from across the room wasn’t her mother but the man who had killed her. The monster who’d killed Gabe.

A demon that could change his appearance.

“Just kill me,” she whispered. Snowflakes drifting in through the open door settled on her naked skin. She wanted to cover herself, to rub her arms for warmth, but couldn’t.

“Why would I want to do that?” her mom asked, brow knit with concern.

“You’re not my mother,” Rebekah closed her eyes against the images. If she didn’t look, he couldn’t trick her. He couldn’t win. “I won’t give you what you want, so just kill me and be done with it.”

“No, sweetie. I’d never do that. I love you.”

“You’re lying.”

The bed sunk ever so slightly as someone sat down next to her. “Remember the day you left for college and I baked you that bag of chocolate chip cookies?”

Even with her eyes closed, she could smell the sweetness of the cookies, feel the warmth in the air from the ovens as if she again stood in the kitchen. “You wanted me to remember home,” she said.

“That’s right. And do you remember what you told me when you called that night?”

Rebekah smiled. Of course she did. “I’d gotten my things put away at the dorm. My roommate had gone to some party, and I missed you and Dad.”

“So what did you do?”

“Ate all the cookies at once.” Rebekah opened her eyes and looked at her mother. “You laughed and made a new batch. Then you came down that weekend to bring something I’d forgotten, but really you just missed me, too.”

She saw everything as if it happened again. Her mother had worn a sundress and one of those big floppy hats with the wide rims. They spent the day shopping in town and doing the tourist thing, just the two of them. Laughing like girls and driving around in the convertible her mom had rented for the drive.

Her mom reached out and touched her face. “I love you, princess. Your father and I were always proud of you.”

Rebekah wanted to believe those words, to believe that her mother was back in the room with her and they were at home and none of the terrible things from the last few months had really happened.

But she couldn’t.

Her mother was dead. This thing staring down at her, no matter how convincing or realistic, wasn’t her mother. He was the one who had killed her. The boom of thunder shook the small house, jangling the few pots hanging from the ceiling. The sound brought her back to reality.

Letting him know that, however, would be a mistake. “I love you, too.”

“I know. Look, I’m going to untie your hands now, okay. Then I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything,” she answered. Once her hands were free, she’d kill that demon. Choke him with his own rope—at least, choke one of the three versions swimming in front of her eyes.

As the image of her mother bent over her, all the familiar creases at the corners of her eyes and the freckle by her nose she always seemed so proud of, Rebekah leaned up and inhaled the fresh aroma of baked cookies and potpourri and earth that always hung around the woman. No. She tried to remind herself that what she saw wasn’t real, wasn’t her mother.

But even the way she touched—gentle, yet with resolve—was right. Just like she remembered. Looking at her felt like being at the memorial all over again. The ache of loss flared back up.

“What’s wrong, princess?”

“You’re not real,” she whispered. “But I miss you so much.”

“No need for these tears.” Her mother untied the last knot. “Not anymore. We’ll be together soon. You, me, and dad. All of us. But first, I need you to do something for me. Can you do that? Will you do a favor for your mother?” Rubbing her newly freed wrists, Rebekah sat up. Her mom continued. “There’s something evil inside you. Growing. I need you to cut it out for me. A sacrifice to prove your love.”

“A sacrifice?”

“That’s right, princess. It’ll only hurt for a minute. Then we can be together.”

Rebekah looked down at the dagger that appeared suddenly in her hand. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Cut out the child inside you and give it to me. If you love me, you’ll do this.”

Another peal of thunder, this time fainter. Distant. An echo of a life she’d once lived. She tightened her grip around the hilt of the dagger. She knew what she had to do to make her mother love her. Knew her responsibility.

Her duty.

“I love you, Mom,” she whispered and plunged the blade deep into her stomach. “But you’ll never get this child. It dies now. Safely inside me where you can’t get its blood.”

****

When they arrived at the Meceta Head lighthouse, thunderheads gathering in intensity overhead and occasional strikes hitting the water, Gabe knew something had gone wrong. Slamming the car to a stop, he jumped out and rushed over to the two bodies lying sprawled on the ground at the base of the tower.

The topmost belonged to the demon, Adam.

The bottom body, however, was Colette’s. Thick red blood, too much, spread around them like a lake.

“No,” Nicholas whispered, his hand over his mouth as he brushed the blonde hair out of his wife’s face. “Please don’t be dead.”

Despite the stiffness of his burns and sensitivity in his fingers, Gabe pulled the demon off the top of the Hunter and sighed.

Two throwing daggers stuck out of Adam’s body, one from his heart and the other his throat. The blood hadn’t been Colette’s. It’d belonged to the demon.

The French woman opened her eyes. “Where’s Jenna?” she asked, coughing. “Is she safe?”

Nicholas examined her quickly, feeling along his wife’s body for more injury as Gabe looked anywhere else. His voice was relieved. “Mia took her away for safe keeping. I’ll call when it’s clear for them to come back. How do you feel? Think you can sit up?”

Colette nodded. With painfully slow movements, her husband helped her to sit up. Gabe couldn’t stand watching them. Couldn’t stand the delay keeping him from finding Rebekah. It’d been too long since she’d been taken. For all he knew, she was dead already. That hers had been the death he’d felt in the gun safe.

“Colette,” he said, kneeling down next to her despite the pain in his own legs, “did you see Dylan or Rebekah on your way up here? It’s very important.”

She looked confused. “No. Why?”

Nicholas answered for him. “My first theory was right—two demons have been hunting this region. Dylan was the second.”

“How could he be the second?” she asked, holding her ribs. “He had taken human form when the one called Adam made his first kill.”

“She’s right. Keeper, if we’re going to find Rebekah, I need some answers. Besides the previous Keeper of this tower, has anyone in your region died in the last year?” the bookish Hunter asked, adjusting his glasses in thought.

“My fiancé. Juliette, and Rebekah’s mother.” Gabe picked up a small rock and sent it hurtling into the trees. “It was about six months ago out at Killamook. I had been away getting supplies. It’d been a beautiful day, no storms forecasted, so we hadn’t expected any trouble. I thought I’d killed it. I tracked that one myself through three states before watching it smash against some rocks at the bottom of a ravine. Nothing could have survived that fall.”

Nicholas put one hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, but that’s a rooky Hunter’s mistake. Most demons can’t be killed by a fall. It probably waited down there until you were gone before leaving; it’s probably been stalking the region since then, looking for an opening.”

“So you’re telling me it’s my fault Rebekah’s in danger? I did this to her?”

“No, of course not.” Grabbing her husband’s arm, Colette stood with a wince. She kept her left foot off the ground; it’d probably been broken by the fall. “The demon did this. Not you. We need to get to that tower.”

Gabe shook his head. “No, this is something I have to do by myself. I need you two to get back to headquarters and see what you can do, then work on containment.”

The Hunter’s exchanged a look. “We can’t let you do that. This first-order is our responsibility. You should go to the office. You look like you’ve just had a burning house dropped on you.”

“I don’t have time to argue,” Gabe ran a hand through his hair and coughed, doubling over. He waved the Hunters away. “You have a little girl. If I had a child...” He stopped himself. “I’m doing this.”

He ran back to the car, jumping in and starting the vehicle before either Hunter had a chance to catch up. He spun in a quick circle, slamming on the gas as he took off down the gravel lane, the brooding clouds overhead darkening everything like ash. Other people had suffered too much for his mistakes already. Killing Dylan was something he had to do by himself.

The quickest way to get out to Killamook was his boat, but when he ran down the Coast Guard docks where he’d tied it up that morning, it was gone. The demon would have known where he’d leave it because of Juliette’s memories. One of the Coast Guard patrol boats, larger and faster than his own, stood docked nearby, the keys in the ignition. Gabe took that.

Snowfall and the rising storm made the waters extra choppy once he got a little ways away from land, but he didn’t slow down. He hadn’t been there when Juliette needed him; he refused to do the same for Rebekah.

The demon would think he’d killed Gabe in the fire; that gave Gabe the element of surprise. Unfortunately, having to tie up at the docks would negate that. Being impossible to sneak up on was one of the island’s main defenses; only now that defense worked against him. If he abandoned the boat out at sea and swum the final distance, the time delay might cost her life. As it was, Dylan already had quite a head start.

In the end, he decided to take his chances docking since speed was his primary need. Besides his two machetes, he was weaponless. Looking in a couple of the cabinets as he steered the Coast Guard vessel, he found a harpoon gun and brought that as well.

Cutting the engine, he floated the final few feet up to the docks, jumping out and tying one quick knot to keep the boat from drifting away.

Heart racing, he charged onto the island with the harpoon aimed in front of him.

The door to his small house stood open. Juliette walked out.

“Gabe?” she asked. “Is that you?”

Her dark hair blowing in the breeze, snowflakes falling around her, she started to run up to him. “Stop right there.” Gabe leveled the harpoon at her chest.

“What are you doing? It’s me. Juliette.”

She was right. It was her down to the crooked smile and the way she held her head tilted just so to the side. The pain in her face broke his heart all over again. “Jules...” he hesitated, lowering the harpoon ever so slightly. “I...”

“It’s going to be okay,” she whispered, holding her hands out for him as her voice began to lull him into complacency. “You’re safe now. With me. I love you.”

The harpoon dropped from his fingers, clattering against the rocky island. Juliette had come back for him. Wanted to be with him. He should trust her to know what’s best. He stepped toward her.

“Gabe!” Rebekah’s faint scream shocked him out of the stupor.

The thing that looked like his dead fiancé grinned then held her hands up in defeat. “It was worth a shot,” she said, winking.

Grabbing the harpoon off the rocks, he aimed it at the demon.

“You would shoot the love of your life?” the thing wearing Juliette’s body asked with a chuckle. “Naughty, naughty, Keeper.”

“Beks! Are you okay?” he shouted, hoping she could hear him inside the house.

No answer.

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