Keeper Chronicles: Awakening (5 page)

“I don’t like it.” Moore touched her forehead. The cut had almost completely healed, though it’d be an angry red for a few more hours. “It feels wrong.”

Gabe looked at her. “There’s something I haven’t told you. Lorek’s dead.”

“Lorek? But how? I didn’t feel anything.”

“You must have been unconscious. Everyone radioed in afterwards, except the two of you, and seeing as you’re alive...”

“It means he’s gone.” Moore turned like she was going to walk back to her patrol car when she whirled suddenly and grabbed his collar. “Lorek. Did you see him? Are you sure he died?”

Why was she acting so scared? “Not with my own eyes, but he’s the only one who didn’t check in. Your family’s fine. Jim radioed.”

“No, not him. Lorek’s daughter, Rebekah. If something got past her father, those people in that inn would be an all-you-can-eat buffet to a demon. The jolt you felt could have been her.”

He should have checked the inn first. Humans were always the priority in issues of containment. “Come on,” he said and held his hand out for the keys. “I’m driving.”

****

The dirt road to the Meceta Head Lighthouse and nearby bed-n-breakfast was muddy and treacherous, framed on both sides by thick pines whose arms drooped from the weight of the rain and pain needles. A fog had begun to gather around the fringes of the road, hovering on the edges of the golden beams cast by the patrol car’s headlights. Gabe gripped the wheel in both hands, his heart racing.

He’d been such an idiot. Rebekah was an innocent. She’d escaped the life of violence and death that was the keeper heritage. He’d thought the girl safe because she didn’t know the secret of her heritage—thought that meant it couldn’t be her who died. Moore had been right. Not living the life of a Keeper didn’t mean someone couldn’t die like one. He hit his hands against the steering wheel.
How could I have been so stupid?

Gabe looked over to see Moore studying him. “She’ll be all right, you know.”

“No,” he answered, dodging another pot hole, “she won’t. We’re either going to find her mutilated body and those of a dozen of the civilians, or we’ll have to break the news of her father’s death to her. No matter what happens when we get there, she won’t be all right. None of us are.”

Moore put her hand on his arm and squeezed in sympathy. “Gabe, Juliet...”

“Stop.” Gabe’s voice was as hard and cold as the cliff walls supporting the lighthouse. Memories of her soft hand caressing his, of the rose oil scent of her skin, and the taste of her lips like sweet apples came unbidden. He smothered them. “She has nothing to do with this. Nothing.”

Her silence said she didn’t believe him.

Thankfully, they passed the parking lot for the b-n-b a moment later and arrived at the house. Gabe flicked the headlights off, not wanting to spook the guests if nothing was amiss, and slowed down. The house was dark, lit only by a small fireplace whose light flickered fitfully through the window. He sucked in a long breath through his nose. No coppery scent of blood or putrid rot of decaying corpses. At least not there. Whoever had been killed, it hadn’t happened at the house.

He sighed and closed his eyes. “Let’s check the lighthouse, first. Then, if we need to, we’ll go through the b-n-b. No sense in disturbing them yet.”

The lighthouse was only a few hundred feet from the bed-n-breakfast, but he parked the patrol car at the bend just in case something nasty still lurked inside. Moore got out after he did, shutting the door softly behind her. Gabe drew his gun. The distinct odor of a recent death lay heavy in the air, blocking his airways and making him want to gag. He’d thought the scent led to the road, but the winds must have changed directions since the murder and confused his sense of smell. Now, however, there was no mistake. Someone was dead.

Gesturing for Moore to flank him on the left, Gabe moved right through the trees, fog curling around his ankles in an ever-thickening blanket. Forced to take care that something nasty didn’t surprise him through the fog, he made his way snail-like to the lighthouse, pausing after each step. He missed his machete. The beam seemed to be functioning well despite the blackout at the house, so the generators must still be working. That was something.

He came across the first corpse at the base of the tower. Sliced almost in half, the creature’s carapace oozed a foul-smelling black blood. Gabe knelt next to it and flipped it over, but the three eyes staring up at him were lifeless.

“There’s another over here,” Moore said.

A sound, faint but distinct, pierced the fog. He raised one finger, signaling for silence, and closed his eyes. For a moment, nothing. Just wind and the surf and the mechanical whir of the lighthouse. Then he heard it: the soft growl of an animal eating.

He ran. The fifty-six steps up the spiral staircase to the top of the lighthouse felt like spinning on a Ferris wheel going round and round, only there was no music playing and when the ride ended, someone would be dead.

The scene in the watch room, the room below the lantern room where Keepers stood their watch, looked like something out of a splatter film. Lorek, or what remained of him anyway, was spread across the room. His entrails dangled from the railing, one of his legs stood vertical across the room as though it were about to take a step, and the rest of him decorated the floor like a Jackson Pollock masterpiece.

A dog-faced monstrosity with the ears of a donkey and an extra pair of arms gnawed on what remained of Lorek’s face. It looked up from its grizzly feast and snarled.

Gabe put a bullet between its glowing red eyes.

“Gabe?”

He leaned over the railing. “All clear. I’m coming down.”

“Was anyone...” she didn’t need to finish the sentence.

“Yeah. We need to call this in and get some reinforcements out here. We can’t leave Lorek like this. Beks shouldn’t have to see him this way.”

“I’ll radio it in.” Moore hesitated before continuing. “Do we have a containment breach?”

“No, I think we’re secure. If there were more demons alive, they wouldn’t be able to resist the easy meal, and the light would draw any in the area.”

Moore’s footsteps faded away. He turned back to the scattered remains of yet another Keeper and wondered how he was going to break the news to the man’s daughter who slept comfortably and innocently a quarter mile away.

Beks wasn’t going to be happy to see him. Not even a little.

Chapter Five

The knock at the door startled Rebekah awake. Rubbing the stiffness out of her neck, she looked around and wondered who it could be. The guests were upstairs sleeping, and if Mia had come in during the night to cook, she wouldn’t have knocked. Mia had her own key and was allowed to come and go as she pleased, especially since cooking the elegant breakfasts she prepared often took several hours. Then she remembered her surprise visitor and hopped up. This must be the tow truck driver he’d called the night before.

“Coming!” she yelled, though not loud enough for those upstairs to hear, and hurried to the door with a smile. He hadn’t been a dream. Grabbing a wrap from the hat stand, she tossed it over her shoulders and opened the door. “He’s still asleep, but if you want to...” She stopped. Then she stepped back from the door. “What are you doing here, Gabe?”

“Beks,” he whispered, taking off his hat and wringing it in his hands. She knew he’d joined the Parks Services, but just hadn’t thought he’d have the nerve to knock on her door again. His dark eyes, the ones she’d spent years trying to forget, brimmed with sorrow.

Rebekah crossed her arms, pulling the wrap tighter.

From behind her, she heard the soft creaks the old house made whenever someone walked downstairs. “Is that the tow truck guy?” Dylan asked, pulling a t-shirt down over his bare chest. She took a second to enjoy the sight.

“No,” she answered, turning back to Gabe, and started to shut the door. “He was just leaving.”

Gabe stopped the door with his foot. “Beks. I’m sorry, but this is important. It’s about your father.”

She looked past him to where two patrol cars rested in the lane. Moore was back there, her arms folded across her chest as she watched. So were Officers Ramirez and Stojanik. None of them would meet her eyes.
No. Please, no
. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t do anything as the truth of their faces hammered her.

“Where is he?” she whispered, one hand going to her throat.

He shook his head. “Beks...”

“Tell me where he is.” When she tried to run past him, he grabbed her arm. Her voice rose an octave as she tried to pull free. “Gabe, if you don’t let go of me right now...”

“He’s not here, Beks.” Gabe didn’t let go of her. “The coroner took him to the morgue.”

“Fine. I’ll go there.”

“You don’t want to do that.”

Dylan stepped up next to her and pried her arm from Gabe. Warmth spread from where he touched her. “If she wants to see her father, you can’t stop her.” He turned to Rebekah. “Where’s your car? I’ll drive you there myself.”

“And who exactly are you?” Gabe asked.

“Someone who cares more about her than you do,” Dylan answered.

Gabe’s frown intensified, if that was even possible. “Well, if you care so much, then you won’t mind telling me your name, will you?”

She felt him stiffen next to her. Still, he answered the question. “Dylan Hurley. I’m new to town.”

Moving faster than anyone she’d ever seen before, Gabe grabbed Dylan, slammed him face-first against the doorframe, and cuffed his hands savagely behind his back. “Dylan Hurley, you’re wanted for questioning in connection with an attack on an officer that occurred last night. You have the...”

As he finished reading Dylan his rights, Rebekah just stood there, shocked. Why was Gabe doing this to her? Was this some kind of game? Her father was dead. Not coming back. And instead of letting her see him, Gabe arrested one of her guests. “Stop this!” she yelled, hitting Gabe’s arms and trying to pull him off. He pushed her back, hard, and she tripped over the rug. She fell, smacking her head on the floor, and spots danced in front of her eyes.

Dylan knelt and cradled her head, his cuffs scraping her ears. “Rebekah? Can you hear me?”

“Yeah,” she answered, and then felt the lump on the back of her head. “Ow.”

“Don’t move, okay. You might have a concussion.” Dylan glared at Gabe. “Are you just going to stand there like an idiot or will you call an ambulance?”

She shook her head no, but that only made the spots worse. “I’m fine. Just help me up.”

“Hey, what’s all the noise in here?” a perky voice asked from the other side of the house. “Who’s having the party?” Mia bounced into the room, her blonde ponytails streaked with pink today, and stopped. “Woa.”

“Mia, I’m fine. It was an accident. Dylan, help me up, please?”

Dylan steadied her as she stood, which wasn’t easy given the handcuffs. Somehow, everything’d gone terribly wrong. Stepping free of Dylan, she walked over to Gabe and looked up at him. “I want to see my father. If you won’t let me, then you at least have to tell me why. You owe me that much.”

“Beks...he was attacked by an animal. Probably a bear. There isn’t...” He took a deep breath and looked at the ground. “There isn’t much left.”

“Thank you for the honesty,” she said, hugging herself. “Now, get off my property.”

Gabe’s expression was stony. “He has to come with me.”

“Don’t worry, Rebekah. I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Dylan kissed her on the cheek and squeezed her hand. “I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”

Standing in the doorway, she trembled as the realization settled in: her father was dead. Tears popped from her eyes and trailed down her face as her chest constricted again. Six months ago, she’d lost her mother. Now her father was gone, too. She was an orphan. And the last words she’d said to her father had been in anger. A scream welled up inside her, building in anger and intensity and threatening to explode out of Rebekah’s small body.

“What can I do?” Mia asked softly behind her.

Rebekah wiped her eyes with the back of her hand as one of the doors opened upstairs. She swallowed the scream. Grief would have to wait. “Finish breakfast.”

Mia squeezed Rebekah’s arm. “Okay. I’m here if you need me.”

For the rest of the morning and into the afternoon, Rebekah ignored her nurses’s advice and busied herself with every chore she’d left undone for the last month: dusting the top shelves, scrubbing out all the trashcans in the house, ironing the bed sheets perfectly smooth. Lacey checked the stitches in Rebekah’s hand and changed the dressing before heading out to visit the seal caves about a mile away. The Mathewsons, however, were checking out, so she had Mia prepare them a snack for the flight back home and drove them to the airport herself. Normally, she’d just call a taxi, but she needed time to herself and Mia promised to stay at the house until she returned.

Instead of turning down the short drive that would lead to the bed-n-breakfast, she stopped the car on the side of the road not far from the Cape Creek Bridge and got out. Whenever tourists visited the area, they stuck to the shores and sandy coves with the best views of the ocean, often neglecting the isolated beauty of the many creeks and rivers nearby. Cape Creek was her favorite. The rain from the day before made the path treacherous and muddy as she negotiated her way down the embankment toward the concrete feet of the bridge. The river was up, overflowing the usually quiet banks, and the soft rush of water was comforting.

Rebekah climbed up one of the concrete footers and sat with her back to the cold metal frame, hugging her knees to her chest. She continued sitting there as the shadows lengthened, creeping across the ground like the inexorable march of time. A spider crawled up her legs on its way to the top of the bridge. A pair of squirrels chased each other through the nearby pine trees, jumping nimbly from branch to branch. Birds twittered and chirped and chatted incessantly. The water began to turn golden and orange with the light of the setting sun.

Everything around her moved. Nothing was content to stay the same—even the rocks in the creek were being bullied and prodded further downstream by the current. Why couldn’t he have stayed inside like she asked? Why couldn’t he have listened to her just that once? Rebekah picked up a stone and threw it into the creek as hard as she could.