The Keep: The Watchers (27 page)

“Number fourteen,” I said. “That’s the Moonlight Sonata.” Some fundamental tension, a knot that’d been clenched deep in my chest, unspooled. Even the throbbing along my belly subsided. I let my head sink back and sighed a blissful sigh. I loved lots of bands and musicians—Foo Fighters, Cat Power, Nick Cave—but before them all there’d been Beethoven, and I loved him maybe most of all. “How’d you know?”

“How’d I know what?” Ronan asked. I opened my eyes to peer at him, and his questioning gaze was waiting for me. “How did I know that the girl who’d risked her life just so she could smuggle her iPod onto this island might like to listen to a spot of music?”

His humor lightened the mood, yet somehow that only made the moment more serious. More meaningful.

I didn’t take my eyes from him as I asked, “Does this mean I’m to add intuition to the list of your many gifts and abilities?” I quirked an affectionate smile, feeling it in that newly unwound place in my chest.

He laughed then, and the free sound of it was a warm rush along my skin. “Aye, I’m a regular superhero.”

The tape quality was miserable, all raspy and fuzzy, but even so, I leaned back again, letting the music wash over me. “I love Beethoven.” I’d shut my eyes to savor it, but then shot them open again. “Wait. Isn’t this illegal?”

His probing look added some other layer of meaning to my question.

I felt myself blush as I added, “The tape, I mean. Is it allowed?”

“Are you going to tell on me?” He took his eyes from the road to give me a slow smile.

Another smile? Another light comment? The guy was slaying me. We’d never had this. Never done this before. What did it mean, this easy banter with Ronan? Was he
flirting
?

“We’ll see,” I replied, attempting to sound just as flirtatious. “Maybe if you’re good, I won’t tell.” I blushed furiously—that hadn’t come out right. “I mean, if you’re good with me in the water. For our class,” I quickly added. “As a teacher.” My cheeks were really flaming now, and I turned to watch out the window, letting the leather headrest cool my skin.

Crap
…I couldn’t flirt if I tried.

But the little exchange had clearly made him uncomfortable, too, because when he spoke again, it was stilted. “Recordings like this aren’t illegal,” he informed me, answering my question with a formality that, at that moment, I appreciated. “For instructors, at least. We’re allowed to listen to music. As long as it’s classical.”

“No Led Zeppelin?”

“I said classical, not classic.” The look he shot me—once more relaxed around the eyes—said he was beginning to loosen up again. “Definitely no Led Zeppelin. I imagine even Debussy is too gauche for the undead.”

It was my turn to laugh. “Ronan,” I exclaimed. “Was that
another
joke?”

“Mm.” He nodded, looking pleased with himself. “Terribly clever of me.”

I laughed again, and like that, the tension was gone. It was a place I never thought we’d go—one of easy comfort, where we joked like friends. It made me feel safe enough to ask something that’d been nagging me.

“So…can I ask you a question?”

He smirked. “I’d be shocked if you didn’t.”

“The vampires on this island…” I took a steadying breath. Formulating the words in my mind, I realized how ridiculous it was.

“The vampires?” he prompted.

“They don’t, you know”—another breath, slower this time, exhaled through the teeth—“they’re not the kind who turn into bats, are they?”

A raucous laugh exploded from him, reverberating through the car. “Bats? Now you’re the one to joke.”

I crossed my arms at my chest. “You don’t have to laugh at me.”

“Aye.” He dabbed tears from his eyes. “I really do.” One last
hee
escaped him—was that a guy giggle?—and he asked, “What on earth made you ask that?”

“I saw a bat is all,” I mumbled.

“You what?”

“Bat,” I snapped. “I saw a bat.”

“You keep company with ancient vampires, and yet you’re afraid of a wee winged rat?” He chuckled one last time.

“I didn’t say I was afraid.” I squirmed low in my seat, embarrassed.

We were quiet after that, and I suspected it was the one brief mention of ancient vampires that’d made him serious again.

Was he thinking about Carden? And what did it mean that, for a moment, I’d forgotten about him?

The cove where he stored the boat came into view, and Ronan swerved off the road, bumping along the rocks and pulling the truck to a stop.

He didn’t open the door, though. Instead, Ronan turned in
his seat to face me, and dread shot through me to see how his expression had gone from serious to totally grim. “Why are we here?” he asked skeptically. “And don’t lie to me, Annelise. I know you’d rather set your hair on fire again than—what was it?—do deep-water breath-holding free-dive prep exercises?”

I gave him an overly innocent grin. “I’ve been practicing.”

He stared at me, silently challenging me to speak the truth.

It was a look I was powerless against. “Fine,” I said. “I’m looking for something.”

He raised his brows, waiting.

“Fine,”
I repeated, emphasizing the word. “I’m looking for a sea gate. I heard there was some sort of door carved into the cliffs.” The coastline was jagged, an uneven ribbon of small coves and inlets, and I pointed north, back toward campus, to the cliffside jutting between Crispin’s Cove and the sandier beaches. “Back that way.”

He gave me a startled look. “By the keep?”

“Is that where the keep is?” I asked innocently.

“Annelise,” he said in a tone stern with warning.

“C’mon, Ronan. I just want to see it. I heard the vampires have things delivered to them during that celebration you were talking about, that
Up Helly Aa
thing.”

“I made a mistake telling you about that.” He pinned me with his eyes. “So what does that have to do with this gate?”

“Apparently, boats pull up at high tide to deliver things.”

“You’ve been busy.” He leaned back, looking tired all of a sudden.

“Am I right?”

“You must forget about this whole business.”

“So I
am
right.”

“Aye,” he admitted. “You’re right. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Boats come delivering things. Or people.” He’d leaned against the headrest, but he slowly turned his head back to me. “Please have a care.”

“I will. I just want to see the door. That’s all. I promise.” I crossed my heart. “Seriously, I’ll be safer if you show it to me. I almost broke my neck this morning trying to hike down to it.”

His knuckles went white, gripping the steering wheel. “You climbed the cliffs beneath the vampires’ castle?”

“I said
hike
. It was more of a hike.”

“I see.” His eyes narrowed. “Fine,” he said, mimicking our earlier exchange. “I’ll show you the sea gate. But in return, you’re going to have your swim lesson, too.”

“What? No way.”

“Yes way.” He got out, and I followed him to the back of the truck.

“It’s going to be dark soon,” I protested.

“All the better for this extensive training you’ve been telling me about.” He opened the back hatch and pulled out my bag. “If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, then I’ll give swim lessons till you believe you’ll die from them if that’s what I feel will keep you safe.”

I peered closely at him, wondering if I’d misunderstood. “Does that mean you’re not going to stop me from investigating the whole sea gate thing?”

“If I asked you to stop, would you?”

I shrugged. “Guess not.”

He tossed me my gear. “Then get in your wetsuit.”

W
e walked up the beach to the boat. It was an old wooden dory, stored upside down, its oars nestled in its belly. Like the Range Rover, all Tracers had access to it, but as the resident surfer and sea fanatic, Ronan was the only one I’d ever seen use it.

He’d grabbed rags from the back of the truck, and once we cast off from the shore, I watched, somewhat baffled, as he wrapped them around the paddles. “What’s that for?” I smirked. “To keep them from getting chilly?”

The look he shot me told me this was no joking matter. “It muffles the sound of the oars. Sound carries on the wind. You want a closer look at the vampires, but we don’t want them to get a closer look at us.”

It struck me then, how great the risk was that he was taking for me.

We both had much to think on in silence. It took an eternity to row out, his expression growing more tense with every pull.

“Do you want me to take a turn?” I whispered, showing off my flexed arm, trying for a little good humor. “I’ve been working out.” Though, secretly, I was pleased he was doing all the work—I doubted rowing was good for abdominal injuries.

He glared silently as he skimmed the scarred wood in the water, pulling the boat to a stop.

“I guess that means no,” I muttered. Surreptitiously cradling my belly in my arms, I turned to look back to shore. Ever careful, Ronan had made certain to row out farther than we usually did. Like, really far. How would I ever detect the gate from here? Unease made my voice sharp. “We’re pretty far away.”

“I dare not go closer,” he said grimly, and I didn’t have to look at him to detect the clench of his jaw. “You endanger us both with this foolish endeavor.”

What to say to that? He was right, of course. Responses like
Thanks
or
I know
didn’t quite cover it, so I only nodded. I knew exactly how much he was risking for me.

I tried not to wonder why.

The keep loomed far in the distance, and yet I shivered as though its shadow fell directly over me, its evil and darkness hungry to subsume me. A chill crept along my flesh, and I chafed my arms, telling myself I was being silly. That the black maws in its facade were merely castle windows and not watchful eyes peering at me, detecting my treacherous heart.

My hands ached—I’d been gripping the boat’s edge harder than I realized—and I gave them a sharp shake. “Where are you, little gate?” I’d said it lightly, just enough to prove to myself that I wasn’t afraid. That I didn’t secretly fear I was making a terrible, terrible mistake. I shaded my eyes, peering hard. “Now if only I could figure out where the cliff ends and the castle begins.”

Something hard nudged my back. “Calm yourself,” Ronan said, and the gentleness in his voice surprised me. My tone hadn’t provoked him. Rather, he’d discerned my anxiety, knowing the more snarky my commentary, the more stressed I really was. He was one of the few who understood that about me.

Him…and Carden.

I bit my cheek till I tasted blood.
Forget Carden.

The only vampires in my life were the ones I would take down. And it began here and now.

A nudge again, harder this time. I turned, a sassy remark on the tip of my tongue, when I saw he was just handing me a pair of binoculars. Our eyes met and held. His were a studied blank, but the shrug he gave me said all I needed to know. He was looking out for me.

I quirked a half smile, but it made me feel too vulnerable, so I quickly averted my gaze to the binoculars instead. They were compact enough to fit in his pocket. “Cool,” I said tightly. “Thanks.”

It took me a moment to sight through the tiny lenses. Blurs of gray jostled in narrow frames of black; then, in a sudden explosion of clarity, breaking waves and weed-tangled rocks zoomed into view. It took me a moment to make sense of what I was seeing. I tracked upward, finding the keep as a reference point, and then slowly brought the binoculars back down, systematically tracing the cliffside.

Just as I began to doubt I’d even know a sea gate if I saw one, it came into view—a large hole covered by what looked like a thick iron grate. I squinted. A gate—
the
gate. And it wasn’t nearly as poetic as it sounded, either. If anything, it put me in mind of
sewage, of rank tunnels hiding beneath highway overpasses, spilling into concrete runnels like urban riverbeds.

Deep black, this wasn’t just a flaw in the rock face; it had to be an entryway. A tunnel. And it was much lower down the cliff than I’d guessed—the tide wouldn’t need to rise so very high in order to access it by boat. Concealed beneath a wall of shrubbery, it would’ve taken me ages to find by climbing alone. So close to sea level, waves licked mere feet below. Did the tunnel ever fill with water? It was something to consider.

“I assume you’ve found what you’re looking for?” Ronan sounded tense—more tense than usual. Did he not like being this close to vampire central, or was it my desire to get so close that worried him?

I offered him the binoculars, trying to bring the mood back to normal. “Do you want to look?”

But he’d begun rowing away already. “We’re done here.”

Vampires forgotten for the moment, I plucked at the neck of my wetsuit. “I don’t have to swim?” I practically shivered with relief.

“Oh, you’ll swim,” he said with a wicked glint that told me he’d make me pay for this little errand.

Damn.
He couldn’t mean I was going to swim…from
here
. Right?

A small swell smacked the rear of the boat, tossing us forward. I gripped the hard bench to hold on, and…
ow.
I felt the tiniest tear in my tenuously healing wound. If Ronan were bent on punishing me, he was doing a fine job.