The Keepers: Declan (2 page)

Three days later

New Orleans, USA

With a coffee clasped in cold hands, Kate made her way through the cobblestone streets of the French Quarter in New Orleans. A city of night owls meant that early morning walks were peaceful, most of the tourists still asleep. Restaurants, antique shops, art galleries, coffee shops and boutiques lined the streets. It wouldn’t be long before the tourists and locals were back for another whirl of celebrations.

It was good to be back. The last time she’d been here was three months ago when she’d met Declan for a mind-blowing night that had almost derailed her plans. For Declan, she’d been a distraction from the tortured memories of his sister’s death. Someone who’d shared his need to push away the real world and indulge in decadent pastimes.

For Kate, he’d been her target, her goal, and she’d almost lost sight of that during their brief time together. It had been so easy to lose herself and enjoy some fun. That night, Declan had wiped away the nagging worry that bore in her gut constantly, reminding her that she was marked. He’d given her a glimpse of what it felt like to have someone strong and powerful as her ally.

Only, they could never be allies. Not after she’d snuck out of his room after midnight, taking his enchanted key with her. How much he remembered of their night together was anyone’s guess, given the endless shots of whiskey.

And the herbs.

But
she
remembered.

With his boyish charm, cheeky smile, and blue eyes that frequently danced with mischief, the man had made her quiver all over.

A shiver ran down her spine which had nothing to do with the cool morning air. The image of his furious expression came to mind, sparking an inward cringe. He’d recognised her - knew she’d crossed him; stolen from him. Twice.

And something told her he wasn’t about to let this go.

He’d set chase with a vengeance. She’d eventually shrugged him off but couldn’t resist the constant urge to check over her shoulder.

Kate sipped her coffee and grimaced at the harsh taste, her stomach flipping. Ignoring the adrenaline-fuelled queasiness that was becoming her constant companion, she tossed the empty container in a nearby bin and glanced around to ensure no one was tailing her – an action that had become second nature. She crossed the street and headed to the store on the corner.

Magic and Mirrors was small and enchanting. It belonged to Hazel, an old friend of her mother’s who’d befriended Kate shortly after her death. Their grief over the loss of a woman they’d both loved gave them companionship. Hazel had become a surrogate mother, taking care of the smallest details at a time when all Kate knew was heartache and fear. In the months following the accident, Hazel had encouraged frequent visits to New Orleans. Needing space from home and its painful memories, Kate had accepted – and without her mother’s influence, their friendship had blossomed.

Her stomach rolled, as it always did with memories of her mother.

A woman whose entire life had been dominated by the fear of magic, shunning the supernatural world. She had forbidden all use of magic, only encouraging Kate’s ability to negate magic.

And only because it was a means of self-defence.

Kate paused in the doorway of the store and slowly exhaled away the memories and guilt that nipped at her heels.

The bell shrilled as the door swung open to reveal an older woman with striking black hair and long nails painted a morbid maroon. A wide smile softened her expression when she spotted Kate.

“Good gracious. You’re back!” Her words came out in a gush of air and she pulled Kate into her arms before waving her inside. “Come out of the cold.”

Hazel stepped outside, casting a suspicious glance along the street before following Kate inside.

The faint aroma of herbs filled the store. Several shelves containing roots and herbs lined the back wall. A jewellery case stood in the centre of the room, displaying silver pieces. Strewn across the floor in neat piles were tattered books that hinted at age and wisdom.

“Did you find the daggers?” Hazel asked, eyes wide with hope.

“Not all of them.”

Surprise tugged at her smile and her shoulders fell. “That’s not good. Come, I’ll make some tea and you can tell me what happened.”

Kate followed her to the small kitchen at the back of the store and held back in the doorway as Hazel assembled a tray. It was a familiar dance for them, a platform for hours of chats. “Has the store been busy?”

“Not recently, but maybe this weekend. I’m considering casting an enticement spell to draw people in. I need to clear out some stock.”

It hadn’t taken Kate long to figure out that Hazel was a witch. They’d first met at her mother’s funeral, which had been a quiet affair. Although the details of that day were sketchy, Kate remembered her kindness and had been pleased to bump into her again in New Orleans. She’d been on a buying spree there for her mother’s clothing boutique back home in Southport, North Carolina. Since then, she’d ended up spending more and more time in New Orleans.

Hazel carried the tray to the small wooden table at the window and sat in one of the mismatched chairs. “Tell me about Rapid Falls. Did you see the Keepers? I’ve heard they’re rather smitten with the Beckham witch.”

“Apparently, only the older brother, Archer.”

“Lucky girl to have a trio of male glory at her defence.”

“She’s a powerful witch, Hazel. There’s nothing lucky about that.”

Hazel’s grin faded. “Maybe. For some, a magical heritage is a blessing and for others like your mother, it’s a curse. Depends on whether you embrace it.”

“I wonder if our lives would have been different if my mother had a Keeper to watch over her?”

“Accepting a Keeper would have meant accepting the world she was born into. She was dead set against anything magical.”

An understatement. They’d spent years, isolated, steering clear of anyone with supernatural abilities. It was only Hazel who had broken through Kate’s defensive wall and their friendship had been like a breath of much-needed air.

“Witches have Keepers for a reason,” Kate muttered. “Maybe if she hadn’t been so stubborn, she’d still be alive.”

“Not all witches need Keepers. Witches like me who dabble in simple magic don’t need protection as much as the elemental witches. Their powers bring added responsibilities and danger. And it’s only rare witches like Sienna who have more than one Keeper.”

“She didn’t seem so scary in the flesh.”

“As long as you stay on her good side. She and her Keepers maintain the balance of nature and keep the existence of our kind a secret. They’re highly respected for fending off the Brogan brothers.” She motioned to the tea pot. “You were brave to try and steal the daggers.”

“I had no choice. I need their protection.”

Kate poured the tea and explained what had happened at the Bennett Estate.

“Where are the daggers?” Hazel asked.

“I hid them on the Bennett estate.”

Hazel’s eyes rounded as she choked back her tea. “You don’t have them?”

“It was too risky. Declan Bennett chased after me.”

“So you simply left them behind?”

“They’re safe for now.”

“And your mother’s Grimoire and scroll?”

Kate couldn’t bring herself to admit she’d lost the scroll she’d found in her mother’s Grimoire. Although the ancient scribbles and symbols held no meaning to her, the fact that her mother had included it with her final letter to Kate had hinted at its importance. And now she’d lost it. “Both are with the daggers. I’ll go back for them after the party.”

As she’d have to return to the Bennett estate to reclaim the third dagger, leaving everything behind in exchange for a lighter travel had seemed like a good idea.

Leaving the Grimoire had been hard. Tattered and worn with age, the cover was marked with three interlinked circles, embossed with silver beads. Her mother’s book, one she’d rarely opened. A destiny she’d shunned. She was a witch who had given birth to a daughter with the ability to negate magic.

A rare power that was hunted by both sides of the supernatural realm. Depending on who reached her first, the war between good and evil that had been in existence since time began might finally be unbalanced. Her power would be used to destroy the opposition.

Or so her mother had believed.

Because of this, she’d ingrained into Kate from an early age that they had to keep hidden, fly under the radar of anyone with supernatural abilities.

As Southport was inhabited only by ordinary humans, steering clear of them had been easy. Their life had been a quiet but happy one, but although her mother’s fear of being discovered had lessened over the years, it had never disappeared entirely. She’d been convinced they’d come for them.

And she hadn’t been wrong.

Their attempt to escape a year ago had been anticipated by their hunters, and the chase brutal. The car accident that followed had claimed her mother.

Gone, in a crash of shattering glass and screeching tyres.

And through the chaos, the pain, and devastation, Kate had seen who’d come for her.

Harper Avery.

The only thing that had saved her was her ability to nullify his magic.

Kate closed her eyes, Harper’s parting words ringing in her ears as though he’d just muttered them:
“No matter where you hide, I will find you.”

From that moment, her mother’s fears had become hers and she’d been running ever since.

But everything had changed when she’d found a letter in her mother’s Grimoire. It was hastily scribbled, as if she’d run out of time, and the book had been shoved in her backpack the night they’d tried to escape.

If you’re reading this it means I am no longer here to protect you when they come for you. And they will come, my dear Kate. You won’t be able to do this alone. Track down the three daggers, last known to be at the Bennett estate in Rapid Falls. They will offer you the protection you’ll need. By embracing your powers, you may finally be free. Be safe.

The last year had been a blur, flitting between overwhelming bouts of grief, fear, rage and hatred.

But no more.

Revenge didn’t scratch the surface of what she wanted.

The bell rattled as the front door burst open, spearing the tortured memories. In a whirl of subtle perfume and sleek blonde hair, a woman entered the store. Her back was to them but she was dressed in black, a matching mask dangling from one hand.

Hazel placed her hand on Kate’s shoulder. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

No
. “I’m not planning an ambush, Hazel.” Harper was in town and throwing a masked party at his club. It was an opportunity she couldn’t resist.

“I shouldn’t have told you he was here.”

Kate gave Hazel’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll be fine. I’m just an observer tonight.”

And what better way to do that than in disguise?

Hazel sighed and stood. “Then it’s best you meet Jenna.”

“You brought
Jenna
?” Kate inhaled, eyeing the tall young woman with more scrutiny. She’d been expecting some cocktail waitress from Harper’s club, not one of his kickass warriors. They’d never met before but Kate had seen Jenna around Harper enough times to know where her loyalties lay. And Jenna was no easy mark. “How did you –?”

“An enticement spell.” With her back to Jenna, Hazel poured tea into a fresh mug, reached into her pocket for a small bag of herbs, and stirred in a pinch.

“How on earth am I supposed to imitate her?”

“You’ll be fine, Kate.”

“She’s one of Harper’s warriors! Are you crazy?”

“Don’t worry,” Hazel whispered back when she saw Kate’s dismayed expression. She stood, tea cup in hand. “She’ll get a good night’s sleep and won’t remember a thing. No harm will come to her. Or us. And you’ll be fine, just keep in the background.”

“Which is why a waitress would’ve been easier!”

“Ssh.” Hazel swatted her away. Turning to welcome their guest, Hazel pasted on her brightest smile. “Ah, you’re just in time for tea.”

When Kate finally left several hours later, she was dressed in Jenna’s clothes, a mask in her pocket. The clingy material hugged her body and she tightened the belt around the jacket, snuggling into its warmth.

It smelt of Jenna’s perfume, sparking a short-lived twinge of guilt.

The sun had set and the streets were busier, everyone preparing for the craziness of New Orleans’s entertainment. And it would only get crazier from here.

It wasn’t until she’d walked past the iron gates of Jackson Square that she felt the familiar shiver down her spine. She glanced around casually, once again riddled with the sense that someone was following her, and headed for a group of tourists gathered around a lone saxophone player. His music filled the air, pleasant and enticing, but did little to lessen the punch of fear that trickled through her.

She slipped into the crowd, using it as a shield, and scanned her surroundings. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary and once again, she wondered if her imagination was at an all-time crazy. Years of taking her cue from her mother had resulted in the constant flickering of her senses.

She’d hoped to have had all the daggers before tonight’s party. How they were meant to protect her, she wasn’t sure, but it would have made her feel a lot better about what she was about to do.

First thing in the morning, she’d leave town and head for Rapid Falls. It might be suicide but she needed the daggers. She still had Declan’s key to gain entry into the house. Only this time, she’d be smarter.

Facing her demons and shedding the secrecy from her life all started with those damn daggers.

Kate was on the move again.

Declan watched as she emerged from the magical shop where she’d spent the day and did a double take at her revamped appearance.

What the hell?

With her mountain of dark curls hidden beneath a sleek blonde wig, wide eyes, and flawless skin, she looked a far cry from the cat burglar in his living room. She’d changed into pants and a jacket, the outfit hugging her figure like a second skin, accentuating hips and curves in all the right places. The V-neckline of the jacket plunged between full, ripe breasts that had been a perfect fit in his palms. His abdomen clenched at the memory.

Dammit.

She headed past Jackson Square toward Bourbon Street, New Orleans’s most popular tourist attraction, that stretched for miles. Every night, the road was closed to traffic, giving the tourists and locals the freedom to wander the street and take in Bourbon’s whirl of extravagance. Chatter and laughter, along with the music from the clubs and bars, filled the air with a constant hum of noise.

Declan followed, easily hidden amongst the crowd. Pulling on her mask, Kate stopped outside a busy club, the entrance jammed with people, and disappeared inside.

A club? What was the little vixen up to now?

And what was with the wig?

He scanned the rowdy crowd, clogged with drunks, dancers, street musicians and tourists. Those wanting a more private party had taken to the balconies that overlooked the street. It was a colourful, theatrical mix of people. Wild, untamed. He loved it.

New Orleans had been the perfect escape when he’d left Rapid Falls two years ago, drowning his guilt after losing his sister, Sarah, to the Brogan brothers. Sienna had cast a spell to desiccate Mason forever. Believing Warrick to be redeemable, they’d only bound his powers.

But they’d been wrong.

In retaliation, he’d killed Sarah and bolted.

Lost to her demons, Sienna had fled town next, freeing Declan from his Keeper duties. Leaving his brothers had been easy. Living with the guilt had been destructive.

Up until the night of Sarah’s death, he’d heard guilt was a bitch but had never known it. And since then, the bitch hadn’t left him alone.

But tonight, he wasn’t here to indulge in what New Orleans had to offer – or the memories it muffled. Several shots of whiskey had barely softened the frustration that chewed at his gut. He’d been played. Lied to. Stolen from.

And had his ass kicked by a woman.

When they'd met three months ago, Kate was everything he needed. Beautiful smile, an infectious laugh, and womanly curves that offered the perfect diversion from his destructive road. Alcohol, women, self-loathing, grief. God, he’d almost drowned himself in them all.

But Kate had been a wake-up call. He’d fallen straight into her trap. The whiskey, the easy flow of conversation, endless laughter and the hottest sex he’d ever had.

Even numb from the whiskey, he remembered her. Clearly. Up until the point she’d climbed out of his bed to pour them a drink. From then on, everything was a blank.

He’d woken up the following morning with a headache that smacked of more than a hangover; naked and minus his key. And damn, he’d liked that key. Spelled to open any door, it was a nifty gadget.

A call from Archer had saved Kate’s hide and kept him from tracking her.

Archer had finally found Sienna – as had Warrick Brogan, seeking vengeance and Mason’s freedom. That alone had been enough for Declan to cut short his two-year sorrow party to return home and defend his witch.

A calling. His duty. His destiny.

And they’d kicked ass.
Sienna
had kicked ass and made him so proud. Mason was still entombed and Warrick had met his creepy-assed makers.

A victory marred by another death. Sweet, beautiful, kind Rose – Sienna’s grandmother – who sacrificed herself to save her granddaughter. Without that selfless act, they’d have lost Sienna that night. They’d all taken Rose’s death hard.

Declan inhaled and rerouted his thoughts to Kate – the perfect distraction from the memories. Once he confronted her, he was going to wring her pretty neck himself.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Keeping a watchful eye on the entrance to the club, Declan headed for the alleyway that offered a quieter place to talk.

“Hello, brother,” he said, answering the call.

“Did you find the girl?”

Trust Archer to get straight to business. “Yes.”

“You okay?”

“Tickled pink.”

“Where are you?”

“New Orleans.”

“Declan, now’s not the time to be drinking whiskey and chasing women.”

Declan rolled his eyes at his brother’s irritated tone. “Whiskey’s a given, brother, and the only woman I’m chasing is the one who stole our daggers.”

“So why New Orleans?”

“She came here. I just followed.”

Following Kate had been easy. She’d moved quickly and silently but her inexperience showed.
Thief.
At first, Declan had charged full steam ahead but the more he followed, anger turned into intrigue. He’d slipped into stealth mode.

She was scared.

The thought shouldn’t alter what he thought of her and he refused to acknowledge that it might. Hell no. She’d stolen from them, dropped a scroll that hinted at a whole lot of crap Declan didn’t feel like dealing with, and run.

But he needed to know why she’d wanted the daggers so badly. He also wanted to know why she’d hidden her Keeper abilities when they’d first met. Odd that he hadn’t sensed them in her. As for the questions sparked by the scroll, those needed more than a simple explanation.

“Do you know who she is?” Archer asked.

Oh, yeah.
“I’m working on it.”

Until he knew exactly what she was after, why she’d pursued him for his key and stolen the daggers, his involvement with Kate was for his knowledge only.

“So where is she?”

“About to attend a masked party.”

“A burglary and a party all in one week? She gets around. Does she know you’ve followed her?”

“She’s crafty, seems to sense that someone is. And I’m not the only one.” Declan thought of the jittery woman and the familiar faces he’d spotted since he’d set chase. They’d been discreet, searching her out, following her from a distance. They hadn’t harmed her yet but had sparked Declan’s curiosity. If someone else was after her, he wanted to know why.

“Any idea who they are or what they want with her?”

“No, but I doubt they have dinner and a movie in mind.”

“Well find her, Declan.”

Declan ignored his brother’s agitation. “Trust me, brother, she’s in my sights.” He glanced at the club, the entrance occupied with streams of people coming and going. Some wore masks, others outrageous costumes. Kate would blend in perfectly.

“We need those daggers so get your ass out of the bourbon.”

“My ass is where it needs to be. How’s Sienna?”

“Better. Missing Rose but the scroll has taken her mind off it.”

“The legend of that scroll is a bedtime story, Archer. That’s all it is.”

It had to be. A small triangle set within a larger triangle, each point marked with a symbol. Set within the smallest triangle was a blackness that hinted at an ancient legend. According to Sienna, the legend stipulated that a blackness would one day overtake their world. The symbols on the scroll were the keys to defeating it.

The snag was that none of them knew how to decode it.

“Maybe, but Sienna’s scouring Rose’s Grimoires anyway.”

“If you find anything, let me know.”

“I will.”

A commotion at the entrance of the club caught Declan’s attention. A man arrived with an entourage. He wore a white suit, a hat, and a cocky grin. His grand entrance and loud welcome signalled popularity.

The man turned around, his face visible, and everything inside Declan clenched in surprise, followed by a flash of fury.

Shit.

“Declan?” Archer prompted.

Declan blinked, realising he’d said that aloud. “Yeah, I’m here,” he replied, returning the phone to his ear.

“What’s wrong?”

“Harper Avery,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’ve followed the woman into a club and he’s just arrived.”

“Harper? What’s he doing there?”

Declan caught the immediate hatred that lined his brother’s voice. Harper supported the Brogan brothers – had been Warrick’s right hand man for years. He’d kidnapped Sienna, then Rose. He’d drugged them and vanished into thin air after Warrick’s death.

“And he’s grinning like he’s won the lottery.”

“Asshole. We should have killed him when we had the chance,” Archer said, his voice a low growl.

“Yeah, brother. Hindsight crap won’t change the fact that this woman just stepped into the lion’s den.”

“What business would she have with Harper?”

“No idea, but I intend to find out. “

“Call me when you do.”

“I will.”

“And Declan?” Archer added, his tone losing the sharp edge. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“If that’s your way of saying ‘be careful’, then I love you too, brother,” Declan quipped, unable to keep the sarcasm at bay. He blew Archer an exaggerated kiss, hung up the phone, and headed straight for the club.

It took all of five minutes and a flash of cash to secure himself a hat from a teenage boy with a love of Zorro. Not his choice of accessory but better than a feathery mask.

Tugging on his hat he went inside and took a seat by the bar, scoured the room for signs of Kate. A woman with a wide smile, wearing a leather outfit, slid into the available space between his legs.

“You look lonely, handsome,” she said, hooking a finger into the hem of his T-shirt.

“I’m not.”

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“It’s not a one drink night.”

She grinned, red lipstick stretching across a pale face. “Oh, you sound like my kind of guy.”

Declan twisted around and motioned to the barman for a round of drinks. When they arrived within seconds, the youngster was quick to earn himself a hefty tip.

He rose, disentangling himself from the curvy blonde and holding out a glass. She grinned, accepting the offering. She was pretty, but far from his agenda tonight.

“You’re leaving?”

He dipped his head to hers. “Trust me, honey, it’s for your own good.”

He swiped his drink off the counter and walked away, unable to shrug off the unease that conflicted with the anticipation of facing Kate. Harper was involved and Declan wanted answers – but for now, the pleasure of confronting her overruled that.

The image of a deer in the headlights came to mind.

He couldn’t wait.