The Keeper's Vow (42 page)

Katie jogged down the street and ran across
the road. She couldn’t see in the window, it was blacked out. The
actual building itself was next to a dark alley where she heard
quick and fast grunts.

She blushed as a sharp gasp escaped from
someone.

What happened if she was wrong. What
happened if the place she was walking into was a whore house. Or
worse, what if the people here took her for someone who would walk
down a dark alley and do something similar.

She had come this far. What did she expect?
She’d spent weeks seeing what he saw, trying to block out his
violence. Just because he was quiet now didn’t mean he was sitting
in a park somewhere staring up at the stars. She’d made up her mind
when she’d gotten out of the elevator. She was going to find him no
matter what. She was going to help him put the pieces of his life
back together. Even if he hated her.

Katie opened the door. Laughter erupted from
inside. A few heads turned to look at her but turned back to the
bar after sizing her up. It was dim. Music played in the
background, but nothing loud. Conversations bounced back and forth
and more laughter ensued.

“See, Mer. This is what happens when you let
one blood licker in. The others start thinking it’s okay.”

Katie swallowed and stood her ground.
Tristan had been here before. The funny looking guy with the
handlebar mustache must have been talking about Tristan.

“Get off it, Clyde.” Mercedes arose from the
underneath the bar and sat a crate of beers down. Her long braids
swayed. She locked eyes with Katie. Katie’s chest eased a little;
she was in the right place. “Come sit. Have a drink.”

“Mer!” Clyde The Handlebar gasped.

“I said get off it. My bar my rules. She
doesn’t bite.”

“Not if I bite her first.”

Katie tried to act nonchalant, but her hands
shook and she sat on the only open bar stool—next to Clyde.

“What’s your name?” Clyde asked as if he
hadn’t just threatened her. Katie took in a deep breath. Time to
grow up. Be hard. Act like Tristan.

“I’ll put it on your tombstone,” she held
eye contact with Clyde. If he stood up, she’d lose it and pee on
herself. She was stupid. Tristan wouldn’t have said that. No one
would have said anything to Tristan to begin with.

Silence.

Clyde laughed. “Why would you put
your
name on
my
tombstone? You can stay, Spitfire.
You’re much cuter than the other one anyway.” He took took a swig
of his beer.

Mercedes smiled. “Don’t pay attention to
Clyde. What’s the saying? ‘He’s all bark’.” She pulled down a glass
and then stopped. “What’s your poison?”Mercedes bounced her perfect
eyebrows up and down. What was this, a saloon in the
seventeen-hundreds?

Katie shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m
fine.”

“Nobodies ever fine.” Mercedes put the glass
back and leaned over the bar. “You’re here for him aren’t you?”

Katie didn’t need to say anything. There was
no other reason she’d show up at this place. Her stomach turned
over and over she was so close.

“I haven’t seen him since the day before
yesterday.” Mercedes arched one of her perfect eyebrows. “He does
that sometimes though. He comes and then disappears.”

“And he tears the place up.”

“Clyde,” Mercedes said, in warning.

“It’s bad for business, Mer.”

“Me putting my fist through your face is bad
for your health. Don’t think I won’t do it. Again.”

Clyde grumbled and picked up his beer.

“Clyde’s not a fan of our friend.”

Clyde opened his mouth but closed it when
Mercedes cut him a look.

Katie looked down at the bar. He wasn’t
here. But she was led here. Maybe he was close. Maybe he was
coming. Her heart sped up a little. “What time does he usually
come?” she said.

“Around this time. To be honest, I thought
you were him. I smelled you out there. Actually everyone did, they
were placing bets on how many drinks it would take before he went
off.” Mercedes sucked in her breath.

Katie looked at the door instinctually. The
door didn’t budge.

“Your face is priceless. You look more
scared than Clyde did when you opened the door.”

Katie stuttered. She was afraid. What would
she say to him. What would he say to her. This was what kept her
from pressing the button in the elevator.

“He talks about you a lot.” Mercedes watched
the door with her. “It’s not always pleasant, but nonetheless, he’s
usually going off about you.”

Katie wanted to know more. What did he say
when he was sober and closing his mind to her?

“He rants and raves, but when he passes out
and wakes up screaming, talking about you is the only thing that
calms him down.”

Katie shook her head. Half the things he
woke up screaming about had to do with her. She couldn’t believe
that. Mercedes must have seen the disbelief on her face.

“Then tell me why I know you hate tomatoes,
or that you used to have a gerbil, but you dad ran it over? Or that
you could eat your weight in rainbow sherbet ice cream, your left
hook is killer, you still watch Saturday morning cartoons, and you
collect ratty old books. Not to mention your room looks something
like a botched crayon abortion—his words not mine.”

Katie held back the smile.

“Also, you have a bit of a jealous streak?”
Mercedes smiled wide. “You know, I don’t date shadows. I like my
men hairy.”

Katie blushed. He
told
her about
that? “Tristan said you were helping him,” Katie said, hoping
Mercedes would stop grinning.

“I was.”

“Did he find what he was looking for?” Katie
couldn’t say it. The man who murdered his family and her mother. It
was unreal to her, like a movie. She’d caught glimpses of the story
Tristan told her, but he never told her how he saw the bodies of
this parents—that his father was missing his head and that the last
memory of his mother was her covered in blood.

“He did.” Mercedes wiped down the bar.

Another laugh rumbled from in the corner as
a man fell off his seat.

“How far are you willing to go for Tristan.
What are your limits?” Mercedes said. How was Katie supposed to
answer a questions like it? “When he walks through that door, he
might not be the same Tristan you last saw. He’s turning into
someone who likes the sight of blood. I’ve seen guys go off the
deep like that. Bringing them back isn’t easy. And if I’m right,
when shadows get blood lust, they don’t come back. Ever.”

Katie nodded. She knew what Mercedes
meant—but that didn’t stop her from flinching as the door opened.
It wasn’t him.

“I—I’d—” The rest of her words caught in her
throat. She was falling. She hit the floor and screamed. Pain
seared across her body and she shook from head to toe.

“Katie?” Mercedes jumped over the bar and
kneeled next to her. She touched her but snatched her hand back.
Flames coursed through Katie’s body, and everything went black. The
pain throbbed but the bar came into view.

“Katie?” Mercedes was touching her now.
“What the hell just happened? Are you epileptic? Should we take you
somewhere? Don’t just stare at me—Talk to me. You’re freaking
everyone out.”

Katie looked around, panting as beads of
sweat formed on her brow. The bar was in complete silence, someone
had even cut the music. Katie stared them all in the faces as if
they were the ones who’d done it. They were the ones who’d caused
the pain.

“Tristan. Something’s wrong.”

Mercedes nodded for Clyde to come over. He
offered to help Katie up but she waved him off. She needed to get
out of the door. The feeling of him, it was moving away from her.
This wasn’t like anything she’d felt before. Something was wrong.
Katie’s own body felt wrong. Breathing was painful, like something
was seeping through her veins. A hand planted firm on her
shoulder.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?”
Mercedes said. Katie turned and looked around the bar again. They
were all watching her. “Mind your own business,” Mercedes snapped.
The music started and conversations picked up again, but she knew
they were all still watching.

“I don’t know. I just know something’s
wrong—” Katie sucked in her breath and held on to the bar.

“
Quit fighting. He wants you alive. Don’t
act like you haven’t been following us around for the last week.
This is what you want isn’t it.”

Another surge of pain shot up through her
bones. She gripped the bar and steadied her breathing. He’d been
taken by someone. “Who’s he been following?”

Mercedes looked alarmed. “How’d you
know?”

“Just tell me. He’s been taken by someone.
They knew he was following them.” Katie gripped her side.

Mercedes cursed. “Eshmael. I knew it was too
easy. I told him it was too easy.”

Eshmael.

The name echoed through her mind and gripped
her insides. Larry’s brother.

Katie ripped into her pockets for her cell
phone. “Lucy? Lucy, listen. Tristan’s in trouble—I can find him,
but you have to come quick. I don’t know how long we have.”

“Katie, slow down. Where are you?”

“Gray City.”

“Katie—you know you aren’t supposed to be
there—”

“He’s in trouble. You just have to trust
me.”

“Tristan can handle himself. You stay
put.”

She didn’t understand. This wasn’t a stupid
bar fight. “Lucy, he’s in serious trouble. He’s hurt. I don’t—”

“Don’t move, Katie. I’m going to make a few
phone calls and get some people together and then I’ll find him,
Okay? If the situation is as bad as you say, you need to go home
right now.”

Katie hung up the phone. Lucinda didn’t get
it. Katie’s blood was on fire. They’d done something to him. He
didn’t have time for her to make phone calls. She needed to talk to
someone who understood how urgent this was.

She searched through her phone for Larry’s
number. It was still the only number without a name in her call
history list. She never deleted it or saved it. Mercedes was
shouting orders around the bar as the phone rang. Katie didn’t even
know if this was a number to the ice cream shop, his cell, or his
club.

He answered.

“Larry, Eshmael has Tristan and he going to
do something to him. They’ve already done something to him. I can
find him. I can feel where they’re taking him.”

“Katie, I know. Where are you?”

“I’m in Gray City at a bar. He’s still close
by. Maybe ten minutes away from me. I don’t know but I
can
find him.”

“I know Eshmael has him. I have informants
that work for him. I’m on my way to the location their taking him.
Everything will be fine. I’ll get him back—What bar are you
at?”

“It’s on 8
^th
street. Why?”

Larry cursed. “Stay where you are.”

Everyone wanted her to stay. They didn’t
feel the blood he was losing. Her phone beeped. It was her dad.
Lucinda must have called him.

“Katie?” Larry’s voice called. “Don’t go
anywhere. Eshmael is dangerous. He wouldn’t hesitate to kill you.
Or anyone else who was in his way.”

Katie pulled the phone away from her ear. In
Eshmael’s way of doing
what
?

Her mother, Tristan’s Father they were all
people Larry cared about.

He didn’t save them.

She ended the call.

“Clyde. Watch the bar. You six are on
standby. Follow behind us but not close, we don’t want anyone
knowing the pack is moving. We need to attack in small numbers.
They won’t be expecting us, so let’s keep it quiet.” Mercedes
pointed at two guys already waiting for orders. “You’re not going
to like where we’re going.”

“Never do, but I like watching your ass as
we go there.” A tall guy smiled at Mercedes.

Mercedes didn’t react to the comment, she
was staring at Katie. “Looks like you didn’t have any luck,” she
pointed at Katie’s phone. “If it’s Eshmael who’s got him, we’re
going to have a hell of a time getting him back, but I need someone
to lead me there. How far are you willing to go?”

Katie’s heart pounded. She was scared out of
her mind. “As far as it takes.”

“That’s the right answer. Let’s go.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Katie’s
adrenaline pumped as she gave Mercedes directions.

Mercedes never let up off the gas peddle. It
was just the two of them in the car, but the two guys behind her
were right on their tail.

“You’re taking us to Eshmael’s house. I know
where it is. Might take us about twenty minutes to get there.”

Katie sat back gripping the door handle. He
was loosing blood. Slowly. But since she left the bar, they’d done
something to his wrist. Her’s burned.

“I’m not going to pretend that this isn’t
weird,” Mercedes said, “You’re like psychic or something.” Mercedes
took a hard left. Cars swerved to miss them.