Labyrinth: The Keeper Chronicles, a prequel (4 page)

Rebekah sat back in the couch and looked around. Everyone was staring at her, the entire floor of the dormitory having emptied into the hallway and filled the common area with their talking and pointing and whispering. Everyone had a phone in hand, taking pictures or texting or calling someone. One of them could be Sarah's killer.

Looking for me? You won't recognize me even if you see me. She didn't either. Girls like you never see girls like me.

But don't worry. I'll be seeing you.

Very soon.

lol.

With a gasp, she threw the phone to the other side of the couch and backed as far away as she could.

“Rebekah?” Jason set the basket down. “Rebekah, what's wrong?”

She pointed to the phone.

He grabbed her phone and read through the messages. “We're going home right now. Come on, stand up.”

Orders. She looked up at him. Growing up with a Parks Services father, she'd grown accustomed to following orders. She stood and took the hand he held out for her. In his free hand, he grabbed the basket with her clothes, books, and laptop and started down the hallway toward the stairs. Concentrating on putting one step in front of the other, she was able to make it down the three flights of stairs without falling.

Detective Nelson was coming in just as Jason opened the door. “Rebekah. I…I thought you were waiting upstairs?”

Hand shaking, she held out her phone to him. “I'm going home.”

The detective skimmed the message and looked at Jason. “Okay, I want to send a patrol car out to sit by your place tonight. Most likely it's nothing, but we don't want to take any chances with three people already dead. Leave your address with the officer behind me.” He handed her phone back and turned to one of his officers. “Call her phone company and see if you can trace these texts.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you have any suspects yet?” Jason asked, arms crossed.

“I'm sorry, but I can't disclose that information.” He pulled out his phone and flipped through a couple of screens. “Miss Lorek, do you recognize any of these boys?”

She looked at both pictures and shook her head. “No.”

“You're sure?”

“She said no didn't she?” Jason asked, his voice rising in her defense.

Rebekah rubbed his arm and he quieted down. “Sarah didn't bring boys back to our room. I told you that earlier. For all I know, she never saw a guy more than once.”

Detective Nolan's eyes narrowed as he studied Jason, but he finally nodded and gestured for them to go past. “Thank you, Miss Lorek. I'll be in touch if there's anything else.”

Rebekah slept fitfully that night.

Despite her earlier protests that she would sleep on the couch, in the end being alone felt like the greater evil and slept with Jason in his room though neither of them were naked. Being his little spoon, feeling his arms warm and strong around her midsection, should have made her feel safe, but the words of the text message kept running through her mind.

Someone was coming to get her.

Someone wanted to do to her what she'd done to Sarah.

Every half hour, she'd push gently out of his embrace, cross over to the window, and pull aside the curtains to make sure the police car was still watching the apartment. She'd stand there for a few minutes, scanning the darkness for danger, before crawling back into bed.

Sleep, wake, repeat.

By the time his alarm went off in the morning, she'd already showered and made pancakes and finished her homework.

“Hey, you're up early. You sleep okay?” Jason kissed her on the top of the head and sat next to her on the couch.

“Not really.”

“Want me to make you some tea? My mom used to swear by chamomile to help her sleep. When she was going through chemo, I'd make it for her every night.”

She glanced out the window at the space where the police car had been. With daylight, it had left and none returned. She shivered. “No, thanks. I don't want to be late for class. Tsargyev threatened to lock out anyone who wasn't on time for the final.”

He grabbed her hand and squeezed. “I think he'd understand if you asked to take it another time, Beks. At least till they've caught the killer.”

“That could take weeks, and grades might be posted by then. Besides, I can't hide forever.”

“And I'm not asking you to.” He stifled a yawn behind his hand and stretched, settling deeper into the couch. “I'm just saying let's be careful for a couple of days, that's all. Let's call your professors and ask to take the test somewhere else at another time. Somewhere we can make sure a crazy person isn't waiting to find you because they know your routine.”

Irritated, she stood and crossed over to the kitchen. She opened the fridge, grabbed the container of batter she'd prepped earlier in the morning, and turned toward the stove. Although she'd used half the batter already for herself, there was plenty left for him.

Jason grabbed the container from her hand and set it on the counter. “You don't have to do this, you know.”

“Do what?”

“Act tough. Pretend this doesn't bother you and that you aren't worried.” He started to reach out and caress her cheek but pulled his hand back at the last second. “If you want to go to class, I won't stop you. But I want you to go for the right reason.”

A pair of tears rolled down her cheek and she wiped them off with the back of her hand. “Don't you see…I
have
to go to class. If I let this person win, if I let them think they've scared me into hiding away, then I've lost.”

He scoffed. “This isn't terrorism. You're not a political prisoner. You don't let crazy people win by putting yourself in the path of their crazy. That's insane.”

“I don't have to argue with you, Jason. I'm going to class.” Grabbing her books and her purse from the kitchen table, she walked out of his apartment and slammed the door behind her.

As soon as she stepped outside, the still-cool morning air rushed at her face, waking her with a start.

She was outside. And alone.

Why did he have to be so stubborn?

Taking a deep breath, she checked the time on her phone and started walking toward the campus. His apartment was only a few blocks away, but the campus buildings wouldn't even be unlocked for another hour and a half. She needed somewhere quiet to kill time where no one would think to find her.

The campus was covered in a light fog which lent an ethereal sense to the old buildings and muffled the sounds of her steps as she neared. A bell tolled the half hour, the sound rolling through the mist like thunder. Several times she thought she glimpsed figures in the shadows of buildings or beneath trees, but they would vanish as soon as she focused on them. Probably her mind playing tricks on her. It did that a lot, at least according to her parents.

Shivering slightly against the chill and damp of the fog, she hugged her textbooks tighter to her chest and hurried. One of the cafes had a lighthouse out front, so she went that way. She circled the building once looking for people, and then settled with her back to the black-and-white striped fake tower.

For years growing up she'd spent her days playing around her father's tower—sometimes repelling down the side or climbing up to sit above the light or just reading in the shade and talking to the tower's many visitors. Killamook was one of the more famous towers on the Pacific Coast, often photographed for its idyllic location, and so her family did okay on the income the adjacent bed-n-breakfast afforded them. When she graduated with her business degree, Rebekah planned on helping grow the b-n-b until the little house was full every night and people would travel from across the country to spend the night there.

Her mom would probably be up making breakfast about then, one of her no nonsense meals. Food was going to be the first thing Rebekah elevated, and she'd start by hiring a professional chef to make a truly unique menu. Maybe she could even get one of those food celebrities to come to the b-n-b. That'd really boost business.

The phone in her pocket vibrated. Rebekah fished it out and looked at the screen.

I'm sorry.

Biting her lip, she stared at the phone for a minute. She typed back:
me too.

Three dots appeared at the bottom of her screen while he typed.
Can I come sit with you?

Rebekah jumped up and turned around. Jason stood on the far side of the cafe. He didn't approach but waited for her answer. She typed:
That depends. You going to keep me from going taking my finals?

He shook his head.

Then hurry up. It's creepy outside.

“Is that an official weather forecast?” he asked, smiling hesitantly.

She threw her arms around his neck, her body relaxing as he reached around and pulled her close. “Yes. Can we go back to your apartment?”

Taking her hand in his, he nodded. “Of course. You haven’t finished making me breakfast yet.” 

Rebekah made it to her final exam, but only with a few minutes to spare. He’d wanted her to get there as close to the start as possible to avoid any chance she’d be alone. It made sense. So when he asked that she wait for him afterward, she agreed.

Her Survey of American History final was long and tedious–a series of questions about dates and figures and battles one after the other, A, B, A, D, C. Her phone kept vibrating with text messages through the test, notes of encouragement, probably, from Jason, and she smiled each time another came through even if she couldn't check them.

Two hours flew by, and after handing in her test, she took her books and purse out to the hall and sat on the floor to wait for him. She started humming to herself as she pulled out her phone and clicked it on. Eight messages had queued from an unknown number, and there were two messages from Jason. She clicked on those first.

Text me as soon as your final is over.
She rolled her eyes and read the next. It was from a few minutes ago.
I just finished. Heading your way.

Clicking the back button on her phone, she started to open the messages from the unknown number, but she paused while two of her classmates left the room and headed off down the hall. Once they were out of sight, she started to read.

Slut.

You're just like her.

Have you slept with him yet? He’s attractive, I grant you, but then you pretty girls can always get whoever you want whenever you want.

You're disgusting.

You realize they only use you for sex, right?

You can't hide with him forever.

When I find you, you’re dead.

“Rebekah?”

The voice startled Rebekah and she shoved the phone beneath her legs before she got to read the final text. Dabbing quickly at her eyes, she looked up. “Oh, hi Ems. I…sorry, I just…” Rebekah cleared her throat. “How'd you do on the test?”

Em–short for Emily–was a chubby girl with a happy face and earthy eyes, though today her eyes were bloodshot and circled in shadow. She looked like someone had run her over with a car. Or a train. “Not good. I kinda blanked when I got there, and I studied all night.”

“I'm sure you didn't do that bad.”

The chubby girl looked down at the ground, her bottom lip quivering as her voice cracked. “I could lose my scholarship if I fail. My parents'll kill me. I don't know what to do.”

Rebekah stood, shoving her phone in her pocket, and forced a smile. “Well, I think this calls for ice cream, don't you? I know I could sure use some cookie dough therapy.”

Sniffing, Emily wiped her nose and smiled. “Ice cream sounds perfect. You're such a good friend.”

Rebekah's phone was warm in her pocket.
I'm not sure everyone would agree with that.
“Do you mind if I send a quick text? My boyfriend was supposed to meet me here after the test, and I don't want him to worry.”

“Boyfriend? I didn't know you were seeing someone.” Emily stepped a little away, her shoulders deflating. Two more students left the classroom and nodded in their direction before walking away. “I can just go back to my room if you're busy. I don't want to be a bother.”

“No, it's no bother. I just need a second…” She pulled out her phone, which opened to her messages, and flipped over to Jason. She didn't want to read that last text anyway.
Going to take my friend for ice cream. Meet at cafeteria in 10?

“There. All finished” Clicking off her phone, she slid it in her pocket. “He's going to meet us in the cafeteria in ten minutes.”

“Okay.”

They started walking down the hall to the elevator which would take them down to the first floor, Emily didn't say anything, just walked along like someone had kicked her in the face several times and then used her as a footstool. Maybe it was boy trouble. “Didn't I see you with someone after class last week? Is anything happening there?”

Emily shook her head. “No. I hoped there might be, but it turns out he was into someone else more.”

“Oh, I'm sorry.”

“I'm not.” She shrugged and pushed the button for the elevator. “I want someone who's into me for the right reasons. Someone who appreciates me and thinks I'm beautiful. Why should I waste time on anything less? Besides, I've got someone now and he worships me.”

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. “He sounds great. Anyone I know?”

Em entered the elevator last, pulling something from her pocket. “Don't worry, you'll find out for yourself,” she threatened, stabbing a small syringe into Rebekah's arm and pressing the plunger. “Very soon.”

“Ow.” Rebekah's vision started to blur almost immediately as the hot liquid burned through her arms.
What have I been injected with?
She stumbled back away from Emily, hitting her head on the far side of the elevator, worsening her dizziness. She wanted to fight back, to run, but her legs wouldn't cooperate. She sunk to the floor.

“What did you…” But the soft carpet spun up to great her head before she could force the rest of the words out.

*              *              *

Jason had a bad feeling.

When normal people got bad feelings, it was mostly nerves or indigestion or bad sushi; when Jason had a bad feeling, it meant a demon was nearby.

Rebekah's text had asked him to meet her in the cafeteria, but she didn't show. He was early, so he crossed his arms and stood near the doorway to wait, but as five and then ten and then fifteen minutes passed, he knew something had gone wrong. Jason's instincts were seldom wrong.

His phone vibrated, and he looked down to see a text from Rebekah.

Sorry. We got to talking about Sarah. Would you mind if I just came over to your place when we're finished?

Where are you?
He typed.

Rec Center. My friend changed her mind about ice cream and wanted to hammer out some aggression with racquetball.

I'm coming to meet you.

Don't. I need a little space to think. You understand, right?
A pause.
Maybe when I get back we can talk?

He squeezed his eyes closed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Time. She needed time. But everything had seemed fine once she came back to the apartment. What would she need space for?

Talk? Are you sure you're okay? What’s going on?

Yes. Please. I'll call you when we leave and you can come pick us up. Okay?

No, it wasn't okay, but the last time he'd tried to tell her no to something she'd walked out on him and done it anyway. What choice did he really have?

Okay. Be safe.

I will.

Cursing, he kicked the dirt and walked back to his car. How could she be dumb enough to pull a stunt like this? A serial killer–probably either in league with a demon or a witch or some other paranormal–was hunting her, and she thought it'd be a good time to make sure she didn't let down her friends?

I'll never understand women.

Of course, in her defense she had no idea the paranormal world was more than stories and movies and tv shows. That it was real and it was dark and it was capable of anything. Real monsters weren't confused about being evil; they weren't guilt ridden, hormonal teenagers longing for a 'normal' life and wearing too much hair gel. They killed. Swiftly and gleefully and then they went and killed some more.

Jason got in his car and shifted into reverse, pulling out of the cafeteria parking lot and heading toward the Rec Center. Before he hit the main intersection and turned left, he checked beneath his seat to make sure his extra piece and dagger were still secure. Just because she was that stupid didn't mean that he had to go along with it. He could just watch from a distance.

After all, it's what he'd been doing for the last two years.

His phone rug through the speakers, and he clicked to take the call. “Hello?”

“It's me. If you're with her and she's fine, just say 'wrong number' and I'll hang up.”

Jason winced. “I'm on my way to get her now, Keeper Lorek.”

“Where is she?”

He tried to keep the irritation from his voice. “She went to the Rec Center with one of her friends after the final exam. I tried to stop her, but she wouldn't hear it.”

The Keeper's snort was audible. “Of course she wouldn't. She's my daughter.”

“I'm on my way over there now.” He slowed down for a couple of students in the crosswalk. No one looked up at him. “The tracking on her phone shows that she's there, but I just want to make sure.”

“Send me a text once you get a visual on her. I’m following up on a lead about a small herd of satyrs in Siuslaw Forrest.” She paused and her voice took on a razor’s edge of threat. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you? Sheltering demons is one of the Four.”

Jason’s free hand clenched the wheel. If she found out about the satyrs, the Elder’s life would be forfeit and his family banished. The Hunters would come and burn the entire region, establishing a new authority in their wake. “We patrol that region regularly,” he said, selecting each word with precision as he pulled his truck over into a temporary parking space. “I think if there were demons hiding out there that we would know it. A breach like that would make this whole region volatile and vulnerable. Thousands of lives would be at risk, not to mention the damage to the seals locking the demons in the Red.”

“That’s exactly right.”

Opening the center console of his truck, he pulled out a small flip phone–an untraceable burner he’d paid cash for several years ago–and sent a quick text.
Go underground. Now.
“Let me know what you find, but I think it’s a dead end. You’d be better off spending your time tracking down Sarah’s former lovers and seeing if there are any disgruntled ex-girlfriends dabbling with witchcraft. Or a jealous elf. You know how they can get when they think something of theirs has been taken.”

She sighed in frustration. “Elder Xou is pursuing that avenue in conjunction with the police, and I’m not allowed near them.”

“Detective Nolan is one of the good ones. He’s on our side.”

“Humans are always on their own side,” she snapped. “No matter what they may claim.”

Then why are you so determined your daughter remain one?
He wanted to shout but didn’t. Getting her angry wouldn’t do him any good. Instead, he put his truck into gear and pulled back out into traffic. “Rebekah’s phone is on the move. I’ll text once I have a visual.”

She hung up on him.

Usually he’d have to circle the Rec Center parking lot several times before finding an empty space, but the place was almost deserted, whether from concern over the serial killer loose on campus or final exams he didn’t know. Parking at the edge of the lot behind a hedge, he pulled out his flip phone and saw the reply text.

Three.

He exhaled. So far so good for the satyrs at least. Now he had to find Rebekah before something else went wrong. The red dot that marked Rebekah's cell phone was walking toward him, so he ducked down in the seat to wait as she exited, watching his cell phone for her call all the while.

“Where are you…” he muttered, watching the red dot that was supposed to be her as it left the front doors and started walking across the parking lot. Only, she wasn't anywhere in sight. Another girl—brunette with long curls instead of Rebekah's chiseled straight black hair—walked across campus and climbed on the back of a bike. “Shit.”

Jason got out of his car and jogged over to the girl, waving her down. “Excuse me! Hey!”

Eyes wide, the girl started peddling away. “Stay away from me.”

“I'm not going to hurt you! Stop, please.” Jason quit running and held up his hands for peace. The girl paused and looked back. “Look, I think you might have picked up my girlfriend's phone. She's about your height, dark hair around her face. She would have been with a friend of hers.”

She shook her head and started to bike away. “I didn't see anyone like that.”

He cursed and ran a few steps afterward, punching her number into his phone. “Hold up a minute, please. I'm…I'm going to call it, okay?” After a second, her ringtone sounded in the distance. “That's hers.”

The rider stopped and pulled the gym bag she'd been holding around to the front of her body as she fished through it. She pulled out Rebekah's smartphone and held it out. “You're Jason?”

“Yeah, that's me.” Hesitantly, he approached her, watching the security guard from inside the building as he said something into a handset. “You sure you didn't see her even in passing? Maybe in the hall or the locker room? Or by one of the machines.”

“No.” She held out the phone. “Here, take it.”

The Rec Center door opened. “Everything okay out here, miss?” the guard asked, one hand on his gun.

Jason took Rebekah's phone and held it up. “Just getting my girlfriend's phone back.”

“That true?”

“Yeah,” the girl nodded and rose up on her pedals. “Good luck. I hope you find her.”

“Thank you.” Jason answered, putting Rebekah's phone into his pocket and crossing back to his truck before the overanxious guard tried to detain—or shoot—him. He had the characteristic puffy faze and glazed expression of the overly stupid and lazy. The pudgy man's eyes drilled into Jason's back until he started his truck and drove in the opposite direction the girl had headed.