The Keeper's Vow (2 page)

“You started it,” she snapped
back. 

Katie sighed. They hadn’t always been like
this. Only for the last two years. One summer everything was great,
but within the first year of high school, they couldn’t stand to be
near each other. It took a lot of begging to get them
both
to agree to help her. This would be the first group activity they
did since sophomore year when they all got detention for starting a
food-fight with Christi Taylor. 

“Hey,” Allison said. “Isn’t that the kid
from earlier?” As they moved closer to Katie’s house, she saw
him
standing on her porch, with his wrinkled shirt, fitted
pants, and that same pissy look. 

“Who’s that?” Brian asked. 

“I don’t know.”

“How does he know where you live?” Allison
slowed her steps and furrowed her brows. 

Katie played back every conversation she had
with him. He had come from nowhere. She tried remembering his name
but could only come up with the names of people she already
knew—people she had known for years. People who didn’t know where
she lived. 

He stood there, watching, as she walked up
her driveway. 

“What are you doing here?” she said, glad
Allison and Brian were standing next to her. 

“What do you think?” he frowned. 

“I think you can leave.” She was creeped out
by the way he stood staring at her. His hair was too black, his
eyes too blue, and his skin too smooth. Even in his stillness he
was too alive. She felt something deep in the back of her mind;
stirring, behind a rattling cage. 

Tristan.
 

He said his name was Tristan.

“I’m only going to tell you this one more
time. In fact, I’m making it easy for you. Let’s go inside and
talk.”

Allison and Brian were both staring at him.
Surely they could see it too. He was off—on some brand of
crazy. 

“Get off my property. I don’t know you and
we have nothing to talk about.” She said it and meant it, but she
was curious about what he wanted. After all, he had tried to talk
to her twice that day; however, he was at her
house.
This
was creepy. She didn’t want him thinking he could stalk
her. 

She walked past him and to her door—to show
him he didn’t phase her. He’d have to work harder if he wanted any
of her time. 

He grabbed her arm. “This isn’t a game. We
need to talk now.”

“Get off me!” she yelled. 

Brian pushed his way in-between them.
Tristan grabbed Brian and threw him so hard against the
wood-railing, it creaked. 

Katie pulled her arm, but it was useless.
Panic pricked the back of her neck. He dragged her down the stairs
towards the driveway. Toward a car parked on the curb. Katie
screamed for him to let go. Allison ran past her and stopped midway
between them and the car. 

She held up her hands. “Look, if all you
want is to talk we can calm down, sit on the porch, and you can
talk to Katie.”

Tristan stopped. 

“Let go of me,” Katie said, yanking her arm
back, but it was like pulling at a stick stuck in a cement
wall. 

“Kay, he only wants to—BRIAN
STOP!” 

Katie turned to see Brian lunging at them
with a knife in his hand. Tristan shoved her onto the grass and she
rolled. She tried get up; when she looked up, she sank back down.
The knife stuck out of Tristan’s chest. A knife. 

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” Katie couldn’t
breathe. She couldn’t move. She could only watch as blood grew,
bigger and wider, on his shirt.

Allison cursed. She ran over to Tristan, but
he pushed her away and pulled out the knife. 

Katie swallowed down vomit as blood gushed
out.

“Fucking great,” Tristan said, stumbling
onto the grass next to Katie. “Who the hell carries around an iron
pocket-knife?”

 “How…how’d you know? You couldn’t know
unless you’re a—” Brian started.

“Shut up,” Allison snapped. “Brian, you have
no idea how lucky you are.”

“What are you talking about?” Katie
screamed, eyes still on the growing puddle. Blood poured out of the
rip in his shirt. “Oh my god. Brian, what did you do? Oh my god.”
Tristan’s face started to pale and his breath grew short and
hollow. 

“I…he’s not like us. He can’t be.” Brian
said, standing in the middle of her yard, just as pale as
Tristan.

“Kay, can you do me a favor?” Allison said,
her eyes darting up and down the street. “Put your hands on his
chest and press down hard. Okay?” Allison knelt down and rummaged
through her book-bag like a madwoman. 

“What? Shouldn’t we call the police?” Katie
swallowed down more vomit and started to cry. How had this
happened? Why had this happened? Tristan tried to sit up, but fell
back down. 

“This is all your fault,” he said to her,
grimacing. 

“Kay, do what I told you. Now.” Allison
pulled out her phone.  

Katie reached out trembling hands over his
chest and pressed down lightly. The warm blood spilled between her
fingers.
Harder,
she thought, but she couldn’t stop
shaking.

Tristan screamed. “You’re making this hurt
so much more than it should.”

“Sorry,” she cried, shaking even
more. 

“Lucy?” Allison said into her phone, “Brian
just—can you come to Katie’s house immediately. There’s been an
accident—no, Brian’s fine. He stabbed someone—no, not like
that—Katie is here too. Okay, hurry.”

Katie looked at Allison. “We’re supposed to
call the police, right? We—we should call the police. Why would you
call Brian’s mom?!” 

Allison knelt down next to Katie. “You’re
doing really good, Kay. We are going to press down a little harder.
Okay?” Allison placed her hands firmly on top of Katie’s.

Why the hell hasn’t she called the
police?
Katie pressed down harder. There was so much blood. Too
much blood. What could Brian’s parents do? This boy might be dead
by the time they get here. He was going to die. Here. On her
lawn—all because she didn’t give him five minutes of her time. She
cried harder, gasping, as her tears mixed with his blood. They were
all going to go to jail. Her life was over. They had killed a
boy. 

“Kay, I need you to calm down. Okay? Lucy is
going to be here any minute and everything will be fine.”

“He needs blood, he’s losing so much,” she
said, “Why haven’t you called the police? We could explain we
thought he was kidnaping me. It was an accident. It was an
accident, right?” Katie looked at Brian; he offered no answer. He
turned around and vomited on her dad’s rosebush. 

“Kay, we aren’t calling the police. This is
a special situation.”

“What? Allison, he’s going to die!”

“Shut up, Katalina,” Tristan said between
breaths. She stared into his eyes. They were calm, and if anything,
aggravated. 

“Why? Why aren’t you guys freaking out? Why
did you say Brian was lucky? Am I the only one seeing all of this
blood? He needs a hospital!” Katie cried. 

Before she got any answers, an SUV screeched
into her driveway and Brian’s parents, Will and Lucinda, got
out. 

“Tristan? I told you NOT to leave the
house,” Lucinda said, kneeling next to him. Everyone stared at
Lucinda, even Brian who was still bent over the roses. 

“Lucy, how do you know—” Allison
started. 

“He’s my nephew,” Lucinda said. 

“But he’s a—” Brian gasped. 

“Shut up, Brian,” Will said moving to the
other side of Tristan. “Help me get him in the car. Katie, keep
your hands on that. Got it?” 

Katie did as she was told and they all moved
him into the back of the Anderson’s SUV. 

“I’ll clean up here and take his car back,”
Lucinda said, pulling a set of car keys out of Tristan’s pocket.
“You’re going to have to
earn
these back, Buddy.”

Katie watched as Tristan’s face turned from
pale white to a morbid gray.

“Get home as soon as you can, Lucy. He’s
lost a lot of blood. I’m gonna need help,” Will said. 

“We aren’t going to the hospital?” Katie
screamed. She trusted Brian’s parents—she had spent more of her
childhood with them than her own dad—but
this
was wrong. She
began to shake violently and her bloody hands slipped over his
wound. He screamed. 

“Katie, just sit tight. Everything’s going
to be fine.” Will said, pulling off. She looked out the window to
see Lucinda spraying off the puddle of blood Tristan left in the
grass…covering up a soon to be murder scene.

Katie had just taken part in a murder
cover-up. 

“I’m not dead.” Tristan grimaced, “And I’m
not going to die. Takes more than that to kill a vampire.”

CHAPTER TWO

Katie waited for
him to pass out—for his head to go limp and fall to the side. That
was what happened when people were badly injured. They became
delusional and passed out—but, he continued to stare at her with
blue probing eyes.

In the review mirror, she caught Will’s
eyes. “That’s enough, Tristan,” he said as they took the left turn
into Brian’s adjacent neighborhood. Allison cursed under her
breath.

“I can’t believe you don’t know anything,”
Tristan said between breaths.

“Quiet,” Will snapped.

Tristan coughed up blood. “I just want to
know, who the hell carries a
hunting
knife to school? Isn’t
that against the law, no matter what kind of school you go to?”

“I—I didn’t mean to—” Brian mumbled next to
Katie.

“
Shut up,
Brian,” Will yelled. His
voice boomed throughout the car as he pulled into the driveway of
his house.

“Will,” Katie said. She couldn’t take
anymore. They needed to go to the hospital. Not their house. What
could Will and Lucinda do? They weren’t doctors. She choked back
fresh tears. The blood kept pouring out between her fingers.

“Katie, I know you are confused, but we need
to get him inside. We don’t have much time.” The car jerked to a
stop. Will got out and flew to the back door. He pulled Tristan out
fast and gently. “Brian, get the door. Allison, I need you to get
everything I tell you. Fast.”

Tristan put all his weight on Will as Will
helped him to the door. They moved into the house and Will took
Tristan into one of the back rooms.

Katie stood in the doorway. She couldn’t
stop shaking. She shivered as air hit her blood soaked shirt. There
was blood everywhere. The smell of it burned into her nostrils; the
smell even stained the back of her tongue.

She sat down. She had lost her mind
somewhere in between Brian stabbing Tristan and Will telling her
they weren’t going to the hospital. Tristan had said he was a
“
vampire
”—that’s what she heard while she was losing it—or
maybe
he
was losing
his
mind while spiraling into
deaths arms.

“Bring me water…I need that rubbing alcohol
in here,” Will shouted from the back room. Allison ran from the
hallway to the kitchen and Brian slowly carried bloody towels to
the laundry room. “I need more water. Where’s the water?” Will
shouted every time Allison stopped to rummage in the kitchen
drawers.

“
Do
something, Brian. We need your
help,” Allison said with gauze under her arms and a bowl of water
sloshing onto the carpet as she rushed back down the hall.

Katie looked at Brian standing in the middle
of the kitchen. Doing nothing. She wanted to do something. She
should
do something. But she was like Brian—frozen. Of all
things, why did he have to
stab
Tristan? She didn’t know
whether to be grateful or scared of him. She couldn’t take her eyes
off him—his soft round face and puffy green eyes. She had to keep
watching him. If she didn’t, he would cease to be Brian; his round
face would turn sharp and his eyes would become dull and dead. If
she looked away—even to blink—he’d turn into someone who could stab
another person.

“Katie!” Lucinda shrieked as she came into
the house. “Brian, go get her one of your shirts and a pair of
pants. She’s covered in blood. On—the ivory Valdi. Katie?” Katie
watched Brian disappear up the stairs. “Can you hear me,
Sweetie?”

She looked down at herself. The baby blue
tank-top she wore under her white blouse was purple. The blood
stuck to her stomach. Her navy skirt was darkly stained. Blood.

Tristan’s blood.

She flinched when Lucinda pushed hair out of
her face. “He needs a hospital,” Katie said.

Lucinda waved a finger in front of Katie’s
face. “Follow my finger.” She checked Katie’s pulse. Why her pulse?
She wasn’t the one bleeding out. “You’re just a little shook
up.”

“He lost too much blood,” Katie said.

“Let’s get you off this very expensive couch
and cleaned up. Of all places to sit, you know how expensive that
Valdi is.” Lucinda gently helped her up and lead her to the
bathroom. This house was all of a sudden foreign. This couldn’t be
where she had all of her birthday parties until she was too old for
backyard parties. This couldn’t be the place where she learned how
to do cartwheels and climb trees. This was not the bathroom door
Brian had tied a string to, to help her get rid of her loose front
tooth when they were ten.