The Vampire Keeper (5 page)

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Authors: Sabrina Street

BOOK: The Vampire Keeper
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“Okay. Well, my classes were canceled because of the weather. I just love snow days.” Ana nodded, and as Jezalyn turned to leave she heard the door bang shut.

Ana returned to the bedroom, where she found Larkin and Wyler whispering to each other. Ana sat down on the bed holding her head submissively down. “I gave her the candle like you requested. I am sorry I questioned you earlier; I was half asleep.”

Larkin said nothing, but glowered at Wyler. They both got up to leave the room. Ana observed their behavior. She had never seen Larkin this unnerved since the mishap with the last tenant. Her curiosity got the better of her, so she dared to ask, “What’s going on? Larkin, is everything all right?”

They stopped, turned, and glared at her. After a moment’s pause Wyler said, “We might as well tell her. She is going to find out eventually.”

Larkin contemplated a moment more and spoke, “I can hear and feel Jezalyn.”

“How is that possible?” and before Wyler could respond to his wife’s alarm she blurted out, “Unless you drank her blood! When—Why—You drank her blood!”

Wyler swallowed hard before he responded, “Bunny, don’t get mad, but we had a little accident yesterday.”

Ana stood up and retorted, “What accident? Tell me what happened!”

Knowing Wyler would try to calm her before relating the story, Larkin took over and gave her a rundown of events so that he could get back to recovering his book. “Wyler let Jezalyn make me a cup of tea. She cut her hand opening the sugar bag and some of the blood must have dropped into the cup. Not realizing that blood may have dripped in the cup, he brought the tea down to me. Now I’m connected to Jezalyn because I drank the blood-spiked tea. However, my main concern at the moment is not the incident that bonds her every thought and emotion to me, but my memoir she found and just brought back to her room to read.”

“Oh, my giddy aunt! How did she get your memoir?” asked Ana as if that now took precedence over the inevitable outcome of Larkin having drunk her blood.

Growing irritated, Larkin answered, “It’s unimportant how she got it. The important thing is to get it back—” Stopping abruptly, he mentally finished his thought,
Because it holds my dearest and darkest secrets
.

“Don’t worry; she will probably think it’s an old book. We should just relax. I don’t think we should make this into that big of a deal,” retorted Ana.

Wyler, seeing Larkin aggravated with the simple dismissal of the situation, told his wife, “What if she figures out it is a real journal? Do you know what kind of problems it could cause for us?”

Careful not to betray his own insecurities, Larkin interjected the simplest explanation, “I need it back before she discovers vampires are real.”

It finally dawned on Ana what was at stake and she began to think of a plan to help reunite Larkin with his memoir. Larkin was having a hard time coming up with an effective plan, since Jezalyn’s thoughts were still interrupting his.

***

Jezalyn was overjoyed to find the stove was gas and not electric. She made herself a cup of hot tea to drink before sitting down to read. Larkin, with concern in his voice, announced, “She’s finished making her tea and is about to sit down to read.”

Ana blurted out, “I got it! One of us can sneak upstairs and grab it when she comes down for work.”

Wyler shaking his head said, “Nope. That won’t work. She is off today.” After a short pause, Wyler continued, “How about this? Larkin, you’re bound to Jezalyn, which allows you to keep track of her thoughts, right? If you follow her progression, we will find out what type of book she thinks she is reading.”

Ana responded, “Yeah, that’s a good idea. What do you think, Larkin?”

Larkin stared at them, “Well, it’s not like her thoughts are going to go away—unless she miraculously dies.”

Wyler glanced over, “Well that’s the other option. We could either kill or turn her. One or the other will have to take place eventually. Which one would you prefer?” Although the question ‘which one you prefer’ slipped out of Wyler’s mouth with ease, he cringed inside. Wyler hated the thought of having to be so callous, but as Larkin’s Keeper it was his job to provide all the options and follow through with whatever Larkin would decide.

However, Ana, unlike her husband, was unable to contain her emotion, and distressed by the nature of the sudden change in topic, she interjected, “She has family that would come searching for her.”

Wyler said, “So did Julius, but we’ve managed to evade that problem and remain here at home.”

“That’s true,” said Larkin with a smirk.

Wyler made a grim face, ready to have the unpleasant situation behind him, he asked, “So which will it be—immediate death or death for eternity?”

Larkin did not respond right away. He placed his hands on his head and rubbed his temples trying to think clearly. Only one thought came to mind,
I should have snapped her neck when I realized it was her blood that I consumed.
Without removing his hands he finally said, “I am not quite sure. First, let’s get the book back. I will decide what to do with her afterwards.” He paused a moment before ordering, “Just go back to bed. I will monitor her thoughts.”

Ana and Wyler went back to bed as Larkin returned to his bed, or rather his usual resting spot on the living room floor. Larkin propped up his feet on the couch, closed his eyes, and listened to Jezalyn’s voice echoing in his head.

Chapter 6: The Memoir

Jezalyn took a sip of her hot tea as she sat down on the worn couch; it was surprisingly more comfortable than it looked. She carefully untied the frayed twine and lightly tossed it to the other side of the couch. She gently laid the bundle on the cushion next to her, picked up the first page, and began to read.

***

After leaving Wyler and Ana in the bedroom, Larkin returned to his normal spot on the floor, propped his feet on the couch, closed his eyes, and listened to Jezalyn’s voice as it echoed in his head.

It was during the War of the Roses that we met her. She was the most beautiful creature I ever beheld. She had long, wavy auburn hair that fell against her heart shaped face and flowed over her shoulders and down her back. Her honeyed skin set off the most stunning emerald eyes that I had ever seen on a woman. I was so enamored by the exquisiteness of her beauty that I would do anything that she asked of me, so when she asked me to become her Keeper I did not refuse. I gladly gave my life and soul to make sure she was not harmed or presumed to be a witch
.

***

Jezalyn could not make out the next few paragraphs, so she put the page down and picked up the next one as she thought,
I wonder, what a Keeper is? And, is she really a witch
?

***

Larkin never heard anyone relate his most confidential personal feelings. “Just keep reading about my once beloved and you will find out,” he mumbled answering her question. Soon, the sound of Jezalyn’s voice returned.

My brother returned home and discovered her. He was about to turn me in for harboring what he thought was a witch, but before he could, I placed a small seed of doubt in his mind. Not wanting to falsely accuse his own brother, he agreed to go down and meet Isadora in person. He introduced himself to her as a distant relation. He did not give his name, Theron Drythe, in case she should turn out to be a witch and later report, out of anger, against him in court. Either way he found her as beautiful as I had, so he decided to devote himself to keeping her safe. Every morning she brought us a special tea. She said the elixir had magical abilities, like the beloved fountain of youth, that would not stop us from aging, but make us age more slowly. We aged only one year for every ten as long as we drank at least a sip or two of the special tea every day. Life as a Keeper was thrilling, for every day was met with the sweetness of sustainable youth. It was within a short period of time that my devotions turned to tender admiration, but I was in no hurry to secure her affections since I now had time on my side. I was more subtle with my actions of love, while my brother was more forceful at declaring his
.

***

Jezalyn soon found herself at the end of the page.
I wonder who she will choose,
she thought as she eagerly scooped up the next page and continued to read.

I brought her flowers today. They were not her favorite flowers, because spider lilies are not in season. I gathered ordinary lilies, placed spiders on them, and left them on her little table while she was out. When she returned to her room, they were the first thing she noticed. I watched her reaction from the window as she giggled and smiled at the token.

***

Jezalyn paused and Larkin realized that he was holding his breath and his heart was pounding. The tension in his throat seemed to move to his stomach, but he was able to dismiss it with the sound of Jezalyn’s voice, though not for long, for Jezalyn was about to reveal the first reassurance Larkin ever received from the woman he most ardently admired.

When I went to bed that night I found a folded handkerchief under my pillow. Once unfolded, it revealed the impression of red lips. I lay there with it clutched to my chest dreaming of what it would be like for her lips to be upon mine.

***

She paused again and Larkin felt his heart pound and his breath quicken. He could feel a pressure building in his throat and the pit of his stomach, a familiar but bittersweet sensation.
Oh, please let her tire of these recollections. They are resurfacing too many old feelings that I thought were dead and buried…
and his plea was unheard, for her thoughts once again interrupted his. Larkin soon realized her thoughts were of him and his brother. He listened to her analyze the recollections of his personal journal. Jezalyn thought,
I knew it. I would have gone for the more subtle one also, who wants someone forceful and full of themselves. People like that feel they are more deserving, so they just take, take, take, and never give.

Suddenly a flood of nostalgia washed over him as he remembered the sweet tokens of love that passed between them, time seemed to intensify their love. He also recollected the first time he stole a kiss; they were outside in a grove picking berries in the moonlight. He felt the warmth of the moonlight as it glimmered over her face when his lips touched hers for the first time. After this, he could only conclude that his feelings were unmistakable in spite of the expanse of time since his beloved Isadora first awakened his emotions.

***

Jezalyn’s cell phone rang, so she set down the page and ran into the bedroom to answer it. “Hello. Hi, Grandpa. How are you this morning?”

“I am good. I saw there was bad weather up that way last night. Are you alright up there?” he questioned. Jezalyn peered out the window and took in the picturesque scene once again. Her thoughts were interrupted by her grandpa’s voice, “Hey! I said is everything okay up there?”

“Yes! Don’t worry, Grandpa, I am fine. It snowed last night, and the ice covered trees greeted me with a bow, so I bowed right back.”

“Oh. Well, do not get out on the road in these conditions,” cautioned her grandfather as he always had, for he was the most protective guardian one had ever known.

Jezalyn thought,
He hears nothing about what interests me. He has a one-track mind that is always concerned with my safety. As much as I love him, I wish he would not worry so much and listen to me when I speak. I am an adult now,
and with that final thought, she responded with a sigh “I won’t. School is closed, so I am staying in today.”

“Good, I—”

The phone vibrated against her head, from a text message, drew her attention away from what her grandpa was telling her. She broke in and said, “Hey, grandpa don’t worry I am staying in I promise, but I have to go. I am going downstairs to see if Ana has a candle I can borrow.”

“Okay. Call me if you need something, or if you go somewhere.”

“Okay, I will.” Next, she said, “Bye, Grandpa,” and hung up the phone as he returned her goodbye.

She quickly opened the message; it was from Blaise. “I tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn’t. What you doing?”

She typed back, “Just talked to Grandpa and now about to read a book from the bookstore.”

After a few minutes, she got another message that read, “Oh, ok—text me when you’re done.”

Torn between reading the journal and talking to Blaise, she decided it would be a good thing not to be readily available all the time, so she chose to read the book and responded back. “Ok, ttyl”.

***

Larkin listened intently to Jezalyn’s conversation. A smile broke out as she described the scene outside. His own thoughts took over and consumed his mind;
She sees the loveliness in things that most would only presume to be ordinary. I don’t believe anyone else would have greeted the trees back either,
he thought
.
Then as if she had needed a defense for her way of thinking, Larkin continued to make a case in his head for her.
Besides, most people would walk by without ever observing any part of their surroundings. I myself see only slumped over trees where she sees them bowing gracefully toward her.
The wave of nostalgia returned as he thought about her perspective and presumable innocence. It was afterwards that he realized the old familiar sensation, almost painful, but pleasantly so were not his old feelings reemerging, but must belong if not to him then to Jezalyn. He assumed,
She must have been flooded with emotions, or was it affection, as she read my memoirs,
but before he could contemplate his new declaration, he heard her.
She is reading again. Wait—she must have flipped to the center. Oh no! She is about to read one of my secrets.

Her voice rang in his head…
I have changed… I do not know how. Isadora said that the only way that someone could turn into a vampire is to be drained almost to the point of death at which point they must be replenished with her blood. I was killed trying to protect her from a witch hunter who was trying to capture and place her on trial. When I fell down, I saw my brother pushing her into the forest. I awoke in a shallow grave and no one was in sight.

Larkin was not quite sure he wanted to know Jezalyn’s reaction, so he tried to block her thoughts but his efforts were useless.
Vampire! Hmm, I wonder if it represents the animalistic battle between the two brothers for her love. On the other hand, could it represent the lust that humans have; it consumes their very existence, thus making them entwine and destined to become one.
He listened as she abandoned the vampire analysis and fixated on what she deemed the most heart-breaking portion of the story.
Pushing her! She did not want to leave him, especially since she had not turned him to be her companion yet. I wonder if vampires get heartbroken—that is a silly notion. I don’t believe I would be able to watch the love of my life die before my eyes. I would have struggled to be removed too.

***

Jezalyn was finishing her thoughts, when she glanced over and noticed the time.
Where did the morning go? I need to work on my homework, so I guess I will have to wait until later to find out if he goes searching for her.
She carefully gathered the papers up, deposited them back in the box, and brought them into her bedroom where she placed them onto her dresser. After setting the memoir aside, Jezalyn grabbed her bag before returning to the living room where she commenced to toil away on her assignments.

***

As Jezalyn sat on her couch doing her homework, across the world a man sat on a ten-foot throne shrouded deep within the Carpathian Mountains near the crumbling ruins of a stone grotto that overlooked a misty wooded valley. The medley of brooks, which sparkled as the water glided over and around old stone boulders, echoed through the valley. He found himself paralyzed with emotion and finally released a sinister snarl accompanied by a laugh as he forcefully proclaimed, “I have found you at last—I knew you weren’t dead.”

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