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Authors: Sabrina Street

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Chapter 7: The Introduction

The following day Wyler awoke to emptiness and the sound of nothingness. His mind was usually engaged in the daily duties of being a keeper, shop owner, and husband. He frequently awoke with a busy mind that generally made lists for the day, but today there was nothing. Wyler’s mind was not even plotting or scheming, considering yesterday’s events. Feeling unburdened by his daily routines he reached over to grab Ana, but got nothing but pillow. A usually clear-headed Wyler felt out of sorts without Ana by his side. He got dressed and searched for her but only found Larkin in the kitchen fixing a cup of blood.

True to form and duty, Wyler offered to serve him. “Hey, Larkin. Let me help you with that.”

“That’s okay. I got it. I also fixed you a cup of tea,” said Larkin as he extended the cup of tea toward Wyler.

He took the cup and said, “Thanks. Have you seen Ana?”

“She left for work already. She took her tea with her.”

Ana’s whereabouts caught Wyler by surprise, thus choking himself on a swallow of tea. After he caught his breath from all the coughing he exclaimed, “Work!” and thought,
It’s unlike her not to wake me before leaving for work.

Larkin pointed toward the refrigerator while he took a sip of blood. As the cup left his lips, he finally said, “She left a message for you. It’s over there.”

Without hesitation, Wyler reached around Larkin to pluck the folded note off the refrigerator after he sat his cup down on the counter. He instantly unfolded a piece of light pink stationery paper. Once he opened the paper, it revealed tiny pink flowers etched in a black border around Ana’s beautiful handwriting. Wyler did not read the note aloud but merely smiled as he read the following words:

Good Morning My Love,

I hope you’re not too disappointed at me for not waking you before I left. You were sleeping so peacefully.

The clinic called this morning. They were in desperate need for me to come in a couple hours early. Please don’t worry. I promise I won’t be doing any in home care unless the road conditions are completely safe.

Also with last night’s storm, I might have to work a double. If so, I will abide this dismal time without you with daydreams until I can find myself back into your loving arms. I will miss you like the grass misses the dew in the late summer.

I will call you on my first break. Until then –

I am forever yours,

Your loving bunny –

ANA

As Wyler closed the note, he jubilantly looked over at Larkin with a beaming grin and asked, “Did you figure out what to do with Jezalyn yet?”

Larkin cut his eyes upwards toward him and responded, “No.”

Wyler reached for his cup of tea and said, “Jezalyn has to work today. I will ask her to make tea and while she is busy I will sneak upstairs and get your memoir back.” All he heard was the sound of water as he thought, S
hould I rephrase it as a question or just wait for a response?

“No! Let her keep it,” was the reply Larkin gave after he finished washing his favorite mug.

With a confused expression, Wyler stated, “I thought you wanted it back as soon as possible.”

“I did, but it’s a little too late now.” Larkin explained to Wyler that Jezalyn had read the vampire parts, but he was still unsure if she thought his memoir was a work of fiction or nonfiction. Larkin conveyed the importance of his need to know how she perceived the writing, so he instructed Wyler to inquire about the memoir without directly inquiring about it. Larkin noticed a blank expression on Wyler’s face, so he continued with examples as to how he could complete his task. He told him that the key was to create conversation, by asking her something as simple as, “Did you find the myth book useful; she returned your book so ask if she found anything else to read. Be creative if you have to.”

Moving to the sink to wash is cup, Wyler said, “Okay. I scheduled her to work in half an hour. I will go ahead upstairs and prepare to open the store, after I clean my cup.”

Larkin extended his hand to take the cup. “I will do it for you. Go ahead and open the shop.”

Wyler gave him the cup and left the apartment. He had rounded the stockroom door when he caught a slight glimpse of a figure out of the corner of his eye. He immediately gasped as he reached for a handmade baseball bat.

The figure heard the gasp and immediately spoke out, “It’s me.”

Wyler inhaled deeply as his eyes fixed on Jezalyn’s familiar face. Jezalyn had reported for duty before her scheduled time. He guessed she was eager to make a good impression on her first official day on the job. Loosening his grip on his wooden weapon, Wyler said, “I am sorry about that. You startled me for a second. I was not expecting you for a bit. If you ever need to defend yourself, you know where the bat is now. Just grab it.”

“I didn’t mean to startle you, I thought you might need some help this morning,” taking note of where he placed the bat as she responded.

Wyler directed her to shadow him as he dictated the morning procedures for getting the shop ready to open. As they wandered around the shop he nervously thought,
Now would be a good time to ask about the memoir, but how. Maybe I will think of something…

Jezalyn disrupted his thoughts, “I returned the book you loaned me the other day.”

Wyler smiled and thought,
Yes, she is making this easy for me.

Nervously flicking her nail, she asked, “Um, Wyler. How many books can I borrow at a time?”

Without hesitation he replied, “Two or three. Do you need some more for your report?”

“I was, um, wondering if you had a book on the War of the Roses.”

“The War of the Roses!”

She fidgeted again as she replied, “Yeah, I read something that mentioned it, so I thought it would be interesting to learn a little more about it.”

“Oh! Well, it is time to open. Go get the key out of the cash register and unlock the door. I will go in the back and see what I can find. It might take a minute. Can you man the front desk until I get back?” She nodded, and they strolled toward the register to retrieve the key. Once they reached the counter, she walked over to the register and he walked into the stockroom. He waited for her to start toward the door before he returned to the apartment to consult with Larkin.

Wyler entered the apartment and found Larkin at the kitchen table. “Larkin! I don’t know what to do.”

“I know; I heard her thoughts.”

“What should I do? Give her a history book or go get your memoir?”

Larkin stood up. ”No! Leave the memoir. Here is what we are going to do. You are going to go find a history book that mentions the War of the Roses. Tell her to take it upstairs so that it isn’t lost or damaged. While she is upstairs, I am going to come up to the shop.”

Wyler’s mouth dropped open from shock, “You are going to what!?!”

Putting his hand on Wyler’s shoulder, he repeated himself, “I am going upstairs to the shop.” Then he continued, “You are going to introduce me to her as your particular friend or distant relative. I will be visiting and staying with you for awhile.”

Still astounded at Larkin’s plan, all Wyler could do was nod his head in compliance. Larkin gave him a gesture of dismissal, so he returned to the shop. Wyler promenaded over to a stack of books, pulled out a book about history, and did as Larkin directed. He returned to Jezalyn, handed her the book, and requested that she bring it upstairs for safekeeping. Jezalyn glowed with excitement as she returned to her apartment with the book.

While she was upstairs putting the book away, Larkin snuck upstairs and browsed the antique section. He instructed Wyler to do whatever it took to show her into the antiques where they would conveniently run into each other.

Although it was not Wyler’s place to question Larkin, he felt as his Keeper that he needed to make sure Larkin was not making decisions that would endanger his safety. “Are you sure you want to do this? I really don’t think this is a very good idea.”

“Yes! Now go. She is on her way down.”

Wyler obediently rushed to a cart that already had a few items on it and watched as Jezalyn walk up to him, “Thanks again, Wyler. I can’t wait to read that book.”

“You’re welcome. Here come help me put some of the books out, so you will be aware where to find each genre.”

“Okay,” said Jezalyn following close behind stopping at a nearby shelf to put away a few books.

“Good, it looks like you are becoming familiar where each genre is located,” said Wyler, after noticing Jezalyn took a few books off the cart and placed them in their proper places without being prompted.

“Almost,” responded Jezalyn somewhat nervously. She did not want to give Wyler the impression that she was a slow learner, yet she comforted herself with his comment and the knowledge that it was still only her first day. She watched as Wyler unexpectedly broke his own rule and marched up to a customer.
What should I do? Should I follow him, but he said don’t bother customers. Is this a test? I don’t want to fail and get fired on my first day. Oh, but what if it was not a test and I was supposed to
… She fretted even as Wyler waving her over,
Oh no he looks concerned. Did I just fail
? Jezalyn pushed her thoughts to the back of her mind as she proceeded toward them. She was only several feet away when she saw the man whisper something to Wyler, who smiled. Her nerves eased as she neared them and Wyler’s expression of concern still remained.

***

Wyler had walked over to Larkin, who was grinning. He turned to introduce them but noticed Jezalyn did not follow him. “Why did she not follow me? And what’s up with the grin.”

He let out a laugh and said, “She is following your directions not to bother customers.”

“Oh,” replied Wyler.

“Well don’t just stand there. Wave her over.”

Wyler waved her over without remembering to ask Larkin what introductory name he wanted.

Larkin leaned over and said, “Smile.”

Wyler smiled, but it was too late to mention something to Larkin about it, because Jezalyn was within ear distance. He extended his arm toward Jezalyn and said, “This is Jezalyn. She is my new clerk and tenant.” He swung it toward Larkin, “And this is…”

After a moment’s pause, Larkin elbowed Wyler playfully and waved his hand in a friendly manner toward her, “Hi! My name is Larkin and as you can see my not so good friend over here has forgotten my name already.”

Jezalyn slightly lifted her hand as she giggled about the comment. “Hi. It’s nice to meet you.”

Wyler tried to recover his blunder with a playful remark, “Oh, friend, I could never forget you. I was shocked to see you standing in the middle of my shop that’s all. Jezalyn, he is going to be visiting with us for awhile.”

“Oh.”

Wyler turned to Larkin and said, “Would you like a tour of the shop?”

Before he could nod his head yes Jezalyn asked, “Do you need me to get his bags while you’re showing him around?”

Without missing a beat or even a slight flinch as he spoke, Wyler quickly responded, “No! It would be ungentlemanly of me to let you carry in his bags. Could you show him around, while I grab them?” and without a response, he turned to ask Larkin where his bags were.

Larkin knew he had no bags, but responded in the same steady tone Wyler had. “Oh, they’re right outside the door. I travel light, so I can get them later.”

Jezalyn ogled him in alarm. “Aren’t you scared someone will steal your stuff?” she asked.

Larkin cracked a smile and said, “Not really. This is a small town; nothing scandalous ever happens in a small town. Besides, there was a cop sitting next door.”

Wyler observed them a moment before shaking his head in amazement at how well they were getting along. “Jezalyn, you show him the rest of the store and stockroom. I will get his things.”

Wyler dashed off as she said flipping her hand out to the side, “Well, this is the antique section.”

Larkin watched Wyler sprint toward the front door, so he pointed across the room to a small nook area and asked, “What is that over there?”

Jezalyn had never been to that section, so she responded, “I don’t know. Let’s go check it out.” They passed by Wyler giving him an opportunity to grab Larkin’s fictional bags and start toward the underground apartment.

By the time, they reached the stockroom entrance Wyler was waiting for them. “I placed your bags downstairs. What do you think about the shop?”

“It is quaint and organized.”

Wyler laughed, “You might not want to go into the stockroom then.” Turning toward his employee, he said, “Thank you, Jezalyn. Can you attend the shop alone while I show him where he will be staying?”

She nodded as the word “sure,” escaped her throat as she took a seat on a little, wooden stool behind the counter.

They walked off side by side; Wyler slanted slightly close to Larkin and whispered, “I can’t believe you made me do that. You know Ana’s gonna flip when I tell her this.”

He gave a chuckle as he responded, “Well, at least I haven’t eaten her yet. Ana will be happy to hear that.”

Chapter 8: Checking In

Wyler was at a loss to what he might tell Ana. He only knew he was happy she was not at home, because he knew she would be overly concerned about Larkin introducing himself to Jezalyn. As Wyler showed Larkin to the apartment all he could think was,
How do I tell her?
He mindlessly closed the door behind them as they entered. Wyler was so distracted that he had not noticed Larkin staring at him.

“Wyler.” Larkin waited for him to respond, but he did not. “Wyler!”

Although Larkin’s final exclamation caught his attention, Wyler responded lethargically and mechanically, “Hmm, Can I get you something, Larkin?”

“No, nothing. Stop obsessing—the situation is controllable.”

“I know it is, I’m sure you’ll figure out something with Jezalyn.”

“Then what is bothering you?”

He took a deep breath before releasing his anxiety. “It’s Ana. I don’t know how to tell her about the new situation. She is already uneasy; for she is scared you’ll choose to have her killed. They spent some time together the other day, and she seems to be quite fond of her. Anyway, the news of you introducing yourself to Jezalyn is only going to agitate her further.”

“I wouldn’t worry. She didn’t have a problem with the Julius situation in the end.”

The words, “I know” slipped out of Wyler’s mouth as the phone began to ring.

Larkin, being closer, answered and held the receiver out to Wyler, while he mouth the words “it’s her” with a rather smug smirk that he had not even tried to hide.

Gripping the phone tightly as he brought it to his ear, Wyler camouflaged his tension with a perky greeting. “Hi, Bunny. How is your day going?” As the conversation ensued, Larkin snapped his fingers to get Wyler’s attention before pointing toward the door. Wyler shook his head and watched Larkin hurry out the door that led back to the shop.

Ana’s voice broke his stare, “What are you and Larkin doing today?”

Unmasked anxiety entered his voice, “Oh, nothing.”

Noticing her husband’s nervous tone, she prodded, “That doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“Well, I think it would be better to discuss this when you come home.”

“No! I want to discuss it now. Tell me what is going on over there.” Wyler unfolded the morning’s events to her trying to downplay Larkin’s decision to introduce himself to Jezalyn. Before Wyler’s wife could freak out, he quickly explained Jezalyn was under the impression that Larkin was an old friend who would be staying with them for awhile. Although she had quietly listened to her husband relate the incident, but when he paused for a moment, Ana’s sense of calamity fade as a gritting response rang in his ear. “He did what? Why?”

“I don’t know. I expressed our concern, but he told me not to worry; it was all under control. He must still be trying to decide what to do with her.”

“That is why I called. I thought of a plan to get us out of this situation without Jezalyn having to die.”

“You did!” exclaimed Wyler being caught off guard by his wife’s proactive measures to keep Jezalyn out of harm’s way.

“Don’t say no until you hear me out.”

“Okay. What is it?”

“What if we turn her into a Keeper? I think she could be helpful with Julius and we can go back to aiding only one vampire. And, the best part is she won’t have to die. ”

“I don’t think that will work,” replied Wyler.

“Why not? All we have to do is give her one of our cups of special tea,” countered Ana.

“It’s not that simple, my dear.”

“Why not? All I had to do was drink! Didn’t you?”

Wyler made no response as he pondered Ana’s later question and the event that led to his present position as Larkin’s Keeper: Wyler’s release from General Cornwallis was not the last time he would ever use his medical skills as he had hoped. Many battles ensued between patriot-loyalist mercenaries. He patched up the injured, regardless of distinction, for food and shelter before continuing southward. As he traveled closer to home, he encountered several brutal aftermaths. On one occasion, after stitching up bullet holes and bayonet injuries, he took lodging at a nearby abandoned house. He was exhausted from the sweltering heat, arduous amputations, and disheartening deaths. He did not notice the stench of blood that lingered on him as he curled up on an old porch swing that now sat in what once appeared to be a grand sitting room.

After a few hours, he awoke to find a tall figure lingering over him. He jumped back and exclaimed, “What do you want? Who are you?”

“A stray musket ball hit me. I can’t reach it; it’s lodged in-between my shoulders. I need you to remove it,” requested the stranger.

Wyler had enough experience patching up soldiers to grant his request, so he grabbed his bag and silently walked into the kitchen. “Lie down,” demanded the surgeon as he ran out the back to pump a pail of water. Without hesitation, the stranger did as he requested. Wyler returned to find him shirtless lying on his stomach. A short candle flickered in the dark reflecting a long image of a small knife and a pair of long tong-like tweezers moving towards the convalescent’s back.

“You might want to bear down on something,” insisted Wyler as he prepared to open the wound.

“Just get on with it,” replied the patient without hesitation.

After making a larger incision directly over the hole where the bullet had entered, the stranger did not cry out. He only made a few grunting sounds as Wyler took his fingers and pulled against the sliced tissue to widen the hole. As he dug between his shoulder blades searching for the metal ball, Wyler thought,
I have never seen so much blood.
He poured some water onto his back so that he could get a better view to insert the tweezers and removed the bullet.

Once the bullet was removed, he placed an old dirty rag on the wound and threaded a needle. The rag was quickly saturated and Wyler was getting nervous that he might soon lose his patient from exsanguination. With his needle now threaded, he lifted the rag and blood gushed everywhere. He quickly clenched his teeth down on the threaded needle and gripped the separated skin closed with both hands.

The patient heard his surgeon’s breaths become short and fast, so he spoke. “Calm down. Take a deep breath. You’re almost done. You already got the ball out; I felt it leave my body. All you have to do is suture it up.”

Through his clenched teeth Wyler muttered, “It’s just so much blood. I can’t see where to stitch it up.” Wyler stood there as he thought,
I need another set of hands.
The patient tried to get up. “Don’t move or you’ll bleed to death!”

He laughed, but stood up any way. He stood with his back to Wyler, who still gripped the wound closed. “Listen, you will hand me a bowl of water and I will pour it down my back. Once the blood clears start stitching it closed.”

“You pouring water would help, but I can’t see to stitch from this angle.”

The patient leaned forward, placed his elbows on the table, and said, “Can you see now?”

Wyler moved to the left side of the injured man and said, “Yes!” He handed the stranger a bowl to dip into the bucket of water, which now sat directly under the patient. “Quick, throw some water over your shoulder.” It only took a few scoops of water gliding over his back to wash away enough blood to allow the procedure to continue. The stranger remained motionless as his bent torso dripped blood and water. As his surgeon stitched, he concentrated on the blood rolling around his ribs into the center of his chest before dripping into the almost empty pail of water.

Once his patient’s wound was completely closed, he stepped back and wiped the sweat from his brow leaving a bloody mark against his forehead. Completely in awe of the strangers awareness, he stumbled back to take a seat on an old, flimsy three-legged chair. Exhaling deeply, Wyler said, “It’s closed, but you lost a lot of blood. You should rest and pray that you make it through the night.”

The unconcerned patient made no reference to the concerns, but instead gave a simple, “Thank you” as he put on his blood stained shirt.

“You-‘re” he stuttered, trying to swallow hard so that he could finish his salutation, “welcome. Hand me a bowl of water; my mouth is dry.”

The patient made a repugnant face and said, “I think some of my blood dripped in there.”

He extended his hand, “I just need a sip. A little blood won’t hurt.”

The patient smiled at him brazenly, scooped the bowl into the water pail, and handed it over to him. He cradled the bowl with his blood-covered hands and gulped down the rose-tainted water. After several gulps, he inhaled deeply as he raised his head. “Thanks, so what is your name soldier?”

“Larkin Drythe; I am not a soldier.”

He stood up and trudged off. “I’m Wyler,” he uttered, heading back to his place of slumber.

***

After listening to a long pause, Ana finally said, “If it worked for us, then why would it not work for her?” Her question broke his daydreaming. And, in a somewhat inattentive moment Wyler asked his wife to repeat herself. With annoyance in her voice she granted his request, “I said, if the special tea worked for me, then why won’t it work for her?”

“Becoming a Keeper has rules just as vampires do.”

“What rules? All Larkin has to do is drink until the point of death and replenish the depleted body. It’s kind of simple to turn someone into a vampire, much like drinking one of his special cups of tea. And, Jezalyn loves tea.”

Trying to disguise his surprise at her over simplifying assumption, Wyler took a diplomatic approach when responding. “It’s not that simple, my dear. Once, Larkin told me when a human is that close to the point of death their bodies release endorphins into the blood stream. He says most vampires can’t give up the high that they get, so they don’t or won’t create.”

With a sound of boredom she grumbled, “Whatever. What do vampire rules have to do with Keepers anyway?”

Wyler, being the original vampire keeper, had never actually had to discuss such topics as these, but since he was now sharing the honor he did what any loving husbands who was questioned. He took a firm yet gentle tone as he responded to her snarky remarks, “It is similar in the essence that vampires can’t enter a dwelling unless invited or accepted in, and a human can’t become a Keeper unless they accept the blood; it won’t work if it’s forced on them. Once the blood has been accepted, they are loyal for life.”

“Okay, well. If we are loyal for life, no matter what—why do we drink that tea every day?” she retorted, not ready to consider her plan, for Jezalyn to become Julius’ keeper, failed.

Becoming irritated at Ana, Wyler tried to restrain his annoyance, “Remember, I told you drinking what we call the special tea allows us to age slower; we only age a year for every ten that we drink it. Also, you can’t drink pure vampire blood unless it’s for the change or you will become ill, so we mix it with a liquid.”

She gave a little giggle followed by a sigh, “I know. It’s an attribute I wouldn’t want to give up either.”

“Do you understand why we can’t trick her into drinking the tea?”

“Yes, but what would happen if I had given her the tea?”

Wyler’s tone became serious, “If you tricked her, she would gain all the attributes of a Keeper, but none of the loyalty. She would never be loyal even if she wished to choose it for herself later. She would be more difficult to deal with then Julius.”

“Oh! Good thing she was not awake this morning when I left,” she said with relief in her voice.

With anger, he gripped the phone “You better never—”

Ana quickly interrupted him, “I was only joking, Darling. Please do not be cross with me. You know I would never do anything without talking to you about it first.”

Wyler did not find it funny and said nothing.

“I am sorry, if I upset you. How is the rest of your day going? Did you get that little note I jotted down for you?”

His earlier countenance was replaced by a boyish smirk that slid across his face. “Yes, I did.”

She waited a second for him to say more, but when he didn’t she said, “And, what did you think?”

With all the affection of his heart, he said, “I am that grass anxiously awaiting the dew and you’re the dew that rejuvenates my very soul. I would wither and die without you.”

She tried to choke back a sigh, but could not. “Aw. I love you.” He heard a smacking sound before she continued, “I wish I could come home to you now.”

“Me too, Bunny. I have to go; I need to check on Larkin.”

“Okay, but would you mention to Larkin about making her a Keeper?”

“Sure, Bunny. I will talk with you later.”

“Okay, bye.”

BOOK: The Vampire Keeper
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