The Keep: The Watchers (37 page)

And forget Alcántara, too. Al was small-time. Some greater force was at work.

But then I saw it. Sonja’s dagger. The misericordia. It gleamed, wiped clean and placed adoringly on its velvet-cushioned platter.

Who was Sonja? What did this all mean? I’d thought she was my heroine, but—oh God—she wasn’t my Wonder Woman at all. She was at the root of all this. Ruling with an iron fist.

I’d thought much about the nature of strength. Of power. Standing there, utterly disempowered, I realized: Such things didn’t exist in a vacuum. Strength was meaningless without something against which it could be measured. There was a yin to every yang. Power wasn’t power until it was tested. Which meant, if there were such creatures as these fighting for dominance, then who were they fighting against? If there was a force this evil, surely somewhere there existed a good just as formidable threatening it.

I was tired of being strong. But I had no choice. I’d be strong a little longer. For Emma. I wouldn’t give these vampires power. I’d take it. And it would start here.

I stared at the misericordia. If it could make vampires, then maybe it could destroy them, too.

I didn’t pause. I took it.

And then I ran. The smoke had cleared, and with it, my thoughts. My instincts burst alive with renewed intensity. My
body was an explosion of muscle and adrenaline. I raced back down the stairs, arms pumping, until I reached the tunnel; then I bounded down passages, guided only by my gut. I was heedless of danger. Heedless of anything but the need to flee. I’d have clawed all the way out of my skin if I could.

I tore off the robe as I ran. Ignoring my injuries, ignoring the elements, the cold and the wind and the darkness, ignoring the very real possibility that I was about to hurtle toward certain death, I leapt from the sea gate and plunged into the waves below.

W
aves dark as midnight sucked at my legs. The freezing water churned, brutal slaps at the back of my head. Caught in the breakers, I couldn’t get my bearings. The surf wasn’t so very deep, but it was violent, tearing my feet out from under me, slamming my face into the rocky sand, holding me down. Waves rolled over me. I couldn’t tell up from down. Churning, churning, I stole a breath, then was sucked back under, pounded some more.

Survive.
I had to survive. I gripped that blade harder, my hand frozen into a claw clutching the misericordia like a lifeline.

Rolling in the breakers, I turned the last of my energy inward. My own fear would kill me, not these waves. I imagined my panic was a balloon…and then I let it go. I could swim. I
would
swim.

I went limp, let my body spin underwater, trying to sense the angle of the riptide. Rocks punched my ribs. Caught my ankle.
My knee slammed hard onto rocky sand. Feeling the bottom beneath my feet, my reaction was instinctive, instant. I jackknifed, kicking up out of the water, bursting as high over the waves as I could, diving sideways. My arms windmilled. I managed to begin a crawl stroke across the riptide.

I made it to shore. Lumbered up the beach. I had to get out of there. Far from the castle.

Calm down. Calm down. Calm down.

Hysteria would kill me. I lengthened my stride, slowing down. I slowed and deepened my breaths.

The knife. I had to protect the knife. I stopped, unzipped my wetsuit enough to slide the dagger in, nestled along my rib cage. Trembling, it took me forever to manage that simple task.

I was alive, though. Maybe Emma was, too.

But Sonja…she was immense power. Pure evil.

I had her blade. Would she sense it missing? I had to hide it. Had to act normal. I sucked in a deep breath, held it, blew it out slowly through my teeth.

I’d return to the dorm. Tomorrow, I’d make a fuss about Frost’s absence. I’d feign shock, surprise.

In the past hours, my world had tilted sharply. Everything I’d thought I understood about the island was wrong. Emma—I had to believe she was alive. Josh couldn’t be trusted. And Alcántara, what of him? Was he friend? Foe?

I’d felt so alone, but was that true? There was always Ronan. Would I see him soon?

My dorm came into view, a hulking shadow in the darkness. A single bulb was lit in the foyer. It was enough to illuminate the person waiting for me.

I
wasn’t
alone. It
was
Ronan, sitting on the front stoop.

“Ronan,” I exclaimed, so unutterably relieved. I took the stairs two at a time, ready to throw myself into his arms.

But then he stood, hands held stiffly behind him. He looked nervous. “Acari Drew,” he said formally.

I stuttered to a halt. My world had just shattered, and now this. Was I losing my mind? How long had I been gone? How much time had I spent in the castle? Suddenly everything, even my own sanity, was thrown into doubt. “What’s going on?” I asked dumbly.

Another figure emerged from the shadows. “Och, my wee dove.”

Carden.
Carden was back.

My mouth opened, but I was unable to make a sound. I realized I was shivering violently, emotions buffeting me more savagely than any surf.

Carden turned to Ronan. Had he sensed the emotion between us? My urge to go to Ronan for comfort? I expected him to lay into the Tracer, but instead the vampire approached him, clasped his hand. Carden put a brotherly arm around Ronan’s shoulders. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for guarding her. It was much to ask, and you have my gratitude.”

The ground jolted beneath me.
Thank you for guarding her.

I’d wondered why Ronan kept showing up, all those times he was concerned for my safety. But he hadn’t been there because he wanted to be. It was because Carden had asked him.

My knees gave way. But Carden was suddenly there, catching me. I shoved him away, steadying my own self. “You asked Ronan to
babysit
me?”

“I knew I’d be away for a time,” Carden said gently.

“So you had Ronan babysit me,” I repeated flatly. I stared at the Tracer, but he didn’t—couldn’t?—meet my gaze. I’d thought I knew him, but after seeing Josh at that ritual, how could I think I knew anybody?

He’d been there for me because Carden had asked him to be. Because if anything had happened to me under his watch, he’d have been in a world of hurt.

Look at me, Ronan.
What about our almost-kiss? Because I hadn’t imagined
that,
had I? I could only guess what would’ve happened to Ronan if something had happened
with
Ronan.

“I dared not leave you to face danger alone,” Carden said gently.

I spun on him. “You were the one who left in the first place. No, check that. You took off…in the night…without telling me.”

“I didn’t know until—”

“You had enough time to ask Ronan to mind me. You put me in his care. What am I to you, a child?” I felt Ronan disappearing into the shadows—of course, he’d want to sit out on the lovers’ quarrel. “Bye,
Tracer
Ronan,” I shot out, putting a cold edge to the formal term of address. “It’s been real.”

Carden took my arm. “Come,
mo
chridhe
. You are upset.”

I made myself flinch away, wanting to lash out. “You bet I’m upset.” I was furious. After the horrors of that ritual, I felt lucky to be alive, and here was Carden, nonchalant as ever with his affections. And the really crap part about the whole thing was that I was angry mostly because I was
embarrassed
. Because seeing him now, I realized how much I’d missed him when he clearly hadn’t even cared enough to say good-bye. “Do you
want
to be with me, or did you come back because you had to?”

“I long to be with you.” His voice was low and mellow, and it rippled over me like warm flowing waters.

“Then why weren’t you? I
needed
you, and you bailed. I lost Emma, I lost Yasuo, and you…you just vanished. You weren’t here when I needed you most.”

“There was something you needed more. If you let me—”

“Cryptic much? You’re just thirsty.” I stormed inside. He could follow me or not.

He followed. “Are you
not
thirsty?” he asked, and he actually sounded baffled.

I stopped short. “Is that it? Did you come back because you craved me? Do you even like me?”

“I came back because you’re mine.” He stepped closer, his body pressing against me as he cupped my cheeks in his hands. “I came back because I love you.”

My throat clenched. He’d called me
love
before, but he’d never said he loved me. Could it be true? I peered hard into his eyes. He was looking so sad, so confused.

I couldn’t trust it. I stepped back, headed to my dorm room. “Why’d you even leave in the first place? After all we shared, all we did…” I tapered off, sudden chagrin choking me. It was so hard not to be insecure about the times we’d been together physically—had I done something wrong? Some rookie error? Did I kiss weird?
What?

He stopped me when we reached my door, putting a fingertip to my chin. “You are angry.”

I cut my eyes away, fumbling with my keys. “You think?”

“I will explain everything. But first you must forgive me.”

“Must I?” I stormed into the room, shivering like crazy now. “You should go. I need to change.”

“I cannot bear this, Annelise. Please look at me.”

I couldn’t. And yet looking at him was all I wanted to do. To look at him. To curl in to him. I was so cold. I’d missed him so much. This close, my blood sang to his. My every sense longed for him. I fought it. “It’s just the stupid bond. That’s the only reason you came back.” I made myself meet his eyes and refused to believe the bewilderment I saw there. “You couldn’t take it anymore. You had to come back when you got too thirsty.”

He looked pained. From his thirst or from my words? “I thirst for you, yes. But your company is what I missed most.”

Hadn’t I always credited his honesty as one of the traits I admired most? He readily admitted his thirst
and
to missing me. He could’ve made up an elaborate lie. Had he really left for a reason? “I thought you wanted to break up with me.”

“Never,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“Then why’d you go?”

“I will explain everything. But it’s been so long. And to have you so close…” He leaned down, touching his forehead to mine. “Please, love. You’re shivering. Let me hold you.”

All I wanted was to curl in to him. I knew how much I’d missed him, but now that he’d come back, I felt how much I
needed
him. That tug deep in my belly, pulling me toward him like I couldn’t do anything but be by his side. But I forced myself to be strong. Hadn’t I proven to myself how strong I was? How powerful?

“No.” I forced out the word.

“Just a single kiss. Then I promise, I will do as you ask.”

“It’s not that easy. I needed you, Carden.”

“I asked Ronan to keep an eye on you. Was he not attentive?”

The words crushed me anew. Ronan had been there for me,
but not truly. It was a swell of emotions, too confusing to consider. “Ronan was fine. But I needed
you
. You were gone for so long.”

“Time flows differently for me. I was gone not a moment longer than was necessary. Trust me when I tell you, you are all I’ve thought about. Being apart from you…it was as though a limb had been torn from me.” He slid his arms around me, and warmth spread through me, soothing me.

How I wanted to believe him. I wanted everything to be okay again. “You should’ve thought of that before you disappeared.”

“I thought only of you when I left,” he said. “I left
for
you.”

“What does that mean?”

“Please, love.” He sounded so…broken. “Just touch me back. Just once. And then I will tell you everything.”

Before I knew it, before I could help it, I was in his arms. He was kissing me, and relief so profound swept through me. Rippled across my skin. Carden felt like home.

And it made me angry. I’d fought so hard to be strong, and just one look, one word, and I was weak again, huddled in his arms. He felt so good. He
was
so good, and so dashing and easy and handsome. Surely girls flung themselves at him wherever he went.

I pushed him away, trying to keep hold of the anger. “Where were you, anyway? Were you with another woman?”

“Aye.” The word was raw, as though torn from him.

That one syllable shattered me.

But then…then the world stopped as he spoke again:

“I went in search of another woman, but not as you think, dear one. I found her. I found your mother.”