The Last Keeper (2 page)

My loud laugh filled the night air, echoing off the empty buildings. “Perhaps, but then,
I
wouldn’t know about that.”

Whoever they were getting their facts from didn’t know anything about me. Had I found my partner, my mate, I wouldn’t have been within a hundred miles of any Seat. Clearly they weren’t offering a high enough price for information. They never did . . .

The first blow almost surprised me; a laughably feeble fist thrown towards my side. Blocking it easily, I stepped away, luring him to the alley beside what had once been a factory.
 

He followed me, his eyes tracking my movements. When we were hidden from the prying interest of any passers-by, I was free to do as I pleased.
 

Which meant killing the thing before he reported a sighting.
 

My family was here. I would not risk them.
 

Yet I wanted to draw out the fight, wanted to make it last until the lights died, draining the colour away and leaving the city blanketed by darkness and fear. When he came at me, smiling brightly in the fading light, I shook my head and went in for the kill. I ducked another fist and laughed when he took a chunk out of the wall, sending dust and shards of brick into the air. The confidence I sensed in his mind faltered, but only for a second.

“If you wanted an easy kill, go find some other redhead to throw at your master’s feet!” My words did nothing to deter him. He pivoted back to face me, features glowing.
 

The vampire’s fist came flying towards me again, and I grabbed hold of it, using his momentum to swing him off balance and send him tumbling to the ground. A moment later, I hooked my arm around his throat . . . and pulled. The snap was loud in the quiet alley. His body went limp in my arms, the fight leaving him in a rush of stagnant breath.
 

But death was never a sure thing with a snapped neck, not for a vampire.
 

Helen, my sister of sorts, wouldn’t be impressed if I dismembered the body by hand. She’d never get the blood out—or the smell. The best and only way to make sure a vampire was dead was fire, but a fire would draw too much attention. Head and heart were the next best things.
 

Pulling a small knife from my purse, I knelt in the rubble and turned the vampire over. He looked dead enough, eyes fixed and staring, breathing ceased, but I couldn’t take the chance. One stab to the heart, up and in under the arm, and another to the brain, straight through the ear.
 

The sun would incinerate the body as soon as it spread its warmth on another day, burning the overfed vampire until all that remained was ash. So I tucked him out of sight of the road. It was either that or the river.
 

A good fight normally did wonders, easing my tattered nerves, but not tonight. Tonight my mind was filled with a dread that had little to do with the dangerous times.

The mere thought that such petty human battles could affect me was laughable. Wars were fought. They were won, they were lost. And still I lived on.
 

Heaving a sigh, I began my walk home.
 

A large townhouse awaited me in the heart of the city. From rich coloured Indian rugs to antique furniture, it was filled with some of my most prized possessions. But it was the basement I wanted most—so I could cram it tight with our records, piling the books high until it was fit for bursting.
 

“Did you run into any trouble on your way?” Helen asked as soon as I walked in. Her shrewd green eyes watched me closely, checking for injuries.

I shrugged out of my jacket. A distinct chill was in the air despite autumn having not quite arrived. “No, not at all. It just took a while longer to wind down than I thought.”
 

“And yet, you are as tightly wound as when you left,” she commented, taking my coat.

“I feel that something is about to go terribly wrong. Perhaps it’s because we’re here. It’s been so long since I’ve been this close to the heart of things.”
 

“Being close to a Seat of Power will cause you stress, but it has never caused this reaction in you before. When was the last time you slept? Ate?” She narrowed her eyes and refused to let me further into the house until I answered.

“I ate with you and Jayne three nights ago, and I’ll sleep when it comes.” Although what I ate was very little, given the rationing.
 

“You ate, but you didn’t taste the food. And you haven’t slept in months, well before we moved. Not long after you made the decision to move here.”

“I’m perfectly fine.” I turned my back to her, trying to head for the stairs.
 

“That’s a matter of opinion.” She meant well.
 

Helen and I had a unique relationship. To an outsider we were mother and daughter, but I had watched her grow, as I had her mother and her mother before her. We fought, on occasion, like an old married couple, and we could sit for hours discussing her thoughts about the world. She worried about me like any mother would, and I worried about her in the same fashion. We were the best of friends and the closest of sisters. Our relationship had changed so much over the years, moving from my being her aunt, while her mother was still with us, to her being my daughter. And now she was my most trusted companion. The cycle had been the same with her mother, as it would be with her daughter.
 

She was right about one thing, whether or not I was fine was a matter of opinion, and she could see straight through my falsehoods. I was far from “perfectly fine.”
 

“Oh, Serenity?” I stopped, one foot on the stairs. “The charity auction is tomorrow evening.”

“Do I really have to bother?” I asked, turning to look at her.
 

It was part of the price I had to pay for moving to London. My contacts were kind enough to “forget” about Jayne being here instead of being evacuated on the condition I put in a generous appearance at their fundraising evening—including helping to pay for the affair. The money I would have to spend wasn’t an issue; it was the event itself I dreaded.
 

“Unfortunately, but I’m sure it won’t be as bad as you fear. Perhaps you could woo some of the boys that are yet to be sent to war with your dancing skills.”
 

“I would rather waste it than be forced to dance with those pompous idiots,” I muttered as I climbed the stairs.
 

“Shall I inform Sam that he’ll accompany you?” she called after me, and I sensed smug satisfaction in her voice.

“Actually,” I turned to face her again, “I’ll be taking
you.
”

“Oh,” she gasped, sounding pleased. Not quite the reaction I was hoping for. “I best organise another dress for the evening, then.”

“Damn it.”
 

“Language . . .”
 

“When you’re as old as I am, you can use whatever language you please,” I said.

Why would I have a need to dance? I wasn’t built for spending an evening daintily dancing around a hall. I was built for protection, for keeping the peace between the races.
 

“Damn it,” I muttered again. They were slowly becoming my favourite pair of words.
 

The sun was rising once more, and yet another night had been filled with nothing but thought and pointless mind chatter. That made more than six months without sleep by my reckoning. At least. Not a record, not by far, but worrisome.
 

The last time I’d gone longer without sleep, it was because I was fighting for the lives of my brothers and sisters. Trying to get them to safety before . . .

“Auntie?” a small voice asked. “Are you awake?”

“I am,” I answered, matching Jayne’s volume. “What’s the matter, sweetie?”

Jayne was Helen’s five-year-old daughter. She was a beautiful little creature, the mirror of her mother. Of me, as well. Dark red hair tumbled to her shoulders, framing a heart-shaped face and a bright pair of green eyes. She was going to be on the short side, all the women in the family were, but that wouldn’t affect her in the slightest. Already she was feisty.

Crawling onto the bed with me she whispered, “I couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t want to wake Mama.”

“Well, you came to the right place. How about a story?” It always helped her after she’d had a nightmare and I hoped a story would ease her back to sleep for a while.
 

She never told me when that was the problem, but I could see it in her eyes. The light that shined out of them would dull, and she would stare off into space. Her nightmares didn’t come often, but they were occuring with regularity since the move to London.
 

Jayne sighed and snuggled deeper into the warm blankets. “Yes, please.”
 

“Shall I choose?”

When she nodded, I reached into the antique bedside table and pulled out an old, battered book of fairy tales. It wasn’t the kind seen on modern shelves with princesses and princes. These were special stories, and though I didn’t need to read the words, Jayne did.

“Let me see. How about I tell you about two little twins who lived a very long time ago? They were the first twins in the family, the whole race, in fact. But they were not the last . . .” I wasn’t sure why, but I’d chosen my own story to tell.
 

A couple of hours later, we rose for the day. Jayne had fallen into a light sleep partway through the second story, and she slept peacefully until Helen came to find her.
 

It hurt her when her daughter came to me like this. It wasn’t the fact that Jayne had come seeking comfort; it was the fact that she needed to seek comfort at all.
 

“Did she have another nightmare?” Helen whispered, reaching out to stroke her daughter’s cheek.

“She didn’t say, but I think so.” She was worried. “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever for?”

“You cannot tell me you haven’t noticed the increase in her dreams since moving here?
I
brought you with me.
” It was something I was starting to regret, deeply.

“And we chose to come. It has always been a choice. We were never forced to come with you, Serenity. You make that clear each time we move. Always have. Now, enough of this talk. You
will
join us for breakfast today.” It was apparent in her tone and hard look that blaming myself for Jayne’s unrest was not acceptable. It didn’t stop me. Probably didn’t stop her, either.

We all were quiet at breakfast, though Helen tried to start a conversation about the auction that evening—the one where dancing played an uncomfortably large part of the entertainment. It was a futile attempt. All I wanted to do was show up, do my part, and leave. But there was no doubt in my mind I would be forced to endure the entire evening.

“There was some mail for you this morning.” Helen was smiling as I helped clean up after breakfast. Only one reason caused such a joyous response.

“William?” I asked, hardly able to contain my excitement.

She nodded, just once.
 

I grinned, then raced off to see what was in the letter. Correspondence from William was always the highlight of my day, especially considering how hard it must be to get a letter out of France. He was my brother in every way that counted. Fifteen hundred years younger than me, and the only other remaining Keeper. We weren’t related by blood, only by race and purpose, but we were as close as I’d been with my own sister. My twin. I smiled as I read his words.

Dearest Serenity,

I hope this letter finds you well. Of course, I do not expect you to be anything but.

I am sure the dance will not be as bad as it seems. Nor will the attending dandies, as you used to be so fond of calling them. Look at it from their point of view. You are a beautiful young lady with the ability to donate a great deal of money to their cause. I am sure they are just jealous. And if they knew your real age, I am sure their wives would be even more so.

In another matter, I have some news for you. The first is very trivial, really, but I am excited all the same. I found my first grey hair as I write. It is a monumental occasion, I assure you. It is a strange feeling to be growing old after all these years. A strange but good feeling.

On to my other news, Alison is expecting again, so we will have another birth to add to the records before the end of the year. I hope for a girl this time, a miniature replica of my Alison, providing the troubles she is having pass. I love our sons, but a girl would complete the family nicely.

Should this letter arrive before your dreaded occasion, please relax and try to have fun. The toes you step on will heal in time, I promise.

I look forward to hearing of your exploits and injuries.

Love always,

Your Brother,

William

Injuries. That was a long-standing source of amusement between us. In order to avoid these dreaded things, I used to pretend that I had no skill at all when it came to dancing. The truth was I could dance the night away without so much as a thought, but I hated it. It had become a means of torture over the years. On this one occasion, I accidentally stepped on some poor fellow’s toe, breaking the thing . . . well, it had been a running joke ever since.
 

“Serenity?” Helen asked from the doorway. I hadn’t realised that I’d stopped what I was doing. How long had I been sitting here staring off into space? “Is there news?”

“Alison is expecting again.” I smiled and handed her the letter. “William has also found his first grey hair. I am thinking of making a comment regarding his age, though he’ll no doubt come back with something worse.”

“You are a few years older than him,” she said. “Anyway, I came to tell you it’s time to get ready.”

Already? Time must have slipped away from me.
 

“Must I go?” I grumbled again.

“You must keep up appearances. Come now, I picked out your green dress.” She handed me the letter. “I know how much you enjoy wearing it.”