The Vampire Keeper (10 page)

Picking up on, Larkin’s masked command, “I think we should. I don’t want people in here nosing around, moving things here and there, gossiping and trying to find out what happened.” He glanced over at Jezalyn and said, “Considering the circumstances, you can have the rest of the day off, too.”

Giving him a warm smile, she said, “Thanks, Wyler, my neck is throbbing.”

Trying to break the ominous tension, Wyler tried to make a light hearted joke. “Perhaps tomorrow will be a better day. You might even make it the entire day without shedding a drop of blood, but then again there are always paper cuts,” he said with a chuckle.

She glared at him and joined in on the joke, even if it was at her own expense. “A little more sweat and a little less blood could do the trick,” she said. Larkin and Wyler laughed as she giggled before she continued, “Yeah. I give the phrase ‘sweat and blood’ a whole new meaning, huh?” They watched as she placed her hand against her neck. Jezalyn informed them, “I’ll be upstairs; I’m going to go lay down for awhile.”

She was almost to the stairs when she heard Larkin’s voice, “Hey, by the way, I finished making comments on your report.”

“Oh, thanks. I am grateful for your help, and I don’t want to be rude, but I will have to go over it later. I think that pill the EMT gave me is making me sleepy.”

“It’s okay. I just wanted you to know I was done in case you wanted to work on it later.”

“Thanks,” she said as she walked up the stairs to her apartment. He watched her frolic away before asking Wyler to make a fresh cup of tea.

“Okay, but let’s go downstairs so that we can talk.”

Not a word passed between them as they descended to the underground apartment; however, Larkin’s mind was not so quiet.
Ugh—almost!? Mrs. Peterson would have all the blame and my Keepers wouldn’t have to cover up anything. She would be dead; I would be free from her thoughts and emotions. The incident was a perfect way to get rid of her, if only I hadn’t miscalculated. By being passive, I’ve let time deteriorate my abilities.

They had reached the kitchen. Wyler moved directly as instructed; he put the water on to boil. Larkin quietly sat down on the couch.

“Larkin?”

“Yes.”

“Did you really save Jezalyn?”

“I thought we just decided I did.”

Tired of receiving the runaround Wyler abruptly responded, “You are avoiding the question. Did you bite Jezalyn?”

Irritated at the insinuation, he snapped, “No! And do not question me again.”

Finding his place, Wyler apologized, “I am sorry. I don’t want us to end up in another Julius situation.”

Larkin, with a calmer voice, said, “I know you are worried, but that was six decades ago and this time is different.”

“I hope so; I don’t think I can protect three vampires,” he said with a sigh. In light of the situation, Wyler took a deep breath and revealed his wife’s plan to make Jezalyn a Keeper.

Without so much as a glance in Wyler’s direction, Larkin firmly stated, “You know it doesn’t work like that. You can’t go around making whoever you want a Keeper. Not only does she have to accept the blood, but she has to be chosen.”

Conceding that his master was correct, he tried another route to get rid of Jezalyn. “What if we introduced her to Julius? No one can resist his charms; she might choose to accept the role.”

Larkin grew agitated inside, but did not exactly know why. He told Wyler no without revealing any of his inner turmoil. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You know how Julius is; he is difficult to keep out of trouble.” Besides, he already decided the best course of action. Now, all he needed was to be present when the next opportunity for disposal presented itself.

Wyler now believed, after recalling Larkin’s smiling face as Jezalyn gave him an appreciative hug that Larkin had an ulterior motive for deciding against the plan. Although it was true, Julius was difficult to keep safe since he was always bucking against the order of things. Not wanting to press his luck, Wyler made one final remark on the subject. “Okay, think about it though. You may want to try it as a last resort,” before he changed the conversation back to Jezalyn’s reaction to pressing charges on Mrs. Peterson.

“Yes, it somewhat caught me by surprise even though I was reading her thoughts.”

“Is she in denial, or does she really think your jacket could have done it?”

“She knows it was a bullet.”

“So, why did she lie?”

“She had several reasons.”

He sat there waiting for Larkin to elaborate, but all he heard was the sound of the kettle hissing and shrilling over the small stovetop flame. He got up directly, turned off the stove, grabbed two cups, and added a tea bag and two cubes of sugar to each cup. “Like what?” he asked Larkin as he poured the boiling water into the cups.

“Mrs. Peterson already had two charges, and Jezalyn didn’t want to add a third.”

Wyler handed Larkin a cup before taking a seat next to him. Wyler contemplated as to whether Jezalyn had truly not pressed charges out of pity. He recalled how insistent she was to have Larkin arrested when she thought it was him who attacked her. Finally, Wyler mumbled, “She didn’t look sure it was the bullet anyway.”

Although Wyler’s response was not intended conversation, Larkin had heard and made a response. “No, it was the bullet. Not only did I hear it flutter by, but I can still feel the burning sensation where the metal grazed her neck,” he responded before taking a sip of his tea.

“I am thinking maybe she does not know. I am sure she has never been shot before,” replied Wyler.

“No. I read her mind, she knows. She noticed the word ‘if’ the cop used. She realized that he wasn’t sure as to what caused the injury, so she made up an excuse so that she would not have to press charges.”

“But why? She was ready to send you to jail when she thought you attacked her.”

“Yes, but if she had said it was a bullet that injured her, she would have to go to court. If that happened, she would have to explain what happened here today to her overly anxious grandfather, and he would make her return home. I am sure she doesn’t want to be forced back home. I bet that is why she would rather report an accident over an incident any day.”

He halted, with a note of intense uncertainty on his face, as he remembered Ana describing Jezalyn’s motives for accepting a position an hour away from college. From this recollection, Wyler concluded that Larkin’s assessment that Jezalyn’s family, being overly concerned, was the driving force behind her reaction and decision not to press charges. “Ana did say her grandfather was extremely protective,” Wyler finally spoke out.

“Well, either way she is more perceptive than you thought. I know you think her somewhat daft when it comes to awareness, but be careful what you and Ana say around her from now on. She knew Chief Ellison could not prove she was actually hit by the bullet from his word choice,” warned Larkin bring the tea cup to his lips but never taking a sip. Instead, he waited for Wyler to finish his tea before requesting its removal. “I don’t want this after all,” he said, and handed the cup to Wyler to put in the sink.

“Do you need some blood?”

He made no response as he got up and lay down on the floor, propping his feet on the couch. After closing his eyes, he finally said, “No. I am going to meditate awhile. That stupid paramedic gave Jezalyn a sedative, and now I’m starting to feel sluggish.”

“Are you sure? A little blood might help.”

Larkin lay on his back unresponsive and thought to himself,
She is about to read my memoir again. I will quench my thirst soon, so it doesn’t matter if she figures out vampires aren’t illusionary.

Wyler quietly finished rinsing the dishes; he knew from previous experiences that he would not get another response from Larkin for awhile. Then a rather arbitrary thought came to him,
Did Larkin refuse blood because he already had some?
He found the thought of Larkin drinking Jezalyn’s blood plausible, so he quietly slipped out of the shop door locking it behind him. Once in the street, he mumbled under his breath, “I must find Ana.”

As Wyler left the bookstore, Jezalyn hung up her phone. She had tried to call Blaise, but only got his voicemail. She left a message that said,
Hey, it’s me. I fell and scraped my neck at work today. You know clumsy ole’ me. Anyway, I am feeling tired, so I’m gonna lay down for a while. I‘ll call you when I get up. Okay, talk to you later
. After leaving the message, she retrieved Larkin’s memoir. Now all snuggled up under the covers, she continued to read somewhere near where she left off.

1545, April

I searched for Isadora and Theron for nearly a year, but found no trace of their existence. If they were still alive, they had become efficient at covering their tracks. I returned home once again to try to feel Theron’s presence, but I felt nothing. I concluded, if I could no longer telepathically connect with my brother, then he must have perished as well. It was with that thought that I heard someone sneaking up through the wilderness that had once been our garden. I could not see who was approaching through the boarded up windows, so I had to rely on other instincts. The scent in the air was a mixture of lye soap, cologne, and death, which was unmistakable since I had once lived with it. He has found me!

Theron had returned, and I embraced him and told him that I had been searching for them, but he pulled away when I asked if Isadora was secure. He looked at me, and with a hint of pain in his eyes, he choked out, “Isadora struggled to leave you behind; as a result, we were captured.”

“Captured!”

“She did not struggle against them. She kept screaming, ‘Is he dead!?!’ I confirmed her assumption since our telepathic connection was…”

“I know. I can’t feel or hear you any more either. The transformation must have severed it.”

The pain in his eyes now turned to anger. “Transformation! Isadora lied. She changed you didn’t she?”

“Calm down, Theron. She did not change me. I don’t know what happened. I just woke up like this.”

“Don’t lie to me, brother. You can’t just wake up a vampire.”

“I am being truthful with you. To my knowledge she did not change me.”

“To your knowledge? That sounds more like an omission than a denial.”

“No. I am saying if she did change me, she did it without me knowing. Where is Isadora? You can ask her for yourself.”

Pain returned to Theron’s eyes, “She is dead!”

Without a thought I lunged forward lifted him above my head and shook him. “Dead!” and with that word, my grief overcame my anger and I instantly released my grip on my brother. “Theron, she can’t be dead; You’re still alive.”

***

Larkin listened to the words that once pierced his heart with tears in his eyes. For a moment he forgot he was bonded to Jezalyn until he heard her thought,
That is so sad. She cannot be dead. They loved each other too much.

***

“I told you we were captured, but I didn’t tell you we were tested.” He removed his left glove and held out his hand revealing a scarred impression, §, “They branded our palms and split us up. I was frantic with worry. The next morning they checked to see if the imprint remained. I knew her hand would heal, but I could do nothing to help her. They proclaimed her a witch and instantly burned her at the stake.”

I watched my brother lightly brush his finger over the scar as he said, “I am only alive because this brand remained.” My anguish about Isadora’s death was intense, and at that moment, I was glad to have our brotherly bond severed so that Theron would not have to endure my pain. If our brotherly telepathic connection had remained after my change, I do not think he would have survived.

***

Jezalyn stopped reading not because she was uninterested, but because she was crying so hard she could no longer make out the words. She placed the book aside and grabbed a tissue. “I can’t believe she died,” said Jezalyn as she lay back down on the bed.

***

Larkin felt Jezalyn’s sorrow and could not believe that anyone could feel that kind of heartache over a stranger. He felt vibrations in his chest as she cried uncontrollably. He finally heard a thought,
Why can’t I stop?
A few minutes later it was accompanied by,
It’s just a story! Take a deep breath.
He finally felt the vibrations in his chest fade away as she drifted off to sleep. Larkin did not drift off to sleep along with her. Instead, his mind wandered back to that first encounter as a vampire with his brother, for that was when Larkin discovered he had lost his beloved Isadora forever.

It was in the year 1545, almost a year after he turned, that Larkin’s brother told him Isadora had not survived the mob attack. Larkin felt like he had fallen into an abyss of despair. He unwillingly fought the urge to cease to exist; like any other creature, vampires also have an overwhelming urge to self-preserve. Larkin’s animalistic intellect would not allow himself to find comfort in a reckless termination, and now he found himself in an eternity of discontented hell.

The reflection moved beyond his recollection of Isadora’s demise to Theron, who asked, “What happened to you? What does it feel like—to be a vampire?”

Larkin’s explanation began from the moment he had reawaken, “I climbed out of a shallow grave only to find no one in sight. It was late and the breeze felt like a bitter frost that rapped against me.”

“Cold! It was late spring when we got attacked.”

“Yes, I know. I was unsure as to why I was cold; everything was hazy. I stumbled around for a while searching for shelter, but the cold was harsh and I found it difficult to proceed, so I huddled underneath a nearby tree. It was there that I realized what I had become.”

Theron did not respond to Larkin’s last statement. He paused and with an attentive ear waited for his bother to continue.

After a moment, Larkin went on. “I remembered that we were fleeing the village, but the Myron brothers cut us off at the pass. We killed one, and I fought off the other so that you could escort Isadora to safety, but once you reached the edge of the woods, their father ambushed me with his pitchfork.”

Watching Larkin rub his stomach Theron asked, “Did it leave a scar?”

Larkin raised his shirt, “No, but when I recollected that I was run through with a pitch fork I checked and found three holes the size of a grape.”

“A grape? Are you sure you are remembering correctly?”

“Yes, brother. Do you recall when Isadora pierced her palm with that rose shaped glass perfume stopper?”

“Yes. The hole shrank until it was gone.”

“Precisely! It was the combination of remembering my fatal wound and Isadora’s healing power, alongside my enhanced vision and hearing that led me to conclude that I was no longer human.”

“Enhanced?” he asked with a puzzled look on his face. Trying to hold back his sudden anger, Theron questioned, “Isadora has healing power? Did she plan the change?”

Larkin gave a simple shake of the head and continued on with the account of his transformation. “I knew it was a light breeze because the leaves barely moved. However, it sounded and felt like it was rushing through me. I felt cold from within, so cold that it gave a new connotation to the phrase chilled to the bone.”

“So that’s why you felt cold, because your senses were enhanced.”

“No. Not really,” he said. “It had to do more with…” he hesitated and stopped.

Theron overly jealous toward his vampire brother blurted out, “With what?”

Larkin peered past him as he recollected, “The night was rapidly approaching dawn, so I ran for cover remembering that Isadora once told me that the sun and fire were a vampire’s only true rival. Luckily, I came upon a graveyard because the sun was about ready for battle, so I ran toward the entrance of the closest tomb. I was only a few yards from safety when the sun beamed down on me, but I did not stop running. I entered the tomb and did a quick check. I was surprised to discover the sun did not affect me like Isadora said it would.”

Theron in a fit of anger charged at his brother yelling, “I knew it! Admit it! It was planned.”

He flung his attacker to the ground knocking the wind out of him with as much effort as it would take to raise one finger. “No! I told you. It wasn’t planned. You have to believe me. Have I ever lied to you before?” He reached one hand out to his brother who was on the floor holding his lower neck gasping for air, “I am sorry, Brother. I was only trying to divert you. I forget my ability sometimes.”

Theron’s breathing had returned to normal as he took his hand. “If it was not planned, then why did she tell you what it would be like to turn?”

“She told me because I asked.”

“I asked too, but she never revealed the information about the sun.”

“Maybe she didn’t find it important since we were only Keepers.”

“She found it important enough to inform you.”

“No,” I asked. “Once in the garden, I was holding my spectacles by my side. A beam reflected off the lens creating a small fire. Immediately, I stomped out the fire. Isadora picked up a half-burnt leaf and twirled it about. She blew on the leaf and watched the red line eat away at the leaf until it disappeared. It was after that she told me the leaf was like a vampire caught in the sun.”

Theron was about to doubt his response, but he was not sure how his brother would react to being questioned again. He waited to see if his brother would continue, and he did. “Finally, Isadora let the charred stem fall to the ground, so I questioned her logic. ‘If the sun disintegrates vampires like it did that leaf, then how it was that she was able to sit in the midst of the day and be fine.’ She did not know how or why she was immune to the death rays, for it was rare and almost unheard of.” He paused a second and added, “She was not like other vampires.”

Noticing his brother’s hesitation, Theron insisted that Larkin was not being completely truthful.

He cut his eyes at him and sharply responded, “I’m not lying. I remembered that she told me if I were to change I would be incinerated by the sun.”

“And?” said Theron, urging his brother to continue.

“And—that’s not what happened. Instead of burning me to a crisp, the sun warmed me.” He lightly rubbing his arm, “I could feel the heat.”

“Well, at least you weren’t cold any longer,” Theron said with a roll of the eyes. He was becoming increasingly irritated with the whole conversation. His brother had what he had longed for since his introduction to Isadora. Theron spitefully thought,
First he won her heart, and now he has her eternal gift.

He only smiled at Theron’s sarcasm. “The sun did warm the skin, but I still shivered from within. It was not until the grave keeper came by that I was able to become completely warm.” Theron was still lost in his own thought and did not actually hear what his brother said. Instead, he glowered at him and demanded, “Change me!”

***

Larkin’s memory was interrupted as the weariness of Jezalyn’s sedative took hold on not only her, but also him.

***

While Jezalyn and Larkin were under a drug-induced slumber, Wyler was at the clinic searching for Ana. He entered the building and stopped the first staff person he saw. After reading the name tag he said, “Ms. Sara, I am looking for my wife Ana. Could you point me in the correct direction?”

“I am sorry, sir. She left out on a call about ten minutes ago.”

Wyler had decided to wait for his wife until the nurse told him that she would not be back for several hours. Wyler smiled warmly and said, “I see. Thank you.”

He had already turned to leave when he heard Ms. Sara call after him, “I will tell her you came by.”

He made a full stop, turned, and said, “Tell her nothing serious is the matter, and that I popped by because I never heard back from her.” He knew he had to leave a flippant message for Ana, in light of the situation, so she would not drive frantically home.

Wyler wandered away, and after a while he found himself standing in front of Julius’s place. Julius lived in a modest house Larkin had built for him. The dwelling was simple in design as not to draw attention from the neighbors. He had double pane windows with UV ray protection on both sides installed. This protection only allowed Julius to view the sun for the first and last minutes of the day without harm. The door opened before Wyler could knock, and he stepped in.

“Good afternoon,” said Wyler as the second door shut behind him closing out any possibility of light.

“Wyler?” he mocked, taking a sturdy stance next to his fireplace.

“I only stopped by to see if you have everything you need?”

“You know I do. You were just here a few days ago.”

The word “right,” escaped from his lips coupled by a distant gaze.

“Why are you really here?” demanded Julius, who always liked getting right to the point of things.

Wyler took a deep breath. “It is Larkin.”

“Is he in trouble?”

“In a sense,” said Wyler, and then he relayed the whole story of Jezalyn and Larkin’s incident. He began from the moment Larkin consumed her blood until the most recent event where he claimed to have saved her life.

“I am sure it is nothing.”

“I am not. I’ve been with him for decades; something is different this time. He is not being truthful about what happened.”

“What do you think is different?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she did get hurt—or maybe he indulged.”

Julius chuckled to himself before he replied, “That’s not exactly a crime.”

“He did it upstairs in the shop; anyone could have seen him.”