The Keep (The Watchers #4)

The Keep (The Watchers #4) Page 32
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The Keep (The Watchers #4) Page 32

Draug craved the fear of others. They looked like demons, but they’d once been scared boys who’d not survived the transition to Vampire. Despite what Rob thought, I believed I’d have the mental strength to be brave. To stave off that fear.

Draug might’ve craved fear, but they survived on blood. And although I was able to moderate my fear, the pumping of my own blood was something I had no control over.

Draug were thirstiest as the sun set. They’d be too thirsty not to attack me.

It wasn’t yet full dark when they came.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

I smelled him before I saw him. A Draug, coming.

I tugged my arms, testing my bonds, but that only brought a fresh gush of blood from my belly wound. “Oh shit,” I whispered, holding myself very, very still. “Here we go.”

The stench grew. I heard shuffles and snarls now. More than one Draug—a lot more. Craning my neck, I saw them, cresting the hill, ambling toward me, senseless and hungry, looking like something from a zombie movie.

My mind skittered to manic places. Wishful thoughts—how I might be saved, how I might have some undiscovered power to heal my wound—plummeted to grim musings. How best to get myself killed quickly, put out of my misery.

I heard rustling, apart from the Draug. It was the sound of someone elbowing their way through the mob.

Would it be Carden? For an instant, I half dreamed it might be.

But then an artificial sound cut to me. A bzzt, followed by a pungent smell like ozone. Like electricity.

Electricity. I’d heard that sound before. Relief washed through me, listening as the Draug keeper zapped his way through. A mass of them had already gathered around me, staring and drooling like I was the turkey on their Thanksgiving table.

Tom’s wizened face popped into my line of sight. Our eyes met, and he didn’t smile, not precisely. But there was a tiny quirk at the corner of his mouth that said he wasn’t entirely unhappy to see me.

“Excellent timing,” I said, sounding more blasé than I felt.

“What trouble you in now, girl?”

“No trouble”—I shrugged, and the gesture sent a fresh trickle of blood down my side—“just hanging out. Thought I’d pay you a visit.”

Finally, he smiled, baring teeth badly in need of a dentist. He shook his head, tsking. “You’re aye reddin the fire, aren’t ye?”

“Huh?”

“Stirring trouble.” He tugged the rope at my shoulders, and I bit my lips against the flash of pain. Fresh blood oozed from my belly, and one of the Draug snarled. Tom took the cattle prod from the belt at his waist and zapped it. “Back,” he shouted, then muttered, “Damn beasts.” He met my eye. “Shall I help you, then?”

“Um…yes please?”

Sucking at his teeth, he studied the ropes. A few of the Draug jostled him from behind, but Tom cursed under his breath, quickly zapping them back. “I thought they was acting funny. They got all riled, of a sudden. I thought I’d take a look. See what’s what. Didn’t expect to see you again—though don’t know why I should be surprised.” He considered me for a minute, looking very perplexed. “Wee troublemaker, you are.”

I gave him a toothy, pleading smile. “Do you think you could cut me loose now? Please?”

“Aye, I’m at it. I’m at it.” He pulled a knife from his sock and began to saw the rope at my shoulder. “What are you doing out this way anyhow? Girl like you? I told you to stay away from these creatures. You’re a braw thing, and they won’t bother you, one-on-one like. But you’re a wee thing, too. And I don’t care how brave you are; you’re nothing to a pack of thirsty Draug.”

As though on cue, one peered over his shoulder. It was clear he was newly transitioned, his skin less rotted, the hair on his head still full. His eyes flicked to and fro, as though he might remember something if he only tried hard enough.

Oh God. I gasped as a nightmarish thought struck me. Soon that’d be Yasuo.

Moving faster than his age would suggest, Tom reached for his prod and zapped the thing under its chin. He shot me a look. “Keep still.”

“It’s just…I have a friend,” I said. “He’s becoming…” I couldn’t drag my eyes from the new Draug at his back.

“Your friend?” He slashed the first rope free. “Ah, you mean the Chinaman.”

“He’s Japanese,” I snapped. “Japanese American.”

“Whatever you say.” He began to saw the rope at my hip. “Don’t matter what he is. He’ll be Draug by month’s end.” At my shocked look, he clarified. “Yeah, I seen him. He’s mighty close now. They don’t usually turn so soon. Musta had a hard time of it. He’ll be coming to my side any day. You’ll be keeping your distance, if you know what’s right.”

“Don’t worry.” I couldn’t bear to get close to Yasuo. I’d had my suspicions about his fate, but hearing it from Tom’s lips made it real.

Despite what I’d said to Rob, I did blame myself. If I’d figured out a way to save Emma, she’d be here now, and I had no doubt that Yasuo would be right there with her, his arm slung across her shoulders. Tears stung at the thought. “So there’s no way to help him?”

Tom glared. “Don’t go weak on me now.” He worked the other ropes free. “You know as good as I, there’s naught to be done for that boy but mourn.”

As I eased to sitting, he pulled a handkerchief from his inside coat pocket. He shoved it toward me, looking more unsettled than I’d have thought him able. “Take it.” I gave both him and the rag a skeptical look, and he simply foisted the thing into my hands. “It’s clean,” he scolded. He nodded to my belly. “You stop up that cut now, and I’ll walk you back to the path. Them Draug aren’t the only ones who’ll catch this scent. Vamps’ll come soon, sure enough. Best get yourself back in your world now and out of mine.”

I was feeling uncharacteristically fragile. I didn’t know whether it was due to my near death, the run-in with Rob, Yasuo’s fate, or the simple fact that I needed to feed, and I shoved every bit of it back into an increasingly precarious compartment in my mind. Time was short. I had questions, and I suspected Tom had answers.

As we walked back, I glanced uneasily at the Draug. They shuffled behind us, reminding me of confused sheep. “They won’t bother me?”

“Not when there’s this.” He held up his prod. “They’re beasts of habit, anyhow. This ain’t their normal feeding spot.”

I didn’t want to ask what was. Instead, I peppered Tom with questions, a steady stream of things like, “Do you know the villagers? Do they have a celebration? Is it soon? Some fire thing, right?”

He’d given vague nods to each, but at that last, he gave me a sidelong look. “You always talk this much, girl?”

“I thought you knew that already.”

He chuckled to himself. “So I do. But you have a care.” He glanced around. “This island has ears.”

“So will you answer the question?”

He waited but eventually gave a curt nod. “Aye. But that’s the last one.”

I asked it again, more specifically this time, just in case he really would answer only one more question. “Do the vampires celebrate Up Helly Aa?”

He gave me a baffled look. “That there’s a strange choice of question.”

I was silent, waiting—hoping—he’d continue. Or at least finish before I bled out…The slash in my belly throbbed with each step. The lack of Carden’s blood was taking its toll, and I was afraid what I might find when I went back to the dorm to survey my injuries. “Please?” I whispered, hunching in to my pain, hoping a bit of pathos might help my cause.

“Fine,” he finally growled. “The vamps, they celebrate something that night. I don’t know what, but there’s always lots of comings and goings. Sometimes there’s boats—maybe day before, maybe day after—but boats come.”

“Boats?” I pictured the keep in my mind. It was close to the coast, but it was just land on one side and a sharp drop into the sea on the other. Even if the surf wasn’t a roiling, rocky mess, there wasn’t a single dock in sight. “What do boats have to do with it? I wanted to know what they do in the castle.”

He shot me a glare. “Is that a question? Because I told you. You get just the one.”

“Please?”

He mimicked, “Please, please, she says.” He shook his head, looking very put-upon. “All right, girl. But you keep this to yourself.” He shot me a pointed look. “And I didn’t tell you nohow.”

We stopped walking as we reached the path. “Tell me what?” I asked impatiently.

“The boats—”

“Not the boats,” I interrupted. We were running out of time. I was bleeding. It was getting dark. The Draug were groaning now, their thirst palpable. Other beasties were out there, too, and they’d be just as eager to snack on a morsel like me. “You were going to tell me about the castle.”

He stared at me like I was an imbecile. “I am telling about the castle. Get that? The boats come…to the castle.”

“But it’s at the edge of a cliff.”

“So it is. But there’s more than one way into that keep.” He let the notion hang for a moment. “Them boats pull right up, girl. Right up along that cliff. Up to the sea door.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

I headed out first thing Sunday morning, climbing along the coast to check it out. Eyeballing a straight line from the water inland to the castle, I had to guesstimate where this mysterious entrance might’ve been. I refused to think about the series of tunnels I’d need to traverse to get from the sea gate to the bowels of the castle—the prospect of navigating in pitch-darkness gave me the heebie-jeebies.

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