The Keep

I assumed we’d head down to the water’s edge and was surprised when he led me off the trail. “Off the path? Hasn’t there been enough trouble?”

“And can’t you be quiet for two minutes?” he snapped back, but even in the dark, I saw in his eyes how he wasn’t truly angry. He led us to a spot looking down at the shore. It was nestled in the hills, perfectly situated so that neither people on the path nor those on the beach would’ve been able to see us.

“You’re full of secrets,” I said.

“I’m not the only one.” The way he sat next to me—sat close next to me—swept the thoughts from my head like a bracing breeze might clear smoke from a room.

As he watched the waves, I stole glances at him. Because, why? Why was he doing this now? Why couldn’t he have taken me on moonlit walks to secret spots before I’d bonded with a vampire? What was he up to?

For once, he was the one to break the silence. With a heavy glance, he asked, “Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind, or are you going to just sit there and brood?”

I whipped my eyes away from him, looking down at the water instead. Bright shards of white moonlight danced on the inky black waves. “I’m not brooding.”

He laughed. A Ronan laugh was a rare thing, and it unsettled me.

I changed the subject. “So your family lives here somewhere?” My gaze swept south, imagining the distant fishing village I’d once spotted from the water.

“I have people here, yes. In a manner of speaking. They’re like…my foster family, I guess you’d say.”

Foster family? This was news. “What happened to your—?” I trailed off, uncertain what the protocol was for conversations like this. Already we were navigating depths that Ronan and I had never plumbed before.

“To my blood kin?” he finished for me. “They’re…elsewhere. But aye, they live.” He phrased it awkwardly, his words bearing a strange echo, like awe, or fear.

“Why aren’t you with them?”

“It’s not my time,” he said. “I grew up here. I am required here.”

His time? How weird was that?

But I quickly forgot about weirdness as something he’d said clicked. “So the sister you told me about…” My heart soared. “She was just a foster sister?” He’d once said I reminded him of his sister, but really, who wants to be sisterly?

“No, Annelise. Charlotte was my real sister.” Damn him, he’d sounded amused. Or patronizing. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

I cringed. Again I wondered, why was he doing this? It made me feel embarrassed, or like a kid. I didn’t even understand why we were having this conversation. Why had he brought me here? It gave me a stab in my chest that sharpened words I might have softened otherwise. “Where exactly is your blood family? Are they on another island?”

I thought of Mei-Ling, who’d escaped. Tom the Draug keeper had put her on a boat, headed toward what he’d called “friends.” Might Ronan’s family be with “friends,” too?

“Aye,” he said, his words clipped and tight with emotion. “My mother…she’s on a different island. With others.”

The honesty surprised me. There were so many stupid, frustrating secrets all around me. A million more questions sprang to mind, but I knew not to push it. This was already way more than I’d ever thought he’d tell me, more than I’d ever expected.

Again, why? Why was he confiding in me like this? Why this casual little glimpse into his life?

Aside from my Scottish vampire, Ronan knew me better than anyone on this island—now that Emma was gone, at least. I was certain he’d guessed at the connection between me and Carden, and yet, thus far, he’d kept his judgments to himself, and for that I was hugely grateful.

He got it. Got how complicated and lonely life on this dark isle could be. But he’d always maintained a veil of formality between us.

What had changed?

Did he just feel sorry for me? He’d seen how distraught I was, how much I needed it. Was this pity bonding?

The optimist in me said it was because he finally trusted me, but my inner pessimist countered that it was because I served some mysterious interest known only to him.

Who knew? Maybe the explanation was as simple as him assuming Carden had already confided everything.

Or…maybe he just felt safe telling me these things precisely because Carden was out there, somewhere, with a claim to me, and therefore Ronan couldn’t make one himself.

That last one gave me a shiver.

Regardless, he’d confided and now it was my turn.

“At least your mom is alive,” I said. “All I’ve got for family is a no-good dad and my”—I made air quotes with my fingers—“stepmom.” I couldn’t even say her name without irony, she’d been that crappy to me. “I had what felt like a family here for, like, half a second. Emma and Yas. Amanda and Judge. Mei-Ling. But they’re all gone.” I stole a look at him, a quick millisecond under my lashes, before looking away. I spoke the words before I chickened out. “Everyone’s gone except for you.”

I could hear in the cadence of his breath that he’d heard what I was really saying—the implication that he was also like family. He didn’t press it, though. He didn’t make some elaborate show of thanking me or act like he had to return the sentiment, and I was grateful.

Instead he said, “Yasuo. You’ve seen him?” Something in his tone told me that he already knew what I’d suspected.

“I did see him. He’s been on me like white on rice, actually.” I let out a humorless laugh. “He blames me for Emma.”

Ronan slid a hand onto my arm. Not the special hypnotic touch…just his touch. “Emma wasn’t your fault.”

“I know.” I shifted away, quickly changing back to a subject that was no less heartbreaking. “Yasuo, when I saw him, he was acting funny. Not like funny ha-ha,” I clarified. “He was off.”

“Yes,” Ronan said, and there was a heaviness in his voice, a heaviness that told me he knew exactly what I was talking about. “I’d hoped to find you myself, to warn you. I’ve been growing concerned. But I suppose you’ve seen for yourself—?”

I did see, but it didn’t mean I understood. “Will he be okay?”

“No, he’ll never be okay again. Yasuo is becoming Draug.”

Draug. Even though I’d guessed, hearing the word made it real. My stomach dropped. “Why? How?”

“I don’t know,” he said, sounding suddenly angry. “There is much I don’t know about the vampiric transition. I know what I’m told, and I’m not told much. Something happened to derail the transformation. I’ve seen it before. Many times.” His anger collapsed into sadness. “He’s gone, Annelise. You must give up on him.”

“On Yasuo? No way. I can’t.”

“You can,” he said sternly, “and you will.”

How could I mourn Yas when he was still here physically? And more than that, there’d been something left of him, something more than just that shell of bones and fangs and wild red eyes. He’d had some memory—he’d spoken of Emma. The last remnants of him were in there somewhere.

Did that mean he still had a soul? Was it leaving his body? Would it eventually leave him completely? I hoped so. I hoped there was a heaven for kids like us. Who knew, maybe there was a big juvie in the sky.

Or was that what ghosts were? These Draug, bearing wisps of memory of a life lived, but cursed to walk the earth. Would Yasuo haunt me?

Tears burned my eyes.

“I’m sorry, Annelise. Truly I am.”

It was an easy, standard sentiment to say, but from Ronan, I appreciated it. I’d lost roommates, friends, and was now watching Yasuo devolve into some mindless monster, and yet I got the sense Ronan understood the desolation I felt.

Could it have been mere pity that drove his words? Did he simply feel bad for me because I was ditched by my vampire boyfriend?

I’d had a million questions about why Ronan was all of a sudden around at just the right times, but oddly, just then, the reason didn’t matter. Whatever his motives for seeking me out, there was one thing I knew: Ronan had lost people, too. He understood my grief.

Which meant he’d understand my need for vengeance.

I decided to take a risk. “Ronan, I found something. Something crazy.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“Crazy?” Ronan looked thrown by the strange direction the conversation had taken. “What have you been up to, Annelise?”

“Nothing,” I protested instantly. Must he always think the worst of me? “I was on the cliffs, near where Trinity—”

“What were you doing on the cliffs?” he interrupted angrily.

“I wasn’t doing anything bad.” I rolled my eyes, but he’d narrowed his. “Okay, fine, nothing that bad. Anyway, I found some runes, like old Viking graffiti. I took a rubbing and translated them.”

I paused, waiting for him to look impressed, but apparently it took a lot more than that to impress Ronan, so I went straight for the punch line. “The runes read: Sonja, ruler of vampires.” I gave a weighty pause. “Like there’d once been a woman.” Another weighty pause, this time with brows raised. “In charge.”

He only nodded quietly.

Nodded.

“What do you mean?” I mimicked his nod. “Did you already know that?”

“No…not that specifically. Not Sonja. But I’ve had…suspicions.”

“Suspicions? What on earth would make you suspect that? I mean, this is huge, Ronan, and you suspected, and you didn’t tell me? Or anyone,” I quickly amended, because really, why would he have told me anything?

“I said I suspected. I didn’t say that I knew.”

“What made you suspect?” I demanded. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">