The Keep: The Watchers (18 page)

The guys grumbled something; then I heard Toby say, “Leave it. I want to get dinner.”

Good old Trainee Toby. I couldn’t kill him in a million years—I was screwed.

Yas shouted at my back, “We’re not done.”

I raised a hand in a wave but didn’t turn around. He was right: We weren’t done, not by a long shot.

I dug deep, knowing what I had to do. I’d get back to the dorm, but it wouldn’t be to lock myself in and hide for the night.

I needed to hit the gym.

L
eaving the dining hall so early meant I had extra time to work out, plus I had the gym almost to myself. Normally, I would’ve liked that…though,
normally
, I wouldn’t have just come from being accosted by a boy gang led by my former best buddy.

Before I’d headed back out, I’d given myself a moment to wallow. Frost was at dinner, and having the room to myself was too irresistible. Besides, now that I was alone, I couldn’t shake this trembly feeling, like my insides had turned to Jell-O. I told myself it was because I’d changed into thin workout clothes in our chilly room, but after that showdown with the guys, I couldn’t help but wonder,
Where’s Carden?

I wasn’t sure whether I should worry or be mad. Surely he’d felt me freaking out. So why hadn’t he come? Even if he hadn’t sensed my alarm, usually he would’ve found me by now, simply to say hi. To steal a kiss.

Just the thought had me putting a hand to my mouth. The guy
had some kiss—not that I had a lot of experience in the matter. There’d only been Carden, plus the one time with Alcántara, if you counted being touched by his cold, precise lips a kiss, which I hated to.

It wasn’t like my vampire not to pursue me. I missed it. Missed him.

My eyes went to the book he’d given me for my birthday, and before I could tell my hands otherwise, I was pulling it from my shelf. All the better to feel sorry for myself, right?

I flipped through, straight to the secret compartment in the back binding, and pulled out the photo of my mother. I’d shown it to Carden—was that why he was upset with me? It was probably lame of me to open up so much. Had it been too much too soon? Maybe he’d panicked.

If vampires were immortal, it sure put a different spin on relationships. Like, forever really was
forever
. Maybe he wasn’t ready for the sort of commitment implied by pictures of one’s dead mother.

With a sigh, I put away the picture and pulled out the rubbing I’d done of runes found in a cliffside cave. Viking graffiti—how cool was that? It was such a human thing, looking at it often made me feel better. Like, maybe I wasn’t alone in this whole humanity thing. A sort of reminder that
this too shall pass
.

I tore out a sheet of notebook paper and hastily copied the runes on a piece of scratch paper before tucking the rubbing back in its hiding place. I had to know what those symbols said, and now, just a few weeks into my Old Norse Dialects class, I finally had the tools to translate. Besides, there was nothing like a project to take my mind off my troubles.

Master Dagursson had taught us the runic letters, and they
actually weren’t too hard to get the hang of. It was what Old Norse was written in before it was Latinized, and there weren’t that many runes anyhow. As for the Norse itself, though German was my expertise, the two languages shared some links, and my grasp of basic grammar was improving.

It took me just a half hour to get it.

I worked it through, finally, slowly reading, “
Vampíru drottinn Sonja
.” I deflated. “Goddammit.” The thing translated to “Sonja, ruled by vampires.” Well, of course she was. Because if there was a Sonja, that poor girl was ruled by the vamps, that was for certain.

I kicked back in my chair, for the moment putting aside the annoyance of it all to let it blow my mind. There’d been some girl on this island, as many as a thousand years ago, named Sonja. She’d maybe been like me, tucking her body into that same niche on that same cliffside, probably hiding from vampires just as I had.
She’d
been ruled by vampires. Just like I was. It was nuts.

I felt a connection across the ages. What’d happened to her? Had boys also turned against her? Mocked and tormented her?

Had Sonja been forced to kill her best friend, too?

Enough. My own drama made me sick, and this stupid translation was no longer helping one bit. I slammed the dictionary shut. Enough wallowing.

I had to get out of there. Feeling bummed wouldn’t help anything. It was time to hit the gym.

It was an impulse I never usually had. Seriously,
never
. But my interaction with the guys had thrown me. I’d been feeling so strong. But pitted against those big almost-vampires, being physically
overwhelmed, trapped and held, it was a rude reminder of how weak I really was. I’d work out till my muscles burned. Till I was too tired to wallow.

But when I entered the gym, I almost spun and walked right back out.

Ronan had beat me there. What was with him lurking everywhere all of a sudden? I wanted to leave, but there was no turning back. The place was empty, and he’d spotted me the moment the metal door screeched open. His head swung up, those haunted eyes meeting mine.

I gave him a tight nod.

He gave me a tight nod back. Well, as good as one could nod while on the mat doing—what
was
he doing?—alternating one-armed push-ups?

Wow.

He stood, mopped his face. Approached. His navy blue T-shirt was almost black with sweat—it clung to a particularly muscular bit of his chest, to a muscle in his upper arm.

My eyes shot to his. His gaze didn’t budge from mine, and though there wasn’t warmth there, it wasn’t cold either. It was like he was waiting. Questioning.

Did he think I’d come to the gym looking for him?

Had
I come looking for him? He was always here, after all.

No. I hadn’t come for Ronan or any guy. I’d come to work out. To get strong.

Though, now that we were both here, I knew what I had to do. When I’d last seen him, I’d casually chatted about Carden-this and Carden-that, when I knew how he felt about vampires…. Or were his strong feelings reserved for
my
vampire in particular? Either way, I owed him an apology.

I realized neither of us had spoken and it was about to get weird, so I slung my coat and bag onto the bleachers and said, “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said back.

Uncomfortable silence.

I looked around the gym, hoping for a distraction. Maybe some jerky Trainee would come and interrupt us. Or another Initiate would come bitch at us about something. But, aside from a Guidon I’d seen go into the locker room, there was nobody.

I girded myself. “Look, I’m sorry about…you know…”

Wait.
What
was I sorry for? For talking about one of the few residents of this godforsaken island who actually cared about me? Why was I supposed to apologize,
exactly
?

Before I could go too far down that path, he surprised me. “It’s I who should be sorry.”

I gave him a startled look. “It is?”

“I shouldn’t have reacted as I did. You’re just trying to survive. In the only way you know how. I understand.”

Now he really had thrown me. “You do?”

“This place has a way of stealing a person’s humanity. When you—” He stopped abruptly, and his eyes sharpened, narrowing in on my arm. “What happened?”

The bruises hadn’t yet formed when I was in my room, but they were there now. The Trainees must’ve hurt me worse than I’d realized. I flexed my right hand and arm. My wrist was the real problem—it didn’t look as bad as the flowery purple marks sprouting on my biceps, but it was way more tender. “Yeah, ow.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Your question,” I repeated flatly. What happened…? There was no avoiding it. He’d hear about it eventually. “Yas and
his friends decided to have some fun with me.” I cringed to avoid the sudden wash of emotion. The topic was too painful—losing Yasuo’s friendship hurt more than any sprain.

I brushed it off and abruptly strode to the back of the gym where we kept things like tape and chalk. “Where’s the tape?” I asked coolly. “I think I should wrap up this wrist.”

“You must keep yourself safe,” he snapped, following close on my heels.

“Here it is.” I snagged one of the rolls of athletic tape and used my teeth to tear off a strip.

“I warned you against this.”

I met his eyes. “Look, it’s not like I wanted to get manhandled by a bunch of guys with mini-fangs.”

“You must avoid walking alone as much as possible.”

I knew he hadn’t intended his comment to hurt, but it had nonetheless. “Whom do you recommend I walk with?”

There was a steadiness in his presence that told me he’d registered how my wounds were more than skin deep. “Then you should do all you can to avoid such situations,” he amended gently. “How was it they were able to corner you?”

I didn’t look at Ronan, but I felt him, his attention heavy and silent at my back. He may have understood my pain, but still, he was waiting for an explanation. I guessed it meant he cared, but it gave me an epiphany: Sometimes it was easier when nobody cared.

“I guess I’m still getting used to the fact that my former best friend wants me dead.” I tried to wrap the tape around my wrist, but my trembling fingers managed only to attach the tape to itself. “Dammit.”

I ripped off another strip to try again, but Ronan took it from
me. “Let me,” he said gently. Slowly, he wound strips of white tape around my wrist. Between my fingers. Around my palm. The rhythmic movements—rip, wrap…rip, wrap—lulled me. Calmed me. “I didn’t realize how deeply this situation with Yasuo had hurt you.” His voice was suddenly husky. Hoarse.

The sound of his concern made my throat tight. “I’d say the whole thing bums me out, yeah.” I didn’t have the guts to meet his eye. Instead, I let his hands mesmerize me. They were guy’s hands. Strong, clean, and broad. Not pale and immaculate vampire hands. Just dinged-up, weathered guy’s hands.

He adjusted, and I realized he’d stopped working. He needed to rip off more tape, but I’d held on to his fingers for a beat too long. I held my breath as—I couldn’t help it—my gaze met his.

Those forest-green eyes burned into me.

I felt slack in my limbs. Warmth tingled up my legs. Did Ronan know what I was feeling? Surely
Carden
was out there somewhere, knowing I felt these sensations.

Wasn’t my vampire jealous? Apparently not enough to appear. It made me feel abandoned…cut loose and flapping in the breeze.

I let go of Ronan’s hand, and he continued with the tape. Had I imagined our connection just then? Carden’s absence had cracked something deep inside me, a tiny hairline fissure apparently wide enough to let one or two traitorous thoughts steal past. Because, while Ronan was in his own world, focused on wrapping my injury, I found myself focusing on his long black lashes. His skin was darker on the very bridge of his nose, probably from all that surfing. I drifted back to his hands. His movements were so sure. What else could his hands—

I froze, reminding myself what else those hands were capable
of. Their hypnotic touch. How they could convince me to do things I didn’t want to do. How they’d convinced me to come to this island.

I pulled away abruptly, smoothing the tape down along my forearm. “I can finish.”

Needless to say, my workout was performed in a daze. I think I did circuit training and some kettlebell work, but who knew? My damp shirt could just as easily have been the result of a cold sweat.

Ronan…there had been something between us this time. I’d imagined it in the past, but tonight I’d felt it, the brush of his fingers like an electric pulse. Or was it? Maybe it was just him using his powerful touch on me.

But he couldn’t fake the expression in his eyes. I’d caught it. Something seeking as he’d looked at me. And wow, how I’d felt something in return. A sensation in my gut, like loosening and tightening all at the same time.

So, now, really, where was Carden? Because he
always
appeared when I got those feelings—though usually it was after midnight and I was dreaming of him. But still, he always showed up when I felt this achy wanting feeling. If he were going to appear, now was the time.