The Keep: The Watchers (22 page)

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.”

“C
razy?” 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.

“I can’t say.” He shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “It’s merely that the…nature of things strikes me as suspect. I told you before, I don’t
know
anything.”

“Can’t say, or won’t?” I was too frustrated to give him a chance to answer and waved it away. “Whatever with your
nature of things
.”

“The keep is the realm of vampires and Trainees only,” he protested. “The knowledge, theirs only.”

Carden
could’ve found out. There’d been a day when Carden
would’ve
found out for me. Now more than ever I needed my vampire here. The thought made me cold. I realized the freezing ground was leaching my heat, sending aching tendrils up my spine. I tried not to care—I could no longer afford it.

I scowled, plucking at the grass around me. “I bet the vamps don’t even tell the Trainees everything. I mean, I sure wouldn’t. So many of those guys are such knuckleheads.” I couldn’t imagine kids like Danny or Rob being entrusted with all the Ancient Secrets of Vampire. The Robbies of the world would never flourish into Alcántaras, no matter how much blood they consumed.

If his response to my Sonja translation surprised me, then this next bit floored me. Because instead of scolding me as usual and treating me like a child, he said, “If I tell you something, the one thing that is known outside the castle, do you promise to give up this quest of yours?”

My heart skipped a beat. “I promise to consider it. Now, what
thing
?” I edged closer, lowering my voice. “You have to tell me. What goes on in there?”

He angled his head to meet my eyes, and crap, I’d scooted a little
too
close. But he didn’t seem to notice. He simply continued quietly. “I don’t know much, but I’ve heard the villagers speak of a ritual.” He hesitated, and for once I didn’t press him. It took everything I had to keep quiet and let him come to the conclusion that I was mature enough, trustworthy enough, to share things with. He seemed to make some decision and finally—
finally
—he spoke again, and when he did, it was as though something shifted between us. Maybe it was because of Carden’s departure, or my ascension to Initiate, or maybe it was simply the waves of raw misery wafting off me—but all of a sudden he was treating me more like a peer than a student. “There’s a holiday. In the old religion, it marked midwinter, a celebration of the end of the yule season. On the Anglo-Saxon calendar, it was called Antonsmas.”

“You’re trying to tell me the vampires still celebrate it?”

“Those who hail from these parts would’ve celebrated it as men. Whether as Antonsmas, or the more modern festival we call Up Helly Aa.”

I’d heard of such things before, how Pagan holidays became modernized into Christian ones, but I’d never heard of this one. “What the heck is heely-yah?”

“Up Helly Aa,” he corrected. “The folk of the Northern Isles
see it as an ode to their Viking ancestors. Traditionally, it’s a night of fire and boisterousness.”

“You mean they like to get drunk and burn things,” I clarified.

He gave me one of those Ronan smiles, one of the rare ones where the corners of his eyes crinkled in a way that said he’d thought he might never smile again yet here he was, surprised by one. “Something like that.”

I glanced out to sea, marveling. “And you think the vampires like to party, too?”

“I think they like to party, too, yes.”

I dusted off my hands, suddenly feeling very chipper. “Well, I can’t miss that.”

The magic broke the moment I said it. “You most certainly can miss that,” he snapped. “You promised you’d give up this silliness if I told you.”

So much for the shift between us—we were back to grumpy Ronan scolding the misbehaving Annelise. “I promised to
consider
it.” Before he could dive into the rant I read on his face, I quickly added, “There must be some way to spy on them. Think about it. You said you’d heard about this in the village, but how do
they
know about it? I’ll tell you how. The vampires can’t hold a whole celebration by themselves. They need cooks and cleaners and launderers and…I don’t know…. What else do you need for a party? Whatever it is, they need them. I mean, they won’t even stoop to driving their own cars—you can’t tell me they’ll be the ones tapping the kegs.”

He’d gone ice cold. “You will not be finding out who is
tapping their kegs
,” he said, enunciating each word.

I watched his face for a moment, trying to figure out my
strategy. I couldn’t do this alone—or at least I didn’t want to. But how to get Ronan on my team? He’d already said enough to prove to me he was more on my side than on theirs. He might not be willing to help me—yet—but I sensed somewhere deep down, he probably wanted to take the vampires down as much as I did.

“Listen,” I said. “I think there’s a way.”

“There’s no way.”

“Would you please
listen
?” I leaned over, shoving him with my shoulder, and just that brief brush of my arm against his made my skin buzz. I edged away the tiniest bit in an effort to focus. “I’ve gotten one step closer to the inner circle,” I said, using my best serious professional voice.

“Inner circle? What are you talking about?” His expression went slack. “You best not be telling me you’re getting involved with the Directorate.”

I waved that thought away. “Oh God, nothing like that. I met with Alcántara, and he’s thinking about taking me on as his TA.”

Ronan’s features contracted to life, and he looked
angry
. “His
TA
?”

“You know, like a teacher’s assistant.”

“What are you doing?”

With an innocent smile, I joked, “Don’t you mean,
what am I thinking
?”

But this time, he didn’t so much as crack a smile.

“Fine,” I said. “I know I’m treading on dangerous ground—”

“Deadly ground.”

“Okay, I’m treading on some
badass
ground. But I need to do this, Ronan. I’ve got nothing to lose.”

“I do,” he said, his voice tight.

He shifted, angling his body toward me, and I automatically shifted to face him. I was ready for battle, expecting to face off with Ronan’s anger, but what I saw instead floored me. His face was mere inches from mine, wrenched with worry and something else…something that looked like longing.

“Don’t do this,” he said. “I cannot lose you. I’ve lost too much already.”

I tried to swallow, but it was like I’d forgotten how to operate my throat. He was saying that he didn’t want to lose another friend—right? Because it wasn’t like we had a thing. He knew about Carden. Ronan and I were just buddies. And even if there were no Carden, why would a guy like him ever be interested in me? No, surely I wasn’t sensing what I thought I was sensing. He’d told me once how I reminded him of his dead sister, and there was nothing less romantic than
that
. He had brotherly feelings for me; that was all.

Right?

I had to look away and glanced down instead, which unfortunately had me staring at his hands, fisted on his crossed legs, clenched tightly enough that I could make out the ropes of tendons and veins in the moonlight. I looked at those hands and remembered his touch as he’d so gently wrapped my injured wrist.

Gently and without his powers.

He could’ve used his powers now. I was sure I had no idea at the extent of them—he probably would’ve been able to grab me and just hypnotize me into doing his will. But he wasn’t. His hands were clenched on his lap, so close, and yet a million miles from me.

My eyes shot back up. I was suddenly desperate to understand
him…understand
this
. “Why do you care? And don’t say you don’t,” I quickly added. “You once told me I reminded you of your sister, so I know you have some feelings.”

“I have an interest in your well-being…”

“But?” There was always a
but
.

He had brotherly feelings for me, but…
it became more?
Or
But now I’ve decided I hate you?
But now you’ve got your own vampire?

But
what?

He looked to the water, shutting me out. “Feelings are a luxury I cannot afford.”

I wished I’d learned that lesson before I let myself be gutted by Carden.

And yet this confession was hard to believe. I took in the sight of him. The scruffy black hair—I could tell he’d surfed that morning from the way it was pointing every which way—and the shadow of razor stubble on his jaw. All that darkness and shadow and it only made his green eyes more haunted.