The Last Keeper (34 page)

I almost had to drag the pair of them out of the car when we arrived home.
 

“Martin, I don’t want you to panic,” I said, noticing the extra car in the drive. “There may be a vampire in the house.”

That brought both their heads up. Martin snapped to attention as if he’d been electrocuted. He was trying to shift. Fortunately, he wasn’t able to. He was standing far too close to Lizzy and she would have been hurt.
 

“It’s fine,” I said. “It’s probably Ray.”

“
Probably?
” he growled. Realising he couldn’t shift, he pulled Lizzy behind him instead.
 

I sighed. “Let me check.”
 

Quietly, I stalked towards the house, careful of my every move. I didn’t get further than the brown mini. It was Ray’s, there was no doubt. Only Ray’s car would have an abandoned history book on the passenger seat, and another one on the back. How he found time to read while driving was something I’d have to talk to him about. He may have been much harder to kill since he’d been turned, but he wasn’t completely indestructible.

“It’s Ray,” I called over my shoulder.
 

“How do you know?” Martin asked.

“There is only one man in the world that would think
The History of Ancient Egypt
was in-car entertainment,” I told him, laughing. “Really, it’s fine. We’ll be staying upstairs anyway.”

Lizzy calmed him instantly. She took hold of his arm, stood on her toes, and whispered something in his ear. I tried not to listen, but whatever she said made him back off. He was still reluctant.
 

The three of us walked into the house, and the smell of dinner wafted from the kitchen. Jayne was cooking, but there was no sign of Ray.
 

“He’s upstairs, and Mum was invited out with her new bingo friends,” she said when I poked my head around the door. “And yes, I was nice.”

“We have company.”

“Lizzy’s friends?”
 

“Not quite. Maybe you should take a look for yourself.” I winced when I told her that. I wasn’t sure how she’d take sending her daughter to university and her finding her partner in the same week.

“What happened?” She dried her hands and followed me out of the kitchen.

“There may or may not be a Cat in our living room.” I hung back a little as she walked in. Lizzy was sitting as close as possible to Martin without actually being on his knee. Her arms were wrapped around his waist, her head resting on his shoulder. It was a strange sight, seeing them so comfortable with each other.
 

“Lizzy Anna Johnson!” The volume of Jayne’s voice made
me
jump. “What is going on?”

The pair leapt apart, and Martin sat there, head down, hands in his lap, as though he’d been scolded. Lizzy, however, showed no signs that she’d been caught in such a compromising position with a boy who hadn’t met her mother yet.
 

“Mum, this is Martin. He’s a Cat.” She beamed as she introduced him. “Martin, this is my mum, Jayne.”

“How is this possible?” she demanded, turning on me.

“Don’t look at me! I don’t know what’s happening anymore.”

“I assume you’re staying for dinner, Martin?” Only her words suggested she was trying to be polite. Her tone was anything but.
 

“If that’s all right with you, Mrs. Johnson,” he answered, looking slightly afraid.
 

“Providing you don’t eat me out of house and home, yes.”
 

She was grumbling as she wandered back into the kitchen. Something about it being a good thing she always cooked too much.
 

“Is she mad?” Lizzy whispered, moving away from Martin.

“Come here.” I opened my arms to her, knowing exactly why Jayne had reacted as she had. “She misses your dad. She doesn’t want you to get hurt like she did, and being a Cat comes with its risks. Give her time, and she’ll be telling you two to get a room before you know it.”

Jayne had lost her husband not long after Lizzy was born. She was barely six months old, too young to remember what her mother was like before the accident. It had been a hit and run. Another driver ran a stop light, crashed into the driver’s side of his car, and killed him on impact. The driver wasn’t found until he crashed again three miles down the road. Jim had been a good man, and Jayne had been a wreck for months afterwards. I’d felt so helpless; all I could do was make sure they were taken care of. I couldn’t offer any emotional support, not when my own feelings were still too raw.
 

It had taken Lizzy’s first word to snap Jayne out of her grief, to give her a purpose again. It was hard for her knowing that Lizzy had found her partner. That Lizzy could suffer the same loss she had.
 

Jayne was back in the kitchen, adding to the already giant piles of food she’d prepared.
 

“You all right?”
 

“I will be. Ray is in your room.”

“He can wait a second.” Jayne needed me right now. “What can I do?”
 

“Tell me I’m not losing her,” she whispered. “Again.”

“You’re not losing her, Jayne,” I promised. “She won’t be going anywhere, and he’s part of the most reclusive of all the races. His father is two hundred years old, and his grandmother is the oldest witch alive.”

“You work fast.”

“Not really. I know his grandmother.”

“From the witch trials?”

“Yes. She was old then.” It felt good to be able to make her smile some.

“You saved a lot of them, didn’t you?”

“Not enough, though I tried.”

“You should go and see Ray.” Her whole expression changed, and she looked concerned once more. “He didn’t seem quite right and said he needed to talk to you.”

I didn’t spare a second to give Jayne a quick hug. I took off up the stairs faster than I’d moved in a long while. There was no conflict about barging through my door this time. If there was a chance anything was wrong with Ray, then a piece of wood wasn’t going to stop me from getting to him.

He stood in the far corner of the room, as far away from the door as was possible.
 

“Ray?” I whispered, taking a step closer to him.

“Stop, please,” he begged. “Please.”

“What . . . ?”
 

Everything clicked into place, and I realised what was wrong. I’d found him on Tuesday. We’d spent every spare second together, day and night. That meant that if he’d fed on Sunday or Monday night, he hadn’t fed since.
 

A vampire couldn’t die from starvation. It made them weak and sent them into a kind of delirium, but it wouldn’t kill them. I had some idea of the feelings Ray would have been going through after just one week of not feeding. His senses would’ve been the first to fade—hearing and sight. His strength and speed would’ve been next.
 

All that came before the descent into madness. The need to feed would tear away at his sanity until there was nothing left but a killing machine.
 

“Ray,” I whispered. “You need to feed.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He moaned, trying to back away as I approached.

“You can’t hurt me, remember? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
 

“I didn’t want you to hate me.” His eyes were squeezed shut, his hands clenching repeatedly.
 

“Never. I could
never
hate you.”

There was no choice to be made. No discussions to be had before I did what I did. Before he had a chance to react, or to object, I went to him.
 

The hiss that escaped him was like nothing I’d ever heard. Loud, animalistic, and meant to be a warning.
 

“Listen to me, Ray,” I said, planting my hands on either side of him so that he had nowhere to go. “You can’t hurt me, and I’m more than willing to let you feed from me. Please.”

As soon as I said the word
feed,
his eyes locked onto my throat, and I got my first glimpse of his fangs. His canines were no longer short and human; they were utterly beautiful. Long, curved,
sharp.
On Ray they were nothing short of stunning.
 

“
Please.
”
 

He didn’t need me to ask again. With precision accuracy, he struck, sinking his fangs deep into my neck. A quick burst of pain flared through me as he broke the skin but faded quickly. My hands moved, gripping his shoulders. His moved to support me, cradling my neck and back.
 

I was aware of every tiny detail as he drank: The sharpness of his fangs in my skin. The quiet swallowing as he drank from me. My own deep, even breathing as I relaxed into his embrace and let him take what he needed.
 

It was actually quite pleasant. Not having him draw my blood; that wasn’t so much painful as bearable. What I took great delight in was being able to give him what he needed.
 

Everything had been going well until I realised he wasn’t stopping. Part of me didn’t care. He couldn’t exactly kill me. The more he took, the more I started to enjoy the whole experience, even when he sank to his knees, taking me with him, clutching my body to his.
 

“Ray,” my eyes drifted shut, “you need to stop.”

He’d waited too long to feed. If he didn’t stop, he was going to drain every last drop of blood from me. I couldn’t let him do that, but I didn’t have it in me to stop him. I didn’t want to. Somehow it felt right.

“Ray,” I whispered. “Please, you have to stop.”

I could’ve used my strength to force him, but I’d have hurt him.
 

Fortunately, Jayne had great timing.
 

“Serenity, do you want to come down for . . . ? What the blazes?”
 

She was at my side in a second, practically pushing Ray out of the way to get to me. Her face was frantic as she searched every inch of me before her eyes landed on my neck.

He was startled enough that he stopped, looking up, dazed and confused for a moment. A moment long enough.
 

“What did you—”
 

“Jayne,
don’t
. It was my choice.”

“You
let
him
bite
you?” she cried. “Are you mad?”

“Jayne, I won’t justify my choices to you. Ray needed to feed, and it’s not as if he can do any lasting damage to me.” It had been my choice, and I’d do it again whenever he needed. The fact I was a quick healer helped.

“We are
not
finished discussing this!”
 

“For now we are. I’ll be down for dinner in a few minutes.” I hadn’t discussed what happened with Ray; there was no chance I’d talk to Jayne about it yet.
 

Jayne had always worried about me, and I couldn’t blame her for her reaction, though she’d seen me when I’d been suffering from far worse injuries than mere blood loss. I was already rapidly recovering, despite Ray drinking too much.

“Are you all right?” he asked once the door was safely closed.
 

“I’m fine. Just a little light-headed.”
 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, eyeing the wound on my neck. “May I?”

“Mmhm.” There was no point in telling him it would do no good.
 

A vampire would lick the puncture wounds on their victims’ necks so they would close, leaving no trace of their presence. It didn’t work on us. Every other type of wound healed in seconds, minutes for the larger ones, and a day or so for bones, but not vampire bites. There was something in a vampire’s saliva that decreased our ability to heal. My body had already repaired itself from most of the blood loss I’d suffered. So when Ray’s lips brushed against my neck there was nothing but pleasure on my part. His actions reminded me of a cat lapping up milk. Gentle, precise movements, nuzzling almost.
 

“Why aren’t they healing?” Ray asked, brushing his fingers over my neck.

“They’ll be gone by morning.”
 

“Thank you.”

“You never need to thank me, but I think we should talk . . .” He averted his eyes. “It’s nothing bad, Ray. I wanted to ask you how you plan on feeding in the future.”

“I . . . I hadn’t thought about it.”
 

“Would you consider using me?”

“Every week?” he asked. “Twice a week I need to feed, Serenity, sometimes more. I can’t ask that of you.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.”

He was understandably reluctant in accepting my offer. It all came back to the same thing: he didn’t want to hurt me. Such a stupid notion. Even if he’d been thirsty enough to drain the life from me, he couldn’t harm me. I’d simply be unconscious for a short time until I could repair myself.
 

“Let’s go eat.”

Dinner was a quiet affair. Jayne kept glaring in my direction, then at Ray and Martin. She’d calmed down considerably, but she was skilled at hiding what she felt. There would be a discussion after dinner, once Lizzy was safely elsewhere and Martin was out of earshot.

After dinner, sensing the tension that was looming between Jayne and me, Martin made his excuses for leaving. He promised to return as soon as he was able, and Lizzy didn’t hesitate in promising she’d visit him as often as she could.
 

Before that could happen, Martin had to shift so he could run home. I offered to take him—anything to avoid the inevitable conflict with Jayne—but he insisted the run would do him good. Lizzy was also anxious to see what he looked like once he’d changed forms.

He jogged off into the trees that surrounded our house so he could shift. I wasn’t sure of the exact distance he’d need to go, but it was far enough we wouldn’t be able to see him. When he returned, he was completely different.
 

She was disappointed she couldn’t see the shift as it happened, but it wasn’t worth her safety. Even if Martin had been able to change forms with her near, there was no way I’d let her close to a Were that was about to shift.
 

His tall, six-feet-odd-inch frame had been completely transformed. In place of his arms and legs were the powerful limbs of a giant black cat. To the human eye, or at a glance, he was jet black with no variation. To my eyes, he was a myriad of colour: dark reds, deep black, and warm and vibrant browns. His thick fur rippled over strong muscles and limbs. I’d seen the Wolves up close. I’d witnessed the changing of a Bear or two, and a Lion from a distance. Never before had I seen a Cat.