The Vampire Keeper (25 page)

Theron slung the car to a screeching halt at the border of the woods, where he forcefully grabbed Jezalyn’s wrist and drug her through trees for about a mile. Stopping only when they reached his vessel, Theron smirked as he heard Larkin crashing through the foliage in pursuit of them. Theron clinched his grip tighter around Jezalyn’s neck as Larkin jumped from a makeshift dock onto the deck of Theron’s barge that he cleverly hid on the bank of the Mississippi just five minutes from Waterproof, Louisiana. Jezalyn stood motionless, scared his grip would tighten further, trying to comprehend the image that stood before her. She had thought Theron to be lying about his name whether he had misinformed her in the beginning or now, but she never considered that Theron was not Larkin. Jezalyn soon came to the notion that
they must be twins
. She felt at ease as she contemplated and concluded,
this man must be the vampire and not Larkin
; however, that hope flickered away, when she witnessed Larkin demand her release all the while brandishing his fangs at her captor.

“Ah—brother, so nice of you to grant me an audience once again,” said Theron sporting a malicious grin.

“Well, I like to indulge,” replied Larkin as Wyler snuck up behind Theron positioning himself behind a large barrel. Unfortunately, Wyler’s presence had not gone unnoticed, and Theron demand for him to reveal himself.

As Wyler moved into sight, Theron showed his dominance. With his right hand, Theron grabbed Jezalyn around the waist; with his other, he tightly gripped her hair. Her arms and legs thrashed about when he first subdued her, but his harsh hold became more forceful with every flail. Soon she was unable to struggle against the unbearable pain. Jezalyn quickly resigned to the reality that his hold was too tight for her to wiggle free toward Wyler. Her head throbbed from the tight hold that he had on her, so she tried to keep her head as still as possible in the blind hope that he would loosen if not release his grip.

Larkin had attempted to move closer at the sight of seeing Jezalyn squirming and writhing in pain as her arms and legs flailed about, but both Wyler and Larkin froze as Theron announced her immediate death if anyone took another step. He abruptly cocked Jezalyn’s neck to the side and sunk his teeth into her to prove he was capable. The horror of Theron feeding on Jezalyn was too much for Ana, and she sprung out of her hiding place and rushed toward him with a knife. Her response was not quick enough to take the vampire by surprise, and he released his grip on Jezalyn’s head, blocked the blow, and captured Ana. Theron held them tightly around the waist, squeezing them tighter with the slightest muscle movement the way an anaconda would crush the life out of its pray.

Wyler fell to his knees and pleaded for Theron to release Ana, but his pleas fell upon deaf ears.

“Let’s play a game shall we?” said Theron pleased with his allotment.

“Enough! Release the girls; they have nothing to do with our quarrel,” replied Larkin.

He gave a queer smirk at this response and said, “Alright, but I think a parting gift is in order—”

“No! Let us go!” screamed Ana. She knew that someone would no doubt lose their life before he would release them. Ana knew she could not sit idly by and let Jezalyn’s light be extinguished at such a young age, so she hesitated only a second before she added, “I’ll be your prize if one is necessary.”

Theron’s grip on Jezalyn tightened and she found it too grueling to breathe, much less respond to Ana’s sacrificing gesture to save her. Although Jezalyn could only inhale sharp gulps of air, it was not the only reason she could not bring herself to thwart Ana’s attempt to surrender to the vampire. She hung her head and watched the blood that rolled to the front of her throat, drip to the ground in front of her. She almost felt ashamed that her self-preservation instincts kept her silent. Jezalyn felt some relief when Theron loosened his grip, allowing her to intake larger breaths of air so that he could glance around the hull of the ship.

“Julius, what a miraculous turn of events. You look nothing like the shattered vessel I had last seen doing his best to rip Ana from my clutches. Do you think you will succeed this time?” asked Theron with a patronizing smile.

“Wood Avens, what a lovely herb,” said Julius as he licked his lips ignoring the challenge; he was never the one to be provoked into blind rage when generally it was he who did the provoking.

“Brother, how clever of you to have an abundant stash,” said Theron as he remembered raiding Larkin’s herb supplies.

“One can never be too careful with the Hunter about,” replied Larkin.

“Luther! I thought I dealt with him long ago. No need to hash that up now; I will take care of him and his patsy once I dispense with you.” Glancing at the girls, Theron announced, “Now back to business. Which one shall I liberate from this cruel world?” He waited several moments for a response before he continued, “One must die; brother, you choose?”

Although Theron directed his question toward Larkin, Julius responded, “Kill them both; either way, you are mine.”

“No! Take me,” screamed Wyler. He frantically ran his fingers roughly through his hair as he shot a pleading stare at Theron.

“Oh, how self-sacrificing,” was the only response Theron gave as he spoke over Wyler’s exclamation. He thought nothing of the pain he saw in Wyler’s face, and he continued, “Looks like a tie, two for two.”

“So which will it be: this human toy, or your loyal companion’s lover?”

Wyler glared at Larkin with a sincere plea, but Larkin showed no emotion, and he immediately feared the worst. He knew Larkin’s infatuation with Jezalyn was strong, but he was praying his devotion to himself, Larkin’s faithful servant and Keeper, was stronger.

After a few moments passed, Larkin responded with confident vigor, “Neither! You will release both of them or I will rip—”

Theron did not let him finish his threat. In one swift motion, he released Jezalyn, snapped Ana’s neck, and flung her to the side like a rag doll. He quickly re-seized Jezalyn before she had the chance to flee. The only thing Jezalyn comprehended during that episode was the piercing pain she felt in her neck when Theron re-punctured her throat. Jezalyn did not even realize Theron’s first attack was on Ana and not on herself.

“No!” screeched Wyler as he ran toward his wife’s lifeless body that lay strewn across the deck of the barge.

As Wyler bellowed at the loss of his wife, Larkin felt his pain. It was a powerful ache that struck his chest before radiating through his body with such an effect that he almost plummeted to his knees. Larkin had never realized the depth of Wyler’s love for Ana until that moment. Wyler’s pain was familiar to him, for it was similar to the agony of losing his beloved Isadora. Larkin did his best to push the emotional intensity that was thrust upon him to the back of his mind, since the circumstances had gone from dire to aghast. Ana was dead, and Jezalyn’s life would soon slip away. Theron continued to drain her until an arrow clipped him in the back as Larkin and Julius flew upon him. Theron dropped Jezalyn in defense of their collaborated attack.

Jezalyn, too weak to move, was left crouched in the fetal position to watch as the fight ensued around her. Julius and Larkin took turns punching at Theron, but he deflected most of the blows. Jezalyn covered her face praying not be trampled beneath their feet as they stomped around her trying to box Theron in so that he would have no choice but to surrender. However, surrendering was not an option for him. Theron was considerably quicker than Julius, considering he had nearly four hundred years on him, making it difficult to trap him. Although Theron was able to escape the cleaver moves of his opponents, he was not quite prepared for the wrath of a grieving husband. Wyler, in a fit of rage over the death of his wife, ran up behind Theron and kicked the arrow burying it deeper into Theron’s back. Wyler landed on his hip while Julius and Larkin jumped back as the arrow punctured through to the front of Theron’s chest. He let out a sinister growl as he fell to his knees clutching the arrow; it had barbs around the rod similar to the last one bearing the same deadly poison that had already attempted to take his life once.

Larkin grabbed his brother, being careful not to grasp the prickly arrow, and hurled him across the barge. Theron landed against the cold steel wall, and Larkin’s face was emotionless as he sauntered up to him, bent down, and buried his fist into his brother’s chest. His hand lingered for a moment before he pulled it out empty, “I cannot kill my own brother.”

Julius pushed Larkin to the side, bent down and pushed his fist deep into the open chest cavity. “It’s okay—I can,” he said as he dug around for Theron’s heart.

Theron pleaded for his brother’s help. “Brother, if you let him kill me, Isadora and Ana will suffer a harsher punishment.”

“Isadora? Isadora is dead, and thanks to you so is Ana,” blasted Larkin angrily.

“No, she is still alive. She imprisoned herself, refusing to live a life without you. If he kills me, you will never find her and both will rot for all eternity.”

“I care not,” replied Julius, and he pulled the organ from Theron’s chest.

“No!” screamed Wyler, who overheard Theron’s proclamation to save his wife as Theron’s accomplice, Maurice, was escorted at arrow point onto the barge. A hunter held him captive.

Julius showed no interest in their presence and held the heart high above his face letting the blood drip around and in his mouth. Wyler, who had landed only a few feet from Jezalyn, froze with a terror stricken face as his last opportunity to save his wife laid heartless against the edge of the barge. His gaze broke, when he heard Jezalyn faintly crying out, “Help! Wyler … Help me! … Please, anybody.”

Wyler checked her pulse and called out to Larkin, who had not flinched since hearing the news that Isadora was alive, “Larkin, I don’t think she is going to make it.”

Larkin let the thought of his old love wither as he ran to the aid of his current. Upon reaching her, Larkin scooped her up in his arms and pressed his hand against her chest. The beat was not faint enough to turn her, but faint enough for her to go into cardiac arrest. Without any contemplation, he pulled her injured neck close to his lips and extracted enough blood for him to turn her.

“Drink,” said Larkin as he punctured his own wrist with his fangs. Jezalyn refused to drink his blood and tried to push him away, but she was only strong enough to thrust his wrist backwards. Larkin thinking not of the consequences threatened, “If you don’t willingly take it, I will be forced to make you.” Julius watched as Jezalyn denied his arm once again.

“You can’t force her, or she will hate you forever,” Julius cried out. Without waiting for a response, Julius bent down and placed Theron’s heart in his right hand and lightly whispered, “Whose brokenhearted now!”

“I can’t lose her again,” retorted Larkin.

“She’s not Isadora,” whimpered Wyler as he stroked and cradled his dead wife’s head.

“Snap out of it,” yelled Julius.

“I’d rather her live then love me,” was his only retort. Ignoring Julius’s caution, Larkin lifted her head to press it to his wrist. Then suddenly, an arrow caught him in the chest forcing him to release her. Jezalyn’s head fell against the metal flooring when Larkin gripped the barbed arrow. “A hunter’s signature,” mumbled Larkin, and his eyes fixated on the little black tentacles wrapped around the sharp hooks.

“Luther,” he growled in an ominous tone over the babbling Jezalyn, who mumbled the word grandpa. He controlled his anger and picked Jezalyn’s head up once again to finish his desperate act of saving her even if he would soon die himself.

“Don’t do it, Larkin,” said an old familiar voice that he had not heard in a century. Larkin turned to find himself confronted by the Hunter. Larkin did not have to ponder his challenger’s physical appearance, his aged features and snow-white hair with silvery tones, to conclude who stood before him. Larkin knew by his stature and the way he held his bow drawn upon him that it was Luther.

“Luther, it’s been ages,” said Larkin still cradling Jezalyn’s head in his lap.

“It has,” said Luther nonchalantly, before forcefully demanding, without letting his voice rise, “Give me the girl.”

“I can’t,” replied Larkin. “I have to save her.”

“You did well with your brother today, but let me take over here.”

“No! I won’t risk it. Besides, you owe me, old man.”

Julius listened with great interest,
a hunter indebted to a vampire.

“Maybe I do, but she owes you nothing, so you will release her.”

“Don’t give me demands! I saved your life when Theron left you for dead at the shipyard. It is time to cash in a favor, so you are going to walk away and let me save her.”

“You did, and it’s one of the reasons why all of you are still alive.”

“But not for much longer,” replied Larkin as Julius thought,
one, what is the other? How scandalous this is all turning out to be; a vampire saving a hunter and a hunter indebted to a vampire. There has to be a deeper connection!

Luther ordered Falken, the hunter who detained Maurice, to throw a bag of Wood Aven’s to Julius, which in turn broke Julius’s thoughts as he instinctually extended his arm to catch the bag that was hurled toward him. Luther also ordered Falken to release Maurice to Julius for Larkin to deal with in whatever way he saw fit.

“Now hand her over, and don’t worry. I have survived for centuries as a human. I think I can help her safely sustain her human life better than you,” replied Luther.