Wild Keepers

by Dee Bridgnorth

  Evan grinned. “Do I ever. We are due for a victory. Meet you there after work?”

  Shay nodded. “It’s a date.”

  Noah, the new guy, had taken off his headphones. “When will I get my first case, Thad?”

  “I’ve got something lined up,” Thad answered. “But not for a while. I’m thinking you should shadow one of the others first, learn the ropes.” He turned to Shay. “How about it? Another new barman at the dive?”

  Shay smiled, staring at Noah. “Sounds good.”

  Evan stared at Noah, who was looking so keen to start working. He remembered what it had been like, when he had first joined the Wild Keepers. Full of passion, raring to go. Now, he was almost at the end of his career with them. Soon, he would have to leave, for good. Where had the time gone? Suddenly, he desperately wished he could turn back the clock.

  His life as he knew it was almost over. He would be leaving the Wild Keepers. And then, he would be leaving this world—forever.

  His heart twisted in his chest. There was so much that he hadn’t accomplished in his life. So much that he hadn’t done, or seen. He had never travelled. He had always wanted to go to India and see the Taj Mahal. He had imagined that when that day would come, he would have the woman that he loved at his side. He would have found her, and they would be living the life he had always wanted after his service with the Wild Keepers was done.

  He closed his eyes, for a second, imagining it. The magnificent building was in front of him. He turned to his side, and there was…Maya.

  He opened his eyes, blinking rapidly. It had felt natural, and right, that she was there beside him. Like it was meant to be.

  Except it wasn’t. He would never get to travel, especially not with Maya by his side. He would leave this case behind, and she would go on, being a dancer. And then, his time on this earth would be over.

  He didn’t know what was making him sadder. The thought of dying…or the thought that he would never see Maya again.

  ***

  He climbed the stairs to the loft, opening his laptop. He needed to do this background work. And it would distract him from the bittersweet vision of Maya by his side, roaming the world with him.

  He researched Maya to start with. She had her own Wikipedia entry, no less. But it was all just dry facts that told him nothing about the woman who lived and breathed inside her name.

  There was nothing out of the ordinary in her background. She had grown up in Covenester, attending a local exclusive school. A star ballet dancer from the start. It outlined the ballet companies she had danced with, ending with the Covenester Ballet Company. He breathed a sigh of relief when there was no mention of spells in mental hospitals or sanitoriums.

  There was a grainy photo of her in an elaborate white and red tutu. She was on the tips of her toes, reaching her arms upwards. He stared at it for a long time, trying to find something in the photo that simply wasn’t there.

  Why had she gotten under his skin so badly? He couldn’t answer the question. Yes, she was beautiful, but then so were a lot of women. The ballerinas at this company were all beautiful. But they were like wooden dolls to him; they simply didn’t fly into his radar.

  No one did, except her.

  He frowned. What was he doing? He had told himself that he would stop this. And now, here he was, mooning over her picture on a computer screen.

  Time to move on.

  He laboriously went through everyone at the company, but there weren’t many red flags. Everyone was obviously who they were meant to be. He smiled when he found that Freddie had been an activist in his youth; he would never have thought the man was capable of chaining himself to trees.

  It was getting late. He had saved the most suspicious one for last. Leonie Adams. He typed in her name and waited for the results to come up.

  Except there was nothing. Or not anything that he might have expected.

  There was no background on her life. No details about where she had grown up or gone to school. What illustrious ballet companies she had danced with. There was nothing.

  It was so glaring as to be blinding. Just about everyone had a social media profile, especially if it aided them in their line of work. For a professional dancer to have nothing—not a photo or a webpage advertising who they were—was odd. Very odd.

  He frowned, searching her social security records. He couldn’t find a birth certificate or anything else about her. She didn’t even have a bank account.

  The woman called Leonie Adams simply didn’t exist. At least, not on paper or in the virtual world.

  He sat back, staring up through the skylight. The woman who claimed her name was Leonie Adams was lying. Who was she then? And why was she hiding her true identity?

  There could be a few reasons, of course. She might genuinely have changed her name because she was trying to remain undetected by someone, or even simply because she didn’t like it. People sometimes had to take on other identities, sometimes through no fault of their own.

  Or she might be assuming an identity because she wasn’t human. She might be a Vilgath demon.

  A cold shiver shuddered through Evan. He couldn’t make assumptions yet, but it might explain a lot. Why she was claiming to be Maya’s friend, yet rubbishing her behind her back and making a play for him? Demons loved to cause havoc; they thrived on it, even when it served no purpose. They did it for the fun of it. Evan had always thought that they fed on chaos.

  It would also explain why his hackles had been raised when she had touched him this afternoon. The wolf was very sensitive to a demon being in the vicinity; it was what the wolf lived for. When he or one of the others transformed into their wolves, they would sniff out demons. It was as if the wolf had an inbuilt antenna for them.

  He frowned. He would have to watch this Leonie very, very closely. Perhaps even encourage her in her little flirtation with him, so that he could draw her out. But how would Maya react to that? She wouldn’t understand in the slightest and just assume that he liked Leonie more than her.

  He sighed, deeply. Yet another reason why it wasn’t good to get involved with anyone while working.

  Next, he researched the history of the Covenester Ballet Company, and the theatre it called home.

  It had been built in the mid-nineteenth century and was one of the oldest buildings in the city. He clicked on old black and white photos of its construction and what it had looked like in its early years. One photo in particular intrigued him. It showed the front of the theatre with carriages and horses parked on the road. Women in long, sweeping gowns and men in black dinner suits milled around, ready for a night at the ballet.

  He pressed print on the photo and a few others. He sometimes found that it was good to study photos on paper. They sometimes revealed more than expected.

  It was clear from the photos that the theatre had once been the epicentre of cultural life in Covenester. Everyone who was anyone went there; it had been the hub of social life in the early years of the city. The theatre itself grew shabbier in the photos as the years progressed; it was as if there had been a decision that it would never be maintained and fade away into obscurity. It was puzzling. He would have thought that a building that was so well loved, and so well used, would have been well maintained.

  And then there were the stories that surrounded it. The ghost stories. Evan smiled to himself. It wasn’t because he didn’t believe them—he always tried to keep an open mind about everything—but because it was almost obligatory. Every old building worth its salt had ghost stories attached to it. And the Covenester Theatre had persistent ones.

  The first was the ghost of the woman who was said to walk the back hallways. Several people had sighted her over the years. Apparently, she always wore a long white gown in the fashion of the previous century and carried a candelabra. The candles would all be lit, and she would trail through the hallways, as if she were searching for something. Or someone.

  The second story was the one that intrigued him more
, though. His senses had been on alert as soon as Maya had mentioned the story of the man with the wolf. She had told him that the man and the wolf were always seen in front of the huge stained-glass window at the top of the theatre stairs, but apparently there had been sightings of them in the theatre itself, as well. Particularly in a theatre box, where they would sit side by side, staring down at the stage.

  Evan sighed again. While it was interesting reading from a historical point of view, he didn’t really see how it helped him. If there had been sightings of demons with grey, leathery skin over the years in the theatre then that would have been a significant start. As it was, they were merely minor ghost stories.

  He sat up, suddenly remembering his first instinct. What if these stories had a basis in fact?

  He accessed the archives of the Covenester Library, looking for anything that had happened in the Covenester Theatre over the years. There was a long list of ballets that had been performed there, and famous dancers that had graced its stage. But there seemed to be nothing unusual, which might justify the stories.

  He was just about to give up when he found it. A newspaper article from the beginning of last century. He zoomed in, scanning it quickly.

  Ist November 1902 – A terrible fire consumed the south wing of the Covenester Theatre late last night. Local fire authorities battled the blaze for over two hours before containing it. Patrons, who were watching a production of “La Bayadere”, were evacuated from the building just before midnight. There has been one casualty. The body of a man was discovered in the burnt-out wreckage early this morning. Local constabulary are working hard to identify the man and inform his next of kin.

  Bingo. A fire. A man who had died in it. He searched the files further. There were a few follow-up articles about it. He narrowed his eyes, reading swiftly.

  Apparently, they had put the cause of the fire down to faulty wiring; ruling out entirely arson or anything else suspicious. The man who had died in it had never been identified. Apparently, he had been burnt so badly that they couldn’t even see his features anymore. Evan sat back, thinking. It would not have been unusual in those days that they couldn’t have identified him from his remains. They had no sophisticated technology; no way to match dental records. The story had slowly faded from the public’s eyes, and the man had been buried in an unmarked grave.

  Evan rubbed his eyes, checking the time. It was late. He should get some sleep. All the background checks, and this research, had taken longer than he expected.

  He was just about to close the computer and call it a night when he spotted another detail in an article about the fire. He sat up, his senses on high alert.

  The fire had started in the costume room. The very room that Maya had found David Wagner and the dressmaker had been discovered.

  He frowned, thinking quickly. They must have rebuilt it; the current costume room would not be the same as the one where the fire had started, all those years ago. Was it located in the same spot though? Had they rebuilt it according to the layout of the original part of the building?

  He swiftly located floor plans of the theatre, prior to the fire, and then after. He felt his pulse quicken. Yes, they had rebuilt it exactly the same. The current costume room was where the previous one had been. They had even built it in the same style.

  Evan raised his eyes, staring unseeing through the skylight to the navy blue sky. A million stars twinkled like diamonds.

  His instinct had been right. There was something significant about that room. He had to get in there and search it, as soon as possible. He should have done it before now.

  ***

  Evan sighed impatiently, watching the dancers rehearsing. He checked his watch quickly. They would be working for another hour, at least. Time for him to slink off and gain access to the costume room. Everything seemed to be fine in here. Maya was working with the others, and besides, there was safety in numbers. He doubted that there would be an incident right now.

  He walked out, trying to remember exactly the way that Maya had taken him that day. It was a little confusing. The theatre was like a rabbit warren in certain places. But eventually he found the right corridor and turned down it. The costume room was on the left.

  He opened the door, stepping in. The room was just as bizarre to him as when he had first seen it. So many costumes jammed onto hangers with barely room to walk between them. And some were hanging from the ceiling, as well. The smell of moth balls and old fabric overpowered him for a moment. The room had a strange energy about it, as well. He could understand completely why Maya had been overcome when she had stumbled in here in the dark.

  He walked through, coming to the spot that Maya had told him that she had discovered the body. He squatted down, gazing around. He didn’t have a clue what he was looking for. Anything unusual that might give him an indication that there was something seriously amiss in this room.

  But he couldn’t find anything. He was just about to give up and explore other parts of it when he saw something. It was small, and it was lodged into the skirting board, barely visible behind the costumes.

  What was it? He frowned, squinting, trying to make it out. His instinct told him not to try to touch it or pick it up.

  It was a small woven object, in the shape of a circle. Evan could see that it was crude; fashioned together from twigs, by the look of it. His hand hovered over it, itching to pick it up and examine it closer, but he knew that he shouldn’t. Whoever had placed it here had done so deliberately. Even if he placed it back in the same spot and position in his own eyes, it might be slightly askew. And he didn’t want to alert anyone that it had been tampered with.

  He got out his phone and leaned over as far as he could without tumbling over. He took a few photos of it in quick succession, the flash illuminating the small area. When he was satisfied that he had enough, he stood up quickly.

  He scrolled though the photos, staring at it. It was woven into a geometric pattern with a symbol at the centre of it. He squinted, trying to make it out.

  It was a Vilgath symbol. He was almost a hundred percent sure of it.

  He felt a growl low in his throat. The wolf was sensing it, too. This object was linked to the demons, and they had deliberately placed it there. But for what purpose?

  Evan frowned. He would have to talk about this with the others, Thad in particular. He was very knowledgeable about Vilgath customs and rituals. He would probably be able to recognise this object and know why it had been placed here.

  He jumped as the door to the room opened, and Sian, the seamstress, walked in. She jumped herself when she saw him standing there with his phone.

  “Hi,” she said uncertainly. “Do you need something? Can I help you?”

  “All good,” he said, brushing past her. “I was just checking the area where the attack took place, that’s all.” He smiled. “Security measures.”

  The woman nodded, and he exited quickly.

  He walked down the corridor, his pace quickening.

  What was the demon—or demons—doing? And why was it centred in that room?

  Chapter Ten

  Maya walked slowly to the dressing room, pulling off her slippers with a sigh. Her feet ached. Actually, everything ached. It had been another long day of rehearsing, and she was still far from mastering the role of Giselle.

  Freddie had become impatient, stopping her at one point. “Maya,” he said, in a clipped voice. “I cannot fault your technical skills. But the character of Giselle is about more than dancing perfectly.” He had sighed. “You have to feel her, Maya. You must become her. She is dizzy in love, and her world comes crashing down when she realises her lover has betrayed her. You must feel that pathos and sorrow. Especially in her dance of death.”

  Maya had nodded, wearily. She was trying. But it had always been the emotional side of the dance that she had difficulties with.

  The other girls, who were playing the vengeful Wilis, had stared at her sympathetically. They understood what a
hard role it was to master.

  Maya sighed. It didn’t help that Freddie wanted this production to be ready so soon. She would have to stay back sometimes if she was going to be ready in time. But the thought of being in that rehearsal room after hours filled her with dread. Soon, but not tonight.

  She changed quickly and grabbed her bag. The theatre was almost empty. She glanced around. Evan was nowhere to be seen. He must have left for the evening, without saying goodbye.

  Her heart sank, just a little. But she didn’t blame him. They had barely exchanged two words today. Why would he bother to tell her he was leaving?

  “Maya.”

  She spun around, breathless. It was him. He hadn’t left for the night, after all. But where had he been? She had noticed that he hadn’t been shadowing her as intensely as usual.

  “Evan.” She nodded, quickly. “I’m just about to leave. You should probably go, too.”

  He stared at her, his blue eyes searching her face. “Maya, we should talk.” He hesitated. “About what happened between us, the other day.”

  Maya reddened. “What is there to talk about? You have made your feelings very clear on the matter.”

  Evan frowned. “Wait a minute. You are the one who has been ignoring me.”

  She stared at him, feeling herself beginning to tremble all over. She tilted her chin. “It seemed best. I don’t want you to feel obligated towards me at all.”

  He reached out a hand, laying it on her arm. “Maya, I’m sorry that you feel that way. To be perfectly honest, what happened was a surprise to me, too. I wasn’t planning it.”

  “Weren’t you?” She glared at him. “Oh, of course not. You’re the type of guy who just seizes his moment, aren’t you? A window of opportunity presents itself and you are all over it. I could have been any girl, couldn’t I?”

  He gasped. “That’s not fair.”

  Suddenly, all her hurt at seeing him with Leonie bubbled to the surface. She couldn’t stand to be near him. She had to get away, now.