The Light Keeper

by Gabriella Lepore

  See, I’d had a family once, back when I was a kid. And even after I’d been recruited, I’d had Flip and Billy. Okay, so we weren’t bound by blood, but when three kids are plucked from their lives and drafted into the demon hunting business, you don’t need blood to bond you. Flip was like me, wild and up for anything. And Billy, well, he had a heart of gold. We were like brothers from the get-go. No, scratch that, we were closer than brothers, we were Us.

  But alas, as was the way of the business, the three of Us eventually because two of Us, and two of Us soon became…Me. So I knew how it felt to lose your friends, your family, your life, but I’d been alone, Me, for the past five years and it suited me just fine.

  Like I said, numb.

  Anyway, I did my best to keep things upbeat for the witch. I glanced at her now, sitting in the passenger seat, fiddling with the charm on her bracelet and not looking at me. I wanted to talk to her, but I wasn’t sure what she wanted to hear.

  I cleared my throat. “You okay over there, Witch?”

  She made a noise that sounded like Yes.

  I didn’t buy it.

  “Is there anything you want to ask me?” I pressed.

  She shrugged.

  I’d finally reduced her to silence. That should have been a good thing. So how come I felt so bad?

  Thunder rumbled in the night sky, as if it were responding to my thoughts.

  It’d been a while since I’d driven through such a violent storm. In fact, the last time I’d been caught in weather this bad was the night I’d first learned about the existence of Elana Chambers.

  I’d been heading south, leaving the Hidden Mountains after a track-and-kill job I’d done on a couple of vampires. There’d been whispers of people going missing—too many people, even for these parts—and I’d been sent to check it out. I’d found the culprits, over on the eastern mountain. They seemed to have formed a colony, which was odd because demons were notoriously selfish and hunted alone. But it was as though they were joining forces, building an army or something. I don’t know, maybe they’d sensed that the Light Keeper was diminishing. Maybe they’d had an inkling that the defences around the mountain would be weakened, they’d foreseen an opening, a chance to break free, and they were preparing to come out strong.

  The idea still sent a chill over my skin.

  Anyway, I’d followed orders and tracked them down, trailing them individually as they’d stalked their prey. They’d mostly been targeting young women, feeding off them and leaving them for dead. It had made me sick. I showed no mercy, slaying them all—every last one of them. I’d struck silently, ruthlessly, and none of them had seen me coming. I was a Shadow.

  After I’d completed the job, the drive back to base had been intense. I was wired and restless. I’d done what I’d been sent to do, yes, but something had shifted. I got the feeling it wasn’t over yet. Something big was brewing, although back then I hadn’t known what. Change was afoot, that was for sure, and I hadn’t been the only one who’d felt it. If they were building armies, they would be hard to restrain. Good, I’d thought, aggressively. Bring it on. The sheer thrill of the challenge made me eager. My adrenaline rushed at the promise of a massacre. I was hungry for it.

  And that’s when my phone had rung.

  Speeding along the waterlogged roads, I set it to speaker and waited for the next instructions.

  A deep voice spoke over the line. “Clean?”

  “Done. There’ll be no retribution. There’s none left.” I knew I was good, and I was arrogant with it. I awaited my next task, licking my lips in anticipation as the downpour assaulted the windscreen.

  “I have your next mission, effective immediately.”

  The sooner the better, I thought. I’d shown them countless times what I was capable of, and I wanted more.

  “We have word,” my superior continued, “that there is to be a new Light Keeper.” It was as I’d assumed—the soulless ones had sensed a weakness. “The next witch in the bloodline has been chosen. You will find the individual and deposit her on the High Peak.”

  I fell silent. Was that it? Something so menial was utterly beneath me. Grunt work.

  Babysitting. But I could pass a couple of days doing this until something better came along. “Where will I find the target?” I asked, trying to mask how bored the idea made me.

  “Ashwood Hollow.”

  “And the name?”

  “Unknown.”

  That’s when my stomach began to lurch. I pressed my knuckles to my mouth. I knew where this was going—and it was in the opposite direction of action.

  “You’re to observe people,” he went on, “until you find the new Light Keeper.”

  No, no, no.

  “Use your experience to hunt down the Chosen One. Stay in contact and we’ll advise you further once you’ve located your charge.”

  “But, Rufus,” I groaned, abandoning the formalities, “this could take months! Searching a whole town for the one? It’s—” I broke off in frustration. It’s time consuming, tedious, mind numbing, torturous... “It’s a waste of my skills.”

  “This is your appointed task.”

  I couldn’t have thought of anything worse. I wasn’t trained in passive operations. I excelled at combat, and they knew that. I was the best they had.

  I almost refused.

  But a voice inside my head had intervened. Do it. My grip on the steering wheel tightened.

  Do it, the voice came again, more assertively this time. It made me wince.

  “The mission has been approved by your superiors,” Rufus concluded. “Your new assignment begins now.”

  “Fine.”

  “I’ll be in contact soon.”

  And the line went dead.

  Dejected but compliant, I followed orders—not because I wanted to, but because I didn’t know how not to.

  So I went to Ashwood Hollow and searched for days, then for weeks and months. And finally, eventually, I found her. Elana.

  She hadn’t been what I’d expected, and yet I’d known her at once. I saw it in her mannerisms, in the distinct glint in her honey-colored eyes, in the way the breeze shifted ever so slightly when she was near. And when I heard her voice, I felt it tremor through my very being.

  Strangely, the memory of the first time I spotted her seemed to be branded into my mind, shifting something inside of me. Although, based on the way she’d reacted to me outside the dance, it was clear she didn’t hold the encounter in quite the same regard. It was as though she didn’t remember it at all, but in fact, our first meeting had happened some weeks before the dance. For all the searching I’d done, our paths crossing was purely fortuitous. I recognized her at once, though. Her identity hit me like a shot, clean between the eyes. The practiced art of being incognito, being a shadow, went out the window as I sucked in my breath and gave a double-take. In my defense, it was hard not to react. I’d never seen anything like her before. She was a light, gliding along the quiet paved street, her hair stirring in the breeze, and a sweet scent lingering in the air around her.

  “Excuse me,” I said to her.

  She glanced up at me. “Yes?”

  My heart pounded at the sound of her voice. “Can you tell me how to get to Robinson Street?”

  “Sure.” She gestured along the road. “Take the third left onto Gray Street, then keep walking past the community hall and…”

  She was talking, and I was nodding along with her, but her words were jumbling in my brain. It’s her, was all I could think. I’ve found her. I felt dizzy simply by being in her presence.

  Yes, there’d been no doubt in my mind.

  She was the One.

  “I’m tired,” Elana said now, breaking through my reverie. The sudden intrusion of her voice startled me back to the present with a jolt.

  I cleared my throat, gathering myself. “It’s night time,” I replied. “Go to sleep.”

  She wriggled in her seat. “I’m uncomfortable.”

  “
You complain too much.”

  “Well, I have a lot to complain about.”

  I switched the stereo on, ready to drown out any more complaint-worthy issues.

  She turned it down a notch.

  I’d swear she only did that to wind me up. And it always worked.

  I glanced through the darkness at the clock on the dashboard. 1:01. Still a few more hours until we’d reach the bridge adjoining the High Peak.

  “It’s hot in here, isn’t it?”

  “Huh?”

  “It’s hot.” She touched her brow with her fingertips.

  Hot? I glanced at the heater; it was off.

  Elana rolled down her window and stuck her head outside, letting the rainstorm sweep through her dark hair.

  “Are you trying to catch pneumonia?”

  “It’s refreshing,” she said above the howling wind. “It’s too hot in this car.”

  I frowned. It wasn’t hot. Not at all.

  “Get your head back inside,” I said. “I’ll put the A.C. on.”

  She fell back into her seat and wound the window up. Despite my disinclination to the blast of cold air, I cranked up the air conditioning. She leaned forward and rested her cheek on the vent, sighing contentedly.

  Peculiar.

  I returned my focus to the road. Bend, turn, weave…

  A streak of lightning lit the sky, followed almost immediately by a rumble of thunder.

  Corner, turn, swerve…Brake!

  Before my eyes, something huge fell from the mountain wall, blocking our path. I slammed on my brakes and swung the steering wheel, bracing myself as we swerved across the narrow road.

  The car skidded and there was a shattering sound as the passenger side window smashed and glass fragments showered over us. One hand locked on the steering wheel and the other pulled Elana closer, shielding her face as more shards exploded into the car. She clung to me as we screeched to a stop.

  For several seconds, neither of us spoke. We held our breath, not daring to move. I kept her close, catching the cherry scent of her hair and wondering if I should break the silence. Then, after a bated pause, Elana peeled herself away from me.

  “Are you okay?” she whispered.

  “Uh huh.” I found her eyes in the moonlight. “You?”

  She nodded. “What happened?”

  I stared out the cracked windscreen to where my headlights created two tunnels of misted beams on the road, spotlighting the blur of raindrops. Ahead, a fallen redwood blocked our path.

  “Damn!” I shouted, pounding my fist on the steering wheel. I looked at the passenger side window, shattered by the impact of a protruding branch, and had my second wave of aggravation. “Stay here.”

  Elana looked on as I left the car to survey the damage. It wasn’t too bad; a dent in the hood, one busted window, and a cracked windshield. It could have been worse. The uprooted tree in our path was the biggest problem.

  I’d have to move it.

  I crossed the road to the fallen tree. It was huge—maybe seven feet wide. Its branches were suspended over the mountain while its roots clung to the ground they’d sprouted from. It was split right down the middle of its trunk—a victim of the storm.

  I positioned myself at the roots and pushed against the trunk. Rain bucketed over me and my hands began to lose their grip on the slimy bark.

  The tree wasn’t budging.

  Back in the El Camino, the headlights started flashing on and off. I was spotlighted, then plunged into darkness, then spotlighted, then plunged into darkness. I could just make out Elana, in the driver’s seat now, amusing herself while I poured blood, sweat, and tears into moving the tree.

  She flashed the lights at me again.

  I shielded my eyes from the beam. “That’s not helping!” I shouted.

  She did it again.

  I kicked the tree trunk, doing more harm to myself than to it, and retreated in shame back to the car. I jostled Elana from the driver’s seat and returned to my place in front of the wheel, shaking the excess water from my hair.

  “The road is still blocked,” she pointed out helpfully.

  I looked at her, sullen. “Yes. You’re going to have to do a spell or something.”

  A gust of wind streamed in through Elana’s broken window. She shivered. “Yeah, right.”

  “Why not, Witch? Be useful for once. Move the tree.”

  She laughed humorlessly. “How do you expect me to do that?”

  I waved my hand. “I don’t know. Chant. Rhyme. Sing a song, for all I care—just move it.”

  She folded her arms.

  “Have it your way.” I revved the engine and reversed into a nook in the mountain. “We’ll just have to wait here until you change your mind.”

  Her jaw dropped. “I’m getting soaked over here!” she cried, thumbing towards the vacant space where the passenger window had once been.

  I stared pointedly at her. “I know.”

  She sighed. “Move, tree,” she commanded half-heartedly.

  It didn’t move.

  We both sighed.

  Elana slumped in her seat. “Isn’t there another route we can take?”

  “No. This is the only road along this mountain.” I pressed my lips together, my focus straying to the dark road. “There is another route to the High Peak,” I found myself saying, “but it’s on another mountain. And this is the mountain I want to take.”

  “Why can’t we take the other one?”

  “Because we’ll lose too much time if we turn back. And the other route can be…” I glanced at her, “well, it’s a little more hostile.”

  “We can’t afford to be picky.” She tapped her index finger to her mouth. “There’s a tree in this road.”

  “Right. And we’re going to move it.”

  “I don’t think we will,” she replied.

  Another blast of wind rocked through the car and brought a spray of rain onto the leather seats.

  I winced. “No,” I groaned, reaching across to protect the leather. “I’ve just had these reupholstered.”

  “Oh, poor you.”

  I grimaced. “Just do something, would you?”

  She threw up her arms. “I can’t.”

  “You can,” I insisted.

  She pressed her lips together tightly and shook her head.

  “We’re not turning back,” I said. “It’s taken us long enough to get this far. We’re so close.”

  “So we just sit here for the rest of our lives?”

  “Not for the rest of our lives. Just until you’re ready to cooperate.” I cut the engine and reclined in my seat. “I have a feeling it won’t take long.”

  Elana scowled at me. “For your information, your evilness had backfired, because I don’t care about getting rained on,” she said, offering her hand to the broken window. “It’s too hot in this car, anyway.” She stripped off my jacket, which she’d been wearing since Fallows Edge, and flung it into the back. “I can’t even think about cooperating in this heat.”

  I frowned at her. The temperature outside was nearly freezing and we were minus a window during a full-blown storm. She wasn’t hot—she was being deliberately difficult.

  For a while she shuffled and fidgeted, trying to get comfortable. She shivered again, closed her eyes, and then she went still. Very still. I watched her.

  “Nice try,” I rolled my eyes even though she couldn’t see. “Pretending to be asleep.”

  She didn’t respond. Was it normal to be that still? I wasn’t sure.

  I cleared my throat. “Witch?”

  She didn’t stir.

  I coughed again, louder this time.

  Nothing.

  “Witch?”

  Still nothing.

  Maybe she really was asleep? I assumed she was breathing, though it was shallow enough to go unnoticed. I tentatively reached out and touched my fingers to her throat. There was a pulse. But I felt a stab of fear when I realized how weak it was.

  I skimme
d my fingers across her forehead. She hadn’t been exaggerating—she was burning up.

  I sat upright. Elana’s face suddenly took on a hollow look to my eyes, and now that I was aware of it I could feel the heat percolating off her.

  No matter how much I tried to disturb her—prodding her shoulder, tapping her nose—she wouldn’t wake up. I looked to the open space where the windowpane had been and watched the rain spill in and dampen her in a constant flow.

  I retrieved my jacket from the back seat and swathed it over her, pulling it right up to her chin.

  Then I had a thought.

  My mouth went dry.

  I carefully peeled back the material covering her shoulder and inspected the area where the motel keeper had left his mark. I examined it, touching it gently. The bite was raised and swollen, but it seemed to be healing. I couldn’t be sure, though. All I knew was that something wasn’t right.

  Suddenly I felt sick—but in an entirely different way.

  Now, I wouldn’t describe myself as callous, but let’s just say that it takes a lot for me to worry about anyone other than myself. And even worrying about myself was rare. Yet there I was, worrying about a witch. Things must have been bad.

  I checked Elana’s pulse again. It was so weak that I could scarcely find it. And I was sure she was hotter than any human should be. I had to get help.

  I glanced at the clock on my phone. 1:46. At this point, we were only a couple of hours’ drive away from the High Peak. If we stayed on this road—without the redwood blocking our path, that is—we’d be there by sunrise. If we backtracked, we’d lose the hours we’d already traveled and add to them with our rerouting.

  Resigned, I turned the keys in the ignition, cranked up the heat and sped off down the mountain at double the speed I’d been driving while Elana was awake. Shadowy trees blurred around me. One wrong move and we’d be propelled straight off the mountain, but adrenaline kept my reflexes sharp. I sensed every turn, every bend, every inch of road ahead of me. I was on a mission.

  And for the first time ever, it was a mission that hadn’t been assigned to me—I’d appointed it to myself. I didn’t call it in, I didn’t wait for confirmation. I did exactly what I’d trained for ten years not to do: I followed my heart.