The Light Keeper
Page 13
At last, Bernard exhaled. “Well, by all means, look around,” he said, gesturing loosely. “I’ve had new stock in since your last visit.”
“It’s not vampire repellent, is it?” Jake checked with a wry smile.
Bernard furrowed his brow. “No. Weaponry.”
Jake threw me a playful smile, and my irritation with him thawed a fraction.
“Weaponry,” he said to Bernard. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.” He ushered me along and we wandered into the darkened depths of the shop.
“Bernard seemed nice,” I whispered once we were out of earshot.
“Yeah. Not everyone in Whitestone Point is a demon.”
“From what you told me, I expected the eastern mountain to be some sort of underworld.”
“Well—it is.”
“But only at night?”
“Yes.”
I thought about the scars on Bernard’s face. I wanted to ask Jake more, but I stopped myself.
“Look at these,” he said, pointing to a shelf full of tiny multicolored pendants. “They’re like the one you have on your bracelet.”
I touched the delicate silver links around my wrist. “They’re nice.” I rose to my tiptoes to get a better look at the charms.
He inspected the array of colorful treasures splayed out before us. “I’ve never noticed them in here before.”
I raised an eyebrow. “They take up an entire shelf. How could you not notice them?”
He gave a non-committal shrug. “I never had a reason to notice them before.”
While I lingered where I was, chewing over his remark, Jake moved on, walking further into the shop’s cavernous depths.
I watched curiously as he disappeared along the dimly lit passage. Jake was a puzzle, that was for sure. And I grew more perplexed by the hour.
After a few minutes of ogling the various brass candlesticks and leafing through the dusty tomes, I meandered back to the front of the store.
Bernard had returned to his post behind the counter. He looked up as I approached.
“The charms are all so beautiful,” I said.
His eyes crinkled into a smile. “Yes,” he agreed. “My late wife was the enthusiast. She built up quite the collection before she passed away.”
I was taken aback. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
Bernard bowed his head. “Thank you.” He shifted an assortment of silver objects around the counter, probably trying to distract himself from the saddening thought. “So,” he continued, “you’re not from around here, are you?”
“No. This is my first time in the mountains.”
“Ah, well, I hope you enjoy your visit.” Something in his voice told me that he knew I was doing more than just visiting. “Where are you from?”
“Ashwood Hollow. Have you heard of it?”
No one ever had.
“I’m afraid I’m not too sharp when it comes to geography,” he joked. “I’ve lived here all my life and I don’t tend to stray too far.”
“It seems like a lovely town.” In the daytime.
“It can be,” he accepted. “It has its good moments and its bad. Like everywhere, I suppose.”
No, I thought. Not like everywhere. I wondered why anyone would choose to live in a town infested with demons. It wouldn’t have postcode envy, that’s for sure.
“Do you like living here?” I tried to sound indifferent, but I couldn’t seem to hide the doubt from my voice.
“I do,” Bernard replied earnestly. “I’ve had a lot of happy times here. A lot of happy memories. You know what they say—home is where the heart is.”
I processed the sentiment. Still, it didn’t seem reason enough to coexist alongside demons.
Jake appeared behind me. I felt his presence before I heard him speak.
He reached around me and dropped a slim wooden picket onto the countertop. It looked like a slightly larger version of a pencil; it even had a silver tip running through the center. “I’ll take this,” he said.
Bernard lifted the item and spun it between his fingers. “Good choice,” he murmured. “Crafted from the finest maple and lined with solid silver and rock salt.”
“So I noticed. The universal weapon. All the necessary components crammed into that tidy little package. It should take out just about any demon alive.” He frowned, squinting. “It looks flimsy, though. I don’t know how long it’ll last.”
“Handy to carry around, though,” Bernard pointed out. “The most streamlined stake on the black market.”
“I don’t care about streamlining, or packaging, or glossy finish,” Jake retorted with a smirk. “All I care about is that it does what it says it’s going to do.”
“It will,” Bernard assured cheerfully. “It may not look like it, but there’s enough silver embedded in there to vanquish even the largest werewolf or the most grisly demonic soul.”
Weird, I thought to myself. How can such disturbing words come so blithely from such a gentle looking man? Apparently I hadn’t learned my lesson about judging books by their covers. Jitters and Ethel, to name a few.
“I’ll let you know how it measures up,” said Jake. “I’ll take this, as well.” He opened his fist to reveal and dainty charm glistening in the palm of his hand. It was a tiny silver moon.
My lips parted in disbelief. “Is that for me?”
“Well,” said Jake, suddenly engrossed in examining his new weapon, “I don’t have much use for it, do I.”
Bernard ran his hand over his mouth, concealing a grin.
“Thank you,” I breathed. “I love it.” I extended my hand and Jake stopped inspecting his pencil-shaped purchase just long enough to attach the moon to the link beside my faded old sun charm. His fingers brushed against my wrist as he fumbled with the bracelet, and I felt a surge of electricity shoot along my arm.
“How much?” Jake asked Bernard while I gazed at my beautiful new charm.
“No charge,” said Bernard, holding up his palms.
Jake rolled his eyes and dropped a wad of cash onto the counter.
Bernard tutted. “I don’t want your money, boy—”
“Please,” Jake interrupted. “I insist.”
Bernard sighed.
As the cash register rang, the bell above the door chimed also. I turned in time to see a man walk in. He was swathed in a black trench coat with the collar pulled high around his hollow face.
A shiver ran down my spine.
The atmosphere in the shop immediately changed. Moments ago I had felt comfortable and at ease. Now a glaring tension prickled the air, leaving me cold.
The newcomer eyeballed us but walked straight past, heading into the caverns of the shop.
Jake moved in closer behind me. He draped his arm around my shoulder and leaned in closer to the counter, drawing me in with him.
Bernard began showing us a tray of old coins. I followed Jake’s lead and feigned interest, engaging in idle chit-chat with the shopkeeper. It was clear that Jake and Bernard knew something I didn’t—although it wasn’t hard to figure out that we could be in for trouble.
As the minutes ticked slowly by, Jake urged me to fixate on the coins. I could feel his heart pounding against my back. He was rattled, and so was I.
We stayed that way, all three of us huddled around the coin tray, until the shop door chimed again, signifying that the stranger had left.
I felt Jake exhale against the back of my neck before he straightened up.
I spun around to face him. “What was that about?” I asked in a hushed voice.
Jake and Bernard exchanged a look.
“Shapeshifter,” Jake said. “Did you see the yellow eyes?” He returned his attention to the shopkeeper. “What’s up, Bernard? They’re coming out in daylight now?”
Bernard wrung out his hands. “I’ve seen a few.”
“Since when?” Jake pressed.
“It started a few months ago. At first it was one or two a week. Now it’s one or two a day. Something
’s going on. They’re getting bolder. They want us to run scared, but we won’t.” He slapped his rough hand on the countertop. “This is our home as much as it is theirs.”
“They’re trying their luck because the defensives are weakening,” Jake muttered to himself.
The defensives? I wondered to myself. What are the—
Then I stopped short and sucked in a breath.
The Light Keeper. What was it that Jake had told me—that the old Light Keeper was weakening? Was that what he’d meant by the demons trying their luck? Was that why the demons were out during the day—because the force field was breaking down?
“They’re lying low,” Bernard continued, “but they’re watching. They’re watching everything.”
Jake flinched.
Bernard patted him on the shoulder. “Make sure you’re out by sunset.”
“I’ll come back when I have more time,” Jake told him. “I’ll stay for a few days. Things will be better soon, Bernard, and then I’ll be back.”
Bernard summoned a tight smile. “Take care, son. Be safe.”
Jake slipped his new purchase into his jacket pocket. “You, too.”
Then, with his hand guiding the small of my back, Jake led me towards the door. Bernard waved goodbye and the shop bell chimed above our heads, marking our exit.
Back on the main street everything seemed ordinary again. Pedestrians strolled by, minding their own business. The damp air swirled around me and fog fluttered through my hair.
We continued along the cobbled road, saying nothing.
I glanced at Jake. I had so many questions; I didn’t know where to begin.
“What happened to Bernard’s wife?” I asked at last.
His expression grew subdued. “She died.“ His voice was controlled, emotionless. “A few years ago.”
I stared at my feet as we walked. “How did it happen?”
“I don’t know. It’s not the sort of thing you can ask a guy.” He turned to me, trying to catch my gaze. “I think it was a parasite, though. That’s what I heard.”
“A parasite? Did she catch a bug on vacation or something?”
“No, a parasite demon. They feed off a life force until there’s nothing left. They’re brutal things. Once the victim’s been infected there’s no cure.” Jake spoke with a degree of ease now, as though he was anesthetized to it all. Maybe he was. “I heard that Bernard went after it,” he carried on. “Killed it, too, I think. Not that it gave him much comfort.”
My heart rate quickened. “I can’t understand why anyone would want to live here,” I said bluntly, staring out to the distant mountain peaks. “Is it really worth being afraid all the time?” I lowered my voice. “Is it worth dying for?”
Jake gave me a rueful sigh. “I don’t think they see it like that. To them, it’s home. It’s all they know.”
“But they could find a new home. A safer place where they wouldn’t have to be scared to leave their houses after dark.”
“It doesn’t work like that. Home is home. You adapt.”
I thought about my own home, back in Ashwood Hollow, and how I’d grown apart from my childhood friends because I couldn’t adapt. If I’d had trouble adapting in a small, easy going town like Ashwood Hollow, then how could I ever hope to adapt on the High Peak?
It seemed impossible.
“Could you adapt to living like this?” I asked Jake.
He frowned, then laughed. “I adapted well enough to live like this,” he said, pointing to himself, fingers pressed to his chest.
Of course, to me, Jake was just Jake. I’d forgotten that he was part of something beyond our newly formed duo, with a history and a past. He was part of some supernatural war where they knew him only as Shadow. Whoever they were.
“So this,” I began, “what you do—how long have you been doing it, exactly?”
“More than half my life. I was eight when they drafted me, and I’m eighteen now—”
“Eight?” I choked, cutting him off. “You were eight years old when you started fighting demons?”
“Not exactly.” He stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets. “I was eight years old when they started training me to fight demons. I didn’t start actually fighting them until I was…” he lingered on the final word, thinking. “Eleven.”
“Eleven! That’s not much better!” I tried to catch his gaze. “What about your parents?”
He stared vacantly along the quaint cobblestone street, trancelike as he became lost in his memories.
“My mom died not long after I was born,” he finally said, carefully avoiding my gaze as we walked. “And my dad…” He paused. “You have to understand, that who I am—who we all are—it’s in our DNA. I was born to do this. I was born to be good at this. My father… Well, my father took a long time to come around.”
I bristled as a winter breeze disturbed my hair.
“He tried to stop it,” Jake continued. “He tried to stop them from taking me. But eventually he came to terms with it. He understood that there was a higher purpose. There was somewhere else I needed to be.”
“So your dad just sat back and let them take you?”
Jake furrowed his brow. “It wasn’t like that. My dad didn’t have a choice. It was going to happen, with or without his blessing. This is my destiny.” His voice softened. “And I’m okay with that. Really, I am.”
As honest as his words sounded, in my heart I couldn’t truly believe them. Something in his eyes told a different story.
“You must have been scared,” I said quietly.
“I was,” he admitted. “At first. Then it became…I don’t know…natural to me. I was good at it. Better than good—and better than they’d anticipated. I liked that. I knew then that this was mine. This was meant for me.”
I wrapped my arms around myself, shielding myself from the chill. “So, that was it? At eight years old you accepted your new life and let them turn you into a demon-killing machine?”
“Yes.”
“You were just a kid,” I murmured, “alone in a violent, demonic world—”
“I wasn’t alone,” he cut me off. “I had seniors. I even had a mentor. And I wasn’t the only one drafted in for training. Flip and Billy were there, too.” His shoulders stiffened.
“Flip and Billy?”
“Yeah,” he went on, looking down at the pavement. “There were three of us to start with. We were like brothers, and we were going to be lifers. It was good back then,” he spoke now with a fond smile. “It was fun, y’know? Of course, they only lasted a couple of years…”
“They quit?” I asked.
He shook his head.
What did that mean? I shuddered, but couldn’t bring myself to ask. However, as it happened, I didn’t need to.
“They died,” Jake answered my unspoken question.
“Oh,” I managed.
Jake cast his gaze back down to the cobbled road beneath our feet. “Yeah.”
“That must have been tough.”
“It hurt. A lot.”
I noticed a subtle movement as his hands balled into fists. My heart broke for him. “Jake, I–”
“But then I got stronger,” he carried on. “I was ready to work alone. It suited me.”
I sensed he’d told himself that so many times that even he was starting to believe it. “What about your dad? Did you see him again?”
“I spoke to him a couple of times during the first year, and then…” he trailed off. “Part of the job required us to sever our ties with the outside world. There’s no place for outsiders in this line of work.”
I stared at him. “You didn’t hear from him again?”
He shrugged. “He’s still around. Somewhere. My superiors keep a thread of contact. My dad knows I’m alright. I know he’s alright. That’s enough.”
“I’m sorry, Jake, but I can’t understand that. I don’t think I ever will.”
He smiled up at the silvery sky. “It took me a while to get here
. And it might take you a while, too. But you will.”
I laughed at the idea. “I won’t.”
“Trust me, when you see the good you do, it makes it all worthwhile. It all makes sense.”
“You gave up your own life to protect others?” It was more a realization than a question.
“I suppose I gave up the cushier version of my life. But the way I see it, this is my real life. And I wouldn’t swap it.”
We fell silent while I contemplated his words. I hadn’t expected to find such selflessness in him. I remembered the cold kidnapper I thought he was, and realized with a start that I had completely and entirely misjudged him. The person that I walked beside right then was not the person who I’d unequivocally loathed just days earlier.
My stomached fluttered at that awareness.
Uh oh, I thought, swallowing hard. That can’t be good.
JAKE
Chapter Ten
Dark Alleys and False Allies
I swiped the last slice of pizza from Elana’s plate.
“Hey! I was going to eat that!”
I crammed it into my mouth quickly. “Sorry.”
She moved to kick me under the table, but I preempted the assault and swung my legs out of the way.
“You’re evil.”
I savored the final mouthful of pizza and closed my eyes. “I know.”
She kicked me.
I grinned, then leaned back in my seat and stretched my arms above my head. Sal’s Pizzeria was undoubtedly the best restaurant within a fifty-mile radius. I’d been there a couple of times before, so I knew it was safe. It was small and private, and the food was on point.
This was the first time I’d eaten since my bloodlust that morning; my palate was still sensitive, and only the best would curb my hunger. It was strange, though. Long after the elixir had worn off, the feelings of wanting remained.
I shook the thought aside.
“It must be almost three o’clock,” I said.
Elana craned her neck, trying to glimpse the restaurant clock from our table. “Oh, crap! It’s a quarter to four!”
So it was later than I’d expected. Still, it wouldn’t take us long to get back to the garage. Yeah, we’d be a little late, but the sun wouldn’t set until five at the earliest.