The Keeper Set - Summer Spirit Novellas 7 - 9

by Samantha Jacobey

  “When did Destiny and Fate begin their epic battle?” Charlie prodded, cocking his head to one side as he did so.

  “By the end of the second generation, a division among our kind had formed,” Karma sighed. “Keeper had assumed the role of Master, with the twins helping him by each championing a side. I, of course, had been discarded. Left to my own devices, I quickly realized that mankind was not perfect; far from it. Despite what Keeper envisioned, they were in dire need of justice!”

  “And you were all too willing to give it to them,” Charlie chuckled.

  “Why not?” Karma sniffed. “What could be more noble than to be the ambassador of fair play?”

  “Are you stronger than Keeper?” he blurted.

  Her eyes wide, anger filtered across her features before she put her emotions in line. “You are bold to be so cavalier in the presence of greatness,” she clipped.

  Amused, Charlie grinned, “You all think very highly of yourselves, that’s for sure. Look; I’m not arguing that you’re not. What I’m saying is, where is all this going? Are you two really gonna duke it out? Will the Angels win? Will the humans get their planet back? Give me a hint.”

  “A hint,” she chortled, spinning on her heel. “I’ll do more than that. We are going to crush them, Charlie. The Light Angels and the Dark ones. We will raid Keeper’s prison and take what is rightfully ours!”

  “And what about the humans?” he eyed her warily. “What happens to them? Don’t we still need them to propagate?”

  Smiling at him deviously, she agreed, “For now, but it will not always be so. The humans have become Keeper’s pets, but they are devastating this world with their technology and self-absorbed ways. We will return it to a simpler time. Much of their population will be removed and true balance will be restored,” she revealed with a gleam in her eye.

  “You want them to be your servants,” he stated cautiously. “Your slaves.”

  “They are slaves to many things,” she agreed, cutting her eyes over to stare at him out of the corners. “They shall serve me and my house when the time is right. Do you have a problem with that?” She squared her shoulders and faced him head on.

  “No ma’am,” he smiled at his benefactor, happy with the knowledge she had shared with him, at least on the surface. The details of her plan stirred more deeply within him, roiling with emotions he dared not define. “I’m still on your side,” he confessed as he stood, ready to leave. “Do I have an assignment for today?”

  “I’ll have something for you later,” she agreed, showing him the door.

  Search for the Master

  Slowly clomping up the stairs, Charlie considered Karma’s sharing of information. She only did it because she had to. Keeper and John had given him more and forced her hand; she had no choice in the end. Reaching the top, he stared out at the kitchen and dining area, expecting his mate to be waiting. Instead, the room appeared deserted.

  Reaching the wall of glass, he peered out across the sand. Mentally calling out to her, he inquired, “Baby, you had to go?”

  “Yes,” her voice replied, “I’ll be home this evening, I’m sure.”

  Sighing, he ended the connection, considering how he might make use of the morning; at least until Karma dispatched him on his own quest. I know, he grinned to himself. I’ll see if I can locate the man himself. Closing his eyes and dropping his head back, as if to stare at the ceiling above, he listened to the world intently.

  Eventually deciding on a location, he transported himself to the field of stone where he had seen Keeper last. Inhaling deeply, he stared down at his father’s name. Somehow knowing the corpse in the ground before him had not trapped John’s spirit made him grin. “So, tell me, old man; where can I find the leader of your people? We have much to discuss, an’ I fear that time is running out,” he demanded aloud. Recalling his lesson about time being a hunter, his mind wandered over the knowledge that the Angels were not safe in their new home. At some point, their sanctuary would come to an end. A civil war brewed in the shadows for certain, whether it came before or after their being discovered by those they had deceived for so long.

  “Charlie, my son. You’ve learned much as of late,” Father’s voice boomed.

  Clinching his fists, Charlie didn’t take his eyes off the tombstone for a long moment. Too many of these guys want to lay claim to me, he shrugged his angry shoulders to loosen them.

  “No words to share?” the older man persisted.

  “Not with you,” Charlie hissed.

  “Then you shall listen,” Father inched closer, but remained behind. “I’m sorry that you have become caught up in this; trapped between the two sides.”

  “I bet you are,” Charlie spun to face him, blasting him with all the energy he could muster. To his surprise, the old man reeled from the shock wave, knocked off his feet and sprawled across the ground.

  His mouth open in shock, Charlie squealed as if in pain before clamping it shut. Throwing his hands above his head, pressing his palms flat against one another, he used them to focus his next blow as he brought them down.

  Prepared for the attack this time, Father raised a hand straight above him, splaying his fingers and shielding himself expertly. “You are strong, but you are untrained in the art of battle,” he informed his attacker. Thrusting the hand to the side, he returned the blast, knocking Charlie into a tumble a short distance away. “I did not come here to fight you,” he huffed, getting to his feet.

  “Then you shouldn’t have come,” Charlie shot back, rolling over and quickly standing to face the oldest of the Light Angels, firing another volley as he did so.

  “You are angry,” Father again divert the attack with a flick of his fingers, as if to wave him off. “I understand, but I am not your enemy.”

  “An’ you are not my friend,” the younger man sneered, ceasing his efforts to injure his adversary.

  “No, I suppose not, but we share a common goal, and that you cannot deny.”

  “What goal is that?” Charlie’s eyes gleamed, wishing to continue the battle. He doubted he could defeat the old man, and fighting with him could hold serious consequences if and when Karma discovered the altercation. Still, it made him feel better, trading blows with him.

  “We both want to see an end to the divide,” Father stepped closer, his demeanor calm.

  Pausing further, Charlie studied the aged features in earnest. Deep lines marked the eyes and for a moment he recalled thinking how much he looked like Santa Clause, or had done so on the day of their first meeting. “Karma would never allow us to stand against her,” he finally conceded in a quiet tone. “An’ she has already promised that the separation of the planes will come.”

  “Indeed,” Father smiled with thin lips, stating calmly, “She will destroy all who stand in her way, human and angel alike.”

  A frown formed on Charlie’s forehead as it crinkled; “Yeah.” Turning his back, he stared down at his father’s headstone once more. “How are you going to stop her?”

  “There is a way,” Father’s voice remained low. “It will be revealed to you when the time is right.”

  “Ah, more secrets,” Charlie chuckled. “Why did you come here if you weren’t going to tell me anything?”

  “I have my reasons,” Father grinned fully at the younger man’s back. “You are the key, Charlie. You will find your way,” the raspy voice faded away.

  Silence surrounding him, Charlie turned slowly to find himself alone. “Crazy old coot,” he mumbled to himself, running his fingers through his hair. His reasons, he mentally tallied. To test my strength? My determination? He doubted he would be the key to anything, leaving their future bleak to say the least. Father had been an enigma since they first met, and he hated the old man more than ever.

  Mentally reaching out, Charlie latched onto what he felt certain had been Father’s destination. Transporting himself, he arrived on a crowded stretch of sand. Fortunately, he had made a habit of always using the magical pla
ne for movement, and only shifted to the non-magical realm after he had determined that he would not be detected.

  Seeing the crowd of people enjoying the sun, he glared at the old man who stood with arms stretched as he drank in the rays. His crisp white robe hanging from his arms, palms turned to the sky, he appeared as if from a painting, innocent and pure. “I wasn’t finished with you,” Charlie announced, stepping up to him and staring down at the wrinkled face.

  “Very good,” Father smiled, his eyes still closed. “Your skills are most impressive.”

  “I found you; so what. Karma’s been teaching me how to detect where others are using magic, so I can find pretty much anyone I want as far as Angels go.”

  “Not everyone,” the older man dropped his hands and glared up at him. “Keeper perhaps?”

  Pursing his lips, Charlie huffed, “Well, not yet; but I’m working on it,” he confessed.

  “Good,” Father grasped his upper arm and gave him a small shove, guiding him down the wet sand. “Then I am right about your displeasure at Karma’s plan.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “If you were firm in her grasp, you would not seek the counsel of her enemy.”

  Mentally removing his shoes so that he could feel the grains beneath his feet, Charlie drew in a deep breath of the damp air. “Clarisse loves the ocean,” he mumbled. “You all seem to be attracted to it.”

  Inhaling loudly through his nostrils, Father agreed, “Something in the salt, perhaps. It has a calming effect.”

  The breeze tousling his waves, Charlie studied him. “Tell me about the Angels, Father. The truth, if you don’t mind.”

  “You’ve been searching for the truth for many months,” the older man stated, pausing his step as his features shifted to forlorn. “Despite warnings to stay away.”

  “Yeah,” Charlie agreed. “I have to know, an’ no one gives me all of it. Jus’ bits an’ pieces that I have t’ put together. A giant puzzle, and I can’t stop until the last piece is in place.”

  “All right,” Father resumed their ambling pace, “then you shall hear my words, but you may not like their message.”

  Matching his gait, an eager uptick in his heart rate sent a spark of excitement through the younger man’s nervous system. “Yes, sir,” he encouraged with a small grin.

  As if in a trance, the oldest of the Light Angels divulged his tale with whispering lips. “I’ve watched you, Charlie. Since you were a young boy and I first noticed you. When you crossed the plane and Clarisse gave you a tour of our world, I wasn’t really surprised to see you, or to discover your ease at the transition.”

  Charlie grunted at the word ease, but did not interrupt.

  “You fell into place as if you had always been here; a part of us. And your skills are extraordinary. I dare say you will one day rival Keeper and Karma, if you are allowed to continue on your path.”

  Charlie’s blood ran cold, despite the sun above them. “You mean I’m in danger?”

  “Oh, you’ve always been in danger,” Father agreed with a nod. “No one is quite sure if you will be friend or foe.” He cut his eyes over at his companion. “The greatest Angels can see many things; read much in the hearts and souls of those around them. But you are a dark spot, Charlie.”

  “Dark spot!” he scoffed, taken aback. “You mean I am a Dark Angel?”

  “No. I mean that you are a mystery. Your choices are unclear and your future well disguised. For most, if not all, our future is like an open book, there foretold for any with the gift of sight to recognize. Your pages are blank, Charlie. An enigma I’m certain even Karma and Keeper cannot easily read. Special, as if chosen for a purpose no one can see.”

  Charlie nodded slowly, drinking in the words. “Maybe I don’t want to be special,” he sighed as he ambled along the shore; “I doubt that I was chosen, either.” Arriving at a patch of sand where a fortress had been left to erode, he knelt next to it, his hands reaching out to touch the walls. Tearing at them for a moment and causing them to further decay, he recalled how Clarisse had used his own creation to catch his attention when he and his mother had first settled in California. “It seems so long ago, now,” he muttered.

  “What does?” Father asked quietly, taking a spot next to him.

  Grasping handfuls of fresh sand, Charlie began to rebuild the crumbling mound. “Nothing,” he sighed. “Jus’ remembering, that’s all.” His mind left to wander as he worked, he asked absently, “Have you ever been inside Keeper’s prison?”

  “Yes,” Father nodded. “We almost all have spent time there.”

  “He locked you away… to punish you?”

  “No, Charlie,” the older voice rumbled with soft laughter. “It is often called a prison, but rarely are Angels sent there out of anger or for wrong-doing. It is more like… a haven. A place of safety where we can hide and wait for our next time to walk on the outside.”

  “What generation are you?” Charlie demanded, jerking his face up to stare at his companion.

  “Third,” Father confirmed with a short nod. “I lived my days among the humans many centuries ago, followed by a millennium in waiting. Much of my years were lost after spending so much time lying dormant, waiting for my release.”

  “Where is the prison? How many Angels are in it? Could we break them all out? Would it change anything if we did?” Charlie’s questions came one on top of the other, rushing out of him as his mind raced.

  “A better question would be, should we? Keeper keeps them close, and any such attempt would surely be the end of us.”

  “How can he keep it close?” the young man’s brow furrowed. “Is there another plane hidden from us all?”

  “No, my son. He carries them with him; always. You have seen his prison, his place of safekeeping.”

  His lips puckering, Charlie pictured Keeper in his mind. Tan skin, crinkled face lined with scars. Brown robe, rope belt, pouch of valuables hanging from it. “The pouch,” he said aloud. “How can he shrink them that small?”

  “They are energy,” Father smiled deviously. “They are compressed into bits no larger than a precious jewel; some red as rubies, others bright white, as diamonds. Emeralds, sapphires, all perfectly innocent to any who might see his collection.”

  “Amazing,” Charlie breathed, considering how he might get a peek. “You’ve seen it?”

  “Once, many years ago - ”

  “Do tell,” a low growl interrupted him.

  “Gous!” Charlie shouted, recognizing the Dark Angel’s voice immediately.

  Meddling Passion

  Leaping to his feet, Charlie spun around, looking for his old adversary. Facing him squarely, he stood tall and glared at him. “You never show up without some dark tidings to share, so spit it out and be gone.”

  Laughing loudly, Gous slurred, “I do have a passion for meddling, don’t I. But as it were, I am not here to fight you.”

  “Then what are you here for?” Charlie growled, his fists forming as he prepared for fresh battle.

  “I wish to extend my offer,” Gous curled his dark lips. “I have been forming a resistance to the powers that be, if you will, and still hope to add you to our number.”

  Recalling having confronted him with subject several times, Charlie scowled as he glanced quickly at Father. “You have others who have committed themselves,” he stated more calmly without naming names.

  “Many others,” Father spoke up with a slight smile, and recognition sparked instantly in the younger man’s eyes.

  His lips forming a soft pucker, Charlie moaned, “Ohhhh. I knew about Phil; his disloyalty has always been clear. I suspected about Dante as well, but never dreamed you would follow the path of the darkness, Father.”

  “Choices must be made, my son. Listen to what Gous has to share,” Father replied before his long flowing robe disappeared, leaving the two of them on the crowded beach.

  Grunting, Charlie let him go and squared himself to face the shorter figure before h
im. “Make it quick,” he demanded, “Karma’ll call for me at any moment an’ bein’ found with you is the last thing I wanna do.”

  “Let us feast,” Gous proclaimed, raising a hand and turning towards a few sunbathers that lay around them.

  “No!” Charlie shouted, stepping towards him to physically prevent his antagonizing them.

  His eyes gleaming, Gous sneered, “Ah, so you have tasted the souls of the living.”

  Shoving his hands in his front pockets, Charlie scowled. “I don’t think so.”

  “Doing Karma’s work? A bringer of justice who inflicts pain on those who deserve it?”

  Shaking his head, Charlie persisted, “It wasn’t like that. I did what I had to do, an’ they got what they deserved.”

  “Still, bits of their being were ripped away, and you greedily drank them in. I can see it on you, Charlie. Even if you cannot accept it, you are a part of the darkness,” Gous informed him coldly.

  The wind in his hair, Charlie stared off at the horizon. Shaking his head slowly, he stated flatly, “It isn’t true.” But deep down, he feared that it was. “Jus’ say what you gotta say an’ be gone,” he grunted.

  “Very well,” Gous acquiesced. “You will have to choose, and soon. Soon enough, the forces of Keeper and Karma will collide. It is long known that the chances of their winning rely heavily on garnering the favor of the Chosen.”

  “The Chosen,” Charlie scoffed, interrupting him. “Why does there always have to be a chosen one? It’s absurd,” he shook his head as if to remove the idea from it.

  A deep rumble of laughter rolled from beneath the hood as Gous dropped it into place over his head and disappeared. Not letting him go that easily, Charlie made quick pursuit, arriving next to him in the shadow of a thick jungle. Frozen as soon as he landed at the new location, he stared into the deep green eyes of a large black cat.

  “Is that a panther?” he breathed.

  “Indeed,” Gous grinned with his pointed teeth. “Relax, Charlie. He is part of the living plane; your presence is not detected.”