Keeper of the Moon (The Keepers: L.A.)

by Harley Jane Kozak

  “Yes,” Sailor said. “Interesting.”

  Kimberly guided her gently onto her back and turned to Declan. “Step outside, would you? I’m going to examine her wounds.”

  He took a seat in the small waiting room, listening to their conversation and the click of a camera as Kimberly photographed the talon marks on Sailor’s chest.

  A minute later Kimberly came out of the exam room. “I’ve changed the dressing. Just need to make a quick phone call,” she said, and headed down the hallway and into her office.

  Sailor appeared in the doorway and fixed him with a look. “Do you always get your way by knocking people unconscious?”

  He looked up at her from the room’s one comfortable chair. “I’ve been downgraded to Wainwright?”

  “You’ve been downgraded to worse than that,” she snapped, pacing the tiny room. “I’m censoring myself. That was a despicable thing to do.”

  “You’re right. And I’m sorry. Look at me,” he said, and when she ignored him, he stood and put a hand on her bare shoulder. She turned quickly and for a moment he thought she would slap him, but instead she shot him a fierce look. Once again something surged through him. Sexual heat. He ignored it. Her eyes were far less scarlet than they’d been earlier. He could see specks of green—her own eye color, if he remembered correctly. “You don’t seem any the worse for it.”

  “I vacillate between enraged and asleep,” she said. “Okay, what did you use to knock me out? Magic?”

  “Jujitsu.”

  Her expression changed. “Can you teach it to me? That particular move?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you teach me the defense against it?”

  “The best defense,” he replied, “is to not let your opponent get close enough to use it on you.”

  “Great. Back up, would you?”

  Declan laughed. He thought he saw the corner of her mouth twitch in response, but at that moment Kimberly came back into the room.

  “Okay,” she said, “I’ve just talked to Antony Brandt, whom I woke out of a sound sleep. I can’t believe people are actually in bed at—” she looked at her watch “—one-eighteen in the morning.” She glanced at Sailor. “Tony Brandt is a senior pathologist at the coroner’s—”

  “I know Tony,” Sailor said.

  “Brandt?” Declan asked. “You’re bringing in Brandt? How many are we going to involve before it makes the morning paper?”

  “Don’t get snippy,” Kimberly said. “I couldn’t do this work without interspecies cooperation. Tony Brandt and I routinely consult with one another. There are too many physiological differences among the species for any one doctor to have that kind of expertise. It’s more like being a vet than a physician, and if you can find someone better at it than me, feel free.”

  Declan said, “We need you. We love you. Go on. What did Brandt say?”

  “Tony did the autopsies on Santoro and Messenger, and has another scheduled for tomorrow morning. Female, age twenty.”

  “The acting student from Cal Arts,” Sailor said. “I don’t know her name.”

  “Yes.” Kimberly opened a cupboard and took out surgical supplies. “Tony said to get him a blood sample and he’ll get it to his lab guy. And we’re to keep her here under observation.”

  “Her meaning me,” Sailor said.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, pardon me, but I’m not being kept anywhere. I’m going home. You’re welcome to a blood sample, though.”

  Kimberly stared at her. “Your eyes. The color isn’t constant. The scarlet pigmentation has receded.”

  “Yes,” Sailor replied. “It comes and goes.”

  “Can you feel it happening?” Kimberly brought out her tiny flashlight again.

  “My eyes don’t feel at all different,” Sailor said, “but at times my vision gets hyperclear. And I get a really excited feeling. Kind of trippy. And I get very talkative. And surges of energy.”

  “That,” Declan said, “could be the síúlacht.”

  Kimberly frowned at Sailor. “You took síúlacht?”

  “You say it like I’m an addict,” Sailor said. “I was given it this afternoon and didn’t like it at all. Nasty stuff. Twigs and leaves and God knows what. Cricket testicles.”

  “She was found by Alessande Salisbrooke,” Declan told Kimberly, “who gave her a dose of it.”

  “I drank only half a cup,” Sailor said, “but I’ll say this, the effect was fantastic. Invigorating. I felt like I could run a marathon.”

  “Síúlacht’s been around forever,” Kimberly said, going to a cupboard and pulling out a tray of surgical supplies. “The Elven have traditionally used it to help them recover after teleporting. But only in emergency situations, because when it wears off, you’re really wiped out. It’s also extremely difficult to make. What time was that?”

  “Early evening,” Sailor said.

  “Its effects would be long gone by now. Enters and leaves the body quickly. Did you take anything besides síúlacht?”

  Sailor said, “No, that’s it.”

  “That’s not quite it,” Declan said. “What about the pill you took two hours ago?”

  “That was síúlacht, too. Here, I have another.” She pulled it out of her pocket and handed it to Kimberly.

  “My God,” Kimberly said. “I’ve never seen it in pill form, or even heard of it.” She sniffed it. “Certainly smells like síúlacht, though.”

  “Can I have it back?” Sailor asked.

  “No, you can’t,” Declan said.

  “I’m asking her, not you,” Sailor said, sitting up. “What are you, the síúlacht police?”

  Kimberly put a restraining hand on Declan’s arm. “Would you please behave yourself?” She turned to Sailor. “Nobody’s judging you.”

  “He is,” Sailor said. “Your Keeper there.”

  “I am,” he said.

  “Declan, shut up,” Kimberly said. “Síúlacht is neither illegal nor addictive, and it’s about as immoral as green tea. But, Sailor, right now I need to understand the symptomology, sort out what the pathogen’s doing to you as opposed to what the síúlacht’s doing.”

  “I can tell you right now what the síúlacht did,” Sailor said. “Saved me from falling face-first into the salad bar. And I’ll tell you what the Scarlet Pathogen does. It makes colors brighter and faces clearer, and people and landscapes and wallpaper and billboards beautiful and intense. Like putting on your 3-D glasses in a 3-D movie. But with an emotional component, too. And then it fades, and everything goes back to normal and I get sleepy.”

  “Interesting,” Kimberly said.

  “Yes, except all the symptoms stopped when the síúlacht kicked in. But I’m getting sleepy now, so I’m guessing the síúlacht is fading and the trippy 3-D episodes will be returning.”

  “Let’s see how much they increase as the síúlacht leaves your system.”

  “I’ll take notes and report back to you,” Sailor promised. “But I’m not staying here ‘under observation,’ because I have a lot to do tomorrow and I’ll be getting an early start.”

  Declan started to protest, but Kimberly patted him on the arm, saying, “Save it. I don’t keep people against their will.” She set about preparing a syringe and a set of test tubes. “But I’ll tell you this, Sailor, you’ve been infected with a potentially life-threatening disease. You’re a Keeper, so you share some genetic coding with the Elven, for whom this is apparently a death sentence. You’re the first non-Elven case of the disease we know of. That makes you important.” She tied piece of rubber tubing around Sailor’s bicep. “Until we understand the symptoms, avoid driving. Also, avoid being alone, and not only because of the disease. Because you were attacked, we’ll assume you have enemies.” She pushed the needle into Sailor’s vein. “I want to see you tomorrow. As the síúlacht leaves your system, I want to know what’s going on with your blood.”

  Sailor didn’t seem to have a problem with needles, Declan noticed. She smiled at the
doctor. “Kimberly, you are a very beautiful woman, do you realize that?”

  Kimberly blinked. “Uh, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Are you romantically involved with Declan?”

  Both Declan and Kimberly said, “No.”

  “Okay, just wondering. Because the two of you are individually really quite attractive, so I have to figure it’s at least occurred to you to hook up. And you, Kimberly, have particularly lovely ears. Do you like my ears, by the way? My mom had them altered when I was three, because they were extremely Elven. Can you even tell? Can I open a window?”

  Kimberly raised an eyebrow. “Let’s finish up here first.” She removed the first test tube and started on a second. “You’re sweating. That was sudden. I think you’re running a fever.”

  “Look at her eyes,” Declan said. “Twice as red as they were five minutes ago.” The scarlet of her irises had intensified, coinciding with her rise in temperature and change in mood.

  Kimberly finished taking blood, pulled off her latex gloves and stuck a thermometer in Sailor’s mouth. “Is that another symptom of these episodes, the sudden rise in temperature?”

  Sailor said, “Mmm-hmm,” and Declan thought back to Alessande’s house and Sailor’s very friendly, very chatty reaction to Vernon Winter.

  The thermometer beeped, and Kimberly removed it. “One hundred one point two. Fastest onset of fever I ever saw. Just sit tight till it drops. Also, keep in mind that pathogens work in mysterious ways. There may be symptoms that haven’t begun to manifest. Impossible to predict what’s incubating and may show up in the next few days or even weeks. So pay attention to—”

  “Okay, it’s over,” Sailor said.

  “What is?”

  “My temperature. It’s dropped. The vision thing is gone, too.”

  Kimberly popped the thermometer back into Sailor’s mouth and pulled out her flashlight, but Declan could see that it was just as Sailor had reported. The scarlet had faded to an unearthly pink.

  “Kimberly,” Declan said, “who will you be consulting with on her condition?”

  “I’ll talk to anyone who can help me treat her. Strictly Others, of course.” She removed the thermometer.

  “You saw the talon marks on her chest,” Declan said. “And you know what that implies about who or what attacked her. It’s not just a medical condition we’ve got here, it’s a political one, as well. Just keep that in mind.”

  “Politics isn’t my concern,” Kimberly said.

  “Well, it’s mine,” Sailor said, buttoning her dress up to the neck once again. “Like him, I’m a Keeper. I may be the only known carrier of a pathogen and the target of some criminal-minded Other, but I’m also responsible for a large number of Elven in this city. That’s my priority. So thank you for your help, and I’ll be back when I can.”

  “She’ll be back within twenty-four hours,” Declan said.

  “Hold on,” Kimberly said. “I want another blood sample before you go, to see if the change you just experienced shows up chemically.”

  Sailor sat through the process again, but hopped off the table the moment the needle was out of her arm. “Last thing,” she said to Kimberly. “I assume you honor the usual doctor-patient confidentiality stuff and will communicate with no one but me about your findings?”

  “You and my fellow scientists. Unless you want family or friends to be given information,” Kimberly said. “Would you like to designate someone?”

  Sailor glanced at Declan. “I’ll let you know,” she said, and walked out of the office.

  * * *

  It was a sensual experience, sitting in the passenger seat of Declan’s Lamborghini, all black leather except for the steering wheel, which was suede. He called it the “Aventador.” The outside resembled a spaceship and the dashboard was lit up like a cockpit, and with the engine rumbling under her she half expected to become airborne. He was careless of speed limits, and that suited her. It was impossible to tear through the streets of Hollywood in a car this powerful without feeling joy. She was aware of his body inches to the left of her, the tensile strength of his hands and forearms, the black T-shirt, the silky black hair. Despite everything that had happened to her that day, nothing could top this, riding in the car with Declan Wainwright, a man she’d been mad for since she’d been an underage teen sneaking into the Snake Pit, completely beneath his notice.

  He was noticing her now. She could feel it.

  “Nice car,” she said.

  “Thank you.”

  “Lousy gas mileage?”

  “Bloody awful.”

  She looked at him, and he glanced at her. She looked away. Then she glanced at him again, because of course she couldn’t let him see she was too shy to maintain eye contact. And then he glanced at her again, and this time he smiled. She smiled, too, and then glanced away yet again. Okay, this was torture. She was too shy to maintain eye contact. She had the craziest feelings going on. She wanted to climb onto his lap, face-to-face, heedless of traffic safety and romantic discretion.

  Toughen up, she told herself. “So, Wainwright,” she said, adopting a breezy tone, “by my calculations you owe me. I’ve given you my story, and I’ve seen your doctor—not that I had a choice—so everything I know, you now know.”

  “And?”

  “And in return I want access to all your sources, networks of information, friends on the Councils.”

  He laughed. “Greedy little beggar.”

  “Too much?”

  He looked at her in the dark, and she couldn’t read his expression.

  “It’s not for me,” she said. “It’s not like I’m asking for an acting job. I want to know who’s killing the Elven.”

  “We want the same thing,” he said, braking as they came to a red light at Crescent Heights. He turned and faced her. “So you’re proposing a partnership.”

  “Am I?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  The thought of being partners with Declan, spending time with him, was so heady that Sailor could hardly imagine it. She took a deep breath. “Okay, I am.”

  “Why me? I’d think you’d go to your cousin Barrie with all this. She’s a shifter Keeper, too.”

  Wow. He had no idea how she felt about him. It was both a relief and a disappointment. “You’re higher up the food chain,” she said. “Barrie would understand that. I need friends in high places on other Councils, because I don’t have any of my own. That I know of. I haven’t been to any meetings yet. Closed ones, I mean. The open meetings don’t really count, they’re just social events.”

  “Then how were you sworn in?” His right arm stretched across the back of her seat, behind her headrest.

  “We have a labyrinth in our backyard. We use it for rituals. Darius Simonides did the honors, standing in for my dad.” She was aware of his arm, so close. She imagined she could feel the body heat emanating from it. Of course, he was just stretching, she told herself. Working out the kinks in his muscles. The biceps and triceps. It didn’t mean anything. He wasn’t coming on to her. Sometimes an arm is just an arm. In need of a stretch.

  “Bit irregular, isn’t it? Vampire swearing in an Elven Keeper?”

  “Darius is my godfather,” she said. “And yes, he’s a bit irregular.” She sat perfectly still, not wanting to touch his arm and then have him politely pull it away, confirming that it was just a stretch, nothing more. “Back to you,” she said. “You really haven’t shared any real information with me yet, besides some measly DNA details. And I’d like some.” She closed her eyes, pretending this was a normal thing, riding in this car, with this man, his arm around her. Almost around her. Okay, around her seat.

  “Ah, but you’ve nothing left to negotiate with, love,” he said. “You’ve given it all away.”

  “Oh no, I haven’t, ‘love.’ Not by a long shot. But I’d sure like to.”

  “Seriously?” he asked.

  Her eyes popped open. She felt a slow burn crawling up her neck, suffusing her fac
e. “Did I just say that out loud?” she asked. “Oh, my God, no. Please tell me I didn’t say that out loud.”

  “Afraid so.” Declan turned back to the road, a smile on his face. With his left hand he turned the wheel hard and pulled over to the right, onto the residential road that ran alongside Laurel Canyon. He came to a stop.

  “This is a nightmare,” Sailor said, heart racing. “It happens when I get really sleepy. It’s not even the Scarlet Pathogen, it’s me, I’ve done it since I was a kid. I think I’m having a thought, and the next thing I know, it’s a conversation, I’ve said it out loud, and—”

  He put the car in Park with his left hand, which couldn’t have been that easy to do, she thought, and then his right hand, the one next to her face, snaked around her neck. She didn’t resist; she just went along with it as the warm palm on the nape of her neck, on her hair, pulled her toward him.

  He stared into her eyes, and then his gaze dropped to her mouth and he pulled her in closer. And then his lips found hers.

  She responded without hesitation. His mouth was warm. His face was scratchy. Everything about him felt familiar, his scent, the sound of his breath. She felt she could kiss him forever, never move from this spot. It was a kiss filled with curiosity and wonder, slow and sweet, unexpected and...something she had dreamed about since the first time she’d laid eyes on him.

  But this was better than a dream.

  A motorcycle zoomed by them, speeding up Laurel Canyon. The spell was broken.

  Declan pulled back and looked at her. It wasn’t easy to return his look, because she had trouble masking her thoughts at this range. Of course, at this range so would he. Her curiosity overcame her reticence, and she raised her eyes to his.

  All she saw was desire. And pleasure. “You’re quite something,” he said softly. Then he turned away, shifted gears and pulled back onto the road. “Okay, I was wrong,” he said.

  “About what?” She cleared her throat. “I...can’t even remember what we were discussing.”

  “Our business deal,” he said.

  “Oh. Of course.”