Keeper's Finder (Keeper's Kin Book 0)
Page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Author’s Notes
About the Author
Keeper’s Finder
A Keeper’s Kin story
by Beth Alvarez
This is a work of fiction. All characters and events are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to real people or events is entirely coincidental.
KEEPER’S FINDER
Copyright © 2017 by Beth Alvarez.
All rights reserved.
Cover art by Steven Dixon
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without the express written permission of the author.
First Edition: September 2017
Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Author’s Notes
About the Author
ONE
* * *
AT TWENTY-THREE YEARS of age, there were few things Joshua Rook was sure of. That he was dead was, unfortunately, one of them.
The screeching tires and shattering glass still echoed in his ears, but the only sound here was the steady tick of a dusty grandfather clock.
He sat up on a dark-upholstered chaise, rubbing the back of his neck and blinking against the disorientation spinning in his head. Musty books and stale air assaulted his nostrils as he turned his head to look around.
Aside from the tall bookshelves behind an oversized desk, the sitting room looked like part of a funeral home. He’d seen a place much like this when his grandfather passed, two years before. Red carpet and antique furniture could have been interesting anywhere else, but here it was as bland as the artificial potted greenery scattered around the room.
Only one thing about the arrangement was off: there was no casket.
Josh held out his arms and inspected himself. The dress shirt and tie he wore seemed right for funeral, but he didn’t think it common practice to lay corpses in waiting rooms before a visitation.
Or for the corpse to be moving.
Just to be sure, he pressed his fingers to his wrist and waited. Seconds ticked by.
No pulse.
“Ah, you’re awake.”
Josh jumped, spinning in his seat to face the stranger in the doorway.
The old man removed his derby hat, hanging it on a rack beside the door.
He was a distinguished fellow. Tall, thin, and dressed in a full suit, complete with a narrow black tie in a Windsor knot. Josh eyed that for a long moment. He’d just taught himself that knot; he’d used it the day before, hoping to make a good impression at a job interview he’d waited too long for. It had gone well. Not that it mattered now.
Josh lowered his eyes and put his fingers to his wrist again. “Am I really...”
“Dead?” the old man asked, his face unchanging. “Yes, I’m afraid so.”
Josh’s shoulders slumped. “Are you the funeral director?”
The old man’s thick white brows rose as he chuckled. “Certainly not. My name is Thaddeus, and I’ve been dead much longer than you.”
So he was here to guide him to the afterlife. Josh bowed his head. His chest ached; the lack of a heartbeat was both uncomfortable and disturbing.
“I realize this is difficult for you,” Thaddeus said, pacing across the small waiting room to take a seat behind the cherry wood desk. “It’s certainly not an ideal situation, but sometimes we make do with what we are given.”
Josh swallowed against the thick, dry feeling in his throat. It was oddly tangible; now that he thought about it, everything was tangible. If he was dead, nothing more than a spirit, why did he still feel the fabric moving over his skin?
“Regardless of the situation, I’m pleased to have the opportunity to speak with you,” Thaddeus went on in a cordial tone, sorting papers on the desk for a moment before lacing his gnarled fingers together. “Joshua, isn’t it? Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself?”
“I thought you people would know all about me,” Josh replied hesitantly.
Thaddeus appeared either surprised or amused, his brows climbing again. “Do you remember us bringing you across?”
Joshua remembered bits and pieces about his death, though trying to call them to mind made him shudder. He recalled the noise and the force of the impact, but everything after that was a haze. He shook his head.
The old man frowned. “Then what would you know about the organization?”
This wasn’t what Josh had imagined when his grandmother told him he’d be questioned outside the Pearly Gates. His brow furrowed and he shifted back, suddenly wary. “Am I going to hell?”
At that, Thaddeus burst out laughing.
Josh stifled rising irritation.
“I apologize,” the old man said, clearing his throat and smothering another laugh. “Allow me to explain, as I see you truly have no idea what is going on. We are not so dead as that, young man. I believe some would call us damned, but most prefer the term undead.”
If his heart had been beating, Josh thought it would have skipped one. His stomach heaved, proving itself fully functional. “Like zombies?”
Thaddeus snorted. “Zombies are both repugnant and fragile, and they do not retain a modicum of intelligence past death. No, young man. Nothing like zombies. Vampires.”
Josh stared back in silence for a long time. Then he rose, crossing to the window and reaching for the curtains.
“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.”
He pulled them open a sliver. Sunlight lanced over his arm, hot as a brand, scorching his flesh through the thin linen of his white dress shirt. Josh shouted, jerking backwards, letting the curtain fall back into place.
Thaddeus turned his attention back to the papers on his desk. “Imagine that.”
Biting his tongue to keep from cursing, Josh unbuttoned the cuff of his sleeve and rolled it up. A narrow stripe of blistered flesh greeted him. He released his breath in an angry hiss. “I thought vampires were nocturnal!”
“Generally speaking, yes.” Thaddeus shrugged.
“Then why is the sun up?”
“Why are you peeling back the curtains? What do you expect to see?”
Josh opened his mouth to reply, then stopped. What had he expected? Some familiar landscape to orient himself with? A mass of clouds or fiery brimstone to prove the old man was lying?
“If you’re inclined to investigate further, there’s a mirror in the hallway. It’s useless to us, but does provide the benefit of revealing if any of our kind come to visit.” The elder vampire tapped a few papers on the desk to align their edges. “I find there are two kinds of fledglings; those who panic, and those who try to rationalize their condition. Which are you, I wonder?”
Oh, he felt like panicking. He couldn’t run outside, not if the light burned him, but he might be able to figure out where he was. Or if he had a reflection. Everything inside him urged him to run to the hallway to see if his reflection was there. Instead, Josh swallowed hard, returning to the chaise. Panic wouldn’t help him. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm down.
A hin
t of a smile pulled at the corners of the old man’s mouth. “I see.”
A hallucination, Josh decided. It was the most likely explanation, perhaps brought on by trauma. He’d heard about those kind of things from his mother; as a nurse, she brought home all sorts of strange stories.
None so strange as the living dead, however.
“The accident,” Josh managed, dragging his tongue over his lips and wishing his mouth weren’t so dry. “I was in a car crash. That’s related to this, isn’t it?”
“After a fashion.” Thaddeus frowned now, reaching for a pen. “It was most unfortunate. You were the only casualty in an accident involving a gentleman driving under the influence. A frightful mess. You would not be here if one of us hadn’t been looking for you.”
Josh stared back at him. Why would anyone have been looking for him? Never mind a vampire. If there were vampires. “I don’t understand.”
“You were brought across at the cusp between life and death. It happened on the scene. Had a Keeper not been present before the paramedics arrived, you would have been declared dead before they ever cut your seatbelt to get you free.” There was a grim sort of amusement in the old man’s voice. “Of course, this did prevent certain protocols from being followed. Given that the alternative was a more permanent sort of death, it was decided we may as well turn you and have a chance to speak.”
“A chance to speak?” Josh scrubbed a hand through his dirty blond hair, stifling a laugh of disbelief. “Forget talking. I have to see my family!”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
Neither was being a vampire. Yet here he was, rubbing the blistered skin on his forearm. It still burned, proof enough for him he was alive—whether or not he had a pulse. “Why not?”
Thaddeus grimaced, tapping his pen against the paper. “It’s been several days, Mr. Rook. Your family has already held a closed-casket visitation and—as far as they know—had you cremated.”
Josh’s shoulders sagged and he was suddenly grateful he was already sitting. So he was dead. Really dead, in more ways than one.
He raised a hand to his mouth, running a finger over his teeth. The razor tip on one of his canines slit his fingertip. He jerked, pulling his hand back. A tiny droplet of crimson welled in the cut.
Sorrow wrenched his heart and he pressed one palm to his chest, again grimacing at the aching lack of a heartbeat.
“Why?” he asked in a whisper when he finally found his voice. “Why would you do this to me?”
Bobbing one bony finger at him, Thaddeus returned to his former good cheer. “As I said, you were changed so I might be afforded an opportunity to speak to you. You see, my colleagues and I happened across your resumé on the Internet. I understand you are looking for clerical work?”
All Josh could do was gape.
He’d died and been brought back to life, made undead, and now he sat in the dusty parlor of a funeral home with an elder vampire who wanted to talk about his resumé?
He couldn’t hold back his disbelief. “You brought me back to life to offer me a job?”
“Better late than never, wouldn’t you agree?” Thaddeus grinned at him. The sight of the old man’s elongated, yellowed fangs made him shudder.
“No, I don’t agree!” Josh leaped from the chaise, raking his hands through his hair. “What about my friends? My parents? What about my brother? My girlfriend?”
Oh, Lord, his girlfriend. Just thinking of Charlotte made his stomach roll over and before he knew it, Josh was on his hands and knees on the floor, gasping for breath that couldn’t satisfy his lungs.
Charlotte. He’d been on his way to see her. She thought he was dead.
“Halfway between panic and rationality,” Thaddeus mused. “Interesting.”
If it weren’t for the bands of anxiety squeezing the air out of his chest, Josh would have raised his head and snapped at the old man. Instead, he just wheezed, his arms trembling beneath him.
A gentle hand touched his back. “Deep breaths. Remember it won’t help you, it’s just to calm your nerves. You don’t need air for anything other than speech.”
Josh squeezed his eyes closed, focusing on filling his lungs.
Thaddeus frowned and shifted back, remaining crouched beside him. “Perhaps you need more time before we discuss this.”
This time, Josh did lift his head. “I just found out I’m dead, and all you want to talk about is a job?”
“Undead,” Thaddeus corrected dryly. “And if you’re not interested, you’re welcome to commit suicide by sunlight. You seemed rather concerned about the state of your immortal soul. You’ll be happy to know subjecting yourself willingly to death within the light will spare you damnation.”
As panicked as he was, that didn’t seem like a reasonable option.
The old vampire smirked. “You hesitated. Very well, then. We’ll talk about the job first, then you can make your decision.”
That was harder to object to. No matter how distressing the situation, it had to be worth at least considering. It could be worse; he could be regular dead. As long as he was moving, breathing and thinking, there was a possibility to do something fruitful.
If nothing else, he could wrap up loose ends and offer his family closure before truly settling into his grave.
Swallowing and willing his breath to even out, Josh nodded. “All right... Let’s talk.”
“Excellent.” That cordial note returned to the old man’s voice. Thaddeus stood, somewhat stiffly, and returned to his place behind the desk. “Now, why don’t you tell me a bit about your work history?”
Almost unable to believe it, Josh climbed back onto the chaise and readied himself for one last job interview.
TWO
* * *
THE LIGHT SNAPPED on overhead, jarring Josh out of slumber and sending him crashing to the floor.
“Rise and shine,” Thaddeus chuckled mirthlessly, stalking past him without offering assistance. He plucked a folder off the cherry wood desk, tucking it into his plain black leather briefcase.
All the disorientation was back. Josh sat up, rubbing the back of his neck as he took in the parlor—the office, as he knew now—and the old man behind it. “What’s going on?” His voice was hoarse, his throat dryer than ever before.
“We may be vampires, young man, but we are not nocturnal. Our day begins at sunrise and ends well after dark.”
Josh resisted a groan, scrubbing his face with both hands.
Their interview had lasted close to two hours, though a good deal of the conversation had revolved around being a vampire and the questions he had, rather than the job. He still had little idea what said job entailed, though Thaddeus promised he’d understand soon. It was office work; he knew that much.
It had been early evening when they concluded. Thaddeus had invited him to see the organization’s office then, but mental exhaustion got the better of him. Josh didn’t remember falling asleep on the chaise but, apparently, he’d slept all night. The tall grandfather clock beside the door said it was almost six thirty, and the tiniest gleam of sunlight glittered where the curtains didn’t quite meet.
Thaddeus snapped his briefcase closed, towering over him with a frown. “I suppose you’ll have to make do with what you’re wearing. The organization hasn’t sent any more clothing for you. However, you may wish to comb your hair before we make our way to the office.”
“Sure,” Josh croaked. “I’ll get right on that.” He climbed to his feet, surprised to find his body ached. He’d thought death would get rid of problems like those.
“Left when you step into the hall,” Thaddeus said. “The washroom is at the far end, past the stairs, on the right.”
“Washroom?” Josh repeated, unable to keep the sarcastic lilt out of his voice.
The old man didn’t appear amused, but he went on as if Josh hadn’t spoken. “Clean up and meet me at the front door in ten minutes.”
Josh rolled his eyes when the elder vampire turned
his back, slipping out into the hall behind him. He cut toward the left when Thaddeus went right, trudging toward the open staircase with its dark wood railing.
He hadn’t set foot outside the office before now and discovering he was in a house, rather than a funeral home, came as a surprise. All the furnishings were old-fashioned, though the house was in good repair. Even the bathroom past the foot of the staircase was old-fashioned, with a pedestal sink and claw-footed tub. A shower head had been added over the tub. As the only sleek and chrome thing present, it looked wildly out of place.
Josh flicked on the light switch, almost jumping out of his skin when he found the mirror empty.
It had to be a trick. Some kind of wicked joke. Vampire or not, that didn’t seem possible. He leaned forward, pressing his hand to the glass. It felt normal, cold and smooth. It looked normal, too, spattered with water marks and toothpaste above the faucet.
Stepping back, he ran a hand over the shower curtain hung beside the tub.
It rippled in the mirror and he flew back against the wall, spitting curses and raking his hands through his hair.
Slowly, the curtain settled, but his nerves didn’t. Josh stared at the mirror with a lump in his throat and bands of constriction around his chest. If his heart were still beating, he thought it’d be hammering its way out of his ribcage right now.
“Four minutes,” Thaddeus called from down the hall.
Josh gulped, pushing himself off the wall.
He splashed cool water on his face and rinsed his mouth. The sharp bite of chlorine in the water made him grimace. He spat with a shudder, drawing his tongue over his teeth, lingering on the pointed tips of his new fangs. There weren’t any extra toothbrushes in the holder on the counter and he wasn’t planning on sharing with the old man. His hands still shook when he ran more water over them, then smoothed his wet fingers through his hair. That would have to do. How was he supposed to have any idea what he looked like?
“Mr. Rook, if you cannot even prepare yourself in a timely fashion-”