Keeper's Finder (Keeper's Kin Book 0)

by Beth Alvarez

  Josh didn’t follow until Thaddeus let his eyes drift down to his shirt.

  Blood soaked the whole front of his white dress shirt, the collar sticking to his throat. He’d been so preoccupied with feeding and then the conversation. He hadn’t realized he’d spilled anything—or how much.

  “The laundry area is upstairs,” Thaddeus said. “Next to what will be your room, in fact. I suggest you start there.”

  Nodding, Josh pushed himself up and turned toward the door, reaching to undo his tie.

  “Oh, and, Joshua? I believe you will want this.”

  Josh turned back, blinking in surprise.

  In the old man’s upraised hand was a familiar cell phone, its illuminated screen showing one text message.

  FOUR

  * * *

  A GENTLE TAPPING roused Charlotte from her fitful sleep. Groggy, she lifted her head enough to squint at the alarm clock on the other side of the room.

  It was just after midnight, and her room was dark and quiet. Nothing looked out of place; whatever the noise was, she didn’t think it was inside. Her door was shut. Maybe the cat wanted in.

  Rolling over in bed, she tried to get comfortable enough to go back to sleep.

  Again, a quiet taping begged for her attention.

  Charlotte sat up, tucking a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. That wasn’t the cat. It came from the window, not the door. A distinct uneasiness lodged itself in the pit of her stomach and she gathered her blankets to her chest, reaching for her phone.

  It buzzed with a text message in her hand and she jumped, clapping her free hand to her chest.

  The message on the screen made her head spin.

  Open the window. Need to talk.

  Josh.

  The message she’d sent the night before hovered just above the reply from his number.

  Heart thundering against her ribs and anger boiling in her gut, she moved a shaking hand over the screen to tap out a reply.

  Do you think this is some kind of joke?

  Outside her window, a phone beeped with a message chime she knew too well.

  Dropping her cell phone to her blankets, Charlotte flew across the room and flung open the curtains.

  His head snapped up from the message on his phone and Josh’s blue eyes met hers.

  There he was, sitting on the sloped roof outside her bedroom window like he’d done a thousand times.

  Except he was supposed to be dead. He even wore a well-fitted suit and black tie, as if he’d crawled right out of the casket and up to her window for a chat.

  Shaking her head in disbelief, Charlotte staggered backwards.

  Josh raised a hand in silent plea for her to stop, his brow knitting in concern. He jammed his phone into his pocket and inched closer to the window.

  Did she scream? Fall in the floor crying? Call for help and ask her parents to have her admitted? Her dead boyfriend was prying at the bottom of the window, trying to get it open. She could have figured it a stress-induced hallucination, but she backed up against the door and it was too solid behind her. The window grated against its casing as it came open. The night air was cool and fresh, the smell of impending rain chasing the last vestiges of sleepiness from her mind.

  “Charlie,” Josh whispered, and the moment she heard that hated nickname, all her reservations—and good sense—evaporated.

  Charlotte bolted across the room, flung herself halfway out the window and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

  He held her fast, squeezing tight, tangling his fingers in her hair and hushing her gently when the first sobs racked her body. His lips pressed against her temple, cold as ice.

  “You left me!” she gasped, clawing at the lapels of his suit and burying her face in his shoulder. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye!”

  “I know.” Josh kissed her face, forcing her back enough to wipe her tears with his thumbs. “I’m sorry. None of this was supposed to happen, but I’m here now, and I need to talk to you.”

  “You’re supposed to be dead.”

  When he didn’t reply right away, Charlotte pulled back. “You’re not... are you?”

  He sobered. “I’ll explain everything I can. Can we go inside?”

  Nodding, she wiped her eyes with the heel of her palm and retreated back through the window. “Yeah. Sure. Come in.”

  Josh crawled in after her, standing and pushing the window almost closed. “There’s so much to tell you. I don’t even know where to start.”

  “The part about me attending your funeral might be a good place!”

  He grimaced, that precious half-faced scrunch she’d grown to love. “I’m still trying to figure that part out, myself.”

  She backed to her bed, sitting down with her arms crossed. Her whole body felt encased in ice, so chilled she wasn’t sure she’d ever be warm again. “Do your parents know?”

  Josh hesitated, his shoulders sagging. “No. I haven’t talked to anyone but you. I thought... I thought it was better that way.”

  An awkward silence fell when he didn’t elaborate. Squirming in her seat, Charlotte trained her eyes on the Windsor knot tied at his throat. “What’s with the suit?”

  He touched his tie as if unused to it. “I came straight here. From the office, I mean,” he added with a wince, accurately assessing that she must’ve thought he meant from the grave. “I got a job. It’s a really good one. I just didn’t know it was going to involve me dying.”

  Irritation prickled up her spine and she tightened her arms across her chest. “You faked your death for a job?”

  “No! I didn’t... I mean, I didn’t have anything to do with... I was just as surprised as anyone else, okay? The old man showed up to interview me and told me my family had held a closed-casket funeral after the accident and I couldn’t go home.”

  “The accident?” Her eyes narrowed. “I saw your car, Josh. I saw the mess left behind before your family had it towed. They wouldn’t let your mother into the ambulance.” Annoyance bubbled beneath her skin, quickly brewing into fury. “Were you even in there? Do you have any idea what this did to us?”

  He raked both hands through his hair, exasperated. “Just... Let me talk, okay? Give me a minute. Sit down, I’ll start over.”

  Charlotte scowled, motioning to the bed beneath her.

  Squeezing his eyes closed, Josh exhaled hard and set to pacing. “The accident happened. It was bad. I barely remember it, but I almost died in the wreck. Someone pulled me out. Someone from the organization I’m going to be working with now.”

  She swallowed back her disbelief and forced herself to speak. “Your car was crushed like a tin can. How could you just walk away from that?”

  “I didn’t.” He shrugged. “I died.”

  Again, silence fell.

  He was right in front of her. Solid, physical and real. She’d held him in her arms, breathed in his scent. He paced her room like a caged animal, tense and ready to spring.

  Eventually, he stopped by the window, his back toward her. “Do you remember when you were obsessed with those vampire books in high school? You used to joke about how you’d leave me for a vampire of your own in a heartbeat.”

  A lump lodged itself in her throat. “Josh-”

  “You used to believe in that stuff. Do you remember?”

  Charlotte nodded. “I remember.”

  “I used to think it was stupid. I’m sorry for that.” He bowed his head. “Turns out you were right.”

  She stared at his back for a long time before standing. Still hugging herself, she padded across the room to step between him and the window. He wouldn’t look at her, turning his head away, but when she lifted her hand to cradle his cheek, he leaned into her touch and closed his eyes.

  He was cold beneath her palm, but just as tangible as ever. His breath stirred against her wrist, cooler than it should have been, sending a chill down her spine. She lingered, torn between relief he was alive, confidence he wasn’t, and the tiny, niggling fear she
was losing her mind. Her thumb rested on his chin, her fingers sliding down to his neck, subtly searching.

  His blue eyes lifted, as cold as the rest of him and deep with intensity. “Don’t scream,” he whispered, seeing right through her.

  Her fingers pressed firmly to the tender pulse point in his neck.

  Nothing.

  Absolutely nothing.

  Josh opened his mouth to speak and her eyes quested up to meet his, instead snagging on the long, theatrically sharp fangs that were so woefully out of place in his otherwise perfect smile.

  She didn’t scream.

  She fainted, instead.

  * * *

  When her eyes opened, Charlotte was in bed with pillows stuffed under her feet. Josh sat on the floor at her bedside, hunched over his phone. In the midnight dark, it seemed bright as a beacon, illuminating his whole face. His expression was pinched with worry, his lower lip caught beneath one of his fangs.

  She shifted and he turned in a flash, holding his free hand out to stop her.

  “Take it easy,” Josh murmured.

  Charlotte cocked her head, squinting at his phone.

  He lifted it with a sheepish grin, sitting back on the floor before putting it away. “I was looking up what to do when somebody faints. How do you feel?”

  “Like my dead boyfriend just crawled through my bedroom window and told me he’s a vampire.” She pressed a hand to her forehead, trying to sit up. Her head spun and she abandoned the attempt.

  “Well, that’s good. Considering that all just happened.” Josh reached for her hand and she suppressed a shiver when his frigid fingers laced with hers.

  She squeezed his hand, turning onto her side to face him. “So what does it mean?”

  He grew solemn, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles. “That I have to make a choice. I’m in a mess, Charlie. I don’t know what to do. I didn’t ask for any of this to happen and now I have to pick between disappearing forever or dying like I was supposed to in that wreck.”

  “Don’t call me that,” she grumbled.

  Josh half smiled. “How else will you know it’s really me, if I don’t drive you a little bit crazy?” He smoothed her hair away from her face, his expression fading back to a frown. “How am I supposed to live forever knowing I don’t have you with me?”

  She frowned, too. “Are those really the only options? Die or disappear?”

  Nodding, he stroked the furrow between her eyebrows with a fingertip, as if to smooth it away. “This job—these people—it’s a chance to be involved in something amazing, but they have strict rules. I can take the job and exist among them, but I won’t be allowed to be involved with humans. Not my family or friends... Not you.”

  “Doesn’t sound like a tough decision to me,” Charlotte murmured. “Haven’t we all had times we just wanted to disappear forever?”

  “Yeah, but that always came with the assumption we could come back.”

  She tried again to sit up. This time, her head didn’t spin. She shifted to the edge of the bed, holding her arms out to him.

  He didn’t move. “I have two more nights where I’m allowed to be out in the world like my life is my own to live. After that, I’ll be gone, one way or another.”

  Charlotte’s throat tightened, panic cracking over her like a whiplash. She’d already said goodbye to him once. Was he really telling her she’d have to do it a second time in the span of a week? And she wasn’t the only one. She squeezed her eyes shut, thinking of the Sunday dinner with his parents she’d promised to attend. “What about your family?”

  Josh shifted uneasily. “What about them?”

  “You’re not going to tell them any of this?”

  His face fell. “No. I don’t think so. I think... I think it’s better if I just go, and let them think I’ve been gone the whole time. I think it’d be easier for them that way.”

  A new wave of anger nettled at her, making the hair on the back of her neck prickle. “And you think this is okay to do to me? To come waltzing back into my life a few days after they call me at work to tell me you’re dead?”

  Josh’s mouth fell open. “No! It’s not like that.”

  “What did you think was going to come of this?” she snapped, blinking back tears. “How can you think it’s fair to do this to me?”

  “Charlotte.” He inched forward on his knees, reaching for her hand. She didn’t fight him. “I’m here because I have two nights left that are my own, where I can do whatever I want to do before I have to give them an answer. If I have two nights left to live, then I can’t think of anyone else I’d want to spend them with.”

  She searched his gaze, wanting to find something to be angry at, seeing only hope and sincerity.

  “I’m here because I’m choosing you, Charlotte.” His hands tightened on hers. “Because if these are my last days, I want to spend them with you.”

  For a moment, she focused on the feeling of his hands. They were warmer, almost lifelike, but that could have been her warmth seeping into him.

  “What do you say?” Josh coaxed, his eyes pleading. “You and me, tomorrow night, as soon as I get off work?”

  A thousand hurt and angry responses bounced to the tip of her tongue, yet when she opened her mouth to speak, only a single word escaped.

  “Okay.”

  FIVE

  * * *

  “CAN I HAVE an advance?”

  Thaddeus lifted his head so slowly that Josh dreaded his response. Instead of speaking, the old man just stared at him over the rim of his glasses, his craggy face as sour as ever.

  Josh shifted his weight to one foot, hooking his thumbs in his pockets. “I have a date tonight and I don’t have any money. Unless you got my wallet along with my phone.”

  The old vampire stared at him without blinking.

  “I’m gonna need about a month’s pay by...” His voice caught in his throat and Josh turned his head to cough into one hand. “Um, by tonight.”

  Removing his small, round-framed glasses, Thaddeus tilted his head to one side. “I’ve already told you how I feel about humor, Mr. Rook.”

  There were some obvious benefits to being undead, Josh decided. If he’d tried to have this conversation a week before, his heart would have been beating out of his chest and he would have been sweating bullets. Instead, he stood there as cool and collected as if they spoke of the weather. Aside from the knot of anxiety in the pit of his stomach, anyway—and that was invisible.

  He shrugged. “I’m going to need that paperwork, too. The stuff to approve bringing Charlotte across, just in case she agrees. Can I get it reviewed before I have to sign my job contract?”

  “Are you truly standing in front of me, asking if I can see paperwork that commonly takes six months to review approved in two days?”

  “Are we counting today? Tomorrow night’s my last free night, then I have to make my decision the next morning, right?” Josh scratched his chin, pretending to be more confident than he felt.

  Thaddeus replaced his glasses, sighing and turning to the next page of the contract in front of him. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re important, boy. The VR department was pleased with your resumé, but there were a hundred more that pleased them just as much.”

  Josh hesitated. “VR?”

  The Keeper didn’t look up again, gliding his pen down the side of the page to mark his place as he read. “Please don’t tell me you’re foolish enough to forget we couldn’t possibly have a human resources department.”

  Though he didn’t think vampires could blush, Josh felt a definitive creep of heat up his neck. He inhaled, adjusting his tie and collar to improve the air flow. “Well, no, I just thought it might be called that for simplicity’s sake. Anyway, I know I’m not officially a Keeper or anything yet, but I’m already one of you, so I’m halfway there.”

  “And your assets have not been established yet.” Though his voice was dry and coarse as ever, Thaddeus sounded patient. The man showed little
emotion, really; aside from a few outbursts of wheezing laughter, Josh hadn’t seen him show more than mild amusement or annoyance. He seemed impossible to ruffle, exactly the sort of mild-mannered behavior someone might expect from a suit-clad gentleman.

  Professional. That was the word Josh was looking for.

  The old man clicked his pen, scratching a few words into the contract’s margin. “Even if the organization did agree to give you such a hefty advance, your bank accounts have not yet been established. You have no driver’s license or ID, no record of address or legal residency, no proof of employment, or anything else out of the myriad documentation required before you can join our ranks. All you have is a certificate of death and an identity that ceased to exist the moment it was issued. I’m sure you see the dilemma.”

  “Can’t they speed it up a little?”

  “We are efficient, but these things typically take one to two weeks to establish. Considerably better than the months it would take the local government, you’ll agree?” Thaddeus paused with his pen poised over the contract, then shook his head. “Giving you time to finish your personal business before you begin your training as a Keeper is generous enough.”

  Josh could have thrown something. Instead he nodded as calmly as he could, turning back to the endless drawers of files he’d been put in charge of organizing.

  He was furious and frustrated, but so far, Thaddeus was the only ally he had. He didn’t want to risk angering the old man. There was little chance of retaliation or violence, given the vampire’s quiet disposition, but he couldn’t afford to eliminate the possibility of help.

  Reining in a sigh, Josh stared at the files without seeing. “Thaddeus?”

  The scratching of the pen behind him stopped, a subtle indication the old man was listening.

  Josh closed his eyes. “Who Keeps the Keepers?”

  A long, weighted silence followed. Finally, the high-backed office chair creaked as the old man pushed himself back from his desk and stood, exiting his office without a word.

  Cursing himself for opening his mouth again, Josh hung his head.