The Keeper: Revenge
The Keeper Series
Book 2
O.L. Ramos
Genre: Paranormal Romance
ASIN: B00ERHTOUE
Number of pages: 296
Word Count: 112,930
Cover Artist: Dane Low
Book Description:
If the world you lived in
was someday revealed to be nothing but a lie, would you really want
the truth? Elizabeth McBeth did, and she's paid the price for it...
After almost 10 years
since Liz's mother was taken from her, Liz finally found her mother,
Mary. But Mary has been forever changed, something that Liz will have
to accept. The beginning of happier times, one would think...
The conspiracy has been
exposed; Liz, Vincent, Mary and Michael had all thought that the
vampire plot had been destroyed. They should have never
underestimated Klein.
Klein has reinforced his
armies, splitting the entire vampire species with the question... is
Klein the vampiric messiah? Unfortunately for the heroes and the
world itself, Klein has set in motion a plan that will destroy the
world and recreate it in his own image.
Will the group be able to
defeat Klein and restore the balance to nature? Or are they already
doomed?
Chapter 1
It
had been several months since the uproar at the Coronam estate. Klein
had been deemed an enemy of the state for the entire vampire nation,
the ones that wanted to stay on Vincent’s good side, anyway. In all
honesty, the entire time since then had been both frantic and
surreal. Vincent’s declaration before the Coronam asserting that he
was Cain’s enforcer had caused a massive schism in the entire
vampire race.
The
bloodsuckers had always been a chaotic, selfish bunch. But at least
with a strong government like the Coronam reining them in, they were
fearful of getting tortured … or worse. The idea that mass
executions could be a consequence had never entered their minds,
however. Yet now, that’s all anyone could think about. The united
stand made by Vincent and Michael had finally broken the camel’s
back. Some of the more fearful vampires, the ones prone to paranoia,
believed it was an example of what Klein had been warning about for
over a thousand years. They believed Klein to be the true messiah of
Cain, and Vincent to be a mere false prophet sent to lead them
astray. This group of vampires announced themselves as the Hand, a
creepy mishmash of politics and skewed religion.
They
droned on and on about how Klein was the voice of Cain, and they were
the ones who would take action on Cain’s behalf. It was all pretty
shady, and there wasn’t a thing that we could do about it.
Unfortunately, the entire world behind the veil was becoming
increasingly unstable. Vincent was forced to allow Algarus to accept
the Hand’s request for freedom of religion, even though everyone
suspected the whole thing was just a front for a terrorist
organization. But nothing could be proven.
Even
the werewolves had ostracized Michael. Although he was never truly
accepted because of his close association with Vincent, Michael could
at least always request help in the past. Now, he was cut off from
almost all of werewolf society. Almost all of them resented Michael
openly, dismissing his claims that a werewolf was to blame for
Klein’s success. They saw his actions as the beginning for a total
civil war amongst all supers. When dozens of supers were caught
acting as willing slaves for openly rebellious vampires, Michael
realized that there might be truth to the charges imposed against
him. This caused him no shortage of pain.
I
often found myself staring outside my window wondering how things had
worsened so quickly. But then again, I wasn’t the same person I’d
been before all this started. I was now hardened by the experiences
I’d been made to endure, decisions I’d had to make. Things I
truly hoped to repress.
In
the past months, I had witnessed Mom, I mean, Mary, go through a very
thorough and intensive training regimen. The guys had run through
everything from battle concepts and strategies to weaknesses of
almost every super in existence. I have to say it that way because
that was another key point that Michael always stressed to Mary: to
be ready for anything and everything. That it was impossible to know
of every super in the world. It was crazy, considering Michael had an
almost encyclopedic knowledge of thousands of different kinds of
supers. But after dealing with the Hela poison, I could definitely
see why he was being so cautious.
I
guess that brings me to Bobby. Poor Bobby. His entire clan was ousted
from the slayer community, even the children who had never known
combat. This caused many fights to break out … even one Anvil clan
member’s death. The majority of Bobby’s clan blamed him for
siding with a vampire and a werewolf. I don’t know the specifics of
what happened, but I’m positive that the slayers were just trying
to evade the wrath of Klein’s Hand and the Coronam, too. It was
generally agreed that the Hela poison was a threat to the entire
world, both supernatural or otherwise. Still though, an example had
to be made. And so Bobby took his entire clan and relocated all 188
of them to the only place they could safely go. About thirty or so
miles from Angel’s Retreat.
And
I guess that’s why I’m keeping this diary. It’s cliché as all
get out, but for all my big talk … I’m terrified. Everything has
changed. And I’m not even sure it’s for the better either. The
reality is—
A
loud knock announces the presence of a visitor. I turn in my chair to
look at my bedroom entrance and see Vincent. He has a curious look to
his face as he leans on my door and waits for me to say something.
“Hey
Vincent,” I say with a bit of a sigh. “How’s it going?”
“Same
old, same old,” he answers as he walks into the room and heads
straight to the balcony. He opens it up and sits on the guardrail.
“How about you, Goldilocks? You seem to be brooding on a
Michael-esque scale lately. The hell’s wrong with you anyway?”
“What
do you think is wrong with me?” I reply angrily, the sharp tone in
my voice echoing throughout my room. I give it a chance to linger
before I continue. “You know … it’s just that I really thought
we won. Seriously. You guys kicked some major bad guy ass. I thought
that would be that. My mother could come home and be back with Dad, I
could have some semblance of an ordinary life, I don’t know.”
“Why
be ordinary, though?” he asks with a brief turn to me before he
returns to browsing the outside scenery. “You were special before,
you were special during. You’re special now. Why all the teenage
angst? So everything didn’t end up roses … it sucks. We’re
working on it, though. Besides, is this the way you treat me after
not seeing me for two days? That’s hurtful.”
He
pretends to get stabbed in the back, does a horrible silent death
scene and then throws himself off the balcony. I merely shake my
head.
“Wow,
tough crowd,” Vincent says as he floats up and hovers in the air a
little above my balcony. Such a strange sight, but I’m completely
desensitized to it. “You really are on a bummer aren’t you? What
really gives?”
“Oh,
I don’t even know …” I admit reluctantly with a deep sigh. “I
decided to keep this stupid diary. I thought it would make me feel
better if I could just write out my thoughts. Maybe keep them here,
and the negativity would only be here. In secret. Then I could go and
live my life as if nothing ever happened. But it didn’t work out
like that at all. I wrote everything down and it just upset me more.
What good have we done? Everything is just so much worse now. And
this stupid diary is just a reminder of how much we’ve failed.”
“If
it’s so bad, why not just throw it out?” He asks, as if the issue
was a simple one. “Besides, you know that things have to get worse
before they can truly get better.”
“If
it exists, someone can find it,” I explain, already defeated. I
know there is little sense in what I am saying. But it’s the way I
feel. “Maybe someone can know the truth about what we really tried
to do. If the world ends, I mean.”
“What?”
Vincent straggles his question with a chuckle. He stops his silly
flying and lands on the balcony. “Seriously, what happened in the
two days I was gone? This is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever
said to me. And lady, you’ve had your fill.”
I
shake my head slowly. I know he’s right. But what a person thinks
and feels aren’t always on the same page. I know I’m not helping
things. But I can’t just press a switch and change the way I feel.
“While
you were gone, Bobby had to make an example again,” I explain as I
inhale deeply, hoping to forget about the trauma. “Three slayers
came in and tried to kidnap me, or kill me. I don’t know what they
were going to do. Before they even had a chance to touch me, Michael
was on top of all three of them and was carrying them out like a
bunch of … I don’t know, rabbits or something.”
He
looks at me in disbelief. He’s clearly angry, but my strangely odd
word choice has him a little off balance.
“Michael
manhandled them, Vincent,” I say, irritated. “It just looked
weird. They were kicking and screaming and they just never stood a
chance.”
“And
how are you?” Vincent asks as he walks around the room examining
it. “The place seems to be all right, so I guess Mikey didn’t
wreck the place too badly. By your kinda crazy word choice I’m
guessing he didn’t hurt them at all, huh? Knowing him, he probably
just dragged them back to Bobby by the nape of their necks. Oh, I get
it now; rabbits. Heh, pretty good.”
“Yeah,
it was still mildly terrifying, though,” I answer as I start to
feel myself chuckle as well. The image in my head about the incident
is pretty funny, if you can get past the three guys trying to hurt me
part.
“I’m
sure it was,” Vincent says as he switches his attention and walks
towards me slowly with a warm smile on his face. “But you do know
that between Mary, Michael and I, there’s really no chance anyone
can harm you, right? I mean come on sweetheart, you’re stacked.”
I
laugh a little more before shrugging my shoulders.
“So
what kind of example did Bobby make?”
“He
killed the one who made the plan. Skyles was his name,” I report,
once again feeling the burden of the tragedy. “Did you know him? He
expelled the other two.”
“Skyles
… never heard of him. Did they at least find out why or what they
were trying to do?”
“More
or less,” I say as I look down at the ground and inhale deeply
again. “They were trying to take me to the slayer leadership and
barter for their family to live within their community again. Bobby
came by and apologized … he explained that no matter what, what
happened had to happen. He said that almost all of the slayer leaders
know it had to be done. This was just—”
“Damage
control,” Vincent says, finishing my sentence. “Yeah, politics
will kill you every time. I knew that something must have rained on
your parade, though. Want to go downstairs and get a drink?”
I
chuckle. I don’t know if Vincent remembers it, but he drank the
entire house dry before he left.
“How
are we going to do that, smart guy?” I ask playfully. It was good
to see him. Every time anyone leaves the house, I feel vulnerable and
lonely … and it was only getting worse. “You drank everything in
the house before you left on your little excursion.”
“A,
it was not an excursion,” Vincent says with a mischievous smile.
“It was a fact-finding mission. Unfortunately, not much of said
facts were to be found. I’m kinda in a mood myself, now that I
think of it. I did find out that some of the smaller islands of the
Dodecanese was hosting a Klein party … the jerk. He’s even got
Greek critters siding with him.”
“But
why would he be doing that?” I ask, puzzled.
“Not
done yet,” Vincent says as he raises a finger to hush me. “And B,
you should know better than to think I wouldn’t be prepared. I
stocked everything back up and even ordered an underground cellar to
be constructed to house our reserves.”
It
takes me a moment to understand what he means.
“You’re
talking about the booze?!” I say in shock. “Why wouldn’t you
just gloss over that and continue talking about what you found in
Greece?”
“Far
be it for me to allow my reputation to be sullied,” Vincent answers
sarcastically before stifling a laugh. “Besides, Greece has been
there forever; it’s not going anywhere. Booze has to be maintained
and regulated around here. It’s like an endangered species. And
besides again, it’s a part of Greece, but if you want to be
technical it’s really a series of islands off the coast of Greece.
So I didn’t find it in Greece, I found it near Greece.”
I
grunt in frustration before slapping him. I examine him to see his
reaction but he just turns his gaze up to me and smiles.
“Feeling
better, are you?” He asks knowingly. How I hate him and his
sneakiness. “That’s more like it. To thy own self be true. Silly,
down on her luck Izzy. That isn’t Izzy at all. Wow, say that five
times fast. Anyhoo, stop being such a hard luck case and focus on the
task ahead.”
I
continue analyzing his smile before I sit down again. He’s right. I
shake my head because I know that telling him that he’s right is
about as painful as a root canal. But not telling him he’s right
becomes much, much worse.
“I
know,” I say as I admit my lack of options. “You’re right. I’m
sorry. It’s been hard. This last month we haven’t sat down as a
family, or whatever you want to call our group. Not even one Sunday
dinner. We’re not running this like a home. We’re running this
like a prison.”
“Well,
this is the first I’ve heard of it,” Vincent says as he
straightens out his dress shirt. “But have you told the furry boy
scout anything about how you feel?”
“No,
I haven’t,” I answer with yet another sigh. I suppose it’s not
fair to be bothered if I haven’t even given the guys a chance to
fix things. But I just felt restricted. I shrug those feelings off
before continuing. “I know you both have your reasons to do what
you do. Klein needs to be found. The supers are all scared and
getting desperate. Everyone is afraid that the humans will find out
the truth of the world because the vampires all seem to be getting
ready for a civil war. Mary needs to be in fighting shape, my father
needs to be watched and guarded, and I need to be protected.”
“All
while keeping the balance,” Vincent points out in a matter-of-fact
tone. “As you can see, it’s more than a day’s work. You gotta
have more faith. This guy had a ton of failsafe tools, people, and
secrets to work on. It’s a thousand years of this guy thinking that
I was coming to kill him and take his seat of power in the Coronam.
He was ready before we ever even thought about going. As much as I
hate to say it, the guy’s smart. He was prepared.”
Vincent
leans back and stretches his arms; he lets out a yawn. It’s the
worst fake yawn in the history of fake yawns. I suppose when you
haven’t slept or felt exhaustion in 1600 years, you forget these
things.
“Man,
this is boring,” he finally says as he snaps to attention. “I
feel like I should be asleep. I guess it’s been too damn long …
Anyhoo, where was I? Oh yeah, the Dodecanese. Thing about Greece is
that it’s relatively close to Romania and it holds a very important
position in Europe. It’s a brilliant strategic choice. If Klein
wants to hit the Coronam, he can, rather easily. On top of that,
there are so many islands out there, not many are gonna find him. I
found him because I figure he has vastly underestimated my
information network.” Vincent smiles proudly before poking me
softly in my right upper arm.
“Come
on,” he suggests with a nod of his head. “Let’s have a drink,
you could use one. I’ll tell you all about it. We also have to talk
about what we’re going to do to liven this personality of yours
permanently. I can’t have you slapping me every time you feel down
in the dumps.”
I
stand up slowly and look at his incredible, deep blue eyes.
“I
don’t know why you say that,” I say slowly. “I have no problem
slapping you all day long if that’s what needs to happen. You gotta
do what you gotta do, right?”
“I
suppose so,” Vincent agrees with several short nods of his head.
“Of course, you’re just going to end up breaking your hand.”
I
laugh a little before I end up pushing Vincent’s chest. We walk out
of my bedroom and take the obscenely long journey to the common area
of Angel’s Retreat. The place is still as beautiful as ever. The
décor is a very classy blending of old European castle with modern
Hollywood flair, but all of it seems gray and blurred to me. It has
become my prison over these last few months. And I am really sick of
it. When we finally make it to the bar, Vincent urges me to sit. A
change, and a rather drastic one, from me playing bartender to
Vincent’s regular drunk roles.
“Wow
... What a treat!” I exclaim as I sit on the barstool, something I
had become increasingly familiar with in times of stress. “I can’t
believe we’re having a drink and I’m on this side of the counter.
Feels pretty different. It’s nice. If I get Vincent-drunk, will you
help me make it to my bed like I always help you?”
Vincent
clears his throat before raising his finger again. Oh geez, here he
goes again.
“Two
things I have to point out again. Apparently I’m gonna be doing
this all day here,” he says as he puts down the bottle of vodka he
was opening. “A, again, is that you should never make suggestive
statements like that to me unless you want sarcasm as a reply. You
should know better than that. I.e. you want me to help you to bed,
don’t you?”
I
slap him in midsentence just for the sake of slapping him. I have to
admit, it’s a strange relationship we share.
“And
B, again,” Vincent says as he shakes the strike away from his face
and continues his rant. “Saying that someone is Vincent-drunk
implies that I’m nothing but a no-good drunk. That’s also very
hurtful. Besides, you’re the minor here. You should just be glad
I’m even allowing you to drink.”
“You?
Allowing me? That’s hysterical,” I say as I pick up the vodka
cocktail Vincent has slid over to me. “Admit it Vincent, you just
love the company. Michael doesn’t drink much anymore and you just
want a drinking buddy.”
“Yeah,
well, it’s all a part of my nefariously genius plan to get into
your barstool,” Vincent says as he raises his own cocktail to me.
“And before you think about it, I’m not gonna let you slap me
again. You’ve used up your limit for today. Now, as is customary we
will follow the beautiful tradition of—”
“Yeah,
I know,” I say as I raise my glass and tap his with it. I answer
his smile with one of my own. “The beautiful tradition of blessing
our drink. It is a beautiful tradition. Salud, Vincent.”
“And
to you, Izzy,” he says as he brings his glass to his mouth.
“Cent’anni.”
“One
hundred years to you,” I say. Knowing him, this is probably a test.
“Very
good, you’ve been keeping to your studies.”
“No,”
I point out a little sharply. “You just say it so often it’s hard
to forget.”
Vincent
scratches his head and chugs down his drink. He grabs the vodka
bottle and drags it along the counter until it’s in between the two
of us. He looks at me longingly, licking his lips suggestively. It
was good to see at least one of us behaving normally.
“So,
I was thinking about this anyway, before you even brought it up; so
was Michael,” he says as he opens the bottle and begins to pour
himself another round. “We both feel that a lot has happened in
such a short amount of time, we should probably reopen the discussion
about what you should be doing with your life in the meantime. I’m
not going to say that what’s been happening lately is normal for
us, but it has happened several dozens of times in our lives. But we
can’t expect you, in your short nineteen years, to be dealing with
it anywhere near as easily as we have been. I’m surprised you
haven’t snapped like you just did before.”
“Well
thanks a lot,” I say before chugging down my own drink and
snatching the bottle from Vincent’s hands. He only looks at me and
shakes his head. “If you knew I wouldn’t react well, why keep me
here?”
“I
don’t really know what you expected us to do,” Vincent admits
almost in frustration. “You yourself said you were never much of a
social butterfly.”
“More
like a social spider.”
“Yeah,
no kidding,” Vincent agrees before taking the bottle away from me
as I was helping myself to another drink. “Everything in moderation
there, drunko. What I was getting at was that we didn’t really have
a lot of choices here. We could have sent you back to the campus, and
you could have kept working, but for what? You never really mentioned
liking it there. Besides, everyone in town doesn’t even know you
exist anymore. I could try to screw around with their heads again and
give them back their memories of you, but that’s a real loose
option. I don’t wanna do that if I can help it. It’s too
dangerous, even with my newfound powers.”
“Yeah,
yeah, I get it,” I answer in more evident frustration. The whole
thing sucks. He’s right and I know it. But that doesn’t really
matter. It was different when I was still searching for my mother. I
had a plan and a goal. We had achieved that goal and my mother was
back and safe. Now all I did was take alternating courses of
education by the guys … that was losing its fun, to say the least.
“It was easy for me to not appreciate everything in my old life
while I had it, but it’s all I think about now. I even miss the
shrink visits. Don’t misunderstand me, I know what you’re saying,
but there has to be something better to do with my life. I love you
guys, I always will. You both have saved my life, you saved my
mother’s, I mean … there’s no repaying any of that. But when
are we going to get off of terror alert red here?”
“I
was just getting to that,” he continues as he pours himself another
drink. Wow, I never noticed he drank the one he had. Lush. “Michael
and I have been thinking about what we could do to make your time
pass by a little easier. Michael wants you to be protected and
watched over at all times. I disagree with that because you do need
some level of freedom, or else you’ll end up resenting the both of
us.”
“I
would never,” I argue in almost a scream. “I just want some fun.
I’ve watched everything I can on TV; I’m caught up on all my
reading. I would go back to studying all the supers that you guys
know about, but what’s the point? Michael is a rolodex of
information on the subject. Maybe if I could get my job back at
Jack’s Place? Go back to the university, have a normal life? I’m
not going to do anything crazy.”
“You
say that, but you don’t know what you’ll do,” he contends
firmly. “I don’t have you on a leash. None of us do. But what I’m
saying is don’t take this temporary phase of you being down in the
dumps for more than what it is. It’ll pass. Deep down you know what
the right thing to do is. You can’t really risk too much crazy
behavior right now. I bet Klein thinks we aren’t anywhere near
here, especially with all the false information and dead ends we’ve
been leading him on with. But we can’t risk lives with that type of
hunch. Jack’s wouldn’t be so bad, because why would you have a
job if you were with us? But on the other hand, there’s nothing to
do around here but visit Jack’s. Same deal with the university. We
gotta take this slow.”
“How
slow?”
“Not
very,” he assures me before pouring me a little more vodka. “But
reasonably slow. So why don’t you start thinking about what you
want to do when you grow up, huh? The choice is still yours,
eventually. If you wanna walk away from all of this when Klein’s
dead, then you have that option open. It’s just not open to you
right now because we can’t in good conscience let you get yourself
killed.”
“So
what are you saying, Vincent? Stop with the theatre and spit it out.”
He
grasps his glass and stares me in the eyes before presenting his
glass to mine again. “What I’m saying is, give us some ideas,”
Vincent says with a smile as he raises his glass. “And you’re
free to go do whatever you want. Just don’t skip town, huh?”
I
smile back at him and I can’t help hugging him over the counter. He
was obviously not expecting this as I sense him almost jerk in place.
Now
what should I do?
From what I understand,
the first line of this thing is where I say something really
interesting that wins you over. After all, they say that you know
within seconds of meeting a person whether you like them or not.
So...yeah... I got
nothing. But if there is one thing I know, it's that through stories
we discover the world, learn about history and traditions; and in
doing that, we become who we are as an individual.
Since I was a very young
child, my only dream was to become an author one day. I wanted to
reach people with my words, maybe even entertain them. I wanted to
touch their lives and give them something to think about. After all,
I am a loveable blowhard kinda guy... that's gotta be entertaining,
right?
In my life, I've done many
things; from supervising sales for a retail giant chain to being a
Deputy Sheriff. You would think that a person who had been shot at
for a living would be brave enough to write a biography without all
the sarcastic quips. Unfortunately no, that's one of my main flaws as
the above mentioned blowhard.
Anyhoo, please feel free
to drop me a line! If you loved the book, I wanna hear about it. If
you hated every word of it, please make sure to let me know, but
please avoid the CAPS LOCK! The font can be a little... demeaning.
Make sure to have fun guys! They say you only live twice; and if
that's true, we're at least half done.
Excerpt;
Vincent
tilts his head and walks closer to me, stopping about two feet away.
He looks down at me and blinks his eyes, seeming unsure of what to
say. He opens his mouth as if to speak and then stops himself. He
inhales deeply and licks his lips, narrows his eyes and just nods his
head.
“That’s
because, when it comes to your safety, nothing ever will be good
enough,” he answers somberly, almost as if he hated saying it where
others might hear. “You could shoot the bull’s-eye every single
time, you could split bullets with other bullets, it still wouldn’t
be good enough. You’re still a damsel in distress to me. Someone I
need to protect, no matter what. And it’s not just because of the
world and Klein’s plan. You’re my Goldilocks, Goldilocks.”
He
looks at me and lifts my chin up gently with his finger.
“Though
sometimes I’m just looking at your bubble butt for more than just
the sake of your safety,” Vincent says with a cocky smile.
I
try to slap him but he grabs my arm, so softly that I don’t even
know his hand was on my forearm ‘til I see it with my own eyes.
“You
always have to have the last word, don’t you?” I ask, feeling
myself trembling. “You always got to be the joker, the one who
doesn’t care about anything. You think you’re fearless or
unbeatable?”
“Unbeatable?
Nah, not even close,” Vincent says as he begins to stare at my
lips. “Fearless? Hell no, I’m terrified. But I’m not terrified
when I’m fighting Klein’s lackeys or dealing with whatever big
baddie we gotta fight. I’m scared stiff when the idea of you being
in harm’s way comes to my mind. But mostly? I’m just terrified
when I’m in your presence. You. You scare the crap out of me.”
“Me?”
I ask, unsure of what to say as I stammer through a simple word.
Vincent
just continues to stare at my lips as he nods his head slowly.
Then
it happens. I don’t even know why or how myself. But I just have to
have him. I throw myself at him and drape my arms around the back of
his neck. I kiss him passionately, almost aggressively. I feel my
knees shake, almost buckling beneath my body’s weight as I feel his
tongue softly massage my own. I feel goose bumps spring up all over
my body as his fingers run through my hair. He pulls my head back
gently and nibbles on my neck, teasing. I try to wrap my left arm
behind his lower back when I feel him slowly pull away.
I
keep my eyes closed for a few seconds, not sure of what has just
happened. Vincent has his back to me, trying to hide his face.
I was really excited to learn that they are available for fundraisers. 
