The Keep

“I guess that means no,” I muttered. Surreptitiously cradling my belly in my arms, I turned to look back to shore. Ever careful, Ronan had made certain to row out farther than we usually did. Like, really far. How would I ever detect the gate from here? Unease made my voice sharp. “We’re pretty far away.”



“I dare not go closer,” he said grimly, and I didn’t have to look at him to detect the clench of his jaw. “You endanger us both with this foolish endeavor.”



What to say to that? He was right, of course. Responses like Thanks or I know didn’t quite cover it, so I only nodded. I knew exactly how much he was risking for me.



I tried not to wonder why.



The keep loomed far in the distance, and yet I shivered as though its shadow fell directly over me, its evil and darkness hungry to subsume me. A chill crept along my flesh, and I chafed my arms, telling myself I was being silly. That the black maws in its facade were merely castle windows and not watchful eyes peering at me, detecting my treacherous heart.



My hands ached—I’d been gripping the boat’s edge harder than I realized—and I gave them a sharp shake. “Where are you, little gate?” I’d said it lightly, just enough to prove to myself that I wasn’t afraid. That I didn’t secretly fear I was making a terrible, terrible mistake. I shaded my eyes, peering hard. “Now if only I could figure out where the cliff ends and the castle begins.”



Something hard nudged my back. “Calm yourself,” Ronan said, and the gentleness in his voice surprised me. My tone hadn’t provoked him. Rather, he’d discerned my anxiety, knowing the more snarky my commentary, the more stressed I really was. He was one of the few who understood that about me.



Him…and Carden.



I bit my cheek till I tasted blood. Forget Carden.



The only vampires in my life were the ones I would take down. And it began here and now.



A nudge again, harder this time. I turned, a sassy remark on the tip of my tongue, when I saw he was just handing me a pair of binoculars. Our eyes met and held. His were a studied blank, but the shrug he gave me said all I needed to know. He was looking out for me.



I quirked a half smile, but it made me feel too vulnerable, so I quickly averted my gaze to the binoculars instead. They were compact enough to fit in his pocket. “Cool,” I said tightly. “Thanks.”



It took me a moment to sight through the tiny lenses. Blurs of gray jostled in narrow frames of black; then, in a sudden explosion of clarity, breaking waves and weed-tangled rocks zoomed into view. It took me a moment to make sense of what I was seeing. I tracked upward, finding the keep as a reference point, and then slowly brought the binoculars back down, systematically tracing the cliffside.



Just as I began to doubt I’d even know a sea gate if I saw one, it came into view—a large hole covered by what looked like a thick iron grate. I squinted. A gate—the gate. And it wasn’t nearly as poetic as it sounded, either. If anything, it put me in mind of sewage, of rank tunnels hiding beneath highway overpasses, spilling into concrete runnels like urban riverbeds.



Deep black, this wasn’t just a flaw in the rock face; it had to be an entryway. A tunnel. And it was much lower down the cliff than I’d guessed—the tide wouldn’t need to rise so very high in order to access it by boat. Concealed beneath a wall of shrubbery, it would’ve taken me ages to find by climbing alone. So close to sea level, waves licked mere feet below. Did the tunnel ever fill with water? It was something to consider.



“I assume you’ve found what you’re looking for?” Ronan sounded tense—more tense than usual. Did he not like being this close to vampire central, or was it my desire to get so close that worried him?



I offered him the binoculars, trying to bring the mood back to normal. “Do you want to look?”



But he’d begun rowing away already. “We’re done here.”



Vampires forgotten for the moment, I plucked at the neck of my wetsuit. “I don’t have to swim?” I practically shivered with relief.



“Oh, you’ll swim,” he said with a wicked glint that told me he’d make me pay for this little errand.



Damn. He couldn’t mean I was going to swim…from here. Right?



A small swell smacked the rear of the boat, tossing us forward. I gripped the hard bench to hold on, and…ow. I felt the tiniest tear in my tenuously healing wound. If Ronan were bent on punishing me, he was doing a fine job.



“Don’t get mad at me,” I told him. “If you didn’t want to row me out here, you didn’t have to.”



He raised his brows. “Is that so?”



“Yeah. It’s so.”



He was grimly quiet as he rowed on, giving me ample time to consider his reaction. I’d threatened to take the boat out myself, and he believed he had no other choice but to help me. The bigness and trueness of that impulse sank in. Blew me away.



I’d need to be more careful—I didn’t have enough friends left to be risking them so.



Back in sight of Crispin’s Cove, Ronan once again dragged the oars along the water’s surface, pulling us to a stop. The boat bobbed, and he waited, but I didn’t budge. Our eyes met in a moment’s standoff. He really was going to make me do deep-water exercises.



I huffed. “Fine.”



I reached for a mask, but he stayed my hand. “No,” he said.



“No?” I curled my fingers more tightly around the plastic.



“You were studying the sea gate.”



“The what?” I asked in my best innocent voice.



He only shook his head and snatched the mask from my hand. “No mask.” He met my eyes again, only this time he was the one with the feigned innocence. “You’re the one who wants difficult conditions, Annelise. I’m simply preparing you for ‘difficult conditions.’”



I had to laugh despite myself. “Touché.”



But my agreement didn’t mean acquiescence. In a moment of defiance, I heaved my weight as I stood, making the boat lurch, and bit back a grin to see Ronan startle and grab the side against the sudden rocking. But I was enjoying it a bit too much and, stupidly disregarding the wound in my belly, I flung myself over the side in a way that’d create maximum splash. As I hit the water, I knew instantly I’d done wrong. The fragile seam in my skin tore open further, and salt water slashed like a blade, searing into my tender flesh like I was being stabbed all over again.



I could barely get my head above the surface before I hissed and curled into the pain. Salt in my wound was like a hot brand, and I had to grit my teeth and pant away the pain. “Whoa,” I said as I finally caught my breath. I shook my head, releasing a weird adrenaline-charged sound that was half sob, half laugh. “Holy crap.” I opened my eyes, but Ronan wavered in my vision, so I wiped away tears and then laughed for real, seeing the expression on his face. “What are you looking at?”



“Get out,” he said.



“What?” Mindlessly, I massaged my side, feeling my smile fade.



“Get out of the water.” He reached a demanding hand down to me.



“I just got in.” I shoved away. I’d have loved to get back in the boat, but I needed to buy time—I didn’t think I’d be able to exert myself again without bringing on a fresh wave of agony. My wound was pounding. I was certain I was bleeding into my suit. Were there sharks here? Could they sense blood through my thick neoprene armor?



Normally, I would’ve healed by now. But normally, I’d have been taking Carden’s blood. I’d been sneaking extra shots of the drink when I could, but if I were to survive at this pace, it was clear I’d need to up my dosage even more.



Ronan stretched his hand farther. “Annelise,” he said sternly.



“What if I don’t want to?”



“Then that’s your prerogative.” He scanned the horizon with a nonchalant shrug. “How many sharks do you reckon are in the North Sea this time of year? As I understand it, they prefer the colder waters.”



Two quick scissors kicks, and I whooshed back to the side of the boat, my extended hand begging for a pull up. “You win.”



The look on his face was pretend bafflement. “What’s that you say?”



“Ronan. Help me up.” I began to haul myself over and grimaced at a fresh stab of pain. “Please.”



His hands were under my arms in an instant, lifting me back into the boat. “Jesus, Ann.”



My wound had really torn back open now, and I crumpled onto the bench, doubled over. “Stop calling me that.”



“All right, then,” he said stiffly. “Just tell me, what did you do this time?”



“I didn’t do anything.”



“Take off your suit.” He placed a gentle hand on my shoulder.



I flinched away. “Ronan. I’m not that kind of girl.” I chuffed a little laugh, trying to rid myself of the feeling that I might vomit at any moment.



“This is no laughing matter, Annelise.”



I glanced up. He wasn’t smiling. “How did you know I was bleeding?”



“I’ve seen you burnt, broken, and near death. You’re as stoic as they come.” He helped me sit up. “Your eyes, they went distant…. I’ve seen it happen but once before.”



He was referring to my fight with Lilac—that had to be it. Then, I’d longed to get as far from my charred body as I could. “It’s not nearly that bad.” I blew out a breath, regaining my composure.



“I can tell you’re injured.”



I sighed. “It’s not that big a deal.” And it was true—now that I was out of the water, the pain was not as bad, though the wet, salt-soaked suit chafed something terrible.



“Then it won’t be a big deal for you to show me.”



He was right: It wasn’t a big deal. I wore a swimsuit, the two-piece I always wore under my wetsuit. The top covered me more than a jog bra would. So then why did it feel like a big deal?