The Keep (The Watchers #4)

The Keep (The Watchers #4) Page 34

Was it the blood that’d attuned me like this? Or was it merely my own deprivation? Had my raw emotional state made me vulnerable? Sitting in this confined space, with Ronan, the guy who’d tricked me here, then had the gall to turn around and care.

Like the notes, I let these thoughts wash over me, letting myself be brave enough to truly face and contemplate each one.

“Evgeny Kissin.” Ronan’s subdued voice broke into my thoughts. “That’s the name of the pianist. It’s my favorite recording.”

“Number fourteen,” I said. “That’s the Moonlight Sonata.” Some fundamental tension, a knot that’d been clenched deep in my chest, unspooled. Even the throbbing along my belly subsided. I let my head sink back and sighed a blissful sigh. I loved lots of bands and musicians—Foo Fighters, Cat Power, Nick Cave—but before them all there’d been Beethoven, and I loved him maybe most of all. “How’d you know?”

“How’d I know what?” Ronan asked. I opened my eyes to peer at him, and his questioning gaze was waiting for me. “How did I know that the girl who’d risked her life just so she could smuggle her iPod onto this island might like to listen to a spot of music?”

His humor lightened the mood, yet somehow that only made the moment more serious. More meaningful.

I didn’t take my eyes from him as I asked, “Does this mean I’m to add intuition to the list of your many gifts and abilities?” I quirked an affectionate smile, feeling it in that newly unwound place in my chest.

He laughed then, and the free sound of it was a warm rush along my skin. “Aye, I’m a regular superhero.”

The tape quality was miserable, all raspy and fuzzy, but even so, I leaned back again, letting the music wash over me. “I love Beethoven.” I’d shut my eyes to savor it, but then shot them open again. “Wait. Isn’t this illegal?”

His probing look added some other layer of meaning to my question.

I felt myself blush as I added, “The tape, I mean. Is it allowed?”

“Are you going to tell on me?” He took his eyes from the road to give me a slow smile.

Another smile? Another light comment? The guy was slaying me. We’d never had this. Never done this before. What did it mean, this easy banter with Ronan? Was he flirting?

“We’ll see,” I replied, attempting to sound just as flirtatious. “Maybe if you’re good, I won’t tell.” I blushed furiously—that hadn’t come out right. “I mean, if you’re good with me in the water. For our class,” I quickly added. “As a teacher.” My cheeks were really flaming now, and I turned to watch out the window, letting the leather headrest cool my skin.

Crap…I couldn’t flirt if I tried.

But the little exchange had clearly made him uncomfortable, too, because when he spoke again, it was stilted. “Recordings like this aren’t illegal,” he informed me, answering my question with a formality that, at that moment, I appreciated. “For instructors, at least. We’re allowed to listen to music. As long as it’s classical.”

“No Led Zeppelin?”

“I said classical, not classic.” The look he shot me—once more relaxed around the eyes—said he was beginning to loosen up again. “Definitely no Led Zeppelin. I imagine even Debussy is too gauche for the undead.”

It was my turn to laugh. “Ronan,” I exclaimed. “Was that another joke?”

“Mm.” He nodded, looking pleased with himself. “Terribly clever of me.”

I laughed again, and like that, the tension was gone. It was a place I never thought we’d go—one of easy comfort, where we joked like friends. It made me feel safe enough to ask something that’d been nagging me.

“So…can I ask you a question?”

He smirked. “I’d be shocked if you didn’t.”

“The vampires on this island…” I took a steadying breath. Formulating the words in my mind, I realized how ridiculous it was.

“The vampires?” he prompted.

“They don’t, you know”—another breath, slower this time, exhaled through the teeth—“they’re not the kind who turn into bats, are they?”

A raucous laugh exploded from him, reverberating through the car. “Bats? Now you’re the one to joke.”

I crossed my arms at my chest. “You don’t have to laugh at me.”

“Aye.” He dabbed tears from his eyes. “I really do.” One last hee escaped him—was that a guy giggle?—and he asked, “What on earth made you ask that?”

“I saw a bat is all,” I mumbled.

“You what?”

“Bat,” I snapped. “I saw a bat.”

“You keep company with ancient vampires, and yet you’re afraid of a wee winged rat?” He chuckled one last time.

“I didn’t say I was afraid.” I squirmed low in my seat, embarrassed.

We were quiet after that, and I suspected it was the one brief mention of ancient vampires that’d made him serious again.

Was he thinking about Carden? And what did it mean that, for a moment, I’d forgotten about him?

The cove where he stored the boat came into view, and Ronan swerved off the road, bumping along the rocks and pulling the truck to a stop.

He didn’t open the door, though. Instead, Ronan turned in his seat to face me, and dread shot through me to see how his expression had gone from serious to totally grim. “Why are we here?” he asked skeptically. “And don’t lie to me, Annelise. I know you’d rather set your hair on fire again than—what was it?—do deep-water breath-holding free-dive prep exercises?”

I gave him an overly innocent grin. “I’ve been practicing.”

He stared at me, silently challenging me to speak the truth.

It was a look I was powerless against. “Fine,” I said. “I’m looking for something.”

He raised his brows, waiting.

“Fine,” I repeated, emphasizing the word. “I’m looking for a sea gate. I heard there was some sort of door carved into the cliffs.” The coastline was jagged, an uneven ribbon of small coves and inlets, and I pointed north, back toward campus, to the cliffside jutting between Crispin’s Cove and the sandier beaches. “Back that way.”

He gave me a startled look. “By the keep?”

“Is that where the keep is?” I asked innocently.

“Annelise,” he said in a tone stern with warning.

“C’mon, Ronan. I just want to see it. I heard the vampires have things delivered to them during that celebration you were talking about, that Up Helly Aa thing.”

“I made a mistake telling you about that.” He pinned me with his eyes. “So what does that have to do with this gate?”

“Apparently, boats pull up at high tide to deliver things.”

“You’ve been busy.” He leaned back, looking tired all of a sudden.

“Am I right?”

“You must forget about this whole business.”

“So I am right.”

“Aye,” he admitted. “You’re right. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Boats come delivering things. Or people.” He’d leaned against the headrest, but he slowly turned his head back to me. “Please have a care.”

“I will. I just want to see the door. That’s all. I promise.” I crossed my heart. “Seriously, I’ll be safer if you show it to me. I almost broke my neck this morning trying to hike down to it.”

His knuckles went white, gripping the steering wheel. “You climbed the cliffs beneath the vampires’ castle?”

“I said hike. It was more of a hike.”

“I see.” His eyes narrowed. “Fine,” he said, mimicking our earlier exchange. “I’ll show you the sea gate. But in return, you’re going to have your swim lesson, too.”

“What? No way.”

“Yes way.” He got out, and I followed him to the back of the truck.

“It’s going to be dark soon,” I protested.

“All the better for this extensive training you’ve been telling me about.” He opened the back hatch and pulled out my bag. “If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, then I’ll give swim lessons till you believe you’ll die from them if that’s what I feel will keep you safe.”

I peered closely at him, wondering if I’d misunderstood. “Does that mean you’re not going to stop me from investigating the whole sea gate thing?”

“If I asked you to stop, would you?”

I shrugged. “Guess not.”

He tossed me my gear. “Then get in your wetsuit.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

We walked up the beach to the boat. It was an old wooden dory, stored upside down, its oars nestled in its belly. Like the Range Rover, all Tracers had access to it, but as the resident surfer and sea fanatic, Ronan was the only one I’d ever seen use it.

He’d grabbed rags from the back of the truck, and once we cast off from the shore, I watched, somewhat baffled, as he wrapped them around the paddles. “What’s that for?” I smirked. “To keep them from getting chilly?”

The look he shot me told me this was no joking matter. “It muffles the sound of the oars. Sound carries on the wind. You want a closer look at the vampires, but we don’t want them to get a closer look at us.”

It struck me then, how great the risk was that he was taking for me.

We both had much to think on in silence. It took an eternity to row out, his expression growing more tense with every pull.

“Do you want me to take a turn?” I whispered, showing off my flexed arm, trying for a little good humor. “I’ve been working out.” Though, secretly, I was pleased he was doing all the work—I doubted rowing was good for abdominal injuries.

He glared silently as he skimmed the scarred wood in the water, pulling the boat to a stop.