Surrender the Void Read online

  At that moment, the door to the crypt began to move.

  “Kara!” a familiar voice called. “You okay? We’re coming.”

  My heart skipped a beat as I looked over Keaton’s broad shoulder. My friends. My friends were willing to risk Keaton’s wrath just to help me.

  “Well?” I demanded to know.

  He snapped his head back to me and grinned. “Isn’t it obvious?” he asked. “You have to marry me, babes!”

  4

  A loud boom interrupted what I was about to say.

  I didn’t even know what I was going to say.

  Marriage? To him?

  I jumped, and turned. Keaton came up behind me, the tip of his chin grazing my shoulder.

  I froze.

  Once again, I turned my back to him, leaving myself vulnerable. Exposed.

  Idiot.

  How could I keep doing this? Was I really this stupid?

  “Looks like your friends are coming in to ruin the party, babes.” His hot breath ghosted across my neck and I shuddered. “Think about it. Is your brother this important to ya? ‘Cause, if so, meet me here tomorrow, midnight. This time, come alone. I’m not into sharing, you get what I’m saying?”

  “I -“

  But he was gone.

  I didn’t even see him disappear, I sensed it. It didn’t make any sense to me but I just knew.

  At that moment, the onyx door slowly opened up and my friends came spilling inside.

  “Jesus Christ!” Daphne said, stalking towards me. I had no idea how her eyes adjusted to the darkness but they had because somehow, she knew exactly where I was and nothing caused her to hesitate. “What the fuck do you think you’re thinking, Kar? Oh, right, nothing, because you aren’t thinking!”

  “Daphne,” Mattie murmured, following Daphne into the crypt. Unlike Daphne, however, her eyes glanced around, trying to take in everything. It was obvious she didn’t want to be in here, which made me appreciate the fact that she was even more. “You don’t have to snap at her.”

  “No, Mattie, I think I do.” Daphne didn’t take her crisp, blue eyes off of me. “She barges into this crypt - his crypt - without any weapon, no backup. She sure as shit is going to get yelled at.”

  “Daphne’s right.”

  Both Mattie and Daphne snapped their attention back to me.

  I nodded. “I shouldn’t have come here,” I continued, edging my way to the exit of the crypt. I had no idea where Keaton was right now, but I was positive he was hanging around somewhere, listening to our conversation. “Even if it’s about Richard. I shouldn’t have risked you guys…I shouldn’t have risked myself. I was dumb.”

  “Was?” Daphne arched a brow but the fight had mostly disappeared from her voice.

  “I just…I wanted so badly to believe I would find answers,” I said. “Guess I got so desperate, I was willing to chase ghosts.”

  “It’s okay,” Mattie said, placing one hand on my shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “We get it. Trust me.”

  “So…that’s it?” Daphne still didn’t look like she believed that I was being genuine. “You’re just going to drop it?”

  “I’m in Kea-“ My eyes practically bugged out of their sockets. If I had said his name one more time… But I didn’t. I caught myself.

  Something rustled behind me. I could swear it was Keaton himself, laughing at me. When I looked back at my friends, their gaze was on me. Whatever I just experienced, they had no idea about it.

  “I’m in his crypt,” I said after clearing my throat. “And, honestly, Graham is crazy. I mean, even if there’s logic in what he’s saying, it’s still, you know, crazy logic.” I brushed past Daphne and made my way to the door. I didn’t even hide the fact that I was practically running. “So, I’m wrong. And I’m sorry. Can we just discuss this outside?”

  Mattie and Daphne looked at each other, mouths hanging open.

  “Um…” Daphne began to follow me and Mattie quickly followed suit. “Are you spooked, Kara?”

  “Aren’t you?” I practically yelped. “What do you expect, Daphne. We’re here, aren't we?”

  I stepped outside, only to run into familiar puckered lips and the low-hanging brow of Jim Davidson, the dean of the Keepers Academy and the man who rescued me personally from the shitshow I had been part of years ago. His warm brown eyes were encased in obvious disappointment and his arms were crossed over his broad chest, chin tucked down.

  Immediately, my body reacted. All that guilt I had been pushing away sprung up like heartburn and burned just the same. I couldn’t look at him, even as I felt his stare on me.

  “Kara,” he said in his low voice. “Why am I not surprised to see you here the night of Samhain. And dressed like a witch. Perfect.” I heard him shift and looked up at him. “Daphne and Matilda, I am surprised to find you here. I know the three of you are inseparable but I figured you’d have better sense than this.”

  “To be fair,” Daphne said, “we didn’t know she was going to go in the crypt.”

  “What if he was there, Dean Davidson?” Mattie asked, turning to her side. How she hadn’t tripped over her own two feet, I had no idea. “We couldn’t just let Kara go in there by herself. What if he was there? What if he took advantage of her? What if -”

  He held his hand up to stop Mattie mid-sentence. With his other hand, he pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long sigh. “Look,” he said. “You know all three of you are in trouble, right? I’m used to you guys doing some ill-advised things for whatever reason, but this? This is dangerous. Reckless. The truth is, we don’t know anything about that heathen. We don’t even know if encasing him in onyx worked. What we do know is invoking his spirit by saying his name three times brings him back to our world, gives him access to it. And we can’t risk that, no matter what.” He locked eyes with me. “No matter who might be there.” He reached between me and Daphne to ensure the door to the crypt was fully closed.

  I waited. I thought for sure Keaton was going to burst out with that jack o’lantern smile, throw his arms out, and make some sort of twisted joke all while revealing that we had a discussion, that I had quite possibly awakened his spirit.

  But nothing happened.

  Davidson dropped his arms and turned, walking back to where the academy was. The smoke from the fires faded into the midnight blue sky. It was only now did I realize the low murmur I heard on the way to the crypt had silenced. How long had I been in the crypt?

  “Daphne, you and Mattie will be in detention the next two nights,” Davidson said as we began to make our way back.

  Daphne grunted but neither of them argued. I knew they were being punished because of me, because of my thoughtless behavior. I needed to find a way to make it up to them, I just didn’t know how to do that. I wasn’t good at saying sorry.

  “And you, Kara…” Davidson’s voice grew more agitated. I picked my head up when I felt his eyes on me. He shook his head. “I don’t even know where to start with you. What were you thinking?”

  “I thought -“

  “You know what? I don’t want to know.” Suddenly, he stopped walking and positioned himself in front of me. Without looking at Daphne or Mattie, he said, “You two, you head back to your rooms. Now. Don’t dally, either. I’ll know.”

  “But Kara -“

  “Now, Mattie,” Davidson snapped, his eyes never leaving mine.

  I wanted to look at my friends. I wanted to apologize again. But I couldn’t bring myself to look away from them. I couldn’t find it in me to say anything. I was focused on Davidson, the person who was like a father to me, obvious anger and disappointment and concern in his golden eyes. If looks could make me hate myself, this one would be it.

  The crunch of the leaves under their feet told me they were well on their way to leave. I swallowed, choosing not to say anything at all. Even as their footsteps faded, I waited for Davidson to speak first. I could never predict how he was going to react to things and I knew the safest option for me was to let him handle everything.

  “Well?” he asked, throwing his arms out. His voice seemed to carry through the forest. “Let’s hear your explanation. What were you thinking this time, and I’m using that word loosely because it’s obvious you weren’t thinking.”

  “I heard…” I sucked in a breath, trying to find the right words to say. The ones that were both honest and eloquent, the ones that would show my regret but also help him understand where I was coming from. “A rumor.”

  It was just too bad that I was shit with words.

  My fingers itched to write down my thoughts. I was better at expressing myself that way.

  “A rumor.” Davidson’s voice was flat as he released the breath he had been holding. “Let me guess - would this rumor come from, let’s say, a known conspiracy theorist who might as well be holding a John 3:16 sign up each time he comes into a classroom?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and looked away.

  “What did he say this time?” Davidson asked, tilting his head back and looking at me over his nose. “That shades are the souls of immortals? That heathens are pure and good misunderstood? That the King of Hell just needs to fall in love and then he’ll be hunky dory?”

  My face pinched. It was ridiculous, I realized. Everything that came out of Graham’s mouth was outlandish. Why would I pick and choose to believe him about shades being kept in Keaton’s crypt? Because that was something I wanted? I couldn’t pick and choose facts based on my feelings. That wasn’t the way the world worked.

  I knew that.

  And still, like a fool, I believed.

  I had to try.

  For Richard.

  “Look,” I said. “Can you just punish me? I know I messed up. This was my fault, not theirs, and I’d just
rather go to bed.”

  “What happened?” His voice was serious, so unlike the affable casualness he always seemed to have. Nothing seemed to faze him. “Why did you go in there? Tell me, Kara. How can I help you if I don’t know what’s going on with you?”

  I swallowed. I kicked at the hard dirt under my foot.

  “I thought maybe I could find out about Richard,” I muttered, wincing. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the lecture, the dismissal, the casual sympathy I knew he meant but the constant reiteration caused it to come out dry and stale.

  But it never came.

  I opened my eyes. Davidson peered down at me, concern in his eyes.

  But something else was there too.

  Something almost like helplessness.

  Without warning, he threw his arms out and pulled me to him. “I’m sorry for your loss, Kara, really, I am,” he said softly, nose tickling the strands of my hair. “If there was any way to bring Richard back, to get you closure on what happened, I would. You know I would. But I can’t. And you have to let it go. Or else, I’m afraid you’ll put yourself into more danger, danger you can’t save yourself from. And it would kill me, Kar, it would kill me to see you so lost. Please. I’m begging you. Let your brother go and focus on your present. Your future as a Keeper. Because if you don’t, you’ll be a shell of your potential. And, let me tell you from witnessing it myself with students before you, that’s worse than being a shade.”

  I swallowed, nodding. I wasn’t sure what to say. Again, I was rendered useless.

  My eyes shifted over to the crypt. Davidson was right. If he couldn’t help me, I should let this go. And yet, even as I hugged him back, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was another way to get what I wanted.

  5

  I couldn’t sleep.

  Davidson still hadn’t punished me. Not officially. I assumed I’d be in detention with my friends but other than that, I didn’t know what to expect.

  Which was fine.

  Maybe after the weekend was over, he’d forget all about it.

  I almost snorted in the darkness. I stared up at my ceiling, the long, winnowy branches of the tree just outside my window resembling claws, stretched out to pierce me. I had never been afraid of the dark.

  Now, though…

  Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Keaton. I saw the grass-green eyes, I saw the full lips, the wild hair, the pinstriped suit. Everything about him made my skin crawl and yet my face heated up, my cheeks pinched, and something in my pelvis tugged, like I was a fish who had been hooked by the worst fisherman. He wasn’t just going to gut me, he was going to go tantalizingly slow. He was going to make me enjoy it. And then he was going to rip my belly open until my insides fell out.

  I was afraid, afraid to explore that contradictory feeling. Afraid what it meant.

  I wasn’t attracted to him. He was a heathen, a dead body rotting from the inside out. And yet, I was drawn to him, a moth to a flame.

  I hated this. Hated what I did to him. And a tiny, spiteful part of me hated my little brother because of his stupidity, because he couldn’t just fucking listen to Mom and Dad, and he was taken because of it. As were Mom and Dad, but in a different, more permanent way.

  I was too tired to feel guilt, even though these feelings were wrong.

  I wasn’t sure when I finally drifted off. It had to be super early in the morning, had to be well past the official closing time of Samhain. Even so, that didn’t stop the corners of my dream to slash across my vision like tree branches, didn’t stop the darkness from dropping into my view like a liquidy sludge.

  I fell deeper into some kind of dream. It felt like quicksand, where every time I tried to pull away, to wake myself up, it would suck me in even more.

  Until I dropped onto something - a glacier of some kind.

  Except, it wasn’t cold. My skin pinched in preparation. My shoulders hunched up, ready to provide some sort of tight heat for my slender frame.

  But nothing came.

  “You look tense, babes,” a familiar voice drawled. Wind blew across the back of my neck, lingering like the fingers of a lover. I suppressed a shudder. “What’s got your panties in a twist? Want me to, I don’t know, untwist them?”

  “You, heathen, will stay away from my panties,” I growled, crossing my arms over my chest.

  Keaton threw his head back and cackled. The sound was both as chilling and as alluring as he was, and I hated the way I leaned forward, like his laughter was a sliver of sunlight on a frigid day and I was trying to soak up as much warmth as I could.

  “Sure, babes.” He narrowed his eyes slightly, and there was disbelief in his tone, like he didn’t quite believe me. “Whatever you say.”

  “Why are you here?” I demanded to know. I couldn’t help curling my fingers into fists, couldn’t help digging my nails into my palms, and then pacing up and down…wherever we were in this dream.

  “Just checking in on you,” he said, looking down at his fingernails. He frowned at something he saw, though what could bother a living corpse about his appearance was beyond me. “Heard Davidson outside. Didn’t realize you guys had such a close relationship.”

  I wrinkled my nose, shooting him a look. “Don’t be gross,” I said.

  “Do you know who you’re talking to?” He spread his arms as if to say I should have known better, and honestly, he wasn’t wrong.

  I threw my gaze around our environment. I knew I was dreaming but there was a realness to this place, one that indicated to me it existed somewhere. Maybe not in this realm, but somewhere.

  The room was made from rotting oak bleached by the sun. It almost looked as white as a corpse. Spiders crawled through termite holes through the wood on the wall. The square window was broken in the corner, a rusted curtain billowing in a breeze I couldn’t feel. Besides that, there was no furniture, nowhere to sit.

  “I would appreciate it if you didn’t check in on me, thank you very much,” I said, turning my attention back to this place, this room. It was small but the walls weren’t closing in the way they had in that crypt. “I can handle myself.”

  “Maybe, but your judgement causes me concern.”

  My eyes sprang open and I whirled around to face him. He was leaning against the wall, arms folded loosely across his chest. His gaze was lazy, corner of his left lip curving up, eyes never leaving my frame. There was something incredibly aware in his gaze. It wasn’t sleazy but it wasn’t completely innocent either.

  “What?” I sputtered out. “My judgment? You’re the one who’s a heathen!”

  “You ran into my crypt, babes,” he said flatly, arching his left eyebrow. “My crypt. All because you heard a rumor.”

  I opened my mouth, ready to retort, to defend myself. But there was nothing I could say to defend myself. Unfortunately, in this instance, he was right.

  Again.

  I scoffed and looked away,

  “How can you give me time to think if you’re invading my dreams?” I said. I lifted a finger. “I don’t consent to this, you know.”

  “Then wake up.” He said it so simply, I wanted to scream.

  “What?”

  “It’s pretty simple, babes,” he said. “You don’t want to be here, wake up.”

  “Just wake up,” I snapped. “Just open my eyes. Like I have a choice.”

  “You do.” This time, the grin on his face turned lecherous. “But you won’t.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. I wished there was a couch here I could plop into but I was forced to remain standing.

  “I won’t?” I questioned.

  He shook his head slowly. “Nah,” he said. “You’re curious.”

  “About what?”

  “About me.” His eyes snapped back open and pinned me in place. “About what I can do for you. To you.”

  I swallowed. “If you’re talking about sex, I’m not into necrophilia, thank you very much,” I said. I hated that my voice wasn’t as strong as I wanted it to be, hated that a stammer threatened to take away the dignity I tried to infuse in my words.

  He chuckled, a low, vibrating sound that seemed to scrape over my skin like fingernails. “Oh, babes, what we would do together wouldn’t be applicable to death,” he said. “Because when I fuck you, and I will, you’ll have brought me back to life. You’ll have my ring on your finger. And you’ll be mine in every sense of the word.”