Keeper(69)

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I can understand why the Guard hunt us. They’re corrupted with dark magic. But I’ve never been able to understand the Scavengers. To turn on your own kind like that . . . for nothing but money.” He shook his head in disgust. “It makes me sick.”

I nodded, not really sure what to say, so I squeezed Gareth’s hand in lieu of words.

“So,” he continued, “you’re not the only one who understands the severity of the situation. We’ve just gotten used to it, I suppose.”

“It makes me angry,” I said. “It just doesn’t seem fair. One dude has control issues, and a whole lot of people have to suffer for it.”

Gareth shrugged. “History is full of people like the Master, people determined to destroy and dominate for no real reason.”

“Yes, but it isn’t fair. And it isn’t right.”

“No, it isn’t. But unfortunately, that’s the way the world works.”

My stomach rolled with nausea. Was that really how the world worked? One man decided that another group of people didn’t deserve to live free, and that was it? There was nothing to be done?

“Why don’t we fight back? Why don’t the Supernaturals combine their powers or something?”

“You don’t think we’ve tried?” Gareth shook his head sadly. “Those with enough power to stand against him were exterminated long ago. Now our kind stays hidden, never grouping together to avoid unwanted attention. What can one or two Supernaturals do against soldiers like the Guard? Against the Master himself?”

“So everyone just stays hidden and hopes the Master doesn’t find them?” I asked. It seemed like no way to live. “That seems so . . . so . . .” I trailed off, not wanting to speak the word out loud.

“Cowardly?” he finished for me. I nodded.

“Well,” Gareth sighed again, “perhaps it is, but fear can be a powerful motivator—or a de-motivator in this case. At the end of the day, I think most of us just want to make it through to the next day.” He squeezed my hand. “Most of us have families that we want to keep safe. It just isn’t worth it to declare war on an adversary we have no hope of defeating.”

“So we just tuck our tails between our legs and run?”

“We do what we must to survive,” Gareth replied with a shrug of his shoulders, standing and moving back over to his pile of clothes. “Can we ask any more than that?”

I didn’t reply. I didn’t want to fight with him again right before he left, though I was tempted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. He might be okay with the status quo, but now that this was my fight too, I certainly wasn’t. Was this how all Supernaturals felt? Just sit back and wait for the Guard to come after them? I shook my head. There had to be another way.

Gareth finished packing the small stack of clothing and toiletries into the duffel bag at the foot of the bed. “Well, I think I have everything I need. I should probably get going.”

He walked over and wrapped his arms around me. I clung to him, and he to me. Finality seemed to wrap around us in the moment, but I shoved it away with all my might.

“You have to promise me you’ll be careful,” Gareth said, squeezing me tighter.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Just, please . . . whatever you do, come back home.”

“I promise, Lainey Bug,” he whispered against my hair. “I promise.”

When we broke apart, Gareth walked over to his closet and pulled a small leather sheath from the shelf. I recognized my dagger.

“I cleaned it for you,” Gareth said as he handed it to me. “And I sharpened the blade, so be very careful. I know we didn’t get to train with it for very long, but it would make me feel better to know that you have it.”

I took the small scabbard in my hand, running my fingers over the smooth leather. “Thank you. I’ll keep it with me.”

“Good,” Gareth said, grabbing his duffel from the bed. “Walk me to the door?”

We walked down the steps in silence, both of us at a loss for words.

I hugged him one more time and watched as he walked to his truck.

“You’ll be at Maggie’s till this all blows over, right?” he called out over the open door. I nodded. “Okay, good. I’ll call you when I can. Oh, and Lainey? One more thing.” Gareth smiled. “I love you. You know that, right?”

I flew down the stairs and into his open arms one last time. “Love you too, Uncle Gareth. . . . Thank you.” There was so much I wanted to say, but I hoped those two little words were enough.

When Gareth pulled back, his eyes were swimming with tears. “No,” he said. “Thank you.”

We embraced a moment longer, and then with one more smile, he was in the truck and driving down the dark street.

I watched until the red taillights of the truck disappeared from view. Trudging back into the house, I headed toward my bedroom to pack my own bag, trying to ignore the terrible feeling gnawing at the back of my mind.

Everything’s going to be fine. The plan will work. Gareth’s words swam in my head.

I sure hoped he was right.



“What about this one?” I held up the sweater for Maggie’s approval.

“It’s fine, but I think my grandmother has the same one in green.”