Keeper of Crows (Keeper of Crows #1)(26)

I pinched my lip as he cast a wary glance in my direction, but there was something else in those tumultuous eyes. Intrigue, maybe?

“You are dangerous,” he said simply, resting his forearms on the deck rail. If I was dangerous, then the Keeper of Crows was terrifying. I’d seen what he could do. He ignored the mental comment and barreled toward me with more.

“If the ruler of the city knew of your power, he would use you. But I swear on my life, I’ll keep you safe. I’ll help you find a way out of here.”

“No one is using me ever again,” I bit out.

“Never say never, Carmen Kennedy.”





10





My feathers had been ruffled. No one was using me, whether I had some sort of power to open fissures or not. Besides that, I thought he was insane. I didn’t cause a fissure, I thought solemnly. I can’t tear the veil. I’m just a soul here. I watched Keeper as he stood deep in thought, arms braced against the deck railing. I was almost able to hear the gears turning in his mind as the sounds of night fell around us and the unearthly bugs sang their sad songs.

The crows rested all around us; some on the tree limbs of a large tree in the back yard, some on the roof’s peak, while still others lay on the ground, nestled into the overgrown tufts of gray grass. It was a moment of calm. A moment to catch our breath after such a strange event this evening. And calm moments in Purgatory, I learned, were fleeting.

Keeper suddenly stiffened, shoving me behind him toward the sliding glass door and the shelter of the safe house. “Get inside.” The low, warning timbre of his voice set me on edge.

“Why? What’s wrong?” Peeking over his shoulder, I saw what worried him. A Lesson, this one a male built like a wall of angry, hulking muscle. His eyes were gone and the sockets that once held them dripped tar onto his heaving chest.

See no evil. Why didn’t the demon bind him so he could do no evil?

“Please go inside and secure all of the doors,” Keeper requested calmly.

“I don’t think I want to be inside,” I admitted on a whisper, inching closer to his back. Not to mention that he was the one who told me no one needed keys in this place.

He looked over his shoulder at me, a perplexed expression wrinkling his forehead just slightly. “You will be safe. I wouldn’t send you into danger, but I will keep you from it, or it from you.”

Swallowing down my fear, I opened the door and backed into the house, watching Keeper jump up onto the railing, standing tall and raising his arms in the air. The crows swirled around the Lesson, disorienting the beast.

Keeper jumped off the balcony and then I couldn’t see him anymore. I locked the glass door and ran to the front door to lock it, too. The windows were beyond my control. Most were stuck either up or down, and those that were up wouldn’t close no matter how hard I pushed. They were frozen. Maybe it was how the person who lived there made them or remembered them, and they brought the whole thing here like this. Maybe it couldn’t change.

From the window, I watched as the birds carried the threat away, dragging the Lesson away from the approaching Keeper. But then I saw the rest of the Lessons waiting nearby and wondered how there would ever be enough crows to combat them all. There were at least a hundred, some without eyes, others with tar dripping from their ears, and others with sealed black spots where their mouths had once been.

I ran to the kitchen, searching for a butcher knife—anything I could use as a weapon. Keeper would need help with this hellish army.

The ones who couldn’t speak? They were the most dangerous, I learned. Because while the others had control of their voices and screamed and bellowed, the ones with no mouth were unable to make any sound whatsoever. Just as I reminded myself of the formidable threat, I realized I shouldn’t speak of the devil. He would appear.

Two hands grabbed my throat from behind, wrenching me to the side and throwing me against the refrigerator. My head swam with black dots, but the pain in my ankle kept me lucid. Fuck. Me. This guy was strong. “Keeper!” I bellowed.

The Lesson needed to be taught a lesson, and I was in no shape to give him one. The windows burst open, angry wind swirling inside along with a torrent of crows. Feathers, once light and delicate as air, soft as down, were driven toward the silent monster. They skewered him, sharp as needles, each embedding into his flesh until he was covered, stumbling toward an escape he wouldn’t find.

I covered my head with my forearms as he passed me by, my mind buzzing with a strange static. A soft touch on my shoulder made me jump. “It’s me,” Keeper said softly, crouching at my side.

“Did you do that to him? Did you have the crows kill him?”

He didn’t answer right away and didn’t look me in the eye when he answered. “Yes.”

I raised up from my knees and hugged his neck harder than was necessary. He saved me from that creature. I was still shaking from head to toe when he cupped his hands and blew toward the Lesson, his body turning to ash and blowing away. I didn’t watch this time to see if his soul was gulped down by one of Keeper’s crows. I was a coward.

“Are there more?” I asked tentatively.

“No, they’ve been dealt with.”

He wasn’t completely honest. Keeper didn’t merely deal with Lessons; he eradicated them. “Thank you,” I told him, still holding his neck in a tight grip. I couldn’t bring myself to let him go.