Keeper Chronicles: Awakening Read Online Free

island still might flood, so sleep would have to wait a while. Besides, it was good practice to wait at least an hour after the last bolt of lightning just in case a particularly slow demon hadn’t reached his trap yet.
    The house was little more than a box with a table and miniature kitchen on the left side, a small bedroom on the right, and a fireplace along the back wall the building shared with the tower. It didn’t take long to get a fire going, and he set his wet things on a rack nearby to dry as he gave his weapons a perfunctory cleaning. He’d be more thorough once he was certain his watch had ended for the night.
    Wearing boxers and a fresh t-shirt, he sat at the table and flipped open his laptop. The satellite hookup for internet took a little time, so he radioed in to the park office.
    “Willamook reporting in.”
    “This is headquarters. You’re clear to talk, over.”
    He squeezed the trigger on the hand-held microphone. “The storm’s moved on south. No escapes to report.”
    There was a hesitation on the other end. “Keep watch until you get the clear, copy?”
    “Copy. Did some get through the perimeter guards?”
    “That’s a negative, but Meceta Head’s not responding. I’ve sent a car out to investigate, over.”
    Old Mr. Lorek had probably fallen asleep again. The retirement party they’d thrown him should have been enough of a clue that his watch was over. Still, as useless as the old man was, he’d done something Gabe’s own parents hadn’t had the courage or decency to do: he kept Rebekah from knowing the awful truth. Kept her from living a life about death. Unfortunately, that meant that Gabe himself became unwelcome after a while. He winced. “Want me to head up to shore?”
    Please say no.
    Another delay. “Negative. We’ll handle it from here.” Static surged through the connection. “And Gabe?”
    “Yes?”
    “Dinner soon—when the weather breaks? Your father and I miss you.”
    He’d rather shove a fork into his eye than have dinner with his father and listen to another hour-long lecture about duty and the safety of the human race and why hadn’t Gabe returned his calls. Especially since it took about an hour to get to shore and dock, and another two of driving to reach the regional center. “Of course, Mom. Just say when. Willamook out.”
    Standing to find a new pair of pants so he could return to his watch, Gabe froze as a cold chill started at the crown of his head and traveled the length of his body, igniting every nerve ending like Fourth of July fireworks. The sensation stole his breath, and without thinking, he turned back toward the table and grabbed the microphone again.
    “Mom? Are you okay?” he asked, a lump in the back of his throat.
    Static.
    “Mom? Dad? Someone answer me, damn it!”
    Gabe punched the table, bloodying his knuckles. Glad for the pain to replace the pit of dread churning in his gut. He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t live through it again. Not this soon. Not when he’d finally been able to sleep through the night.
    “Gabe?” Her voice was as frantic. “Gabe, answer me.”
    “Mom. You’re alive.”
    “Dad and I are fine. Are you okay? I mean...”
    He didn’t let her finish. “Don’t worry about me. Who was it?”
    Keepers linked by blood, no matter how old or tenuous the thread, felt that rush of cold when one of their own died. If it hadn’t been his parents, it was likely someone else he knew. Someone else’s parent or child or wife.
    “Not sure. Everyone’s accounted for except Lorek and Moore. I hate to ask, but how soon can you get up there?”
    “I’ll take the Jet Ski. I can be up there in forty-five minutes, and I’ll work my way inland from Cape Cove.”
    “Okay. Be safe, son.”
    “Always am.”
    The relief he felt that his parents were still alive was topped only by his guilt at hoping that someone else’s loved one had passed away. Moore had an alcoholic husband only good for slaying and two young children.