The Keepers Book Two of the Holding Kate Series (8 page)

Kate jerked around. “What?”

“You are the woman, Kate. You will be the cause of Corey’s gruesome death.”

QUANTUM PERSPECTIVE SOURCE (QPS): COREY CHASTAIN

Several things happened at once. Dirk and Trip argued that it couldn’t possibly be what they saw and there had to be some other explanation. Kate ground her palms together, intensity mounting until she leaned away, afraid to touch me.

“Get away from me!” she wheezed, and clambered up. “I knew it. I’m poison!” She paced around the patio in circles shaking her head and pressing her palms.

Mel matched her pace, trying to comfort her. “Kate!” She took her by the shoulders. “It won’t happen. It was a warning or something.”

Kate searched her eyes. “You don’t even believe that do you?” When Mel didn’t respond right away, she wriggled out of her grasp and continued pacing.

Dirk and Trip continued to argue with Tara. Donnie came to stand beside me, and we watched Mel and Kate pace back and forth. My stomach squirmed to see Kate’s anxiety mounting. Within minutes she was hyperventilating. She ran to the back wall but vomited on the flag stone patio before she collapsed into broken-hearted sobs.

I walked over to pick her up. “No, Corey, no!” She held up her hands. “Don’t come near me. I am poison!” she sobbed.

“No, Kate, you are not!” I reached for her, torn to see her so upset.

She scrambled back, flinching. “Please Corey, I can’t stand the thought of hurting you! Please stay away from me!”

I froze with my hand outstretched beside her, not wanting to do anything to make it worse. Helplessly, I looked around at the Keepers.

Donnie stepped beside me and placed a firm hand on my shoulder. He moved in front of me, scooped Kate into his arms, and carried her to our bed. Mel pressed a sympathetic hand to the top of my head then followed them into the room.

I whirled around, anger-infused. “God! Tara! Why did you have to tell her that! I can’t believe you! Of all the sadistic—”

“Whoa, now.” Trip wedged himself between us. “Back off, Corey!”

I unleashed my anger onto him. “How is Kate supposed to deal with the thought that she could be the cause of my death? The idea that she could plan and execute such a vile act is preposterous. How is she gonna get over this one? Explain that to me Trip!”

“I know, man, but yelling at Tara isn’t going to fix things now. What’s done is done.” His volume rose to match mine.

Tara ran to her room in tears. Trip followed her but not before giving me a look to kill.

Dirk and I were left alone on the suddenly still patio. The fight melted out of me as I looked into his worried face. I took the water hose and cleaned up Kate’s mess, and then we sat and stared at the bug zapper as it sizzled away its problems. I never thought I would be jealous of a bug zapper
. If only this problem would fizzle out as quickly as those mosquitoes.

“What do you think?” Dirk asked me, his elbows on his knees.

It took me a long time to answer. So many thoughts raced through my mind.
It could never happen! Bull crap! Tara and Mel are liars! No, they have never lied to me. The Scriptorium is tainted. No, it isn’t part of the Quantum Matrix. Kate would never…but the Beautiful One said she would be unfaithful. I don’t believe it. I won’t believe it. My Kate of a Thousand Years would never betray me, much less plot my brutal murder
.

“I think it will take a miracle to convince my wife she isn’t going to be the cause of my demise.”

“Does she believe it?”

“It doesn’t matter if she believes it or not. She won’t take the chance that it might be true.”

“That kind of proves that it isn’t true.”

“Maybe he intended to warn us about the nature of the quest we are going to take. Maybe the One just wanted us to realize that we must be diligent, that even the tightest of human bonds can be shattered if they aren’t guarded.”

“Maybe,” Dirk said. “You think you can convince her of that?” He tossed his head toward the master suite.

“I have to. I can’t live without her.”

“That kind of proves it is true.” He raised his eyebrows significantly.

I understood what he inferred. The Corey in the Scriptorium gave his life for Kate. He warned me away from that train of thought. It didn’t matter. Kate and I were just like this. We were one. There was no point to life without her.

I slept on the couch on our wedding night.

Perfect.

My dreams were filled with Kate. Our wedding, our union, the sweetness of her body, images of Kate danced and whirled through my dreams. I traced her belly with a stalk of wheat and left tattoo marks every place the wheat touched. The marks swirled and became green scales with black spots that formed into a baby dragon curled on her chest, but not as a three dimensional dragon. He slithered over her, a two dimensional tattoo. Writhing across her flesh, he grew larger and larger until eclipsing her in the skin of a full-grown dragon. Eyes covered in cataracts and mind one with the dragon, Kate rose from the ground with a roar and clamped her teeth around my neck.

I woke covered in cold sweat and couldn’t return to sleep. Something bizarre about the dream niggled at me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. The dream faded to foggy notions.

As the sun rose, beams cut across my face from the back windows. I stretched and the memories of the prior night assailed me, distant and surreal. I made a pot of coffee and some toast, and carried a tray into my bedroom for my wife. Mel enveloped Kate in her arms and Donnie slept beside Mel with his fingers in her hair. I set the tray down and watched them sleep.

Kate’s face still wore a red tint and her shoulders hitched in her sleep. So tiny, so frail, so perfect, the epitome of love, my wife stirred a sense of protectiveness in me. In the morning light, I knew she could never hurt me or bring about a scratch, much less mastermind my gruesome death.

This had to end, now. Determined not to spend another night without my wife beside me, I thumped Donnie’s shoulder and he blinked his eyes sleepily, then closed them again.

“Dude, I need you to take your wife home and let me be with mine,” I whispered.

He nodded without opening his eyes, roused Mel and they tromped toward the door of the room woodenly.

“Thanks for all of this,” I called to him.

He raised his hand briefly, and then let it fall to his side as he closed the door behind them.

Kate rolled over and hid her face under the sheet, not fully awake. I stepped into the bathroom and ran a hot tub full of bubbles. When I came back out, she had curled around a coffee cup in the middle of the bed, still in her bikini. Setting the tray of toast in front of her, I sat beside her. I coaxed her to eat a few bites, before her bottom lip began to quiver. Tears spilled down her cheeks. She set the coffee mug down, pushed the tray away and looked at me, panic stricken.

“I can’t. I won’t. Not ever,” she whispered and crawled into my lap and pressed her palms against my face. “I could never do what they said I did.” She managed to choke out, “You are my Corey.”

“Kate, I don’t need to be convinced. I know you. I know you love me.” I held her to my chest and stroked her smooth back.

She drew in a sharp breath of relief. “I worried you would begin to believe them. I believed them last night, but it’s just not possible.”

“It’s a metaphor or something. That’s all,” I whispered into her hair.

“That’s what Mel said, last night.” She nuzzled into my neck. “But our Scriptorium wasn’t a metaphor, was it? Our wedding felt real.”

“Yes, my love, my wife.” I picked her up in my arms. “We are one flesh.”

She melted against me as I carried her to the bathroom and tucked her into the garden tub of warm bubbles.

I stood in the separate shower and let the warm water wash away the horrible night. When I stepped out of the shower, Kate gave me a tentative smile through the steam, then sank under the bubbles. I let out a huff of relief. Maybe we were going to be okay.

I dressed and met the others in the kitchen where Tara stood with a spatula and a huge stack of flapjacks piled up on a platter. Trip had microwaved bacon and stood beside Tara, peeling the greasy paper towels away. Mel poured a glass of juice and sat down at the table where Dirk and Donnie were already digging in.

I hooked a glass and sat it beside Mel, so she filled it too. “How is she?”

“Raw.”

“I am so sorry. I didn’t want to tell her.” Mel touched my arm.

“I’m sorry, too, but I thought you all needed to know the whole story.” Tara reached over me and set the stack of pancakes in the center of the table. She rested her hand on my shoulder and I reached up and squeezed it.

“We did. You did the right thing. I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“Corey, don’t be sorry. I probably would have been slinging fists if the tables were turned.” She leaned down and kissed me on the cheek.

I froze, mouth hanging open, gaping at the others at the table who stared at Tara as though she were a stranger. Tara never showed affection. I smiled through my shock. She squinted her eyes, an attempted smile, and sat down beside Trip. He resumed the suspended journey of eggs on fork to mouth, watching her. He raised his brows at me as he chewed. The others gradually resumed their breakfast, cutting furtive glances to her.

After a few minutes of strained chewing and light conversation, we resumed our normal breakfast debriefing.

“Mama Ty said the jumps would start after Family Week ended. They are normally suspended during that week anyway.” Dirk followed his statement with a long draw on his orange juice.

“So Saturday we should expect to be ready to jump?” Mel asked, wiping syrup drops from the table.

“I think we should be ready as early as Friday night. The minute the last family leaves we’ll be vulnerable.”

“I don’t understand. If we were already taken on an unsanctioned jump, how can we be sure that another one won’t come right in the middle of three legged races or something?” Donnie wiped his mouth with his napkin.

Kate came out fresh and smelling wonderful. She sat in my lap and poked bites of pancake down me while I tried to listen to the plans, but with every touch and tender gesture between us, my need to be alone with her grew more urgent.