Page 26 of Kept 4
‘Why? Why must he do this? And why oh why could I not stop reading?’
New Entry
Gerald phoned tonight, which was a relief, as I hadn’t heard from him since the night Josephine left.
He called to tell me Margarita had died, and to ask if I would join him once more, to find the Hunters, whom he is sure did the deed.
“Are you sure she is dead?” I asked, after a heavy silence.
“I’m sure I don’t have to explain the Kept bond to you,” he sighed.
“No.”
I was quiet for a moment, but the silence seemed to extend.
Finally, I voiced my thoughts, let him get angry, let him hang up, he needed to hear my opinions as he once did, freely and without rancour. It seems that for so long, we have bickered, ever since I lost my journal, in fact.
“Gerald it seems to me, at least it has done over the past few centuries,” I throw some sarcasm to lend weight to the last word, “that you rarely, if ever, let your Kepts out of your sight. How is it that you lost your latest one?
“I didn’t lose her,” he growled, “I sent her on an errand, and she didn’t return.”
“I see. Sent her where?”
He was quiet for a moment.
“France. But it was meant to be just a quick day trip. Knowing Margarita, she probably went clothes or shoe shopping and somehow crossed the path of the hunters.”
“But, Gerald,” I laughed, “you can’t tell me you are truly upset, you were tired of her, you said so yourself.”
“That doesn’t give anyone the right to kill her, but me,” he said, and I heard a glass bang down in the background. Clearly, he was drinking again.
“True,” I sighed, “we can’t have that lore breached by Hunters or anyone else for that matter. Kepts are sacrosanct – they are killed only by their masters. It has always been this way.”
“Yes,” he said then, more firmly, “I knew you would understand. Speaking of Kepts, I don’t suppose you have Josephine’s phone traced and tapped?”
“Good Lord, why would I do that?” I snorted.
The thought of taking such a liberty, of invading a Kept’s privacy, is abhorrent to me. It is so totally unwarranted, especially given their usual obsequious surrender in all matters to their Master, as was the case too, with Margarita.
I’m frankly shocked Gerald would think of such a thing.
“I had Margarita’s traced,” he went on, unaware of my inner turmoil, “but the Hunters were smart enough to destroy it. Otherwise, I could have found her body, I suppose.”
“I don’t want to know where Josephine is,” I frowned into the phone, “we agreed to part. She is safe and content; I feel that, and that is enough for me.”
“Indeed,” Gerald drawls, “but she still has her phone? You can still contact her?”
“Yes,” I frowned, “but I am resolved not to.”
I heard Gerald pour himself another drink.
“All that aside. We leave the day after tomorrow,” he said, swallowing. “I have a lead on some hunters holed up in Germany.”
“Gerald,” I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see me, “I have other fish to fry.”
“For Christ’s sake, Nicholas,” he spat, “don’t tell me you are still considering chasing Elsbeth. You know even if you find her, she will rip you apart – think clearly for once. She is three times your age and strength.”
I did think through what he said, quite clearly, as he enunciated his long-winded lecture, which continued for so long I simply wasn’t listening well enough to recount it here.
