Read Online The Vampire Keeper by Sabrina Street - Free Book Online Page B

Larkin was an old friend who would be staying with them for awhile. Although she had quietly listened to her husband relate the incident, but when he paused for a moment, Ana’s sense of calamity fade as a gritting response rang in his ear. “He did what? Why?”
    “I don’t know. I expressed our concern, but he told me not to worry; it was all under control. He must still be trying to decide what to do with her.”
    “That is why I called. I thought of a plan to get us out of this situation without Jezalyn having to die.”
    “You did!” exclaimed Wyler being caught off guard by his wife’s proactive measures to keep Jezalyn out of harm’s way.
    “Don’t say no until you hear me out.”
    “Okay. What is it?”
    “What if we turn her into a Keeper? I think she could be helpful with Julius and we can go back to aiding only one vampire. And, the best part is she won’t have to die. ”
    “I don’t think that will work,” replied Wyler.
    “Why not? All we have to do is give her one of our cups of special tea,” countered Ana.
    “It’s not that simple, my dear.”
    “Why not? All I had to do was drink! Didn’t you?”
    Wyler made no response as he pondered Ana’s later question and the event that led to his present position as Larkin’s Keeper: Wyler’s release from General Cornwallis was not the last time he would ever use his medical skills as he had hoped. Many battles ensued between patriot-loyalist mercenaries. He patched up the injured, regardless of distinction, for food and shelter before continuing southward. As he traveled closer to home, he encountered several brutal aftermaths. On one occasion, after stitching up bullet holes and bayonet injuries, he took lodging at a nearby abandoned house. He was exhausted from the sweltering heat, arduous amputations, and disheartening deaths. He did not notice the stench of blood that lingered on him as he curled up on an old porch swing that now sat in what once appeared to be a grand sitting room.
    After a few hours, he awoke to find a tall figure lingering over him. He jumped back and exclaimed, “What do you want? Who are you?”
    “A stray musket ball hit me. I can’t reach it; it’s lodged in-between my shoulders. I need you to remove it,” requested the stranger.
    Wyler had enough experience patching up soldiers to grant his request, so he grabbed his bag and silently walked into the kitchen. “Lie down,” demanded the surgeon as he ran out the back to pump a pail of water. Without hesitation, the stranger did as he requested. Wyler returned to find him shirtless lying on his stomach. A short candle flickered in the dark reflecting a long image of a small knife and a pair of long tong-like tweezers moving towards the convalescent’s back.
    “You might want to bear down on something,” insisted Wyler as he prepared to open the wound.
    “Just get on with it,” replied the patient without hesitation.
    After making a larger incision directly over the hole where the bullet had entered, the stranger did not cry out. He only made a few grunting sounds as Wyler took his fingers and pulled against the sliced tissue to widen the hole. As he dug between his shoulder blades searching for the metal ball, Wyler thought, I have never seen so much blood. He poured some water onto his back so that he could get a better view to insert the tweezers and removed the bullet.
    Once the bullet was removed, he placed an old dirty rag on the wound and threaded a needle. The rag was quickly saturated and Wyler was getting nervous that he might soon lose his patient from exsanguination. With his needle now threaded, he lifted the rag and blood gushed everywhere. He quickly clenched his teeth down on the threaded needle and gripped the separated skin closed with both hands.
    The patient heard his surgeon’s breaths become short and fast, so he spoke. “Calm down. Take a deep breath. You’re almost done. You already got the ball out; I felt it leave my body. All