Heather Graham - The Keepers - Christmas in Salem

Ogden had been arrested during the witch craze, but when the governor disbanded the first court and refused to allow spectral evidence, he had been judged innocent. Luckily he’d had the money to pay for his time in jail and his chains, and he had lived another forty years.

“Ogden,” she said, smiling.

“Merry Christmas Eve,” he told her, and smiled back. She felt the cold touch of his fingers on her cheeks. “Dear girl, what are you doing running around in the cemetery? You should be getting ready for your annual gala.”

“Ogden … I have to find one of my charges. August Avery. He bit someone, and I’m worried that he … The darkness … Oh, never mind.”

“Oh, dear! That’s certainly a shock. And on Christmas Eve.” Ogden had long, curling gray hair that gave him a dignified look beneath his hat. He wore a handsome frockcoat and carried a cane. He looked at her curiously. “Were you saying you think this fellow has something to do with the darkness? Doesn’t seem like something a vampire could manage.”

“I don’t know, Ogden. I know we all have to worry about it, though. And I know that I have to find him before he bites someone else.”

“He was here,” Ogden said.

“He was? But he’s gone now?”

Ogden nodded somberly. “He came through, sat on a grave, cried like a baby—then hopped up and jumped the fence down to the street. I tried to talk to him, but you know how it is. People don’t hear me or see me unless they choose to.”

“Thank you, Ogden. Thank you so much.”

“I’ll see you later—I love to slip into your house during the party. And don’t worry—I won’t materialize and scare anyone, I promise. I just love all the love that fills the house when you have everyone over.”

“You’re always welcome,” Sam assured him.

She went into vampire mode to give herself added strength and speed, grateful for her Keeper ability to take on the characteristics of her charges, then leaped over the fence and raced down the street. Dead Horse Beach was a fair way off; she had to hurry if she was going to get there in time to prevent further trouble.

She ran past the crowds still thronging the streets, past the brewery where the Christmas celebrations seemed to be in full swing. She raced by one of her favorite tourist attractions: a popular museum housing an array of movie monsters.

But she couldn’t pause to think about the things she loved about Salem. She couldn’t even pause to think about the words that Ogden had spoken: that he loved the love that filled her house on Christmas Eve.

Those words made her think about Father Mulroney, too.

Light burns from within.

Well, her light didn’t seem to be shining very brightly anymore.

She realized she probably should have taken her car if she didn’t want to be noticed because a woman racing down the street as if the hounds of hell were at her heels didn’t really blend into the crowd. Once she made it out of the busy tourist area, she slipped behind a tree and emerged as a bat, which would certainly raise a lot less notice than her other available option: a wolf.

At one time, Dead Horse Beach had been well beyond the residential area and, legend had it, people would therefore use it to bury their dead horses. Eventually it became known as Dead Horse Beach—a strange name for a beautiful little spot of land. It offered a view to the northwest, making it a popular place to watch sunsets in the summer.

In winter …

In winter it was a cold stretch of sand near Willows Park, fringed by the skeletal brush and trees of winter, frigidly cold when the night wind blew.

Sam gauged her abilities as she flew. She didn’t change often, and her sonar wasn’t good. Near the House of the Seven Gables, she swooped low. Something was going on at the property—something that created a burst of light against the darkness.

A holiday bonfire surrounded by laughing partygoers.

Salem residents were a resilient lot. They would have their holiday parties no matter what.

She was glad of that. Concentrating, she lifted herself higher into the sky. She passed over residential streets and out where the houses thinned out, and soon she was soaring above Willows Park and wishing that she could smile as she heard the laughter of children. There was snow on the ground, and the air was crisp and cool, but it wasn’t a bad night for winter. This year they even had the 1866 carousel up and running, and the children loved it.

She got to the beach at last and made an awkward pitched landing on the frosty sand as she shifted back into human form and stumbled to her feet. She saw someone standing in about a foot of ice-cold water.

“August! August Avery, what in the world are you doing?” she called to him.

He looked back at her.

It was a day with no sun, and the moon had yet to rise in the sky over the gray clouds of winter. From a distance, Christmas lights twinkled as if they were colorful little rays of hope.

“Sam!” he said. “Sam, I’m sorry.”

Then he turned and continued walking into the icy sea.

Sam rushed into the water. It hit her flesh like a wave of knives, it was so icy cold. “August!” she shouted again as the salty spray shot up over her face and onto her lips.

She struggled to keep her footing. The waves were vicious. She was still in the shallows, but the swells threatened to bring her down.

She wondered how long it would take for hypothermia to set in.

“August!” Despite the spray of frigid salt water that stung her lips, she kept calling him. She couldn’t see him. He must have gone into the water. Then, twenty feet away, a head popped up.

August Avery was dead set on drowning himself. She allowed herself a small grim smile at the pun.

She plunged after him, her heart thundering. She couldn’t let him die.

She could have sworn she heard the distant sound of her plastic Santa singing.

“Oh, holy night …”

Nearly too late!

Daniel Riverton had seen the news and recognized August, and he’d done some investigating among the kid’s friends and found out about the breakup. He’d even found the girl who had ditched August, and frankly, he hadn’t been impressed.

Her name was Ciara Mullins, and she’d been sulky and rather full of herself when he found her hanging out with a group of her friends. A pretty thing, yes, but vacant and empty, and not in the least concerned with anyone else. The great thing about being a vampire was that he could look at her, capture her gaze with his own and get anything out of her that he wanted, silently compelling her to tell the truth.

She was convinced that she was just passing time in college, getting a degree only to mollify her parents. When she graduated she was going to head to New York City, where she would walk around in Times Square until she was discovered. Agents and directors would flock to her, of course. She was beautiful.

If the situation hadn’t been so serious, he would have found it all a bit amusing, because she was speaking honestly, compelled by his will and demand for the truth. When she finally finished speaking about herself, she went on to August Avery.

He was very cute, she admitted. He had something. Some kind of mystique. But she was above a relationship with anyone in Salem. The world was waiting for her. And he was such a silly boy. He loved to go on long walks at Dead Horse Beach—even in the middle of winter.

Daniel left Ciara in the midst of her friends, who were all staring at her, stunned and appalled.

He didn’t feel guilty that he’d forced her to bare her soul. Her soul could use some help, which just might come her way now in the form of a serious wakeup call from her friends.