The Soulkeepers Read Free Page B

Laudners
driveway, kicking up snow as he went. Heart hammering, and breath
coming in huffs, Jacob could feel the bruise on his chest ache by
the time he reached the door. It was locked.
    At first he panicked, lifting his fist to
pound on the door. But then the warm light from the kitchen window
caught his eye. Knocking would mean admitting he'd snuck out. From
the safety of the porch, he looked back toward the street. Snow
swirled over the pavement. Clearly the ripple was a trick of the
moonlight. Of course it was. The memory wasn't real. It was a
product of his damaged brain.
    He took a deep breath and walked around the
porch to the patch of yard beneath his window. A rose lattice ran
the length of the wall. Good enough.
    The icy wood was barely tenable but he dug
his toes between the slats and climbed, gripping with throbbing
cold fingers. When he reached his window he flattened his palm
against the glass and pushed up with everything he had. The window
opened with a bark and Jacob slid between the lace curtains,
walking his hands across the rose-colored shag carpeting until his
legs could fit through. As quietly as possible, he closed the
window behind him and flopped onto the floral wingback chair.
    Everything in his room was old lady pink.
John's Aunt Veronica had lived there before they put her into a
retirement home. John said he'd fix it up for Jacob some day but
until then, he had a pink room.
    Jacob removed his jacket and moved toward
the bed, ready to call it a night. That was when he heard the
voices.
    "John, I think this was a mistake. The boy
is weird. He's not settling in. He's not like us." The voice was
Carolyn's. It was a hushed tone coming from the vent on the south
wall. Jacob crouched in front of the steel grate and listened. The
position of the vent must have been just right to conduct her
whisper to him. By the placement of the pink room, he assumed it
connected to the kitchen.
    "It's too late now Carolyn. He's not a dog.
I can't return him to the store," John said.
    "I know. I'm just worried. What if he
gets…violent?"
    "Violent?"
    "You know darn well what I mean, John. His
people…"
    "I do, Carolyn, but he's also our people.
You know as well as I do that this boy is the last chance for our
family. Hell, he doesn't even look…"
    "He doesn't look German either."
    "He is the last and only remaining Laudner
heir. If we can't make this work, the most we can hope for…" John
paused and Jacob leaned in toward the grate. "Over one hundred and
fifty years of Laudner history will be lost. I can't let that
happen. We can't let that happen."
    "But what if he turns out like them?"
Carolyn whispered.
    "Jacob is young. We can raise him up
right."
    "It's a nice thought, but copper will never
be gold, no matter how much you shine it. There are other
ways…Katrina?"
    "Katrina isn't a male heir. You know the
rules. Besides, Jacob is my brother's son. Don't tell me you
haven't looked into that boy's eyes and seen Charlie's staring back
at you."
    "Well, yes, I suppose so."
    "As sure as I am sitting here I am going to
get to know that boy. I am not losing him the way I lost
Charlie."
    "John, he may look like Charlie but he's not
Charlie. You can chase ghosts all you want but that ship has
sailed."
    "He's my nephew, Carolyn," John's voice
strained to stay a whisper. "He's here to stay."
    After a long pause, he heard a chair slide
back from the table. "Then I guess there's nothing more to
discuss," Carolyn said.
    Jacob waited, ears trained on the vent.
Silence. With a heavy sigh, he moved back towards the window,
folding himself into the floral wingback. The conversation rolled
through his head like a freight train.
    Carolyn didn't want him here, that was for
sure, but what was all that about being the last Laudner heir? What
about Katrina? John had said something about a male heir. Jacob
knew Paris was a small town, old fashioned even, but since when did
women not inherit property? Certainly they didn't expect him