"It's okay," Harrison assured me, reaching out a hand and touching my arm. The touch was unexpected but I didn't feel frightened; instead, his fingers resting lightly on my arm warmed me.
Looking up into Harrison's older and wiser eyes gave me a human aspect into his soul that I had yet to see with the Keepers. Was this what made him good at reaching out to others? The 'human' part of him that allowed him to care like the other Keepers were seemingly unable to?
"What will happen to him?" I asked breathlessly. His fingers dropped from my arm.
He spent a few moments studying the sleeping form of Dean before he gave me his attention.
"He will be killed."
It was hard not to allow his words to shake me to the core. There was no plan, no way out, but I couldn't let that happen. Somehow there had to be a way to get both of us out here.
"Why wasn't he killed straight away?" I asked, allowing my curiosity to take over.
I remembered what the guards had told Claire when they had evacuated her back to the compound. There had been a few murders and Flynn had killed the rogue that had attacked me.
As far as I knew, Dean was the only one they had kept alive.
"He is going to give us information on rogues that are still in the area," he explained.
I looked back to the peaceful sleeping figure of Dean. Did he even know any other rogues? It was more than a little unbelievable. Or had he told them that to buy himself some time?
"How can you pick out a rogue from a werewolf who belongs to a pack?" I asked, needing to know if they made mistakes.
"Every Keeper is trained to sense the difference."
I frowned slightly. I couldn't. The heat on my marker was the same with every werewolf.
"How?" I asked, knowing I was pushing my curiosity a little far but I had to know.
"All Keepers are born with a sensor located at the back of their neck." I had to resist the urge to touch mine. "When a werewolf is around, it heats up. Rogues tend to be the lawbreakers, so it's crucial for Keepers to be able to weed them out."
That I knew already.
"But when they pick up a rogue, it's hotter than usual."
It was something I had never realized before. I wondered if it was something I could sense. Granted, I had spent most of my life trying to suppress my Keeper's senses, but maybe it would have been different if I had embraced them.
"How old are you, Crystal?" Harrison asked, suddenly changing the subject.
"Seventeen," I answered, unable to look directly into his eyes. It was like he was looking deeper than the surface and I was scared at what he would discover.
"Where do your parents live?" was his next question. Why was he asking that?
"On the outskirts of town." In my mind I had already picked the house I would tell the Keepers was my home, but I held off mentioning the house number or street name. I hadn't thought out the logistics or how it was going to work if they insisted on seeing me into the house. That could create a problem.
But there were still so many things that could go wrong and I was concentrating on the current problems I had and not the future ones that I would have later.
The way he was looking at me started to make me feel a little self-conscious. I touched a hand to my hair.
"What?" I asked, feeling like he was seeing more than I wanted him to see.
"You...remind me of someone," he said softly. In his eyes was the most emotion I had ever seen a Keeper display. They looked at me with the experience of the truest love and loss. It proved that not all Keepers were unable to form normal emotions that werewolves and humans did.
"I'm sorry," I said, trying to comfort him in some way. I didn't venture a hug but I reached a hand out to rest on his arm.
"It was a long time ago...a lifetime."
But I saw that not even forever would dull the grief I could see in his eyes.
