Blessed by a Demon’s Mark (4 page)

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Authors: E. S. Moore

Tags: #Speculative Fiction

BOOK: Blessed by a Demon’s Mark
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I wished I had my weapons on me. Anything could be waiting for me back at the house. I didn’t like going in so unprepared. I hadn’t been gone for just a few days. I’d been gone for months. Anything could have happened in that time.
I reached my driveway and my trepidation increased tenfold. While the cinders and salt continued on down the road, the tire tracks turned into the drive. They looked recent.
I struggled up the hill toward the house. Ice had formed in the tracks and it caused the tires of my Honda to slip. Finally, I gave up and shut off the engine. Besides, the motorcycle made too much noise despite the fact Ethan had modified it so it wasn’t nearly as loud as a normal bike. If it wasn’t Ethan in the house, I didn’t want whoever might be there to know I was coming.
I walked the motorcycle to the side of the road and left it behind a tree. If everything was okay at the house, I’d come back to get it. If not . . . it might not matter where I left it.
I flexed my fingers to loosen them. I’d been gripping the handles of the bike so hard, they’d started to lock up. And the cold didn’t help. It might not bother me as much as it would a Pureblood, but the cold still got to me. Just because I was a vampire didn’t mean I was impervious to the elements.
I kept low as I worked my way up the driveway. I made sure to step in the tire tracks so I wouldn’t leave footprints behind. If someone were to come up the driveway, they might not see the Honda parked behind the tree, and I didn’t want them to know I was there until I was ready for them.
There were lights on in the house and my pulse began to hammer. The light upstairs was faint in Ethan’s bedroom window, as if his door was open and the hall light was on. There were no lights on in the living room, but the TV was on. Its flickering light caused shadows to shift and move as I approached. No one moved within the lights.
I didn’t have my garage door opener on me, but I headed for the garage anyway. I peeked through one of the windows and saw a car parked in my usual spot. The station wagon was beat-up and the paint was peeling. I’d never seen it before in my life.
Everything else in the garage was the same. I gave the car one last hard look before turning toward the house.
I could just make out faint footprints leading from the house to the driveway. I couldn’t tell if they were a day old or only a few hours. I was pretty sure they meant someone else had been here in another car at some point.
I slid up along the side of the house and peered in through the window to the living room. The heavy drapes Ethan had installed were closed, making seeing anything inside impossible. I could just make out the glow of the television through them.
I moved to the front door and gingerly touched the doorbell box. The front door appeared to be the same as when I left it, but someone could have changed the locks; I wouldn’t know until I tried to get in. I ran my finger under the box and found the tiny switch beneath. I pressed it so I could lift the doorbell, exposing the fingerprint reader Ethan had installed months ago. I ran my finger down it and was rewarded with the sound of the door unlocking.
I waited a moment to see if anyone inside had heard, but if they had, they didn’t come charging at the door. I licked my lips, wishing I had as good of a nose as a werewolf. It would make my life a whole hell of a lot easier if I could sniff out who might be inside.
I held my breath as I turned the doorknob. It barely made a sound as I turned it all the way. I waited a heartbeat before throwing the door open.
Warm air blew over me as I burst through the doorway. I spun to look over the half wall that separated the living room from the entryway, toward the TV where I fully expected to find a stranger waiting.
There was a blur of movement as someone leaped to their feet from where they’d been lying on the couch. He spun to face me, eyes instantly turning a feral yellow. He started to bare his teeth before his face froze in surprise.
No, it definitely wasn’t Ethan.
It was a werewolf.
4
“Where is he?” I snarled, stepping around the half wall. While I didn’t have my weapons, I did have my teeth and hands, which could be deadly enough. If it wasn’t a wolf I was facing, it would have been more than enough.
The feral yellow eyes studied me for a second before bleeding back to pale blue.
I knew the werewolf, though that didn’t mean I had to like him. Jeremy Lincoln had jumped me one night after I left The Bloody Stake. He’d thought I would be a challenging snack. He was quick to learn I was much more challenging than he expected.
After I scared him to near starvation, the Luna Cult took him in. I was reprimanded for what I did to him, but hey, if I hadn’t stepped in, who knew where the wolf would be today. He probably would have ended up dead or under the control of a vampire house somewhere. I’d helped him in my own little way.
Of course, knowing me is a hazard all in itself. He’d helped capture my brother and nearly died in the process. Thomas had come in with a pack of his Tainted and nearly tore the arm off the kid’s shoulder before the rest of us were able to take control of the scene.
My eyes flickered to the empty sleeve where Jeremy’s arm should have been. He’d been taken to Doctor Lei in the hopes his arm could be saved. It appeared her attempts had been unsuccessful.
“Where’s Ethan?” I asked, pushing back the pity that tried to slip past my anger. I couldn’t feel sorry for the wolf who might have killed my friend.
Blood dripped from my lip where my fangs had pushed through the gums. I took a slow step forward, ready to tear him apart with my bare hands. If I’d had my weapons on me, he’d have been dead already.
“He’s fine,” Jeremy said. His eyes traveled to the stairs behind me, but I kept my gaze locked on him. There was no way I was going to glance back, giving him a chance to make a move. One armed or not, he was still a werewolf.
I stalked into the living room and looked around. The TV was tuned to some reality show with a bunch of half-naked guys and girls lying around a beach. The sound was turned so low only a wolf could hear it. I didn’t need to hear it to know he wasn’t watching for the dialogue.
A rumpled blanket and a pillow lay on the couch. A large bowl with a few popcorn kernels in it sat within easy reach. A glass sat on either end table, one empty, the other almost full. Neither was on a coaster, and for some reason that only pissed me off more.
“Did you kill him?” My gaze traveled back to the young werewolf. What the fuck was he doing in my house? His hair was sticking straight up on one side from where he’d been lying down. He had probably been dozing since he hadn’t heard me approaching.
Jeremy backed up to the window. He glanced behind him and for a second, I was sure he would try to leap through it.
“No,” he said, turning back to me.
“Did you think you could just move in and take over the house once he was gone?” I prodded, my anger growing. This was
my
house. Just because I’d been gone for a few months didn’t mean the monsters could start moving in.
“I didn’t touch him,” he said. He was looking more and more nervous by the second. He glanced toward the stairs and nodded toward them. “I’m sure he’ll be down in a minute.”
A rumble built in my throat. I took a threatening step forward and bared my fangs. It had been so long since I’d killed anyone, the urge was taking me over. In Delai, Levi had kept me calm. Here, I didn’t have his influence. Right then, it felt like every last urge I’d suppressed in the small town had come roaring back, slamming into me like a train. All I wanted to do was kill, to avenge Ethan, my brother, anyone who had died because I’d been too weak to save them.
Jeremy didn’t run; I had to give him that. He stood his ground, shirt skewed to one side. His sole arm was held out in front of him, fingers splayed as if he thought it would ward me off.
My muscles tensed, ready to spring. If I couldn’t take a one-armed wolf, then I didn’t deserve to live anyway. Why else would he be here if Ethan wasn’t dead and gone?
“Kat?”
Ethan’s voice stopped me before I could attack. I’d been so sure the wolf had done something to him, I didn’t truly believe it was his voice I heard at first. I turned slowly, keeping myself placed so I could keep an eye on the wolf.
Ethan stood at the bottom of the stairs wearing pajama bottoms, a dirty Superman T-shirt, and socks that had started to turn brown. He had a toothbrush in his hand and he had foam in the corners of his mouth.
A sudden gush of emotion rolled over me. I forgot about the wolf, something I would have never done if I’d been on my game. His hair was disheveled, but otherwise, he looked complete and whole, undamaged by the wolf I’d just about killed.
“Holy crap,” he said, coming the rest of the way into the room. “I thought I heard your voice.” He licked the foam from the corner of his mouth and swallowed it. “I thought you were dead.”
I staggered toward him, surprised by how much I really had missed him. The sight of Ethan alive had me just about in tears. He was like family to me—
was
family for all intents and purposes. I never should have left him alone for so long.
Ethan rushed across the short distance between us and threw his arms around me. I stood stiff against him, unsure what to do. I was afraid if I hugged him back, I would squeeze him in half. Tears filled my eyes and I fought hard to keep them at bay. I so didn’t need to be crying in front of him, especially with the werewolf watching us.
I settled on patting him on the back with one hand, leaving the other to hang dead at my side. I had no idea why I’d been so sure Jeremy had killed him. I mean, the wolf had helped me with my brother. Other than that first night we’d met, he’d done nothing but try to be helpful.
Ethan stepped back and the joy in his face faded, only to be replaced by anger. “Where have you been?” he demanded, shaking his toothbrush at me. “I was certain you’d been killed. Do you know how hard it’s been here without you?”
“I’m sorry,” I said, and I meant it.
He grunted and turned away. He took a shuddering breath, and I knew without seeing his face that he was crying. Ethan wasn’t just important to me.
I
was important to him too. I was his only family. Count Valentino had killed both our families. It was the reason we’d ended up living together. Two broken people who had drifted together, hoping the other could fill the void left behind by those who were murdered.
And I’d abandoned him. I was all he had in this world, aside from the demon, and I’d left him to fend for himself. I felt awful.
The sound of something moving behind me reminded me Jeremy was still here. I spun around to face him, my guilt being replaced by anger. “Why is he here?” I asked. A growl entered my voice, something I hadn’t quite intended.
Jeremy immediately stopped moving and raised his hand. He looked from me to Ethan and back again. He wisely kept his mouth shut. If he had tried to explain himself, I might have leaped at him.
“He’s here doing what you haven’t been,” Ethan said. The bitterness in his tone caused me to turn back to face him. “He’s protecting me.”
“From what?” I didn’t know if I should be pissed or happy that someone had decided to watch over Ethan in my absence. It was stupid, really. I should have thanked Jeremy, but I couldn’t help but feel as if I’d been replaced.
Anger warred with relief and confusion. I wasn’t sure what to think, whom to be mad at. It was as if my emotions had gone haywire, pushing me from one end of the spectrum to the other with the slightest of provocations.
“From everything.” Ethan picked up the glass on the end table nearest him and downed it. His hand was shaking bad enough he spilled some down his chin. “When I came back and you were gone, I didn’t know what to do. I panicked.”
“But him?” I jerked a thumb at the werewolf. “Why him?”
“Because that’s who Jonathan sent.”
Jonathan. The name filled me with both anger and longing. Part of me wanted to see the Luna Cult Denmaster, to make sure he was okay. He’d been cut by one of my swords, cut by my brother in a mindless rage. He could have died that night. He’d only wanted to protect me.
But another part of me hated Jonathan for what he
didn’t
do. He didn’t save my brother. He’d fought him, nearly got killed by him, forcing me to act. He might not have pulled the trigger, but because of his actions, I had.
My brother was dead because of him. Part of me knew I was shifting the blame, but I couldn’t help it. I’d blamed myself for so long, I wasn’t even sure whose fault it really was anymore. Maybe if Jonathan hadn’t arrived that night, things would have gone differently. Maybe if he’d shown up earlier . . .
Bitterness filled my mouth and I wanted to spit. I didn’t care whose fault it was. Thomas was dead. Anyone who had a hand in it, no matter how indirectly, deserved some of the blame.
“Look,” Ethan said. He sat down on the couch, though I noticed he sat on the edge as if he was afraid I might lunge at him. “It was hard enough for me figure out where to take your friend. He managed to talk enough to tell me where to go. The woman he had me take him to had only half a face.” He shuddered.
Doctor Lei. I’d met her once. She’d sewn me up after my first run-in with Thomas left me with a major gash on my back and a few minor cuts here and there. I still had the scars, but at least I’d survived. It could have been a lot worse.
“Once she got him inside, she called someone to take me home.” He was starting to sweat, as if the memory of leaving the house was making him nervous. His agoraphobia could get pretty bad sometimes, and I was sure it had been at its worst that night.
“Driving there was bad enough,” he went on. “I don’t think I would have made it home without freaking out. She gave me something to calm me down, and some big dude drove me home. When you weren’t here to take me in, he got pretty mad.”
The only “big dude” I could think of that Doctor Lei might have called would be Nathan LaFoe, Jonathan’s second.
I’m not sure if I was thankful to Nathan or not. If he drove Ethan home, that meant he knew where I lived. I wondered how many in the Cult were privy to that information these days.
“He was back the next day, though he wasn’t happy about it.” Ethan was playing with his fingers, agitated. “He never told me his name, never even talked to me, but at least he made me feel safe.” He allowed himself a small smile. “Well, sort of safe. Guy was scary.”
And a werewolf. I didn’t know if he made that fact known to Ethan or not. I tried to remember who all Ethan had met. I was pretty sure only Jonathan had been to the house before, but I couldn’t be positive. So much had happened in such a short amount of time, my memory was fuzzy.
I eased down onto the couch beside Ethan. My hands were shaking and I had to clench my fists to make them stop. Jeremy relaxed a bit by the window but didn’t move, didn’t speak. He only watched, his face impassive.
“So, anyway,” Ethan said, “one day the big guy didn’t show up. Jonathan came instead and brought Jeremy with him. He told me Jeremy would stay here with me until you returned. I think by then we all thought you were dead.”
The bitterness returned, but I kept my mouth shut. If I only would have stayed home, none of this would have happened. Too many people knew where I lived now. I didn’t care that they’d helped me on more than one occasion. They were werewolves, and that meant they were dangerous.
“He’s stopped by a few times to check for you, Kat.” Ethan slid a little closer and rested a hand on my wrist. I flinched but didn’t pull away. “He never came out and said it, but it’s clear he really does care about you.”
“Fuck him,” I said, shooting off the couch. I didn’t want to think about Jonathan, not for a long time.
Everyone went silent. I kept my back to the room, afraid of what I’d see when I turned around. I couldn’t bear to see their pity or their anger at how I was acting. I’d been a fool. I knew that more than anyone.
“I could leave,” Jeremy said at a near whisper.
“Yes.”
“No.”
Ethan and I spoke at the same time.
“Kat, he’s here because you weren’t. I sort of gave him the spare room.”
I turned, anger flaring. “You what?” I took a step forward that was a little too threatening for Ethan’s liking. He quickly stood and stepped around the side of the couch.
“He needed a place to stay. I wasn’t going to force him to sleep on the couch or give him your room or anything. It was the right thing to do.”
“Ethan,” I growled, growing angrier by the second. “You are letting a fucking werewolf live with you? In
my
house?”
“It’s no different than when I was living with a vampire,” he said, moving behind the couch. “He hasn’t threatened me or looked at me like he wanted to eat me or anything.”
I froze, realization creeping in. I was stalking him, threatening him. I looked down at myself, at my closed fists, at my stance, and hated myself for what I’d become. I was letting my emotions get the better of me.

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