Seventh Mark (Part 1 +2) (21 page)

“Come.” Sarah
put her arm around his shoulder. “Let’s put the powder out in the
wind.”

Seth followed
her and Grace out of the room to the front door.

Michael quietly
walked over to me and held me tight. His warm lips grazed the top
of my head. I leaned my body into his for support. It had been a
crazy night – too much for my human eyes.

Beams of
sunlight poured through the windows, shooting tiny rainbows on
every wall in the room. I stretched, my mood brightening at the
sign of the sun that had been hiding for what seemed like forever.
Sitting, the corners of my mouth pulled down at the amount of snow
on the ground.
At least the new layer hides the dirty snow, and
the bright blue sky meant the sun will do its job. It’s going to be
a good day.

Michael stirred
beside me and rolled so his head rested on my pillow and his body
curved around me. My hand reached out to let my fingers sink into
the thick blonde hair and enjoy its softness. He looked like his
Greek god-self and I suddenly felt self-conscious. After raising
himself up on an elbow, he leaned over and kissed me.

“Hmm. Mornin’.”
I couldn’t stop my eyes from wandering down his bare torso – all
that smooth, tanned skin over lean, taut muscles.

He raised an
eyebrow and grinned. “Want me to put a shirt on?”

No! Maybe. “Do
you need to head back to the house and check on Seth? I need a
shower and grab breakfast. I can meet you over there.” I knew he
had a lot on his mind, and I was sure he wanted to talk to
Caleb.

“I can wait.”
He looked like he meant what he said, but he also seemed like he
wanted to go.

“Go. You don’t
need me tagging along.” I needed a bit of on-my-own time as well.
“You must have important things to discuss. You're Caleb’s
understudy.”
Long before I even existed
. “He needs you.”

He sighed. “I
guess you’re right. Caleb’s probably wearing a path in the carpet
of his office. He was quite out of sorts last night.” He stood and
strolled over to a duffle bag I hadn’t noticed laying by the
bathroom.

“Does that…
happen often?”

He shrugged.
“Patience isn’t his strong point. I pushed the wrong buttons and I
know better.” He disappeared into the bathroom.

I bit my tongue
to hold back my thoughts.
You shouldn’t be taking the blame
.
Caleb needs someone to put him in his place, and not just with
words...
I blinked in surprise at my own thoughts, but couldn’t
stop them.
And Michael’s the only one who could do it.
I
forced myself to sit and stare out the window, willing my brain to
stop.

Ten minutes
later, Michael came out of the bathroom dressed and with a quick
peck to my cheek, he headed out the door.

The pool house
felt suddenly empty with him gone, so I got up, made the bed and
then hopped into the shower. I stood under the jet stream of hot
water and closed my eyes.

How did Liza
get the Grollic book?
She’d closed shop and headed south for
the winter so I’d get no answers from her till spring. Another
thought bothered me about the book: why would Grollics write a book
about their weakness, add anatomy and diagram it all? I couldn’t
imagine Caleb having a book like this written on his kind.
If it
ever fell into the wrong hands…
I shivered at the possible
unknown danger Michael could become vulnerable to.

I grabbed the
shower handle and slammed it off.
Too bad I can’t read the rest
of the book.
Maybe it would explained why or give more insight
into who bloomin’ wrote it.

I stepped out
of the shower too frustrated to dry off properly or blow dry my
hair. I dressed quickly and shoved my hair into a bun.

Michael must
have come back while I was in the bathroom. By the door was a red
winter coat and a quick scrawled note.
Grace found this in her
closet. See you soon, M

Outside, I
zipped my new coat and followed a newly shovelled path, courtesy of
Michael, to the house. Even with the sun shining, I had to pull my
coat tightly around me and quicken my step. I should have gone back
to the pool house to grab a hat to cover my wet head, but I
couldn’t be bothered. By the time I got to the back door, my hair
had frozen in the bun.

As I stepped
into the quiet, empty kitchen, I strained to catch any conversation
going on in the living room. Nothing. They were probably all in the
study.
Sound-proofing walls.
I hung my coat on the back of a
chair and put my shoes beside Michael’s. Grace appeared in the
doorway, hands in the pockets of her jeans. Her green top seemed to
make her eyes an even brighter blue.

“Want some
coffee?” She walked toward the counter. “I think Michael just made
a pot.”

I hesitated.
“Umm… No thanks.”

She raised her
eyebrows.

Ah, screw
it.
“Michael makes the most terrible coffee. It tastes like
tar.” I grimaced still remembering the taste from the last
time.

Grace tried to
suppress a giggle but with no success. She went and got fresh
coffee out of the cupboard. Without saying a word, she handed me
the container and then emptied the three-quarter full pot into the
sink, and refilled it with fresh water. “You know, Michael was a
terrible cook when we were alive. My mother and I never let him in
the kitchen. One year, he tried catching, killing and cooking a
turkey for Easter.”

“I don’t even
want to imagine. Poor bird.”

“Poor us.”
Grace grabbed her stomach and pretended to gag.

Glancing around
the room, and leaning over to sneak a peek into the living room, I
stopped short. “What happened?”

All the
furniture had been pushed to one corner and stacked on top of each
other. The original old pine boards reflected off the floor,
emphasizing the missing white carpet.

“We couldn’t
get all of Seth’s blood out, and it drove Sarah crazy. She pulled
it up last night and left about half an hour ago to buy a new one.
Knowing her, she’ll haggle with some sales guy and have everything
in before dinner.”

“How's Seth
doing?” I kicked myself for not asking about him first.

“Physically
he’s completely fine. Like nothing happened. Emotionally, he’s a
mess without Tatiana, but you know how Seth acts… he keeps going on
about being able to play the field and enjoy some – and multiple –
female company for a change. Just his way of covering up, I guess.
He mentioned his understudy may come down tomorrow after the
meeting.

“Meeting?”

“Sorry, I
forgot you missed the rest of the conversation last night. The
Higher Coven is meeting tomorrow to decide what to do with the
Grollic situation here. Caleb wants things cleared up ASAP. Seth’s
considering bringing his understudy back here with him to help with
the fight.” She swallowed, then stared at her fingernails.
“Everyone’s thinking the situation is bigger than we think,
especially since they killed Tatiana and nearly got Seth.”

A fleeting
thought of my birthday came and went. Eighteen had seemed so
monumental to me, all my freedom wrapped in two digits. It didn’t
represent anything now.

As if reading
my thoughts, Grace said, “They aren’t leaving till noon. Your
cake’s still on.”

Mortified at
the thought of Grace telling Michael, while Caleb stood in the
room, about doing something for my birthday, I nearly bolted for
the back door. “Please don’t do anything. It's just another day,
and honestly, I'm not big on birthdays.”

“Nonsense! You
deserve a little celebration.”

“Please
don’t.”

She paused, a
silly grin on her face. “I'll just tell Michael to make you
breakfast in bed.”

“After the kind
of cook you just told me he is? Great. The guy’s probably going to
squeeze the crap out of a chicken in order to get a few eggs to
scramble.”

Seth came into
the kitchen. “Fantastic morning, ladies! It's even more lovely now
that you two have entertained my thoughts and given me something to
feast upon!”

I looked up at
the ceiling, trying to stop my eyes from rolling.
Definitely on
the mend. Or in denial.
Tight black shirt with matching dark
pants, there was no trace of injury on him.

Michael joined
us in the kitchen. “I smell fresh coffee.”

Grace poured
hot, black liquid into four mugs she’d lined up. “How about you
tell us what the two of you and Caleb have decided?” She blocked
the coffee with her arm. “Then you can have your mug.”

“Not much to
say, really.” Michael shrugged, reaching over Grace’s arm and
picking up a mug. “We’re meeting with the Higher Coven tomorrow
afternoon. Seth thinks he can get rid of the Grollics himself. He
feels Tatiana deserves that. Caleb believes there is something
bigger going on than a bunch of young Grollics trying to pick a
fight.”

I sat on a bar
stool close by him and grabbed a mug. “What do you think?”

He held the cup
to his lips but didn’t drink. Finally he set it back down on the
counter. “I think Caleb’s right. Except I still don’t believe
they’re after him.”

“You still
think they’re interested in us?” Grace asked.

“Why you two?”
My heart beat thundered in my ears.

“I believe it
has something to do with the night we lost our parents.”

“Why now?
Wouldn’t they have chased us down sooner?” Grace tapped her thumb
against the rim of her mug.

“I’m not sure.
It might have something to do with the book.”

“Maybe they're
after Rouge,” Seth said from behind his mug.

My chair
scraped the ground as I shifted. “I’ve got nothing, and until a few
months ago I didn’t even know they, or you, existed.”

“She’s right,”
Michael said. “She got the Grollic book by chance. Found it at a
second hand shop. Caleb thinks they don’t even know this book
exists. On that count, I think he’s right.”

“But still…”
Seth persisted.

“Caleb did a
background check on Rouge and nothing on the computer popped up
that raised a flag of any kinds.” He touched my shoulder and
squeezed it. “I just found this out this morning, myself.”

I wondered if
Caleb had the name of my birth mother. As much as I wanted to know,
I didn’t ask. It wasn’t the right time.

Michael
shrugged. “At this moment, I’m not sure what to think.”

“Grollics
always want to fight,” Grace said. “They don’t need a reason.”

“True.” Seth
strolled closer to her and reached around to grab a muffin. “But
you’d be miserable, too, if you had all that testosterone and were
ugly as dogs.”

“Seth!”
Michael, Grace and I shouted at the same time.

Afternoon flew
into evening and I found myself unable to stop yawning as the
conversation floated around me in the living room. I sat at the end
of the couch beside Michael, my toes squiggling into the new soft
carpet Sarah had installed. Resting my elbow on the couch arm, I
let my head drop into my hand. The conversation had quieted to a
steady hum of male voices, becoming a lullaby to my ears.

I drifted and
woke to someone gently shaking my shoulder.

“Rouge.”
Michael’s warm breath caressed my ear. “Let’s get you to bed.” His
arms slid under me and scooped me close against him.

I snuggled
against his chest too tired to reply, until we were outside and
cold crept up my back.
Freakin’ freezing
! “Wha’ the –”
Twisting, I nearly fell out Michael’s grip and into the snow, but
he caught my flailing arm and leg.

A chuckle
rumbled deep within his chest. “Relax. I’ll put you in bed, safe
and warm. Caleb still needs to talk. I’ll be back as soon as I
can.”

I nodded and
once inside the pool house, easily drifted back to sleep. When I
woke, the darkness had been replaced with early morning light. I
knew right away I lay alone in bed. He’d probably ended up staying
up to the wee hours with Caleb and Seth.

This
sucks!
Alone on my birthday
.

As soon as the
thought hit, guilt flooded though me. Michael needed to be with his
family and he had a responsibility I knew so little about. Rolling
onto my back, I sighed. What was Damon’s comment the other day? I
needed to figure out who the bad guys were? There wasn’t an ounce
of bad-stuff inside Michael or Grace. Now Caleb, he might be a
different story.

Where could
Michael be now?
He had to see the Higher Coven in the afternoon
so I’d hardly get to spend any time with him. Again the guilt
washed over me. I wasn’t that kind of person – the person who
demanded they be shown love.

Disgusted in
myself, I threw the covers off and stomped to the bathroom to
shower. The hot water did nothing to ease my mood. I had a stiff
neck, my shoulders burned, particularly the left side. I flipped
the temperature as cool as I could take it, lasting another two
minutes.

Hopping out and
grabbing a towel to try and smother the goose bumps, I shook my
head at the image in the mirror. “
Idiot
,” I mouthed.

I began towel
drying my hair and decided to blow dry and straighten the mop –
something I hadn’t done in forever. Stretching to grab the dryer
out of the drawer, I winced in pain. With my right hand, I reached
behind to rub the soreness. However, the place couldn’t have been
in a more awkward spot. I looked like an ostrich trying to fly as I
attempted to reach over my shoulder or around my back. I finally
found an awkward, and slightly uncomfortable way by putting my
right arm directly behind my back and flipping my wrist so my palm
rested against my back.

I straightened
when my fingers touched the spot. It was hot, burning hot.
Twisting, I tried to find it in the mirror but saw nothing, just a
small glimpse of my birthmark which looked slightly brighter than
normal. I reached around again, but the area felt cooler, like
typical skin temperature and the pain was gone. “Weird,” I
muttered.