The Vampyre Legal Chronicles - Marcus (21 page)

Bloody
hell.

Nausea roiled
in Marcus's gut.

Christ, Ezekiel
was four hundred and twenty years old.

He’d done
things, seen things that...

A cold sweat
prickled on Marcus's top lip.

His baby would
never be able to cope with seeing, hearing, smelling,
touching...

Desperate to
remain calm and not tear the bastard limb from limb, Marcus pointed
at the witch and spoke very slowly and very carefully,

"Then you can
just go back into her mind and wipe her memory clean."

Ezekiel shook
his head and gave him that dead-on stare that drove Marcus fucking
crazy.

"Anais is a
ferociously clever woman with a big heart and an innocent
soul."

Fisting his
hands, which wanted to wrap themselves around the witch’s neck,
Marcus's vampyre rose and took over the discussion.

His bones, his
muscles, expanded and so exponentially did his anger.

"She is
mine.
If you have harmed her in any way, a soul-eater will
be the least of your fucking worries."

Ezekiel took a
deep breath.

"She’s refusing
to let me in and is constantly calling for you."

Tricky son of a
bitch.

"So you want to
use magic on
me
? Not a chance. Nice try."

"It’s merely a
simple case of my hand placed on your head and the other on
hers."

Marcus got up
close and in his face.

"So you can
read
my
mind? Do I look fucking stupid to you?"

An icy disdain
entered Ezekiel’s dark eyes.

He showed his
fangs.

"Believe me,
there is nothing in your mind I'd either want or need. If you are
afraid, we’ll have your Centuri and Saira ready to slice out my
heart if anything goes wrong. Trust me, Saira would greatly enjoy
it. The longer you leave Anais trapped in her mind, the harder it
will be to bring her back," he warned in a low voice filled to the
brim with frustration.

Checkmate.

Marcus didn’t
trust the bastard further than he could spit him.

But what choice
did he have?

The thought of
Anais, trapped, terrified and calling for him was too much for him
to bear.

He strode to
the door and threw it open to find the medic still fussing over
Anais.

"Bring her in,
Saira."

When Anais was
laid on the low couch, Marcus lay on his side next to her, and
pulled her, unresponsive, into his arms.

Saira, no
surprise, was not happy with the plan.

But for once
she didn’t argue.

Her dark eyes
flashed with fury and a deep anxiety that matched the emotions
balling in Marcus's gut.

Ezekiel knelt
on the floor next to the couch and placed his hand on his woman's
soft, fragrant hair.

And Marcus
thought he’d implode with an impotent rage mixed with...
jealousy.

He closed his
eyes, took a deep breath as a heavy hand was placed on his
head.

She stood, all alone,
among the dead.

Under a scorching sun
Anais stared out over the vast wasteland of the Gobi desert.

The air
crackled with a residual electrical charge.

The scent of it
forcibly reminding her of spent fireworks.

Magic
.

This was the
world with magic.

Who’d have
thought it had a smell or that the hair on her arms would stand to
attention.

So this was
horror and terror - hundreds of leather clad skeletons turning to
dust in the heat of a swirling desert wind.

The gritty
remains of their bones bit her cheeks, stung her eyes.

Her gaze was
frozen to the spot where a portal had opened. Like a computer,
memories downloaded instantly, filling her mind with data. A rip in
the space-time continuum, whatever the hell that was. Flashes of
information - alternative realities - parallel universes - along
with how mathematical facts and research now proved the science via
experiments in the Hadron Collider at CERN in Geneva. Physics, laws
of nature and the Universe all fought for dominion in her stunned
brain.

It was
information overload.

It was all too
much.

The too heavy
weight of Ezekiel’s personal memories, his emotions; his inner
torment was an agony beyond pain, a pain that no being should ever
endure, threatened to bring her to her knees.

Her fingertips
pressed hard into her skull and Anais wondered if this was what
insanity felt like.

"Marcus!" she
called out again to the man she'd stubbornly refused to admit she
loved.

Her voice was
hoarse now. The desert wind whipped her hair around her face and
like a thief snatched the sound of her voice.

She would never
leave this place.

Unless and
until the one she loved came for her.

But no matter
how loud she cried his name, she was trapped as she stood among the
dust of the dead.

Alone.

And deep in her
heart, she was losing hope.

"Anais," the voice she
loved more than life itself, the tone a low, throaty growl, brought
her back from the brink.

She turned and
there he was, Marcus.

A river of
tears flowed unheeded down her face as he caught her close to his
strong body. She did her level best to burrow inside his skin. If
only this awful trembling of her bones would stop. She inhaled
deeply. The scent of him was so familiar and real. By his presence
alone he centred her reeling emotions.

"My wee
darlin’, let me get you out of this place."

Still buried in
his arms, Anais shook her head before lifting her drenched face to
his.

Her eyes
devoured his marvellous face, those high cheekbones, that strong
jaw with the wide mouth and lips she knew she’d never get tired of
kissing. That was, if she ever got the chance.

His fierce eyes
lasered into hers as again she shook her head.

"Not until you
see this."

She turned
towards a desert which held the fallen, and with a wave of her
hand, her mind downloaded Ezekiel’s memory of an event unseen in
the history of humankind.

In the vast
ocean of a great desert, row upon row of the Legion stood at
attention.

The rumble
under their feet, the shaft of light was so bright it blinded for
long seconds.

And then a
portal opened.

Marcus drew
Anais close.

Through
Ezekiel’s eyes, Anais and Marcus watched, channelling Ezekiel's
thoughts, his emotions, his fascinated horror, as he recognised the
legend of an old tale, of an ancient terror, brought to life in
front of his eyes.

A
soul-eater.

The portal was
wide and tall, at least the size of the doors of The Cathedral of
the Immaculate Conception.

The soul-eater
that stood before the portal was almost seven feet tall, with the
heavily muscled body of a warrior, dressed in some sort of metal
armour. The bald skin of its head was parchment white. The eyes
black, relentless, as they scanned the Legion standing before
it.

The being
appeared to take a deep breath before its mouth went unspeakably
wide in a silent scream. The energy blast was a physical punch of
power that sent Ezekiel flying backwards through the air to land
behind a crop of rocks.

And that’s what
probably saved his life.

When Ezekiel
struggled unsteadily to his feet, all his horrified gaze saw were
the dead.

The being’s
mouth was even wider if that was possible and he watched with utter
shock as the tortured, frantically struggling souls of each soldier
were sucked into that dark maw.

The portal
began to dissipate, like a flickering television screen losing the
signal, and the being moved fast as the gateway to this reality
began to break-up.

The being
returned through the portal, turned again to survey the scene and
saw Ezekiel watching...

The
soul-eater... smiled.

It was a smile
ferocious and filled with an evil Ezekiel had never before
seen.

It was a
warning. An
‘I’ll see you again’
rictus grin, which poured
ice into Anais and Marcus's veins.

The earth
beneath their feet shuddered with a thundering roar as the portal
closed.

Aftershocks
continued for many minutes as, eyes huge, Anais turned to face
Marcus.

"Tell me,
Marcus, what am I seeing?"

"According to
Ezekiel, a soul-eater. An imaginary creature come to life."

She turned her
head to look up at him.

Her heart stood
still.

He looked
somehow more than.

A warrior.

His narrowed
eyes were still riveted to the spot where the portal had been.

"No," she
pressed. "What am I
seeing
? Is this merely trouble, or is it
a disaster for our world? When the portal opened the earth shook.
The earth shook a few days ago, too, on the night I was attacked by
a woman, a vampyre, in the club. And I know who she is. I see her
in Ezekiel's memories of her. Her name is Eleanor. Eleanor
Pattullo. Tell me, Marcus, why would she want
me
dead?"

"I promise to
answer all your questions, my wee darlin’. Once we are out of
here."

She recognised
that face, the determination, the ruthless expression in those deep
blue eyes.

"Marcus, take
me home."

"Speak to me,
Anais."

Back in the
real world, Anais found herself lying flat on her back on something
soft.

She took a deep
breath, smelled beeswax, the scent of musty books, red wine, and
the faintest trace of light human sweat. It came to her that this
was the aroma of... religion.

She was in a
church?

Her eyelids
felt glued together, but Anais forced them open to find Saira’s
bright eyes peering into hers.

Then the
shivering began.

Her chin
trembled, her teeth chattered as her body temperature plunged.

"Shit," hissed
Saira. Her fangs sank into her wrist and she pressed the bloody
wound to Anais’s lips. "Shock. She needs warmth and blood."

Marcus stripped
off his coat and laid it on top of Anais before taking her in his
arms and holding her tight as she fed hungrily from Saira. His
scent on the leather soothed her, as did his hand stroking her
hair. Saira’s blood tasted warm and sweet with a peppery kick.

And Anais felt
her organs absorb the fluid, like a sponge soaking water.

"Not too much,"
Marcus muttered the warning.

Anais released
Saira. The medic sealed the bite on her wrist with a gentle lick of
her tongue.

"Well done,"
said Saira said and gave Anais a soft smile.

A man came into
her line of vision.

He was tall,
dark and incredibly handsome.

Anais knew who
he was.

She’d seen
through his eyes, knew the innermost secrets of his heart and had
felt the unrelenting agony in his soul.

Ezekiel.

Their eyes met
and held for a timeless moment.

She would not
share the deepest secret held in his heart.

By his smile,
she saw he'd heard her promise.

Aware that
Marcus’s hold on her had tightened, Anais smiled and held out her
hands to the man.

Ezekiel ignored
Marcus’s low growl of warning.

He dropped to
his knees next to the couch.

Then he took
her hands in his.

He bowed low
pressing her fingertips to his forehead.

Saira’s hiss
and Marcus’s jolt told her the witch had done something
monumental.

He lifted his
head and stared deep into her eyes.

"If ever you
have need of my services, Anais. You have only to ask. My life is
yours."

"Thank you,"
she whispered.

His smile
transformed his face from handsome to gorgeous.

"I have healed
the cut on your hand. Can you tell Marcus and Saira how it came to
be?"

Anais
blinked.

"It happened
just before the earthquake hit."

Ezekiel nodded
his head, encouraging her to continue.

"You were cut,
poisoned, by a vampyre. Who hurt you, Anais?"

Anais bit her
lip.

She was aware
that Marcus had gone absolutely still.

"There was a
woman. In the restrooms at the
Pepper
club. She seemed very
interested in the necklace Marcus gave me. When I turned to leave,
she was at the door. I knew I was trapped. I knew she was going to
harm me. But then the earthquake struck and I ran. I think she
grabbed my wrist... Everything happened so fast."

Ezekiel's dark
gaze stayed on the man who held her too tight in his strong
arms.

"Someone tried
to kill her, before you took her vein. Anais is in grave danger.
Marcus, you need to take better care of her."

Without looking
at Anais, Ezekiel handed her hand to Marcus, as if for
safe-keeping.

And Anais found
her eyes filling as a lump the size of a fist in her throat made it
impossible to swallow never mind speak.

Ezekiel's eyes
stayed on Marcus. "I must speak with your father."

The tension in
Marcus’s body wound even tighter as he held Anais close to his
heart while he absorbed the truth that his kind had been betrayed
by someone they trusted implicitly.

"Aye. I will
speak with him, and Cristophe. We might have a problem with
Samuel."

The witch
simply gave him a bland stare.

"Lord Samuel
Hindmarch believes the sins of the father shall be visited upon the
son."

Marcus
nodded.

"Even you
cannot blame him for that."