A Mark Unwilling Page 8

  I tugged on his hand, said, “Thanks” and ran upstairs to my room, leaving my dad in sheer disbelief. The wound was healed completely in a matter of days. From then on, when I hurt myself, my parents never brought up hospitals. The first time I was in one was after the gunman.

  That night, my parents sat me down and told me that they sold my soul. Being a whopping six, I didn’t quite understand what they were saying. Looking back now, though, I knew exactly what they meant.

  They sold my soul to the freaking Devil.

  To the Devil!

  Of course, they didn’t mention that small factoid to me—ever. Honestly, it stings worse than knowing my soul belongs to a Demon. It doesn’t belong to a Demon. Oh, no—it belongs to the biggest baddie of them all…the Devil. How? Why? What’s so special about me, or my parents, that they were able to make a deal with the Devil in exchange for my soul?

  Human souls are a dime a dozen. We’re not that special, really. My Mark is the only thing that makes me special, otherwise I’d be a normal person. Definitely less sarcastic. If you haven’t noticed, I use sarcasm as a defense mechanism, to diffuse otherwise awkward or difficult situations. I wouldn’t need sarcasm as much if it weren’t for the Mark.

  My Mark. The Devil’s Mark.

  Why didn’t they ever tell me? It was part of the deal, they said. They couldn’t disclose who owns me. I’m glad Deb isn’t bound to the deal and decided to finally fess up. I wonder if there’s anything else she knows that I should.

  Once night starts to fall, I decide I’m done moping—for now—and head back to David’s shop. As I walk around the building, I am greeted by a door hanging wide open. My heart speeds up, and I quickly run in. Deb is gone, her notebooks, too. David and Mike are nowhere to be seen, either. I sprint to the stairs, checking the upstairs rooms. My mom, Josefina, even Xena. I’m alone.

  They’re all gone.

  A new wave of unease eats at me as I jump down the steps. Where in the Sam Hill did everyone go? When I reenter the backroom, I notice how things are out of place. Two chairs are knocked down, tipped over. Like a scuffle happened here. Someone took them, but who?

  A tall, slender figure stands in the doorway, blocking the light from the lone streetlamp David had installed in his tiny parking lot. The woman has long, blonde hair, pin-straight, her features sharply cut. The hue of her skin is near white, her lips painted in a blood-red color. Clad in a whole lot of leather, she looks downright intimidating.

  Vampire.

  She smiles, sharp teeth glinting. “Lexa, is it?” She tosses me two things. I catch them, staring at the silver handcuffs and wool sack. “Put those on, and I’ll take you to your friends.”

  “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” I test the waters, stepping closer to the woman whose height and body shape lent her to model category.

  “You don’t.” She shrugs. “All I know is that the boss wants you, and the easiest way to get you is through your friends. We’ve been told not to hurt you, but your friends are fair game. I’d hate to hurt that cute little girl, but I’ve done worse in my life.”

  Josie.

  I couldn’t play games when lives are in danger, especially hers.

  So, I do the only thing I can: I click the handcuffs around my wrists and slip the sack over my head. The woman talks me through more directions; step out of the shop, get in the back of the van that’s parked there. I bump my head on the top of the van, since I can’t see and all that. As the Vampire woman gets in the front passenger seat and tells the driver to hit it, we lurch forward.

  What the heck kind of mess am I in now?

  Chapter Five

  It’s a long drive until we reach our destination, wherever that destination is. It feels like hours. That’s what I get for storming off and pouting like I’m a child and not a grown, soul-less woman. I’m twenty years old; I need to start acting like it.

  Apparently acting like it meant go along with the cruel Vampires and do exactly as they say, praying that doing so will save my friends’ lives.

  The van stops, and I’m instructed to move it. I fumble my way out of the van and into a standing position, slightly off-balance since I can’t see. The Vampire chick talks to me, telling me to follow her voice. I sigh and do so, not having many other options. I don’t have any, really.

  “You can take off the hood,” the Vampire speaks as she slips a key into my hand.

  I take off my hood and unlock my cuffs. “You know, you could have said pretty please, and I would’ve come with you. The sack and cuffs were a little unnecessary.”

  “I follow orders,” she tells me, licking her left canine deliberately as she swipes the cuffs, key and sack from me. She heads to the corner of the rectangular room, and hands them off, away to another Vampire, this one a man who is stuck in the seventies, judging from his clothes and facial hair.

  And then I take a moment to survey my surroundings. A cold concrete room, with a single door, which is firmly locked, I’m guessing, and no windows. When I turn, examining the line of Vampires on both sides of the room, I freeze when I see that opposite me is a makeshift chair of concrete—a throne, basically—and on that stone throne is the Vampire who visited me after the gunman.

  It’s not the Vampire himself who makes me weak in the knees, even if he might be good-looking, albeit too pale. I’m not that sort of girl. It’s the little one on his lap that makes me ache deep inside.

  Josefina swings her legs back and forth, seemingly beyond comfortable on his cold lap, playing with her Barbie, and another doll I don’t recognize.

  The Vampire barely glances at me, too entranced in Josie. He moves her wild hair aside, watching her with keen interest. Interest that makes me swell with protective anger.

  “Children are such strange creatures,” he breaks the heavy silence in the room. “Such innocence, such naiveté. Once lost, it can never be returned.” His blue eyes flick to me. “Sad, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, I’m tearing up over here,” I say, definitely not tearing up.

  Josefina sees it’s me, squeals, and jumps from his lap. I cringe, expecting him to stop her, but he doesn’t. He lets her run to me, hugging me. She lifts up her new Barbie, one with black hair and cool boots. “Look, it’s you!”

  I give her a smile that I hope is reassuring. “It is me.”

  “Darren gave her to me,” she says proudly, completely unaware of the danger that surrounds her.

  All the Vampires turn to look at who I’m guessing is Darren; a big, burly guy, leather coat and all. Patches on his jeans. Motorcycle boots. All the big Vampire does is shrug, not embarrassed by being called out in the least.

  “Leave us,” the Vampire on the throne says, watching me and only me as his crew files out of the room.

  Darren extends his hand, saying, “Come on, sweetie. Let’s go show Eve your new Barbie.” Eve, my mom’s name. They’re on a first-name basis already? My shock only grows when Josefina willingly walks to the large Vampire and takes his hand, giggling and agreeing with him. The door closes behind them.

  What is going on here?

  The Vampire on the throne spreads his legs, his form far too long for my liking. Like a two-legged, semi-muscular, pale-as-a-ghost spider. I quickly shift my eyes up to his face, aware that I was staring at his crotch. Not for any specific reason, but on accident. An awkward, horrible accident that I never want to happen again.

  “I suppose I shouldn’t say all children. You were never truly innocent, were you?” he speaks, either overlooking the fact that I was looking at him below the waist or unaware of it. I sincerely hope the second one.

  Crossing my arms, I’m hyper-aware that I don’t have on my usual studded faux-leather jacket. Baring my Mark has never been one of my favorite things. “First off, I resent you for bringing that up. Secondly, I didn’t have a choice,” I say, sounding more courageous than I felt.

  Vampires are beyond dangerous. David tells me that currently, they have some kind of peace pact wit
h the other supernatural races, but things like that don’t last. It’s like a lion trying to be peaceful with antelope. Never going to happen. Prey, predator situation. Unnatural.

  Although, Vampires are dead. They may have the memories of their Human life, but they aren’t Human anymore. Their minds process things differently. It’s the parasite talking, with faint traces of Human personality.

  At least, that’s what the literature says, that’s what David says, and that’s what I’m choosing to believe.

  He leans forward, slowly getting up. He circles me like a vulture, sizing me up. I feel very, very uncomfortable. “Let me see it,” he says, his voice low.

  “Sorry, I plan on keeping my clothes on,” I say.

  Suddenly he’s in front of me, his head bent, blue eyes narrowing at me. “I said let me see it.” Commanding, strong, dangerous. Even though I can’t exactly die, his tone still sends shivers down my spine.

  My courage wavers, and I whisper, “Okay, just don’t get hungry.”

  A teensy, tiny smile flashes across his pale face, but it disappears within a second. “I think I’ll be able to hold back.” His words do not fill me with confidence, but I have no other choices.

  I wriggle out of my t-shirt, desperately hoping that no part of me is popping out of my bra with the movement. My shirt hangs around my wrists, and I move the shirt to cover my chest. I might as well be naked. Naked with a deadly, undead Vampire. What can go wrong here?

  I really need to stop asking questions like that.

  He’s behind me, staring at the design on my back. The black bull’s head, the crown, the wings. The Devil’s Mark. What else would have a Mark of that size? Hubris to the finest. It’s not like I ever wanted to wear a strapless, backless dress.

  Thankfully, the situation for that never came up. I never went to prom. Never went to any dances, actually.

  “May I?” he speaks quietly.

  “Go right ahead, Vamp,” I say, shivering when he places his cold hand on my back, touching my Mark. “Just don’t undo the bra strap.” The hairs on the back of my neck rise, goosebumps forming.

  “And it goes all the way down?”

  All I can do is nod when I grasp that he’s probably back there, staring down at my butt. Then again, he’s probably seen hundreds of better-looking butts (if not thousands), so I don’t think I have anything to worry about.

  “Fascinating,” he says, withdrawing his hand. “I’ve never seen a Mark like that.” He moves in front of me, and I use the opportunity to put my shirt back on. “Six hundred years ago, many Humans had Marks. A lot of children died young, and a lot of peasant parents sold their children. More hands on the farm, even if it was only for an extra decade.” The Vampire walks to his throne, unhurriedly sitting, spread eagle yet again.

  This time, I keep my gaze level with his.

  “Now, Marks are rarer. There aren’t as many Demons on the earth as there were. Your Mark is, undoubtedly, the first of its kind, and perhaps the last.”

  I choose not to address that, instead saying, “You’re older than you look, aren’t you?”

  He smiles. “Ah, little Human. So alive.” A flash of his deadly teeth, and the smile fades fast. Something crosses his face that I can’t pinpoint—regret, misery, despair. “I am older than all of your companions combined, and far too world-weary to enjoy what’s happening outside.” He waves his hand, talking about the Horsemen.

  “I might be young compared to you,” I say, “but I’m not a huge fan of the apocalypse, either. I liked the way it was before. It wasn’t perfect, but it was…” There’s not a word to adequately describe what it used to be, I realize.

  The Vampire, though, has an idea. “Home,” he offers.

  The simple truth of what he said shocks me. I shake off the strange feeling. If he keeps finishing my sentences, we might have to sing a musical duet—and I might start to like the walking corpse.

  “I should have paid more attention to you in the hospital,” he says. “If I had, maybe…” A deep sigh leaves him, even though he doesn’t need to breathe to survive. A gesture made more for my sake than his. “No, it’s useless to mull over the past.” Something a Vampire would know very well.

  “You would’ve, what? Not been so creepy?” I say, recalling how he suddenly appeared behind the sterile white door. That felt like ages ago, when in reality, it was a week.

  That gets him to smile again, yet what he says next makes me want to do anything but smile: “No. I would’ve killed you.” Straightforward, easy. As if ending me would’ve meant nothing to him. And it didn’t. It wouldn’t have meant anything because I don’t mean anything to him. “Mark or not, whatever punishment I would’ve received for ending your life would have been far better than what is about to happen.”

  I approach him, suddenly not so afraid, even though I know I should be. “Then end it now. Last I counted, there’s one more Horseman to come. Who knows? Maybe it’ll come

  here—”

  He turns his hands up, lightly touching my wrists. He sees the red in the Mark, instantly letting me go. I rub my wrist, the coolness of his skin very disconcerting. “It’s too late for that, little Human. All we can do is wait.”

  “I think you should stop calling me little Human,” I tell him.

  He cocks his head, giving me half a smile. Great. First the moody, glum demeanor, and now half smiles? How stereotypical. “What would you suggest, then? Trade names, become friends?”

  “I don’t know about friends. Maybe acquaintances.”

  “Forgive me, but it has been a while since I’ve entertained someone with a heartbeat. And that Mark—I’ve never seen anything like it, yet I cannot ignore the suspicion that it has something to do with it all.”

  He’s right about that. “Don’t hurt yourself over it. My Mark is of a special variety. I can’t die. I can feel pain, but death isn’t in the cards for me, yet.” I level with his icy gaze as best I can from my height disadvantage. “Even if you tried to kill me in the hospital, even if you tried to do it now—it won’t work.” It’s a few seconds until I add, “If you’re not going to go Ripper on me, I’m Lexa.”

  The old Vampire blinks, confused at my Ripper comment. “Lexa,” he says my name. “You may call me Cloud.”

  “Cloud,” I repeat, stupidly. “That’s not your real name.”

  He stands in one, fluid motion, moving before me, once more far too tall beside my average frame. “It’s not. I haven’t used my Human name since…well, it’s been a long time.” He peers down at me. “You’ve been through an ordeal recently. You and your companions may rest here for a time, if you wish, but you cannot remain for long.”

  Being surrounded by Vampires? Not something I’d call a fun time, even ignoring the I-would’ve-killed-you thing.

  He glances up as the door busts down, and Mike enters, gun drawn. He points it at—I can’t believe I’m thinking it—Cloud, and shouts, “Let her go, Vampire!” His fierce demeanor wavers when I send him an exasperated look.

  “What are you doing?” I say, glancing at Cloud, who has his hand raised. I glance back at Mike, seeing six Vampires, fangs ready, mouths open to unnatural lengths, seconds from tearing the FBI agent apart. At least Cloud has the mind to stop them.

  “I’m…saving you?” Mike sounds unsure, wholly unaware of the undead mini-horde behind him.

  “Please put the gun away,” I tell him, appalled at what I’m saying. “These guys…are all right, I guess.”

  Mike, uncertain, is sluggish to holster his gun.

  “Why didn’t they take you?” I say after Cloud tells his insane undead posse to disperse.

  Hooking a finger through a belt loop, Mike quickly says, “I stepped out for a bit. When I came back, everyone was gone. I saw a suspicious van speeding away and followed.”

  “Lucky you. These guys’ kidnapping skills are excellent.” I shoot a glimpse over my shoulder at the Vampire who is standing way too close to me. “That was a joke. They suck. Pun i
ntended.”

  Cloud chuckles once, a cold, jarring noise that will echo in my nightmares. “So witty,” he muses. “What would you do without it, little Lexa?”

  I ignore that it sounds as if he’s speaking to a cat and not a person, and give him my warmest, fakest smile. “As long as my wit doesn’t make you fall head over heels for me, I’ll live.”

  He heads for the door, staring pointedly at me as he replies, “Oh, you’re a little young for me. Your skin runs too hot for my liking.” A pause before he adds, “And I’ve met wittier.” He walks away, saying, “Come. I’ll bring you to your companions.”

  For a moment, I stand beside Mike. “Did a Vampire just insult me?”

  “Yes,” Mike answers.

  “And the Vampire did it well?”

  “He did.”

  “Now’s the time for a swearword, Mike.”

  The FBI Agent plays along: “Damn.”

  We follow Cloud through the halls. A whole lot of concrete, lights way too dim for my Human eyes, with minimalistic decorations. A picture hanging here and there. A carpet in the common room. We’re told the building is underground, hidden from the Human world—the reason why everyone was bagged on their way in. A super-secret entrance that Mike only found by tailing the van.

  Cloud speaks, explaining that the kitchen area does have Human food. It’s mostly for the Human feeders that live here, willingly; Humans who know about the supernatural world and are okay with being living, breathing Happy Meals. Of course, Cloud and his group don’t call them feeders. The word feeders isn’t politically correct in the Vampire world. Who knew Vampires care about being politically correct? An oxymoron, if I remember my tenth grade English class at all.

  To call them feeders implies they’re only there for food, when in reality, they can be the still-Human family members of the Vampires, or their lovers, etcetera. Sapes, they’re called; plural. Singular is Sape, I guess. Maybe for Homo sapiens? I don’t know. I don’t want to think about it too much, because the idea of letting a Vampire feed on me is not a good one.

  Totally nasty, plus…ouch.