Seventh Mark (Part 1 +2) Read online

  If he was surprised to see me, he didn’t let on. “Hello, Rouge.”

  Stuffing my hands into my jean pockets, I cleared my throat and tried to sound normal. “I know you told me not to come, but there’s something really important I need to tell you.”

  “Has something happened?” He stepped onto the porch and glanced behind me, most likely scanning for hidden monsters.

  “No…Yes...Maybe.” I blinked a bunch of times, ticked my eyes burned.

  “It’s dangerous you’re here.”

  His words or posture gave away nothing. I couldn’t read his thoughts. “I know.” I swallowed, my eyes darting inside as I tried to calm the anxiety inside me.

  His expression broke. He wavered and looked as lost as me.

  I stepped toward him and stumbled, unable to keep my knees from buckling. His arms surrounded me and he held me tight. My head instinctively went to his chest and I left it there, inhaling his wonderful masculine aftershave, the taut muscles under his shirt, his warmth, all of it. Would it be wrong to want to stay here forever? I then remembered the real reason I’d come. Putting my hands on his shoulders, I pushed him back a few inches so I could think. “We really need to talk. Can I come in?”

  “Maybe it would be better out here.” He paused and his eyes shifted back and forth at mine.

  I shook my head and exhaled a long breath. “I think I’d better come in and you should get Caleb, Sarah and Grace.”

  He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

  I paused, thinking I might need a bullet proof vest and remembered a better devise for protection. “Just need to grab something from the car.”

  I ran to get the antique book, letting the fresh air cool my flushed face. It was my only chance to convince Caleb I was worthy of being with Michael. I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and headed into house.

  Chapter 10

  Caleb tapped his thumb impatiently against his other hand. A scowl etched his face as he sat behind a newly replaced, antique desk. “What’s so important you had to come back to my house?”

  Settling by the fireplace, I tried to remember to breathe. He was intimidating as a person, but freakin’ scary as some kind of immortal killing machine. They must know Damon’s a Grollic. How could they not? I swallowed, not as sure of myself as I had been moments earlier. “H-Have you been able to find anything out about D-Damon?”

  “Very little actually,” Sarah answered. “It’s as if he is nothing, but we know there’s something. He’s seventeen, born here, lives here but nothing to raise concern to us.”

  Grace stood by the door frame. She had nodded when she had come into the living room but had avoided making eye contact with me. Now she stepped forward, uncrossing her arms. “There’s no proof on anything. He’s just…Damon.”

  Show them. A voice inside of me spoke, strong and determined. I set the old, leather journal in front of Caleb, my eyes defiantly meeting his. Where’d this new courage come from?

  He picked it up, frowned at the cover and then flipped it open. I cleared my throat. “Damon’s a Grollic. It was him at the beach. He has the beasts tattoo below his right collar bone.” I turned to Grace. “That day in the courtyard, I saw it. Didn’t realize till this morning what is was. I read through the book last night, and then remembered it this morning.”

  “What mark? They’ve no tattoo to label them.” Caleb slammed the journal on top of the desk with a resounding slap. “Where’d you get this?”

  His accusation really said was, Where’d you steal this? “It’s from the bookstore where I work. My boss gave it to me.” I tried to swallow, my mouth suddenly dry.

  He traced the cover and bindings. “This book appears written over hundreds of years ago. The writing’s in some ancient language.” He flipped though the pages. “I’ve never seen or heard of this. The Coven doesn’t know.”

  Lucky me. “Most of it’s foreign,” I mumbled, playing with the Siorghra around my neck. “I read through the part I could understand. Where it shows the anatomy of the Grollic, it talks about how he transforms, even some theories on ways to kill him. The book’s old, but you might be able to use something. There’s a story about a girl in a white cape. I think she was an angel.”

  Caleb gasped and stared at me, his eyes blue and pupils tiny. Sarah and Michael raced behind him and hovered over his shoulder. Caleb gave his head a slight shake and focused back on the book. He held it at arm’s length, probably so Michael and Sarah could read it.

  Grace ran over and looked ready to hug me but held back. “You’ve no idea how much I’ve missed you,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

  “Me, too.” So why didn’t you come by? I paused, mad at my next thought. Why didn’t I try to text or email or come here sooner?

  “Oh Grace. Put those trivial female feelings aside. Now is not the time. Rouge should have shown us this book the moment she had it.” Caleb turned me. “How long have you had it?” He shook his head. “Never mind. What I want to know is when did you learn the language?”

  What? A heavy feeling dropped into the pit of my stomach. “I didn’t. I can only read the English part.” Did I need to show them? The book wasn’t that big. Surely they could find the section.

  Michael stared at me, his mouth slightly open. “None of the book’s in English.”

  Supernatural immortals and they can’t tell the difference between English and foreign? “The middle part is. It’s like the Little Red Riding Hood Nursery. The part with the diagrams and drawings is where I connected the dots. That’s where I found Damon’s tattoo or mark or whatever you want to call it.”

  “I do not understand,” Caleb spoke slowly. “Show me the part you can read.”

  This was ridiculous. Here I stood trying to help them and they are talking to me like I’m the idiot? Jaw clenched, I stomped over to the desk and grabbed the book. Searching through the pages, I found what I needed and tapped the title. “See, here. The History of the War. It’s just like the fairytale, except Riding Hood’s actually some kind of angel or something – she’s got wings – and the Grollic’s actually an ugly beast.” I watched the three of them standing around the desk. Sarah had her hand against her chest, Caleb’s lips pressed into a thin line, and Michael kept looking at me, then the book and back again.

  “Rouge,” he spoke slowly, “it’s not English.”

  “What?” I shook my head, glancing toward the ceiling. “You’re not funny.”

  “I’m not kidding.” His face stayed serious, not a glimmer of teasing in his eyes or a twitch around his lips like he was trying to hold laughter in.

  “Check this page.” I pointed to the paragraph about Grollics’ knowledge on the woman in the white cape. “The book’s old, but the author wrote what they thought was a race from an original. He knew they could destroy you. See the list?” I flipped to the next page. “Here’s the diagram of the Grollic and where its heart is located. The caption says that instead of being on the left side of the body, the Grollic’s heart is on the right, located higher than most animals. The bit beneath the drawing, says when the Grollic changes from human to Grollic-form, the heart shifts. I guess if a human wanted to stab a Grollic to kill it, you’d need to aim for the right, not the left side.”

  No one said a word. Not even Caleb. His mouth actually hung open now.

  What the –? “Listen. I can’t read the beginning or the end of the book, but the middle section’s in plain English…” Why only to me? I tossed the book on the desk, and rubbed my eyes, frustration giving way to confusion. “I don’t understand. None of you can read it?” Grace came around, sat on the top of the desk and began flipping through the pages. The look on Michael’s face confirmed the answer to my question.

  He walked over and took my hand in both of his. He turned to Caleb. “What do you think?”

  “I’m at a loss, but I intend to find out. This girl is no Grollic, and for everything we know, I’ve never had knowledge of the marking. This could be radic
al, for all of us.” Caleb looked at me but avoided making eye contact. “The Coven meets tonight. With your permission, I’d like to take the journal along. If there is anyone else who is able to decipher the writings, it could be of key importance in bringing the mongrels into extinction.” Caleb tapped his perfectly manicured fingernails on the desk.

  The book belongs to me now. I shook my head. What a weird thought. “You don’t need my permission. Take it. Keep it.”

  “No. It’s yours.” Caleb shot a glare at Grace who looked like she was about to say something, but closed her mouth. “I think you should take Rouge into my office and show her some of our history. See if there’s anything else she’s able to understand.” He clicked his tongue and stood. Walking over to me, he pulled at my hood and touched my collar bone with ice cold hands that instantly turned warm. “No marking, ‘eh? Just checking.” A hoarse laugh came from deep in his throat, like he didn’t do it often. “I’m interested in this little talent she’s acquired.”

  A muffled growl filled the room. Everyone flinched and turned to me. I held my hands in the air. “That was my stomach.”

  Grace burst out laughing. She jumped off the desk. “Let’s get you something to eat. We’ll stop by your place after and grab some clothes.” She glanced at Caleb. “We’ll be working late tonight, so Rouge’s going to need to sleep over.”

  “She needs to stay here. It’s not safe for her to be on her own,” Michael said. “I’ll take her.”

  Grace put her arm around my shoulders and poked Michael. “You have to go with Caleb; you’re expected to be there. The elders will be upset if you're not.”

  Michael, about to argue, must have changed his mind. “Fine.”

  Was there some hierarchy line? Where did Michael stand? If Caleb was royalty, would that make Michael some kind of prince?

  “If you’re able to find anything out,” Michael said, “contact me and I’ll come back. Now I’m going to talk to Rouge. Alone.” He stared at Grace, and tapped the side of his temple.

  Without waiting for an answer, he took my hand and led me out to the backyard. The feel of his hand in mine brought little electrical currents throughout my entire arm. He could have led me into a pit of Grollics and I’d have followed in a heartbeat.

  Every piece of greenery in the back looked immaculately cut, set around a pool and a cute pool house. Barely had Michael shut the door when he pulled me into his arms. He held me tight against him. “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”

  I kissed him. Whatever disappointment, anger or heartbreak I felt had disappeared the moment he’d grabbed my hand.

  He groaned, and one of his hands came up to my neck. His fingers drummed along my neckline to the pendant of his Siorghra. I could feel him smile through our kiss, and suddenly his kissing became more intense. I went right along with him, my hands running through his hair, on his neck, his face, on his chest. I couldn’t get enough. I wanted more. Being apart had been harder than I realized.

  He pulled back, his stunning blue eyes flitting back and forth to mine.

  I gently leaned toward him, letting my forehead touch his.

  “I’m so sorry,” His voice cracked. “I blamed myself and thought I’d put you in danger and messed your world up. You were meant to find us. I should have known. I really missed you and I’m sorry.”

  I took a small step back and brushed a fallen hair from his forehead. “Don’t be. Things happened for a reason. I’d have never looked through the book if I wasn’t on my own.”

  He shrugged, not looking completely convinced.

  My arms wrapped around his waist and I pulled him into a hug. I ran my palms along his back and froze when I came across his bony shoulder blades. I thought back to the journal.

  “What’s wrong?” he said, leaning back.

  “Do you have wings?”

  He chuckled. “No. There are a lot of things I can do, but flying is not one of them.”

  I reached for his shoulder blades again, remembering before the Halloween party when I’d first noticed their boniness. “But…”

  “We all have those protruding little bits, maybe a leftover part that never evolved with time.” He scratched his head. “I could have had them before…everything changed. I just don’t remember.”

  “Oh,” I blinked. “Wait a sec.” What else had he just said? “What other things can you do?”

  “Loads of cool stuff.” He smiled. “I’ve been trained to fight. And when one doesn’t have the fear of dying, it lets you push your limits a lot further. You learn a lot about the body’s ability. ”

  “Can you teach me?”

  Michael stepped back, apparently mortified. “No! It’d kill you.”

  Shaking my head, I playfully punched him in the arm. “I meant to fight. If I’m going to be hanging out with a bunch of people who hate Grollics, I should know how to defend or at least protect myself.”

  “Now that might be a good idea.” Squatting, he reached for my arm and pulled me over his shoulder. “I think you’re lighter than a sack of potatoes.”

  “Put me down.” I pounded his back lightly. “I don’t mean now. You need to go with Caleb, and I don’t want to start any problems when I might have just scored some points with my crazy Grollic reading ability.”

  Michael set me down and smiled. “I love you.” He tapped his Siorghra pendant. “You’ve already got my heart.”

  I blinked and straightened. No one had ever said those three words to me. Not the mother who’d abandoned me as a baby, the father I had no idea of, the foster parents I’d had through the years, or any guy I’d gone on a few dates with. Not even a best friend. Is it possible to be terrified and ecstatic at the same time? I ran my teeth across my lower lip. If I said the words back would something inside me change…forever?

  “Probably should have kept that too myself.” He chuckled and kissed my nose. “I think it’s a good idea we go back in, you need to eat. You look a bit faint.” He led me to the back door, through the kitchen, and into the living room. “Grace, can you take Rouge to get some food?”

  I realized that while we were outside, I’d never bothered to pay much attention to what the backyard looked like, I’d been too busy concentrating on the hot body smothered against me. My skin grew warm at the thought.

  Michael squeezed my hand and then darted into Caleb’s office. I stared hungrily at him for a moment and then turned to Grace.

  She burst out laughing. “You might want to put your ponytail back in, your hair’s a mess.”

  Face burning, I reached for my hair and tried to tuck the escaped wisps behind my ears.

  Grace didn’t say another word, but her giggling didn’t stop the entire drive to Jim and Sally’s.

  We walked through the front door of the house.

  “It’s so quiet. Are the foster-folks out?” Grace held her arm out to stop me. She cocked her head to the side. “This normal?” she whispered.

  I sucked in a quick breathe, instantly paranoid. “Maybe. I ran out earlier today without talking to them.” I glanced around. “Nothing seems out of the ordinary.”

  “You wait here by the door. I’m just going to have a quick look around to be sure.” Grace darted away before I could argue.

  I leaned back against the doorframe and checked up and down the street. Nothing was different. Hopefully Jim and Sally were out. Besides being freaked out by Grace tiptoeing through the house, Jim had been freaky-weird the last time she came inside. I didn’t want to have to deal with that again. When she walked back from the kitchen I said, “Let’s go upstairs so I can have a quick shower, and grab clothes for tomorrow.”

  “First let me make sure everything’s clear upstairs.” She took the stairs two at a time.

  I followed once she hit the landing. By the time I reached the top, she’d checked the rooms and turned back to my room. “How about you stay the weekend? You shower and I’ll have a look through…” She paused, as if searching for the right word. “I’ll che
ck what’s in your closet and see if there’s anything I can do something with.” A hand flew to her mouth. “I don’t mean that in a bad way. I just meant…”

  I laughed. I’d miss her being around. “I’ve got a duffel bag on the closet floor. You can throw what I’ll need in there.”

  Opening the bedroom door, I saw why Grace had paused. My room had shoes and piles still on the floor from my lame attempt at sorting it last night. “It’s not always this bad.” The argument sounded really lame and Grace’s raised eyebrows stopped me from bothering to say more. Instead, I grabbed a pair of jeans and the pretty, silver top Grace had bought before heading into the bathroom. The water needed to run for like an hour before it would heat up enough to step in. Stripping down, I stepped into the shower. I reached into my toiletry bag and grabbed a razor and shaving cream. Always better to be safe than sorry.

  My shower lasted longer than my usual ten minute one. A twinge of guilt reminded me I’d made Grace wait. I dabbed a little perfume on, then grabbed my hair dryer and headed back to the bedroom. I didn’t see her right away, but I did see clothes flying out of my closet with lots of muttering going on inside of it.

  She came in and out of the closet, throwing assorted bits of clothing into the suitcase. The closet was one of those old ones, kind of square shaped with hangers set on the side, perpendicular to the door. As I towel dried my hair, she continued to come in and out with more clothes. Even my dresser drawers had been opened. She rolled three pairs of my jeans and then stuffed them into the near overflowing duffel.

  “Whoa. I’m only staying the weekend. That’s a lot of stuff.”

  Grace shot me a sympathetic smile. “I think I got everything that can be salvaged from your closet and dresser. While you were showering, Jim came back. He was on the phone and now he’s downstairs in the living room. It sounds like he wants to talk to you.”

  “How’d you…” I didn’t finish the sentence. She obviously had some super-sonic hearing or something. “You’re joking? Of all nights.” I stuffed my hair into a bun.