Marked: A Two Halves Novella (9 page)

I gaped at him. “That’s all it took?”

“It’s not ‘
that’s all,
’ Xander. We talk about
sacrifice all the time, but few would give up their lives for someone else.”

“But my Xela is gone.” I slumped in the chair, eyes on the
kitchen table.

The pain of knowing my soul remained with Xela lingered. Her
lost spirit was trapped in a foreign body. The thought that I couldn’t save her
crawled beneath my skin; aching I could never let go. My black witch lived in a
body I could not have. Not for another twenty years, perhaps longer.

Eric lowered his head. “I’m sorry. We had no idea Aseret’s
powers had grown so much. It will take more than me or the keepers to keep him
bound.”

I looked up at him. “Is Aseret bound?”

“Yes.”

“Then why are you so glum, lover boy?” I forced a laugh,
hoping to trigger a dirty look, at least. I glimpsed Mira’s thankful eyes. She
was just as curious about Eric’s sudden change in behavior.

“Aseret’s bound, but he’s done damage that will take years
to fix.”

“The hereafter?” Mira asked.

“Yes. And it’s my responsibility to take care of it.”

“It’s my fault the hereafter has been opened,” she said,
reminding me of the push that changed the trajectory of his magical attack,
saving me.

“You did what you had to,” Eric’s voice almost cooled the
entire room.

“I’ll go with you. We both will. We’ll help you,” she said
firmly.

“You can’t. It’s not your calling.”

“But we’re watchers of the dead, aren’t we?” Desperation
crept into my sister’s voice.

“The future has been changed.”

Somehow I knew exactly what he meant. There was a job I had
to do, but I didn’t know what it was yet.

“You have a responsibility now.” He reached out and touched
our wrists, where the blue glow had faded to what looked like black tattoos.

He was right. There was a new instinct inside of me that I
recognized, though I’d never felt it before. Was this due to the mark? Was this
what it felt like not to be stuck in endless oblivion?

“Do you know what it is?” I asked.

“It will be revealed to you soon,” he answered, looking at
Mira as if he were saying goodbye.

My ears perked up as I heard a rustle in the forest outside
the hill.

“What does it mean for us?” My sister cocked her head to the
side. I assumed she concentrated on the swooshing through the higher grass, ten
miles to the west.

“It means my calling to fix the hereafter is now my
priority, sugar.” He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.

“And once you fix things, you’ll be back?” she asked, her
eyes mellowed, straining to keep her focus on Eric.

“I won’t make promises that can’t be kept.” He sighed.
“Sugar, I’m not sure I will be able to close the hereafter.”

“So, you’re gone forever? I’ll never see you again?”

“Never say never, sugar.”

“Can’t I be with you while you answer your calling?” she
pleaded, holding back tears.

She wouldn’t let them flow in front of Eric. My sister
wouldn’t show despair until after he’d left. But she knew the evil-bender was
right. Another job waited for her, just as it did for me. I sensed her
heightened alertness as she also listened to the forest outside.

“Will I see you again?” she asked.

“I’m not a fortune teller, sugar.” He came close, wrapping
his arms around her waist. That’s exactly what Mira wanted, but the sound of
wind cutting through the forest at unnatural speeds distracted her, the same
way it alerted me.

Eric laughed. “See what I mean? You have a calling now, too.
The feeling will get stronger.” He smoothed his finger over the three wavy
lines on her wrist.

“I’ll wait for you,” she said.

My ears perked up again as my gaze slid from the couple
toward the door.

“I know.” Eric smiled. “Go. You have work to do.” He kissed
her on her nose. She closed her eyes. A gust of wind blew through the room and
when she opened her eyes, Eric was gone, whirled away in the vortex.

We locked eyes.

“Let’s go!” I urged, knowing exactly what to do. Eric was
right. With the mark on our wrists to guide us, we understood our mission
without having any details. At this moment, someone sped through the forest
toward the hill, and we had to find out who it was.

He headed our way. We caught up to the creature and ran
parallel to his sprint. Mira on one side, me on the other, concealed by the
dark forest as the afterglow of the setting sun skimmed the treetops. The wind
wrapped around me and caressed my body, easing the pain of losing Xela.

I was in my natural state, a shape-shifter—a demon, a human,
and a watcher.

I knew exactly who I was.

I was marked
.

###

Sneak Peak
at Book Two in the Series

Two Halves

Prologue

Hundreds of miles—that’s how far he ran each day. His feet
should have been blistered, but they weren’t. He should have been out of
breath, but he didn’t need to breathe. Exhaustion had set in years ago, but not
from the running.

Where should I run next? What would be the best way to
mislead the seekers?

Ekim imagined a map in his head of where he’d been. Black
marked the roads he’d passed; red for those he needed to avoid; green for ones
he could still use. The mental strain to keep the drawings organized exhausted
him.

But running was his priority, the only constant in his life,
and would be for a long time.

Almost twelve months had passed since Ekim’s wife Saraphine
died, since Sarah was born. He longed to see his daughter but didn’t dare risk
it.

Zigzagging across America, he retreated from the demons who
concentrated their groups in the south. The seekers would think he returned to
his kind and stop the chase—or so he hoped.

Ekim has been a cold-blooded vampire since 1823, but with
his judgment clear he was newly compassionate. Only when protecting his family
did the ferocity and the viciousness come to the fore, necessary to preserve
the human and vampire species.

He couldn’t slow down. Sarah was turning one in a week.
Seekers were still looking for her and William, Atram’s one-year-old son. The
decision to move Sarah to Pinedale was difficult, but he knew it was the right
choice. Her aunt Helen would take care of her. She’d continue mixing the serums
that kept Sarah hidden.

Atram, Ekim’s best friend since the day they’d been turned,
sent a telegram to the most northerly post office in each state once a month.
Ekim stepped outside the building and pulled the paper from its envelope.

EVERYONE’S WELL. KIDS GETTING ALONG. HEART CONDITION GETTING
WORSE. THEY’RE LEAVING IN TWO WEEKS.

Sarah and William couldn’t get too close to each other. The
children’s heartbeats quickened uncontrollably when they laughed, turning the
giggles into cries of pain. Thin veins appeared on their innocent, chubby
faces. The electric shock between them when they touched was as quick and
unpredictable as snapped fingers. They needed each other to fulfill their
destiny, yet they couldn’t be together.

How will they do it? How will they ever save both our
kinds from extinction?

*  *  *

PINEDALE 150 MILES

The vampire read the road sign, then closed his eyes to
picture his daughter’s new home. A white picket fence of a red brick Georgian
dwelling with white trim around the dormer windows and doors, a chimney
protruding from the roof, and a lawn chair on the front porch. Ekim’s only wish
was to make a stopover.

“I can’t,” he whispered through clenched teeth. His stomach
tightened, and the vampire bent to rest his hands on his knees for a moment.
The pain wasn’t physical but was still a torment.

How long before I can see my daughter for the first time?

I can’t.

Ekim’s path around Pinedale to reach the powerful witch
Hannah had to confuse the seekers so they wouldn’t know he avoided the town
intentionally.

He sped up, running along the shadow of a railroad bridge,
the forest looming on his left. The sweet fragrance of jasmine floated in the
air reminding him of home. Inside, he could only hope Hannah would trust him
and provide the protection Sarah needed. Was this too much hope for a vampire
to have?

*  *  *

June 21, the longest day of the year. Ekim huddled in the
shadow of a fir, wishing it was broad enough to cover his body. When his
thoughts wandered, the sun singed the arms, and he’d have to shuffle another
inch to avoid the scorching beams. Waiting since sunrise, he watched the
fireball rolling across the blue sky. Moving his body with the tree’s shade
throughout the day, the vampire imagined sweat beading and running down his
face, though he knew it wouldn’t. He shifted his weight from one foot to the
other, anxious. The sun almost touched the earth. Another two to three minutes.

Ekim looked to the west, his feet planted exactly in the
spot he’d been told to be: 44.57N by 110.5W. To his left, the sun sank to touch
the top of a hill. As the fiery orb collided with the mound of earth, its rays
sprayed outward to fall across fields, hills, and valleys, bathing all life
with an orange and yellow glow—everywhere except one area in the lee of the
hill. He smiled. Its shade would lengthen, and he’d be able to escape the
shadow of the fir toward it.

Now.
He ran fast, ducking under branches, jumping
over fallen pines. The faith he held onto inside didn’t let him wonder whether
Hannah would listen. Castall’s promise that she would sufficed. After all, her
husband was an influential warlock.

A noise in the bushes to the right kept Ekim alert as he
sprinted. Something paralleled his route.

What else could move as fast as a vampire? A seeker?
He inhaled, but the scent was unfamiliar. Ekim sensed another creature’s
tracking on the left and his fangs sprouted.

They stayed concealed until Ekim reached Hannah’s hill
before leaping from the bushes to block his way. They looked like
vampires—their faces were similar in structure, their gestures familiar—but the
smell of wet bear fur mixed with that of a wolf intrigued thim.

“What do you want?” the female shouted.

“I’m looking for Hannah,” Ekim answered, careful not to give
too much away. Anything he said could be used to find Sarah.

She kept her stern eyes on the vampire. “What do you want
from her?”

The male stared, his brows furrowed, but although he looked
toward Ekim, his piercing gaze concentrated on the forest at his back.

Something rustled branches and leaves behind Ekim, but he
did not stir. He inhaled deeper, letting his acute senses work. Five grizzly
bears, three wolves, six mountain lions, and two coyotes—all focused on the
vampire. Four eagles circled overhead, their underbodies golden in the
afterglow of the sun. The male murmured at the animals under his breath in a
tongue Ekim did not recognize.

The mammals did not pose a threat to Ekim. He’d get a few
scratches but could handle them. His mouth watered at the thought of some
carnivore blood. He held back though, unsure of the two beings standing in
front. Their bodies were well-defined, muscles taut without flexing, and Ekim
wasn’t the only one, he noted, who didn’t break a sweat while running.

“My business is only for Hannah. Castall sent me.” Ekim
stood taller but lowered his shoulders and softened his eyes. He let his fangs
retract.

A crunching sound accompanied subtle movement in the earth
and brushes behind the two beings. Ekim smelled crushed rosemary and mint.
Their arms were still crossed at their chests, and they did not twitch. An oval
of grass in the hill moved a camouflaged door that swung open. A lady in her
early fifties stepped out.

Hannah, Castall’s witch wife.

“Kids, stand down. He’s kin,” she ordered, eyeing Ekim from
top to bottom. She waved forward. “I’m Hannah. Come in, Ekim.”

The male nodded and motioned with his arm toward the bushes
at Ekim’s back. The animals scattered into the darkening forest. Both “kids”
stepped up beside Hannah, then parted to either side as the vampire followed
her in.

Fresh basil and pepper joined the herbal aroma inside. The
dwelling was larger than Ekim expected for the small hill concealing it.

“The outside’s an illusion,” Hannah said softly, as if he’d
voiced his confusion. The witch’s light and gentle voice did not match her
size. Despite the weight she carried, she moved across the room with grace, her
long skirt brushing the wooden floor as if she were dancing.

The air was warmer here than above ground, the dimmer light
making it cozy. A small fireplace crackled on the back wall as steam hovered
over a simmering pot hanging above the low flames.

“Have a seat, Ekim.” She gestured toward an armchair against
the opposite wall. Underneath her long sleeve, Ekim glimpsed a mark of three
wavy lines on her wrist identical to Castall’s on her wrist. The pair who
greeted Ekim had taken up positions on either side of Hannah. She gestured to
them next. “It’s in their nature to be protective. Something that you’re
seeking, I gather—protection.”

Ekim bowed, acknowledging Hannah’s wisdom, and waited for
her to speak again.

Hannah raised her thick eyebrows and dipped her head to look
at him over her glasses. “Protection . . . These are my children, and I will
protect them with my life.” She gazed expectantly at Ekim.

“It’s my child I need to protect, as well,” he answered.

Hannah sat on a stool by the fireplace and threw a log into
the pit before leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. With a pop, the
settling fire spat two embers out on the floor. She picked them up with her
bare hand and tossed them back into the growing flames.