Redemption (25 page)

Marcas laughed. “And you think Damon is giving you the tools to accomplish this? Oh, you’re definitely asking for a war. And it won’t just be Demon lives lost."

His eyes moved to encompass the whole room.

“And if it didn’t work? What would you do with the child?” Marcas asked.

No one answered. They didn’t have to. Nausea engulfed me. But while I felt weak with the thought of someone sacrificing an infant, it only seemed to fan Marcas’ flame.

“You would destroy what you are so willing to create? Like a failed science project!” Marcas cried out before looking once more at my aunt.

“And why Dayton then? Why was she chosen to redeem the sons of Cain?” Marcas asked.

 I looked up then, both wanting to know and dreading the answer. I felt more than saw Monroe take a step forward. She was having a hard time not interfering. I shook my head, knowing she would see it. I felt broken, but I was strong enough for this. Kyra looked at me before averting her gaze to Amber. And it was the way her gaze took Amber in that brought realization. It washed over me with a heat that burned my soul.

“I’m not good enough for the Sethian line,” I whispered. The truth pierced me in the gut. My cursing, my attitude maybe, my lack of humbleness. . .

“I was never good enough."

 I wasn’t good enough because I was never willing to give up who I was as a person for a cause I wasn’t sure I believed in. Marcas glanced at my aunt. I knew he saw what I saw. I knew he knew what I knew. But what no one knew was the way my whole body burned with the shame I felt at being considered lesser. I wonder if my aunt knew I had always had the same faith as my sister. I had just always believed that God loved us for who we were, not for what we could do. Amber looked up then, and I saw tears on her cheeks. I didn’t blame her. She wasn’t at fault.

“I see,” Marcas said loudly. “I think I see.”

He stared at my aunt.

"You should have considered your choices better," he said as he glanced between my sister and me. There was something in his eyes I couldn't read.

"He's misled you," Marcas said. His gaze moved back to Damon.

“I’m leaving, brother. And the girl leaves with me,” Marcas growled as I raised a brow in his general direction. I had agreed to go with him, but he didn’t have to sound all "me man, this be my woman" about it.

Damon moved forward a step, and I fell backward. I wasn’t crazy about either man, but Marcas was definitely saner. Marcas’ hand found my arm, and he pulled me into him. My body was suddenly flush with his and my head came quite a few inches below his chin. I shuddered. The movement felt too intimate for me, but I didn’t move. Something told me it was important not to.

“Where do you expect to go, Marcas?” Damon asked coolly. He wasn’t moving any closer.

 I could feel heat and the quivering restraint of anger moving through Marcas’ muscles and my heart rate sped up. If he noticed, he didn’t react.

“To fix what you messed up,” Marcas answered.

Damon’s eyes shifted away from Marcas long enough to gaze a moment at my face. I fought not to look away.

“You are the elder by minutes, Marcas. It needs to be your blood, but if you won’t finish what we started, I will. You will bring her back to me,” Damon ordered. I stiffened.

“I don’t belong to you, you imbecile!” I said vehemently. It might have been so much more effective if I wasn’t hugged up to Marcas’ chest, but I was tired of the ‘Barbarian He Man’ routine.

Marcas’ arm tightened on me in warning, and I was very tempted to hit him. I was no one’s puppet. Damon only laughed.

“You will bring her back to me,” Damon repeated, his voice full of glee. Had I entertained him?

“If the damage can be undone, brother, she is yours,” Marcas replied.

I heard Monroe’s cry from behind me, and my heart skipped a beat. I was what? The bastard! I turned toward him and tried pushing away, but his arm was like iron so I settled for elbowing him in the ribs.

“Damn you!” I growled against his chest, so low I wasn’t even sure he heard, but it made me feel better and that was the point.

Damon had moved toward us, and I suddenly felt his warm breath on the back of my neck. It took all the fight out of me. Marcas didn’t move.

“Then go, Marcas. But once the bond is broken, I will know it. And I will bind her to me,” he warned. I felt more than saw his gaze move to my back.

“You will return to me, love. Don’t doubt that,” Damon said hoarsely. I fought not to turn around and glare.

“I’m all aflutter,” I said instead.

Marcas shifted slightly, and I wondered briefly if I had amused him. Damon remained quiet. As long as I had insulted
him
, I was happy. Marcas let go of me long enough to move around me. He was at my back now and the door was in front of me.

“Move, Blainey,” he whispered.

I didn’t argue. I walked. Monroe fell in behind us.

"He's just going to let us go?" I whispered fearfully. Marcas pushed me.

"For now," he said.

I stumbled forward. Monroe ran to catch up. We were silent only until the door closed behind us. I glanced at Monroe.

“What the hell was that?” she and I asked Marcas simultaneously.

I was tempted to cry "jinx" but I didn’t want to look like I belonged in elementary school. Marcas kept poking me in the back, and I kept moving. I glanced at Monroe again.

"Why isn't Damon coming after us?" Monroe asked, her voice low. We shared the same fear.

"He will," Marcas said cryptically. I stopped walking.

"What does that mean?" I asked.

Marcas poked me again, and I grunted before moving.

"Leave it be. My brother is the least of our concerns. When the time comes, I'll deal with Damon," Marcas ordered gruffly.

I didn't have to look at Monroe this time to know she felt as frustrated as I did, but there was nothing we could do.
The least of our concerns?
What could be worse?
I felt Marcas jab me again.

“Could you quit with the pin cushion act?” I asked Marcas sulkily.

If he poked me one more time I’d scream! He poked me. I growled. Monroe took me by the hand and we walked as fast as we could to put some distance between us and the Demon. The car actually looked welcoming. We all climbed in. I turned on Marcas.

“What was that?” I asked, a little more calmly this time.

Marcas glanced behind him before starting the car and backing out of the drive.

“That was me trying to figure out how to get rid of you."

 I narrowed my eyes. “Well, that’s comforting. At least one of you doesn’t want to impregnate me.'

 Monroe snorted from the back seat. Marcas was silent.

"And the voices in my head?" I whispered. "I heard—"

"Nothing. You heard nothing, Blainey," Marcas said clearly.

 I looked away. Maybe it was best I didn't know.

“That was rather enlightening,” Monroe muttered.

I shuddered as I thought back on the chapel. This wasn’t
Rosemary’s Baby
. I was not about to carry any Demon’s child for any reason good or bad. Heck, I still had yet to make it past first base with a guy. Not because I was some goody two shoes. I was just picky. And my first time was
so
not going to be because a Demon claimed he had "bonded" with me
.

“Where are we going?” I asked Marcas quietly. I was suddenly a little wary of going anywhere with him. Marcas turned the car toward town.

“We’re going to work on getting unbound,” he answered.

I lifted a brow. Well, that didn’t sound so bad.

“And how are we supposed to do that?” I asked. He looked at me then.

“We look for the impossible and do it without getting ourselves killed."

 I glanced back at Monroe.

“Oh ok . . . well then.”

Chapter 21

Creatures were created to protect humankind both from themselves and from the war they are unaware is raging around them. These creatures are guardians. They are born and raised to know their role. It is ingrained in their nature. They are gargoyles.

~Bezaliel~

We had passed three road signs before I realized where we were going. I glanced back at Monroe wildly. Her eyes were round.

“Why are we going to the airport?” I asked Marcas hesitantly. He didn’t glance my way.

“I figured it’d be a lot more comfortable for the two of you if we went by plane rather than me flying you myself,” Marcas answered.

My mouth hung open. I thought back on the night I’d met him at the bar, the part where I had been convinced we’d flown to my bedroom. I’m assuming that wasn’t a drug induced hallucination. Was he saying he could fly? And why would we need to now? I went for the latter question. The former disturbed me too much.

“Why do we need to fly anywhere?”

He did glance at me then.

“How many reasons do you want me to give you? There are many. But if we’re being short and to the point then we’re going because, one, it’s not safe here and, two, I need to see a friend who might can help us,” Marcas said.

I wanted to remark on his sarcasm, but I found myself too worried to care. Monroe was way too quiet in the back seat.

“Why isn’t it safe here?” I asked.

Marcas sighed. I was getting a lot of that from him. But what was I to do? I still didn’t understand any of this. And I was a question asker. I hated girls who just sat back and let things happen to them. I
wasn't
one of those girls.
I
, personally, liked answers.

“Damon may be ecstatic about the bond he’s created but, by doing so, he’s incited war. There are going to be a lot of people and Demons who are going to want you dead. Given that and the bond, I’m not sure what that would do to me,” Marcas answered. I looked at him.

“Glad to know you care.”

“I don’t.”

“Kinda figured that,” I said as I looked in the back seat to see Monroe gazing out the window thoughtfully. She glanced my way and caught my eye. I read the intent there and groaned. What was she up to? She glanced down and my gaze followed hers to the cell phone sitting idly in her hand. The text screen was lit up. No, she didn’t! She nodded. Wonderful!

“Are you a vampire Demon?” I asked Marcas as I gave Monroe the evil eye before turning back around.

“Vampires don’t exist,” Marcas answered. I snorted.

“Then what was with the whole ‘drinking my blood’ thing at the bar?”

There was no sarcasm. Just curiosity. Marcas glanced in the rearview mirror for a moment before answering.

“It’s a curse. Any son of Cain craves blood. It isn’t a necessity. We don’t need it to live, but we do crave the taste.”

I stared at him in horror.

“Seriously?”

“You won’t start craving blood,” Marcas said flatly. I wasn’t reassured.

“How do you know? You ever been bound to anyone before?” I asked.

He looked over at me.

“If you were going to crave it, you’d already know,” he said, his tone certain.

My gaze met his, and I saw the red glow that consumed it briefly. I shivered. I was going to trust him on this one. Marcas glanced in the rearview mirror again. It was the second time I’d seen him do it in the past few minutes. I glanced behind us.

“I think we’re being followed,” Monroe said worriedly, and I noticed she too had been staring out of the back windshield. Headlights glared behind us.

“Put your seat belt on,” Marcas told Monroe pointedly. She didn’t argue. The click was audible in the silence. It seemed to signal an end to a moment.

A squeal filled the air, and I noticed the car behind us swerve into the next lane. Its engine revved.

“This can’t be good,” Monroe said fearfully. She tended to state the obvious when she was afraid.

Marcas revved his own engine and his foot floored the gas. My head slammed back against the headrest.

“Oh, my God!” I cried out as the other car sped up and veered into Marcas’ bumper. Marcas fought against the impact and recovered.

“What do they want?” Monroe cried out.

Marcas pressed the gas harder, his gaze moving unflinchingly from the front windshield to the side window. He watched the other car as if it was prey. Something told me I should be comforted by this, but I wasn’t. Not when I wasn’t sure who or what the driver of the other car was.

The following vehicle fell back, then edged closer again. We came up on a bend and both cars careened around it so fast I was sure two of our tires came off the blacktop. I barely managed to keep my head from banging into the passenger side window. My stomach churned.

“You’re going to get us killed!” Monroe shouted.

Marcas pulled the car out of the curve and lurched into the other lane in front of our pursuer. He didn’t comment. The other car pulled up close again. The sound of metal against metal didn’t bode well for us. I braced myself against the dashboard.