Marcus - Precinct 12

by Chloe Vincent

  At one point, she asked him about something that had been burning in her since they'd met. "Marcus."

  "Adina," he replied with a charming grin.

  "Can I ask you a question?"

  He leaned back, studying her with his deep blue eyes, crossing his legs on the couch. "A personal question, I'm assuming?"

  "Right." She found herself smiling. If he had been a conman, she could consider herself conned. "Why are you in Hollywood? I hate Hollywood. I think most of the people there are a bunch of entitled, moronic egomaniacs. You don't belong there. I talked with the other people and you're absolutely nothing like them."

  He pursed his lips in thought. "I've had people ask me that before. The truth? I don't know. I find the atmosphere so energetic. There's always something going on. I think my heart lies in the country long term, but for now, I'm having a good time."

  Though not the answer she was expecting, she liked it. Respected it. She didn't want to work at the agency forever, but for now? Same thing. It was working out just fine. "I figured you'd say for the money."

  He shrugged. "Money's never been that big of a thing to me. My dad always liked to say, ‘it's just paper’. He was right, and I tend to think the same way." Marcus let out a deep sigh. "To be honest, it's losing the thrill for me. I've made some friends, I've gotten a little attention, made some money. But I'm bored with it. There's got to be more out there than rehearsals and fan mail. You never know who's really got your back when the chips are down. People tell you all kinds of wonderful things to your face, but the moment disaster strikes, they're outta there."

  "So why stay?" Adina pressed. "Why stick around if you don't like it?"

  He snorted. "Money." After a little chuckle, he looked more serious. "I have to finish the show. After that, who knows? It certainly isn't the life I thought it would be. So many assholes... some of them are nice, in fairness, but some of them make me wanna pick up a gun and pull the trigger." He paused. "To clarify, that's metaphorical. I'd love to take time off, just leave the show for a little while. Travel, maybe. Get back to my roots and where I belong. Anything other than the interview tomorrow."

  She nodded, not really interested in the interview as much as she was engrossed in hearing him talk more. "Interview, eh? That seems like it shouldn't be too bad."

  "With her it is."

  A quick pang of jealousy appeared before she shot it down. Jealous? Really? They weren't even together! She couldn't possibly be jealous of some other woman, even if she didn't know if he was still single. She'd thought about looking it up, but the part of her that prevented her from going through with it reminded her of the feelings she'd be acknowledging if she did. "Her?"

  "Helen." He said her name like a curse. "She's interviewed me a couple times now and Ashley scheduled another one for tomorrow. Weird woman. Smart, sure, but interviewing with her is like being interrogated. No good small talk. Everything is forced. She's got the ratings and the show, so Ashley likes me to work with her, but between us, she's a real piece of work. Stuffy. Cold. If you sat next to her on a train and she didn't move, you might think she was dead."

  Ah, so not any competition, even though that should not have mattered and Adina was disappointed in herself for even thinking that way. "Huh."

  "Enough about work," he declared rather abruptly, like he'd been thinking about it and couldn't contain it anymore. "I probably shouldn't, but I need to ask you. What happened outside the trailer? I thought you were into me, but then everything got out of whack. If you aren't, I can accept that, but I just..." He faltered. "I'd love if you could shine some light on it."

  And there it was—the topic that she'd been hoping he wouldn't bring up. She could change the subject, of course. It was her house and she could easily just ask him to leave, or pretend not to know what he was talking about. There were a number of ways to duck the question, but even though she would have rather stuck her hand in a blender than figure out her ever-changing stance on it, she explained as best as she could. "No, you're right." She cleared her throat. Was it this hot in her house a minute ago? "I was into you."

  "Did I do something wrong?"

  She opened her mouth to explain and realized she still didn't know how to do it. She was a grown-ass woman, but she was not well equipped to handle emotions. She could do all sorts of things, but emotions… emotions eluded her. She'd grab at it, wrestle it down, and by the time she thought she'd figured everything out, suddenly the game was changed and she had no idea what was happening. Anger, she was good at it. She could be angry at someone for a reason, and the options suddenly became either do something about it or try to cool down. Simple. Sadness was the same way. Happiness, no biggie. Doubt, not really her thing most of the time. But romance? Ugh. That was digging up a whole box of bad memories. "No! Not at all. It's just complicated. I'm complicated. But no, you did nothing wrong."

  "Theoretically, what would you have wanted me to do? I just can't figure out what happened."

  She blanked. This was a hard enough thing to decide, especially with the whole “sex life being an utter joke thanks to mind-reading abilities fucking everything up” thing, but with him meeting her eyes so intently and her heart starting to pound, her mind elected to take a vacation and left her alone with him with only her body to use as counsel, and if she did what it wanted... there would be an awful lot of inappropriate activities going on. "Marcus, I'm going to be honest with you. I don't know. I think we just got wonky somehow on that whole thing."

  He seemed to understand what she was saying, which was a relief, because she sure as hell didn't. "Okay..." He leaned forward on her couch, the overhead light casting an unusual glow on him as he smiled seductively at her. "Well, theoretically, if I said I wanted to kiss you right now, what would you say?"

  The butterflies in her stomach and the butterflies in other places grew in intensity. She stared right back, meeting his gaze with a similar one. She wasn't going to be the one to back down here. Sure, she didn't know what she wanted in terms of other things, but her body was being pretty damn clear—she wanted him to kiss her, then and there, no questions asked. She could deal with the rest of it later. "I don't know. Why don't you theoretically see what would happen if you tried?"

  Marcus leaned in slowly, making her acutely aware of everything as time slowed down and somehow felt as fast as it could go. The intensity in his deep blue eyes, the warmth of his body, the strength in his arm as he put weight on it to lean forward and the striations in his arm that became obvious, the scent he had getting closer… She closed her eyes and went with it, letting his arms snake around her back and pull her to his chest. Their lips met, his pair warm and giving way slightly to hers. It was intoxicating, glorious, perfect in every way that a first kiss should be. Tingles ran up her back, her toes curled against her carpet, a burst of pleasure exploded through her body as they kissed. He broke away only for a gasp of air, then their lips met again. She felt so protected and safe with his arms around her, so needed and loved, so sexy to him to coax such a passionate moment.

  When it ended entirely too soon, she was at a loss for breath. Her heart pounded in her chest. This had happened. She'd built it up so much in her head and she'd been so worried about what might happen and if it might end up in flames like other relationships, but the thing that she'd had to do was just go for it. He must have been waiting to kiss her. Without even trying, she picked up enormous passion flowing through him. This was as real for him as it was for her. She couldn't fuck this up. And then she saw his eyes.

  Gold.

  Gone was the blue. Gone was the human. In their place were wolf eyes staring back at her, noble and powerful. He blinked, hard, as though somehow aware of the change and it was distracting him enough to make him hesitate. "Adina."

  She stared, a little dumbfounded, right back into his golden eyes. "Yeah?"

  He blinked hard again. They didn't go away. "I'm not human anymore, am I?"

  Before she could even come up with th
e right way to answer that, his crotch started to vibrate and glow. More specifically, the phone he had in his pocket started to vibrate and glow, followed almost instantly by a ring. The two of them didn't move for a second, neither one seeming to fully believe that someone was actually calling him that early in the morning, with the sun still an easy hour from rising, with the incredible bad timing of not only interrupting the intimacy of the moment, but the revelation about Marcus's transformation.

  She glanced at his crotch. Shouldn't have done that. Apparently, his eyes weren't the only thing aroused. "You, um." She coughed. "You gonna do something with that? The phone! The phone. You gonna do something with that phone?"

  Looking like he'd rather punch himself in the face than deal with his phone, he dug it out of his pocket and checked the ID. "It's work."

  "Take it," she suggested. "Must be important." The hormones of the situation began to die off and were replaced by the fact that he was starting to get quite aroused down under and that made her more than nervous. She knew the feeling. She didn't know what it was, but there was something about him that made her wild. Still, the last time that she'd been in a situation like this... it had ended with the guy fantasizing about some other girl, and she wasn't ready to deal with that yet. As badly timed as the phone call might have been, at least it gave a moment of respite before they might go the next step.

  Marcus, clearly annoyed, answered the call, confirming that it was him and sharply requesting what the caller needed. Whatever it was, it had a physical reaction from him. A moment after he heard whatever the person had to say, the color drained out of his face and he snapped something about coming there right away. Her first thought: “What. The. Hell.” Her second thought: “Hold on a goddamn moment, you're leaving? Now??” Her third thought: “If he's leaving right now, something terrible must have happened.”

  Marcus gave her a weird, panicked look. "Adina, I have to go. I'm sorry, but I need to leave right now." As he spoke, he scrambled off of the couch and, still noticeably standing at attention down there, rushed to the door and grabbed his keys off the counter. "Are you coming?"

  Adina had a whole sleuth of questions, some of which were worded ruder than others, but she settled on the first one. "What in the hell are you talking about? What happened?"

  "Ashley." His golden eyes were wide with shock. "Someone's killed Ashley."

  14

  Ashley's Death

  Adina froze outside the car as Marcus jumped into the driver's seat. After getting the call, they'd both rushed down to their cars, but she'd forgotten her keys and it made more sense to carpool to the scene. With all the security going on, she probably wouldn't be able to make it anywhere near without Marcus at her side.

  She watched Marcus, shaking with adrenaline, jam the key into the ignition incorrectly half a dozen times. "Do you want me to drive?" she offered, being the person who hadn't just had a loved one get murdered and whose hand-eye coordination was much better than a normal human’s and who she trusted a hell of a lot more to successfully drive across the city. "If you have some calls to—"

  "Get in or take your own car," he snapped back, almost instantly taking it back. "I'm not mad at you. Just..." He slammed his hand against the steering wheel in the first angry action she'd really seen him do. "Fuck! Why Ashley?"

  Adina didn't have an answer for that, so she did the next best thing: she threw open the door and hopped in. Fuck it. She was essentially immortal anyway. Even if his nerves were shot and they plowed into something, she'd survive. The only person with something to lose was him, and based on that tone, he was safer with her there to help him than alone. She didn't even get a chance to put a seatbelt on before he slammed on the gas and they spun out, tires screeching on the asphalt like a Nascar driver, but instead the prize was shitty news of having someone he'd loved get killed.

  Driving with Marcus was... interesting. If she had been capable of dying in most car accidents, she would've been scared out of her mind. He was an excellent driver—she gave him that. Most people wouldn't have made half the turns he did on the way there. Even with her regenerative abilities, her fingers remained curled tight around the armrests and she made damn sure her seatbelt was secured.

  Ashley?

  Dead?

  The two words didn't add up. Ashley, during the few times they'd talked, had seemed like the model of a good guy and someone who really wouldn't get himself into trouble. Why the hell was he murdered? She'd bet it was the same attacker. Had this one been intended to be the same thing, and maybe it had just gotten out of hand? Ashley had seen right through her guise when they'd talked. Maybe he figured out something, something that he wasn't supposed to know. Regardless of the reason, it left her with a sick twist in her stomach. She'd seen him, recently. Alive and well, perfectly unaware that his life wasn't going to last much longer. If she'd known, she might have been able to protect him or at least get him to a safer spot, but she wasn't God. How in the hell was she supposed to know what might happen next all the time?

  When they arrived at the set, a swarm of police vehicles and ambulances littered the scene like a flock of sheep. Officers stopped everyone trying to get in and heavily checked them out with a swarm of cop lights turning the cool night into a light display of sickening proportion. Marcus roared them up to the fastest checkpoint. He said some stuff, proved some stuff, got them in. She wasn't listening. Her eyes were focused on the scene. If the murder had been recent, maybe the killer was still here. Nothing. As much as it disgusted her, all she saw were people who belonged there: cops, EMTs, terrified cast members, and a few stragglers who all seemed to fit in. Nobody was running around carrying a smoking gun, as if that ever happened. She never got that lucky, but she was hoping she'd at least get a little glance into whoever the person—or Gifted—was. This person had gone past being a psychopathic attacker. They'd already tried to kill her, but now they'd officially murdered someone, probably to shut Ashley up.

  The body itself was a sight to see. Marcus and Adina landed at roughly the same time that the medical teams were trying to save him somehow, but as anyone who looked on could tell immediately, it was a lost cause. Ashley, the good-natured and friendly guy she'd talked to and liked, was strewn across the pavement outside of one of the buildings. Dead. A pool of blood surrounded his body, which looked like it had gone through the same brutal torture that she had, but without the genetic gifts to come back from it. Bits and pieces of him were everywhere. His shirt held a giant series of gashes and a horrifying number of his organs had come out. His legs were ripped up. His face was the only part still recognizable as him, which was even sicker. Whoever had killed him wanted him to be recognized. Whatever it was, whatever inhuman thing had torn into him, had done this on purpose and with a very pointed intent to it. What the hell the intent was, however, was a complete mystery. A threat?

  Adina closed her eyes, swallowed hard, and turned away. She didn't need to see any more. Didn't want to.

  "Fuck!" Marcus's voice took her back to the present. He stood nearby, twisting around wildly and sniffing the air with a dangerous look in his eye. Though the gold had faded and he was back to looking human, he looked like a human who fully intended to go out and do something stupid. "I can smell 'em!"

  Adina's ears perked up. She hurried over to him, forgoing the normal “I'm so sorry your friend was mauled to death. I'm here if you need me” sort of crap and jumped straight to what she wanted to know. "What? They're still here?" Her eyes dashed across everyone. There were dozens of people now, between cops and the cast and news journalists showing up to figure out what was happening.

  Marcus was handling everything remarkably well, given the circumstances, or maybe he was just still in a state of shock, but he kept sniffing. "I know that smell! It's..." He looked like it was on the tip of his tongue, like if she hadn't asked him something, his brain might have been able to make the connection. As it stood, he couldn't place it. "I know them. This whole area smells like... F
uckin' hell! It's the same person who hurt me. I know them! I don't know how, but I know that smell!"

  Adina stepped forward. "Can you isolate it? We can follow it if it's still strong enough."

  He swore, glaring at everyone around them. Sure, the cops needed to be there, and sure, the cast members had to be there, but everyone else? The crowd that was starting to form? The journalists and news crews, all eager to get in on the action? What business did they have there? Couldn't they deal with it later so the investigation could commence? She felt herself heating up even thinking about it. So many jobs had been delayed and screwed up because people couldn't leave damn well alone. With all the smells that were flying around and with more and more constantly joining, she'd be amazed if someone with even a werewolf sense of smell could pick a trace of anything and follow it. She wasn't surprised when he couldn't. Disappointed, maybe. Hoping to bring this to an end before anyone else got hurt, yes. But life didn't always go the way it should, so she found herself spending the early morning calming Marcus down so he wouldn't go off and try to do something stupid.

  She'd fought that werewolf. It had been like fighting a force of nature, and she was quite trained, tough, and engineered for survival. Marcus, on the other hand, had pure passion and a tiny bit of training for combat. If she'd gotten her ass handed to her by this thing, he'd get himself slaughtered. As she had to finally remind him, Ashley was dead. Marcus wasn't. He could go charge off and try to handle it like a vigilante and die in vain, or he could wait until they could do it together, and then they'd stand a chance. He finally seemed to see the logic of it and calmed down, though "calmed down" was not quite the way to say it. "Eagerly anticipating avenging Ashley in a very brutal way as soon as he found who was responsible " was more like it.