Shadow of the Mark

by Leigh Fallon

  “Are you okay?” Adam asked.

  “Sure, I’m just going to the bathroom,” I said, avoiding his eyes. I didn’t dare to breathe until I was away from everyone and standing in front of the sink. “You do not want Rían. You do not want Rían,” I whispered to myself over and over as I splashed cold water on my cheeks. But all I could see were Rían’s black eyes, laden with unspoken intentions.

  I finally got myself under control and erased the smoldering image of his face from my brain. Relieved, I fixed my hair and opened the door. There, leaning against the wall, was Rían.

  “Why are you here?” I asked, feeling my stomach start to twist again. I glanced down the little hallway, filled with crates of empty bottles and smelling of stale beer, wondering if we could be seen. Luckily, our table was hidden around the corner.

  “I was just checking on you. You seemed a bit . . . shaken.”

  I tucked my hair behind my ears with trembling fingers. “Oh, I’m fine.” I started to leave, but Rían put his arm across the narrow hall, blocking my way. I tried desperately to avoid his dark, burning eyes boring into mine.

  “What are you doing?”

  “No, Megan. The question is, what are you doing?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I’m talking about.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  He swung around so his hands were on the wall on either side of my face. “You’re not a good liar, Megan.”

  “Rían, please stop. Adam will see us.”

  He leaned closer to me. I could see my reflection in his pupils, my face surrounded in a halo of flickering flames in his irises. His eyes held me in a vise grip.

  “He’ll see what?” Rían whispered, his lips now so close to mine that I could feel his breath.

  “Rían, please, don’t do this.” I pressed my head into the wall, trying to put distance between us.

  “Do what? Ignore this thing going on between us? Ignore the fact that when I’m with Chloe, I have to push images of you out of my mind? Get over the near-murderous thoughts I have toward Adam every time he touches you? Do you know how screwed up this is, Megan? Whatever you’re doing, stop it.”

  Anger boiled up in me. “You think it’s me doing this? Did it ever cross your mind that it’s you? I love Adam. I’d never be with you. EVER. So get over yourself.” But the thudding in my chest threatened to betray my words.

  He stepped closer to me, his body brushing against mine. “I don’t want you either,” he growled, staring at my lips. “I don’t.” The words caught in his throat as his mouth dropped to mine.

  “Ahem!”

  Rían jumped back. His eyes darted to Caitlin, who stood tapping her foot beside us. Rían stumbled over himself and disappeared into the men’s room.

  I was still pressed against the wall, heart racing as my chest burned. I raised a hand to my mouth, running my fingers over the tingling skin where Rían’s lips had briefly met mine.

  “What are you doing?” Caitlin asked, wide-eyed with shock. She grabbed my hand and hauled me back into the bathroom.

  I moaned, slithering down the wall. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  “You and Rían . . . seriously?”

  “No! There is no me and Rían—I don’t know what happened. He followed me out, then pinned me against the wall, we were just talking, then . . .”

  “What about Adam and Chloe?”

  “It was just a moment of stupidity. It will NEVER happen again.”

  Caitlin’s eyes glazed over with disappointment. “I thought you and Adam were happy.”

  “We are, it’s just . . .”

  “Just what?” she said, sliding down the wall beside me and taking my hand. “What’s wrong?”

  “Seeing Chloe and Rían so . . . so physical. Maybe . . . I don’t know, I think I might be a little jealous.”

  “And you and Adam don’t . . . ?”

  I shook my head. “It’s complicated. But I do love him. And I don’t want to be with anyone else. It’s just sometimes when Rían looks at me, I get this wave of feelings . . .”

  “But you’ve got Adam, and he’s devoted to you.”

  “Right.”

  “Well, I guess we’re all allowed moments of complete and utter stupidity.”

  I frowned. “Forgive me?”

  “Hey, it’s not me who needs to forgive you.”

  I felt my face drop.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything. But you better make sure Rían doesn’t plan on opening his mouth, because if he does, you’d be wise to get to Adam first.”

  “You took your time,” Adam said, taking my hand as I returned to the table.

  “Oh, you know us girls in the loos, it’s all fun, fun, fun,” Caitlin said, breezily flopping into the booth beside Matthew.

  I looked at Rían’s stale, untouched pint on the other side of the table and noticed his jacket was gone. “Where did Rían go?”

  “He suddenly had the urgent need to talk to Chloe. No doubt he’s whispering sweet nothings to her at this very second.” Adam laughed. My heart raced. What if Rían told Chloe? How could I have done this to them? How could I have these feelings?

  “You look tired. You want to get out of here?” Adam whispered in my ear.

  I nodded, relieved at the idea of putting distance between myself and the scene of the crime. I leaned into Caitlin. “Do you mind if Adam and I take off?”

  Matthew perked up. “Don’t worry about Caitlin. I’ll make sure she gets home safe,” he said in a voice laden with meaning. He put his arm around a startled-looking Caitlin.

  Áine laughed. “Don’t worry, Caitlin, I will see you home too. Lothario here”—she elbowed Matthew—“can ply his wares another time. Matthew, can’t you see you’re scaring the poor girl?”

  “Aren’t you two sort of an item or something?” Caitlin asked in confusion.

  “No. Our families were kinda hoping we would be, so we just play along, is all,” Áine reassured her.

  Caitlin visibly relaxed and grinned up at me. “In that case, I’ll be fine.”

  “Come on,” Adam said, taking my hand and pulling me to the exit of the pub. “Let’s go.”

  The evening was cold, crisp, and clear. Adam took a deep breath. “You want to go home or do you fancy a walk?”

  I gazed up at the sky. “A walk sounds nice.”

  We wandered hand in hand through the little winding streets with Randel shadowing us. As we left the twinkling lights of town behind, we made our way along the water’s edge, stepping over the crab pots and neatly folded fishing nets that dotted the quay wall all the way to the marina.

  “Come on,” Adam murmured. He punched in the code at the yacht-club gate and pulled me through it. The beauty of the marina at night always took my breath away. The only sounds were the tinkling music of the masts swaying gently above us, and the quiet lapping of the water as it wrapped itself seductively around the boats. Adam led me down the gangway toward the club’s yacht and lifted me on board. A wave of guilt crashed over me, and I shuddered.

  “Hang on, it’s a bit cold.” Adam ran down the stairs and came back up with a big fleece blanket. He wrapped it around both of us and hugged me close as we sat on deck. He turned to me and let his lips gently graze mine. His eyes were closed and his face peaceful.

  Any lingering thoughts of Rían were pushed firmly from my mind as I gave in to the sensation of his warm caresses. I could feel the elemental energy encircle us, but it was pleasurable and gentle.

  “It’s a beautiful night,” he whispered hoarsely into my neck.

  I nodded, not daring to speak.

  “You know you’re my everything?”

  I squeezed my eyes shut tight, leaned into him, and whispered, “I know.”

  I would tell him what happened, I would. But not tonight.

  Eleven

  UNCOVERED

  I was perched on the couch in the family room between Dad and Petra with a giant bow
l of popcorn on my lap. As much as Petra’s presence irritated me, I was relieved Dad had insisted I stay home to spend “family time” with her. It meant I could keep my distance from Rían. I tried to focus on the explosions of the latest blockbuster as it blared on the TV, but I was acutely aware of my dad’s hand holding Petra’s just behind my head.

  I slithered off the couch and sat cross-legged on the floor, leaving room for Petra and Dad to get closer. Dad was happy, happier than I’d seen him in . . . well, probably since Mom was alive. And despite the weirdness of our little chat a couple of weeks ago in the kitchen, Petra was okay. Sitting on the floor in the dark with Dad and Petra occupied, I began playing with the popcorn, letting my air element pick up a piece and float it to my lips. I bit at it and grinned.

  Chewing slowly, I got an idea. Adam had mentioned once that he could control water temperature. If he could do it with water, then maybe I could do the same with air. I’d never tried before, but it seemed like a plausible explanation for what happened that day with the grass. Maybe I’d burned it. I raked through the popcorn, looking for a kernel, and placed one in my hand. I stared at it on my palm and willed the air around it to heat. Suddenly it burst open in my hand. I jumped a little in surprise, but neither Dad nor Petra seemed to notice. Cool.

  I put my hand over the bowl and tried it on a grander scale. The bowl shuddered as remaining kernels popped. I laughed quietly to myself until I was tapped on the shoulder and Petra’s voice whispered in my ear. “Are you finished playing with the popcorn? Mind if I have some?”

  “Sure.” I didn’t dare look her in the eye. My mind raced. If she’d seen anything, she’d have said something, right?

  The next morning, I was both reluctant and eager to get to the DeRíses’. Since I’d have to stay home on Easter Sunday to spend “quality time” with my dad and Petra, Fionn had planned a festive dinner for Saturday instead, so we could all be together. The best part should have been that Dad and Petra were going to a party and would be out late, so I was staying over. But all that time would give me the perfect opportunity to tell Adam what happened with Rían. I knew I needed to come clean, but I was dreading it. I wasn’t the only uncomfortable one as we sat down to dinner. Rían sat silent, eyes cast downward. The right side of his face was puffy and purplish-black. I wanted to ask what happened, but Áine shot me a warning look and I kept my mouth shut.

  Matthew, who had returned to his devoted intended role, had several helpings of dinner and washed it down with copious amounts of wine. He seemed oblivious to the undercurrents of discontent that rippled around the table.

  Adam and I finally excused ourselves and left Áine and Matthew to play the happy couple for Hugh’s benefit. We ventured into town, where the Easter festivities were in full swing. The sounds of music and merriment oozed from the doors of the numerous pubs that lined the main street. Ahead of us, blocking the road, a folk band entertained a huge crowd of dancing people. Adam pulled me down a small side street to avoid the chaos.

  It was the opportunity I’d been waiting for. “Adam, I have to tell you something.”

  “What’s up?” His downturned eyes flickered to mine.

  “Um, I need to give you a little backstory first. I . . .” Without warning, Adam pulled up short and tugged on my arm. “What is it?” I asked, looking around.

  He put his finger to his lips and pointed across the road, where two seagulls were fighting over a discarded bag of chips. I shrugged, wondering what the big deal was. “Seagulls?”

  He shook his head. “Look beyond them.”

  Adam pulled me behind a car and crouched down. I scrutinized the parking lot, searching for something amiss. Then I saw what had caught his attention. Chloe. I hadn’t even recognized her at first. She was wearing dark glasses and a hat, and her long legs were bound in skintight jeans and black leather boots. She leaned up against a black BMW, talking to a man. A range of emotions passed through me, the strongest of which was stupidity. Adam was right—there was no way she was seventeen.

  She laughed out loud and raised a gloved hand to tuck some of her hair back under her hat. She stopped laughing as her eyes focused in our direction for a moment.

  “Shit,” Adam whispered as we ducked down lower.

  I held my breath. “Did she see us?”

  Adam crept back up, looking through the window at her. “No, I don’t think so.”

  I stretched up and watched as Chloe dropped a set of keys in the man’s palm, then slid into the car. The engine purred into action, and she pulled out fast, the tinted windows blocking her from our view.

  “Who is she?” I managed to say, still frozen in my crouched position.

  “I have no idea. Come on. Let’s stay with that guy and see where he goes.” Adam helped me up, and we followed the man as he headed through the town and onto the pier road in the direction of the marina. We watched as he let himself into the apartment building across from the marina using the keys from Chloe.

  Adam took his phone out of his pocket and tapped the screen. “Áine, meet me downtown. Bring Randel too. We’ll be by Gallery 41 on the waterfront.” He hung up and turned to me. “We need her sight.”

  A few minutes later, Áine arrived with Matthew and Randel in tow. “What’s up?”

  “We saw Chloe. It looks like she’s quite the little actress. She drove out of town in a Beemer, looking closer to twenty-seven than seventeen.”

  Áine’s face dropped. “Aww, crap.”

  “She gave her keys to a guy just before she left, and we followed him to that apartment block over there.” Adam pointed to the door.

  “You want Randel to check it out?” she asked.

  Adam nodded, and Randel flew down onto the wall behind Áine. Áine closed her eyes, and Randel set off in the direction of the apartment block, landing on a windowsill high above us.

  “Not that apartment,” Áine mumbled. Randel jumped to the next window and then onto a balcony. “Not that one either. Hang on, go back to that one. Black hair, heavy build, brown jacket?” she asked, opening one eye in Adam’s direction.

  “That’s him,” Adam said. “Can you get a look around the apartment?”

  “The blinds are closed. I can only see through a small gap in the balcony curtain.”

  “Can you see what he’s doing?”

  “He’s on the phone. Wait . . . now he’s getting up. Shite, he’s leaving again—he’s on his way down.” She opened her eyes.

  “Okay. Have Randel watch him from a safe distance, and ask him to check in regularly. I’m going in.”

  “Adam, no. It could be dangerous,” I protested. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  “It will be all right. You do the breaking, I’ll do the entering.”

  “What?”

  He grabbed my hand. “Matthew, keep an eye out and watch Áine’s back while we’re up there, okay?”

  “Okay,” he said, eyes gleaming.

  Once we saw the man make his way down the street to the local fish-and-chip shop, Adam and I walked up to the door. “Go on, open it,” Adam urged me.

  “And how do you expect me to do that?”

  “Use your power. Shape the air in the lock and increase the pressure—it should pop right open.”

  “You seriously want me to open this lock with just air?”

  “Stop doubting yourself and do it.” He looked over his shoulder. “And any chance you can speed it up?”

  My heart pumped wildly as I put my hand over the keyhole. I closed my eyes briefly, imagining the mechanism in my head, and the lock clicked open. I caught my breath. It seemed too easy. “This feels wrong, Adam,” I whispered as I followed him inside and up the stairs.

  “We’re just going to check it out.” He turned to me and motioned to the door. “Work your magic.”

  I put my hand over the lock, and even easier than the last time, it clicked open. Adam walked in, but I hesitated.

  “Meg,” Adam called from inside. “You have got to see thi
s.”

  Curious now, I stepped into the apartment. It was more like a command station than a home. The living area was set up like an office. There were boards up around the room, with photos pinned everywhere, including pictures of our friends, the school, the marina, Dad, Petra, my house, my bedroom. Two laptops were on a live feed from cameras on my house, the school, a house I didn’t recognize, and the DeRíses’. Then Chloe’s school uniform caught my eye, hanging on the back of the door.

  “Jesus Christ!” Adam exclaimed. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this.” He took out his phone and started snapping pictures.

  I went to check out one of the bedrooms. It had two single beds, both of which were made and looked untouched. I headed into the other room and found a double. It too had been made, but had obviously been used recently. I opened the closet door and peeked inside. On one end were all the clothes Chloe usually wore, and on the other was a much more severe and sophisticated wardrobe. Below them were all the bags of stuff she had bought on our shopping trip. Nothing had been touched. I couldn’t believe it. Who was she? What was she?

  “Megan,” Adam called from the sitting room. “We better get a move on.” We made our way back to the door. On the table, I spotted my name in an open file and stopped to take a closer look. It seemed to be a daily account of my every movement. “Look,” Adam said, leaning over me. Sitting there was an email printout, an airline booking reference for Chloe. “Chloe is off to Sweden.”

  Adam’s phone rang, and something tapped at the window. He answered the call while I peeked out behind the curtain. Randel hammered his beak against the glass.

  Adam came up behind me. “We better get out. He’s on his way back up.” I ran for the door. “It’s too late for that,” he said, grabbing the email with Chloe’s flight information. His head darted from side to side, looking for an escape. “We’ll have to hide.”

  “Come here.” I led him outside to the balcony and locked the door behind us. “Hold on, I’ve never done this before.”

  “Never done what?”

  “This.” I threw my arms around him and leaped off the balcony. I heard the air whistle past my ears as we fell, and my stomach fluttered for a second like I was on a roller coaster, but then the gentle wind that tossed my hair upward became viscous and formed a cushioned hold around us. Fond memories of being wrapped in a warm, soft blanket and hugged by my mother flooded my senses as my power took over. The current of air carried us slowly downward until we were planted safely on the ground. With my head still buzzing from the delight that trickled through it, I laughed. It was exhilarating.