The Mark of Cain

by A D Seeley

  She was lucky that she’d stared at Inac’s number a million times as she’d fantasized about him. Having it memorized, she dialed it, praying to God that he would answer.

  “Hello?” his voice said after only the second ring.

  “Inac? It’s Hara. I’m in trouble.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “Professor Sampson and Tracker have gone psycho!” Then, taking a deep breath, she sputtered, “I overheard them talking about kidnapping me to save me from something or other, so I ran, and now I’m in a really scary neighborhood, and two guys outside are following me, and smiling at me like they wanna rape me!!! I didn’t know who else to call!”

  “Where are you?” He sounded angry as well as worried.

  She relayed the address to him after getting it from the cashier.

  “Okay. Stay inside. I’m on my way.”

  “Please hurry?”

  “I’m already heading to my car.”

  “Okay.” Her mind was in so many places that made that the only word she could think of now that she’d shouted to him the short version of what had happened to her.

  The cashier came over to the corner she was cowering in, sticking his sweaty, stinky hand out in demand for more money, but when she shook her head because she didn’t have any more, he took the phone and said into it, “Sorry. She’s out of money.” He then hung it up.

  Hara was shocked. Here she was, about to be raped or kidnapped, and this guy had just hung up on the one person who could help her. Besides, she didn’t feel much safer in here with this guy and his B.O. Truth be told, she was so scared that she hadn’t even had one tear leak out. She was frightened and numb, like bare fingers feel after throwing snowballs for hours. She would probably have a rude awakening similar to them when they started to unfreeze too; that burning stinging that had you holding your breath it hurt so bad.

  After what seemed like eons of her staring out the window, trying not to breathe the stenches of the place in too deeply while the cashier sneered at her as much as the men outside were, a sleek black car sailed into the parking lot, its tires screeching because it was moving so fast. Instead of parking in a space, it took up three spaces by parking perpendicular, the passenger side facing the floor-to-ceiling window that was keeping her reasonably safe.

  She watched as the driver-side door opened up into the air instead of out like they usually did. She then saw Inac’s large form step out, shooting a look she couldn’t see toward the men outside that had them scrambling to get away.

  Hara was so happy to see him that she ran outside, throwing herself into his strong arms. Now that she was safe, her tears spilled out all at once.

  “It’s okay, Hara. I’m here,” Inac whispered into her ear as he held her tight, lightly rubbing her back with his thumbs.

  Only once her sobs had calmed somewhat did he pull her back enough to suggest, “Come on. I’ll take you back to my place where you can take a hot bath and drink a cup of tea. Then you can tell me what happened. Sound good?”

  She nodded as she looked up into his concerned eyes as he wiped her tears away. Inac then led her to the car, opening the door for her, which also opened vertically. He then helped her into the low, cozy leather seat and did her seatbelt up for her—it was more like a harness, and her shaking fingers never would have been able to figure it out. After closing her door, he walked around and got in through his that he’d left open.

  He shut it and revved the engine, saying, “I won’t make you tell me before you’re ready, but I really think you should tell me tonight about what made you so upset that you ended up in such a bad neighborhood.”

  Again she nodded.

  When she still hadn’t said a word, he asked, “Do you want to wait until we’re at my house?”

  Another nod. Right now she couldn’t find the strength to speak. She never had been a very tough girl. She’d always been the one who cried if someone said something mean or looked at her wrong. She was surprised she’d had the guts to leave the orphanage in the first place, especially since they’d offered her a permanent place there.

  She’d received her GED at sixteen and had spent the next three years doing the job they’d permanently offered her, which was basically taking care of the younger children as well as tutoring the older ones. Everyone had cried when she’d left. She visited them as often as she could because it was still her home and always would be. But every time she saw them, it was only that much harder to leave again.

  The view through the window was taking them away from the dilapidated buildings and into downtown, to the ritzy part of downtown where she’d heard you couldn’t find a studio apartment for less than a million dollars. She didn’t know why that surprised her. She should have realized that Inac wouldn’t live anywhere but here. He was totally a privileged city guy.

  At last they turned into the basement garage of the fanciest building she’d ever seen. It looked brand new as well as completely contemporary with all its windows and steel. Famous people probably lived in this building.

  After opening the well-lit garage, they drove around and around past fancy cars that told her that she was right about it being ritzy, until they came to a spot that read “Penthouse Parking Only.” Everywhere she looked were signs designating the spaces for the penthouse. Twelve in all. And every one was filled with a sleek car, or two to three bullet bikes.

  “Are all those yours or is there more than one penthouse?”

  “There’s just one. But I own the building so, when I had it built, I made sure that I got as many spaces as I wanted.”

  “Oh….”

  After walking through a white marble foyer that was off to the side through a door near his cars, they took an elevator to the top floor, which lit up only after Inac had put a key in the slot next to it as well as used a pad thingy to scan his fingerprint.

  “Wow. It’s like Fort Knox,” she said without humor. She was still too dazed to find anything humorous.

  He smiled. “I have a lot of valuables here. At the moment, it’s my main residence.”

  “So your ‘valuables’ move with you?” It was a stupid question, but still, it was all her brain could come up with.

  “Of course,” he said, nodding. “They hold sentimental value.”

  The elevator opened straight into his apartment. At least now she could see why he had to use a key in the elevator. It was, in essence, unlocking his house.

  “I’ve never seen a concrete house before,” she said, as she took in the part she could see. From here, she didn’t see even one piece of wood. All of the furniture was made of mirror-like metal and glass. At least the charcoal cushions on the pewter couch looked somewhat soft.

  “Do you have the whole top floor?” she asked.

  As though it was no big deal, he only replied with a terse, “Yup.”

  She looked up at the ceilings high above her, the pipes and vents visible. It was odd, and spoke of a cold person, but it was somehow pretty. It was like an ice castle with all the mirrors and glass. She could never live in a place like this. At least a few shaggy rugs covered the black, shiny concrete flooring to give it a teensy bit of warmth.

  “Would you like a bath?”

  She shook her head. “Not yet. Can I have a cup of tea first?”

  “And then you’ll tell me what happened?” he asked with sincere eyes. He was obviously extremely worried.

  She nodded.

  He kissed her on the forehead before saying, “Okay. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll be back in a minute?”

  She perched herself on the couch in what must be a family room because a large flat-screen TV was mounted on the wall.

  She could hear Inac on the other side of another wall—sounds of water running and metal on metal—so she stood up and started looking around at his things. On mirrored shelves were various items, not many things that could be considered his “sentimental valuables.” They all looked placed there by an interior decorator. Somehow, thou
gh, they still spoke of Inac. There was a gun that looked like it was from the Civil War, as well as a powder horn and a statue of some Egyptian God that both looked even more ancient….

  “Here,” Inac said, walking into the room with a steaming black mug. She met him halfway, abandoning the authentic-looking odds and ends to take it.

  “Thanks.”

  He sat on the couch, gesturing for her to do the same.

  “So what happened?” he asked, his eyes dark and intense as his jaw set into a tight line that just made him look even more masculine than usual…if that was even possible.

  Joining him on the couch—it was surprisingly more comfortable than it looked, though anything over a couple of hours and she was sure that her bottom would go numb—she said, her bare hand up in a pacifying gesture, “It’s going to sound bizarre, but just hear me out.”

  “I promise,” he said as he leaned forward and lightly placed a comforting hand on her thigh.

  She nodded before taking a couple sips of the heady tea for strength. “Okay. So I was home when I realized that I’d left my phone in my Ancient Civs class, so I went back to get it. When I was almost to the door, I heard Track, which is weird because he doesn’t take any classes from Professor Sampson. In fact, as far as I know, he’s never even met him.”

  Inac was frowning. “What were they saying?”

  “Track was talking about how ‘She was in deep.’ I didn’t understand, but then Professor Sampson talked about how Track had been brought in to ‘Keep her on the right path,’ as well as how angry he was that Track hadn’t told him that ‘He’d found her.’ That they would’ve moved her if they’d known that before he’d gotten his teeth in her.”

  “And what did Tracker say to that?” His frown deepened with every word she uttered until he appeared far older than his years.

  “Track said that it was more like he’d gotten his tongue in her.”

  “Hmm…. Did they say who they were talking about?”

  “No. But then the professor got all mad, yelling at Track for not doing his job; that now they wouldn’t ever be able to convince her.”

  “Convince her of what?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. Then they started talking about how this was five hundred years in the making and Track had ruined everything by not telling ‘Them’—which he said like it was some important person’s name—that ‘He’ had found her or whatever. Then the professor started asking why ‘He’ hadn’t killed her yet because ‘He’ had been planning exactly that for five hundred years too.”

  She was starting to get upset again as she remembered the words as though she was hearing them for the first time right this moment. As a slight shiver ran down her spine, she added, “Track said it was because ‘He’ wanted to play with her first. After that, they were talking quietly, but I heard two more words before I ran.”

  “What two words?”

  She shook her head, her tears once again coming in full force.

  “Come on, Hara, what two words?” Inac pressed.

  “‘Kidnap Anahara….’ Inac, I think they were talking about you and me.”

  ***

  Inac just looked at Hara in surprise, unsure what to say. Luckily, she didn’t seem to notice his momentary reaction and kept going on.

  “I mean, they’re crazy. Why would you kill me? If you’d wanted me dead, you would’ve let me get killed by that mugger. Or, you would’ve thrown me into the ocean instead of teaching me how to swim. Or even tonight, you would’ve let those guys rape and murder me.”

  “I don’t know what’s going on,” he lied, “but I know that I don’t intend you any harm.” That part was true for today. But now he had to kill her. Those bumbling imbeciles had ruined everything.

  “I know.”

  “Why don’t I go talk to them? See what’s up?”

  “No!” she cried, throwing herself into his arms as though, if she let go of him, he’d leave her forever—such a typical reaction for an orphan. “Don’t leave me! Please?!”

  He pulled her into him and said in the most soothing voice he could muster, “Okay, I promise.” After a few minutes, he pulled away, rubbing at her tears and suggesting, “Why don’t you take that bath now and I’ll make you another cup of tea?” He needed time to think. To plan his next move.

  While he readied the bath, he found a T-shirt for her to put on afterwards. He would have grabbed her a pair of boxers but, after thousands of years of not wearing underwear, he wasn’t about to start wearing it now. Then, once she was relaxing in the tub he personally liked to fill up with scalding water before taking a deep breath and immersing himself in it until the water went cold—his way of relaxing, and the whole purpose for the bath in the first place—he put a call in to Santoni.

  “Go for Santoni.”

  “There are two men I need you to take care of. I want them tortured in the Old Manner.”

  He heard a gulp on the other end before Santoni managed in a wavering voice, “Yes, sir.”

  “And make sure they live through it for a few days. Even if you have to give them an IV to accomplish that.” He really wished he’d had that gift of modern medicine back when he’d mastered the Old Manner of torture in the fifteenth century.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Santoni was scared. He knew that Inac only had people tortured that way when he was extremely angry with them. Inac hadn’t used it since he’d rid himself of Micah’s superior which, in turn, had given the kid the responsibility of getting rid of Hara. It was the way he rid himself of those who either betrayed him or pissed him off more than normal.

  Inac hung up after giving Santoni descriptions of the two guys as well as where they could be found. They probably wouldn’t go near the gas station tonight after the glare he’d shot them, but he knew his men would stay in the area at all times until they found them. He’d hung up just in time because Hara came out wearing the black T-shirt. She looked beautiful, like a fallen angel with her wet hair streaming down her back and her long legs bare from the mid-thigh down.

  “Here,” he said, handing her a fresh mug of tea he’d put together with fresh herbs and flowers masking the drugs he’d slipped into it. “Drink this.”

  He then held her in his arms as they lay on the couch together until she drank all her tea and fell asleep. Once she was out, he picked her up and gently put her in his bed, tucking her hair behind her ear. He then lightly kissed her brow before getting up, grabbing his keys, and leaving. He had some daft members of The Order to talk to.

  Chapter Twelve

  ***

  “That will work. I say we do it tonight before he finds out,” the professor’s voice said from around the corner.

  Though Inac was angry that these imbeciles had ruined his plan, he smiled and walked through the door. Because they were too engrossed with papers on the desk in the front of the amphitheater usually full of feeble little minds, the professor and Tracker didn’t immediately notice him.

  Pretending like he hadn’t heard them and knew nothing about them being in The Order, he said, “Hey boys. What are you two doing here so late?”

  Both their heads shot up in surprise.

  “I was just talking to Tracker here about a paper he wrote,” the professor said as he quickly shuffled through the papers, obviously trying to hide the real answer to Inac’s question.

  “Were you?”

  “Yup,” Tracker said, though he was extremely nervous.

  “The question is, Mr. Adamson,” the professor said, “what are you doing here? And how did you get in? The building should be locked by now?”

  “Oh, it was,” he said, giving them a momentary smile that he knew would appear almost animal-like with its ferociousness. Then, before they would be able to contemplate what it meant, he replaced it with the concerned grin of a boyfriend doing a favor for his woman. “I picked the lock because I’m here to get Hara’s phone for her. She accidentally left it here, but she’s had a horrendous
evening so I thought I would help her out.”

  “She’s with you?!” Tracker asked, unable to keep his fear and disbelief from his tone or face—the kid really needed to learn to hide his emotions.

  “Indeed,” he said, almost with a courtly flourish. “She’s asleep in my bed as we speak.”

  “You!” Tracker yelled, running at Inac, his face contorted with fury.

  Inac held up both his hands in a calming manner. “I didn’t sleep with her, if that’s what you’re freaking about,” he said to the blonde whirlwind making its way toward him like an angry Tasmanian devil on crack. “She cried herself to sleep so I put her in my bed. That’s all.”

  Tracker stopped, concern in his unremarkable blue eyes. But it was the professor who spoke next.

  “What happened to upset her?”

  Inac shrugged, loving this new twist to his game. Some people were just so much fun to mess with. “Apparently, she came by to get her phone and overheard the two of you conspiring.”

  The color drained from both of their faces.

  “You know,” Inac continued as he walked closer to the boys, “you almost had me fooled, Professor. You had me second-guessing whether or not you were part of The Order. But you, Tracker,” he said, switching his gaze, “you I never would have guessed. Why did They bring you in? You’re not Their usual type.”

  Neither one answered. Instead, the professor took in a deep, noisy breath before he asked, “What did she hear?”

  “Oh…that,” Inac replied, flippantly waving it off like he would a servant offering him wine when he was too busy plotting a war. “Just that I was going to kill her, so you were going to kidnap her before I could. She was quite upset when she overheard you and blindly ran out of here and into an extremely dangerous neighborhood where a couple of worms had it in their minds to rape her.”

  “Did they?” Tracker seemed ready to vomit.