The Mark of Cain

by A D Seeley

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  ***

  “Cain?” Hara stated, trying to keep Tracker from realizing that she thought he’d just taken a walk off the deep end. Talk of someone wanting her dead had made her question his sanity, but this…he was completely non-linear.

  “Yes, Hara, Cain. As in Cain and Abel Cain.”

  “Okay….”

  “Stop looking at me like I’m crazy!” he cried, ruffling his blonde spikes as though he was getting frustrated.

  “I’m sorry. But how do you expect me to look? You’re telling me that I’m engaged to the most infamous murderer in history!”

  “It’s true! Come on, Hara. Look at it. Inac? Rearrange the letters and you get Cain. Then Adamson?” He didn’t need to say it. Cain, Adam’s son. That’s what it meant. But still….

  “Inac’s a good man, though,” she supplied. “I don’t sense evil in him. Wouldn’t I sense that?”

  “Maybe. Let’s face it, though, you’re too trusting.” She was about to say something but he made a quieting gesture. “However, I don’t think he’s evil.”

  “But Cain is evil,” she said as though that much was obvious.

  “Cain is, yes. But Inac?”

  Having no clue where Tracker was going with this, she said, “I don’t get it.”

  “I think Inac is getting a conscience. I think he loves you.”

  Before he could go on, she snapped out a brisk, “I don’t want to talk about that because I still don’t know if I believe you.”

  “What questions do you have that you want me to answer?” he said, standing tall in a way that almost had her questioning whether it was really Tracker before her. “Ask me anything that will make you believe.”

  “I just think it’s a coincidence,” she said quickly. “His parents named him. The Mokolios hated God. Who’s to say that they didn’t just make his name the letters of Cain on purpose?”

  Tracker was definitely frustrated now as he groaned and raked his fingers through his hair. “He knows all about the Mokolio leaders because he’s been all of them,” he said in a voice dripping with the same annoyance she felt with this subject.

  “And that’s supposed to convince me? Telling me that Inac was really Vlad the Impaler and Attila the Hun? You’re nuts.” She turned away from him, but he grabbed her by both her shoulders and physically turned her back around.

  “How else could he know every detail of the Mokolios’ history?”

  “They’re called records, Tracker. You know? Like a secretary writes down everything that happens?”

  “Not that much. Secret societies aren’t gonna write down things they don’t want other people to find out.”

  “Okay,” she said, folding her arms and tapping her foot in annoyance. “Let’s say you’re telling the truth, why would Inac want me dead? And why wouldn’t he have done it by now?”

  Tracker looked at the floor, whispering as though reciting, “There’s a great work for you on this Earth; a prophecy from five hundred years ago that goes against what he’s been working at.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. But only for a moment. Feeling suddenly sad herself, she cupped a hand around Tracker’s cherubic cheek.

  “You really need to get help,” she said quietly in what she hoped was a soothing voice.

  “Don’t patronize me!” he shouted, flinging her hand away.

  Before she could say anything further, the door opened and Inac walked in, a worried look on his face. “Is everything okay?” he asked, looking them both over.

  “Fine,” she said, blushing, trying to look in his eyes though her body kept trying to make her look away. She was embarrassed for even having entertained the idea for a millisecond.

  “No!” Tracker shouted as he stalked toward Inac. “The Order’s coming to take Hara where you won’t ever find her, but she won’t believe me!”

  Hara forgot her shame so she could watch Inac’s expression. But, like always, it only gave away a moment of surprise. A moment of surprise followed, not by disbelief like she’d expected, but acceptance.

  “I figured They would after the state you found us in when you walked in on us today,” he said, nodding.

  The world seemed to fall out from under her feet. She was reeling, barely aware of strong arms catching her. She hadn’t thought that her entire world view could be shattered with only a few simple words.

  “It’s not true. Tell me it’s not true,” she mumbled over and over again into Inac’s arms; she knew they belonged to him because his scent flowed in with her heaving breaths, relaxing her along with the comforting whispers he was saying into her ear.

  “Shh. I won’t let Them take you,” he was saying. “I won’t let Them near you.”

  She pulled away to gaze up at him, tears she hadn’t realized she’d been crying pouring down her face.

  “Inac?”

  “What, babe?” he asked with a gentle smile that told her how much it just couldn’t be true….

  “Did you really murder my family?”

  His brow furrowed for an instant in sadness. However, he didn’t seem to feel any shame or guilt.

  After a few moments, hard jaw set, he said, “Not personally.”

  She hadn’t expected him to confess, so the fact that he did angered her.

  “You’re telling me the truth now?!” she cried as she pulled away from him.

  “Well, apparently you’re going to find out from The Order. You may as well find out from me so you can get my side of the story,” he said with an edge to his voice that told her that he felt like he was the victim here.

  “I’m not interested in your side, Cain,” she spat, smacking away the hand he was moving toward her face; probably an attempt to calm her.

  Now his surprise showed all over and he rounded on Tracker. “You told her?!”

  She hadn’t really believed it until now. He really was Cain. No wonder the entire staff was so scared of him….

  “Oh my gosh. Am I the only one who didn’t know?” she finally asked as she looked between her men. She felt dizzy in her peripheral, like she might pass out if any more secrets found light today.

  “The Order runs this place,” Inac—no, Cain—answered. “Probably because you’re here. They brought you here to protect you after I had your family killed. They let me think that you were the little girl who died. Hadn’t you ever wondered why an orphan girl from California would be shipped all the way out to New Hampshire?”

  Everything in her life was fitting into a new puzzle. It couldn’t have come together, though, without these new pieces. Inac was Cain and had always been in charge of the Mokolios. He had killed her family to get rid of her because the prophecy he’d told her about that the Mokolios were trying to prevent somehow had to do with her. Father Carroll had been protecting her. And she had been the bug attracted to the pretty light in the zapper….

  “So are you going to kill me now?” she accused, the dizziness gone as her emotions ran cold. “You may as well. You’ve taken everything else from me.” She couldn’t believe she’d slept with him.

  “Hara,” he said as he reached toward her again, sounding as sad as he looked.

  “No, Inac. You’ve been pretending to care. Well now I know the truth and…and this is what I think about that,” she said, pulling off the engagement ring and throwing it at his face.

  “Ow! Hara! What was that for? That really hurt!” he cried as he covered the eye it had hit.

  She hadn’t meant to hit him in the eye so she felt a moment of guilt at his pain. But then she remembered that he was responsible for her family’s deaths.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she hissed. With a step forward with each reason, she yelled, “Maybe for you planning to murder me! Maybe for murdering my family! Maybe for pretending to love me so you could sleep with me!”

  “It was business!” he cried, backing up with each step forward she made, as if that made it okay, his hands in a placating manner.

  “
Business? Business?!” she shrieked. “Is that what we were? I was your personal whore?!” She started hitting him then, over and over again on his chest until he firmly grabbed her wrists. A part of her noticed that, although he was holding her firmly, it was also gently. Like he didn’t want to hurt her.

  A voice in her mind said, “See? He loves you.”

  To squash it, she started kicking at him instead, relishing each blessed connection she made with his shins.

  “Ow! Hara, stop!” And when she wouldn’t, “Will you help me, Tracker?! She’s going to hurt herself!”

  More hands joined the fray.

  “I don’t care if I hurt myself as long as I hurt you!” she screamed. “I hate you! I hate you!”

  “That’s fine. You can hate me. Just don’t hurt yourself.”

  The hands held her still until she was standing, facing Inac. Without even knowing what she was doing, she hocked a logie into his eye, proud at her aim since she’d never spit on someone before—Tracker had attempted to teach her numerous times, taking her on the grass at the orphanage and showing her his tricks. Apparently she’d learned better than either of them had thought she had.

  “Hara, please stop,” Inac begged as he wiped his eye on his shoulder without letting go of her wrists—Tracker had her body. “It wasn’t personal.”

  “I was just a pawn in your war?” She hadn’t realized that she could hate someone so much. It was probably because she felt so betrayed. She had loved this man with every ounce of her being, and he had been pretending the entire time.

  He nodded, a sympathy and shame in his eyes that she’d never seen before. “In all fairness, this was all planned hundreds of years ago. Before I even met you.”

  That made Hara break down all over again. She didn’t know why, but maybe it was because that was the closest thing to an apology she would ever get from Cain.

  She found herself in his arms. Even though they belonged to the man who had caused her so much pain, they were also the only place she felt completely home. She belonged in them. If only he hadn’t ruined everything…. If only he really could be the person he’d pretended to be. The one softly rubbing her back like he actually cared….

  She pulled her face away from his chest, rubbing at the tears on her face with the back of her hand. “You can stop acting now.”

  Just as he opened his mouth to speak, a knock sounded on the door.

  “Hara?” Father Carroll’s voice called.

  “Come in,” she said. “You might as well.”

  He came in, followed by a couple of burly men dressed in all black with…were those guns tucked into their pants?

  They stopped short upon sight of Inac, his arms around her still. They looked him up and down, their hands tightening and moving fractionally toward their guns. She herself was frozen between them all, scared of where this was going.

  “Hara? Will you come with me for a second?” Father Carroll asked. Suddenly, these men and their guns clicked into place.

  “These are the men taking me wherever you’re planning on hiding me?”

  Father Carroll threw an accusing look at Tracker. Track just shrugged and said, “I already told you how I feel about all this.”

  She could feel a fight coming in the air. The pressure was heightening with every moment that the tension mounted. To stop it all, she cleared her throat.

  “Don’t I get a say in this?” she said as she loosed herself from Inac’s gentle grip.

  After a few moments, Tracker asked, “What would you like to do, Hara?”

  “Well…as I see it, why should I go with any of you? I mean, my fiancé’s really Cain and plans to murder me, and you, Father Carroll, have lied to me my entire life.”

  “We’ve only done that to protect you,” he said with sorry eyes.

  “No. You did it for selfish reasons. You’ve done it so that I can fulfill your stupid prophecy. Well guess what? I’m nobody special. I’m just a normal human girl that you put your faith in. Don’t you see how wrong that is? Your faith should be in the Holy Trinity, not a young girl who will make mistakes as big as I have,” she said, glancing at Inac. He looked so defeated and depressed that she just wanted to kiss him. The fire and strength in him that made him, well, him, was absent. He almost looked deflated. Like a shriveled balloon complete with stretch marks and saggy spots to show how full of air it had once been. It was really sad….

  Would she ever get over this man? She thought not. He had created the perfect character to win her heart. And once someone had your heart, you could never get it back. Not really.

  Turning back to the three men in the doorway, she said, “So that’s why I’m saying get out of my face to all of you. I’m going to go back to my life at school.”

  “But he’ll kill you!” Father Carroll cried.

  Lifting her chin high until she probably appeared ready for battle, she said, “Then that’s God’s plan for me. Now if you’ll all please leave me alone, I’m tired and want to go to bed.”

  Nobody moved an inch so she gave them all a look full of that new hate she had been filled with earlier. It had dissipated with her tears, but she figured that she could pretend for a few seconds.

  It worked. They all began to walk out.

  “Oh, and Inac?” she called as he made it to the door. He turned around, a hope in his eyes that tied a knot around her heart and squeezed it tight until she felt it would burst from the pressure. “I expect you to be gone when I wake up. And please, I don’t want to see you again, so can you not come to the club anymore?”

  He nodded, the hope shattering just as her heart was. “At least let me leave you the jet to get back….”

  She shook her head. “I’ll find a way home myself.”

  He gave her a despondent half-smile and left. Tracker was almost through the door when he turned back to her.

  “Do you hate me, too?” he asked like that little puppy he embodied so well.

  “No,” she said with her own small smile. “You were brought into this. And probably not by choice.”

  “Not by choice at all,” he agreed.

  “And you’ve been following orders.”

  “Until tonight when I broke them all.” He looked down at his feet—at the tennis shoes that she kept wishing he’d replace because they were falling apart. When he did this, it always meant that he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure whether or not he should.

  “Go ahead, Track. What do you want to say?”

  “He really does love you, you know,” he said to his feet.

  She couldn’t breathe past the lump in her throat. “No—”

  “Yes!” Track said, his voice rising as his eyes did until he was looking her in the eye. “You don’t know what being with you has done to him. He now has nightmares about the things he’s done. They make him throw up. Plus, you don’t know what’s happened to make him hate….”

  She sat down on her bed. Patting the blanket next to her, she said, “Why don’t you tell me? Tell me everything. I think I’ve earned it.”

  As he took his place beside her, his hands clasped in his lap as though he was trying to make himself as small as possible, he whispered, “I’ll tell you what I know about what brought him to war with God. But everything else I know comes from The Order so I don’t know how much of it I can believe.”

  “And what makes you think that ‘Inac’ wasn’t lying?”

  “I just know.” And Tracker truly believed it. He believed it so much that she felt she should at least hear him out and make her own conclusions.

  Putting a hand on one of his, she took in a breath, bracing herself for what was to come. “Okay. Start.”

  “Well, it all started with the curse….”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  ***

  Inac stared at the sleek silver cell phone on his coffee table. A part of him kept hoping that it would ring and Hara would be on the other line. When a week passed and she still hadn’t called, he knew they were re
ally over. Still, it wasn’t until a miserable month had passed before he could admit that they were done. He didn’t know why he cared…he was probably just upset that he hadn’t corrupted her as far as he could have. On the other hand, he’d been able to do so further than he’d thought he would be able to. That was proven by how violent she had become when she’d found out the truth about him. In any case, it would have to do.

  “Santoni, we need to make plans. I’m tired of Hara,” Inac said into his phone, pulling at his fresh beard—he hadn’t done more for his hygiene than basic showers for the past month.

  “When and how would you like me to get rid of her?” his man’s deep voice asked.

  Inac sighed. “I don’t care when. You look at her schedule and choose when. But how; I want you to shoot her in the chest. Don’t mar her face.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And let me know before it goes down. I want to watch. I have to see it work this time.”

  “Yes, sir. I think Saturday when she gets off work will work nicely. The parking lot will be dark and empty. Besides, it will be the first day of a new year.”

  “Signifying a new year starting right?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Okay. New Year’s Day. The police and EMS will be busy with all the drunks. She’ll be dead for sure before they can get to her.”

  “And then you’ll win, sir.”

  “Yes. And then I’ll win.” So why did he feel like he’d already lost?

  ***

  No matter how much Hara had tried to go back to her life before Inac, she couldn’t. How could she when she wasn’t the same person? She wasn’t the future nun who went to mass a few times a week and thought “gosh” was a swear word. She thought she’d be better after the holidays, but Christmas had been horrible. She’d spent it lying in her bed, crying over Inac. Poor Crystal had invited her home with her, and Hara had gone with her, but she hadn’t left the bedroom the entire time.

  She knew that Crystal was worried about her. But Crystal didn’t know how worried she really should be. She just thought that Hara had found out that Inac was an assassin for the government—Tracker’s idea of a believable story—and not that he was really Cain and wanted to kill her.