Marek: Guardians of Hades Series Book 4

by Heaton, Felicity

  She needed water.

  She tried to stand and collapsed onto the floor at the man’s feet.

  He sighed, picked her up and set her back down on the chair. “Things are progressing more swiftly than she believed they would. This is concerning.”

  “What did you give me?” Caterina slurred, shoving both of her hands against his chest to push him away from her.

  This time, he didn’t budge. Not because he was exerting any strength to resist her, but because she was too weak. Her hands shook violently against his chest and it took all of her strength to keep them there and stop them from falling limply onto her lap.

  “A cocktail of blood, donated from various daemons in our collective.” His words wobbled in her ears but she understood them enough that a chill swept through her, a brief reprieve from the fire that was blazing in her veins, burning up her skin. He pressed his hand to her forehead again and she leaned into it, desperate for the coolness of his touch, her eyes slipping shut despite what he said next. “It will not be long before you start exhibiting symptoms. Best you get moving, Caterina, because the one thing I know about this god—he despises daemons just as deeply as his brothers and his father.”

  She shuddered as his words swam in her ears, the warning they contained not lost on her because she had witnessed Marek’s hatred of daemons. It had shone in his eyes when he had spoken of them.

  It ran as deep as his hatred of vampires.

  “The daemon infection might kill her if I do not draw it out of her soon. The dose was too strong. She messed it up.” The man looked at Lisabeta, a flicker of what might have passed as concern in his eyes. Caterina doubted the concern was for her. He was worried that Marek might see what she was becoming before she could do as he wanted and lure him into a trap. His violet gaze shifted back to her and hardened again, even as his voice softened to lull her. “You must work fast, Caterina. What will happen to your brother if you die?”

  Caterina shook as she imagined Guillem alone in this world. He would lose his way, would slip into the darkness like the other vampires. He needed her to be strong, brave, and to do whatever was necessary to save him. She would be all those things for him. She would do what was needed.

  She didn’t know Marek.

  Not really.

  She kept telling herself that, but it didn’t settle the sickness brewing in her stomach.

  The man rose to his feet and held his hand out to Lisabeta. She slipped hers into it and stepped up to him, her black lips stretching into a satisfied smile as he wrapped his arm around her. Behind him, purple-black smoke swirled, spreading outwards like clouds laced with green and violet lightning until it was taller than he was and wider than both of them.

  “Move swiftly, Caterina.” He stepped backwards with the woman into the smoke, his voice lingering in the room as it dissipated to leave her alone in it.

  Her stomach twisted, every muscle in her body spasming as she bent over and retched, dry-heaving between her knees. She wrapped her arms around herself, her teeth chattering as she struggled to hold herself together. She was falling apart. She swore she could feel it as pieces of her fell away.

  A voice sounded in her ears, or perhaps she was imagining it. Her hearing was distorted, nothing more than white noise as she held on to herself.

  She didn’t resist as arms lifted her, cradling her aching body against a cool chest. She slumped into it, seeking the cold to ease the burning in her blood. A cry rolled up her throat as her muscles spasmed again, cramping so hard she felt sure her bones would break. Her breaths shortened with each terrible shudder that wracked her, which left her feeling more brittle, on the verge of dying.

  “Shh, Caterina.” Guillem’s sweet voice. “I’ll take care of you.”

  Tears lined her eyes, hot against her skin despite the fact she was burning up, and she sagged against him.

  “Rest now.”

  Those words were black magic, reaching deep into her soul to loosen the part of her that was clinging to consciousness.

  She dropped into the welcoming darkness.

  Chapter 12

  Caterina’s stomach cramped despite the two burgers and large fries she had devoured. She rubbed it through her black tank, trying to ease the cramp even when she knew it was impossible. After waking from what Guillem had told her had been a three-day sleep, she hadn’t felt at all as she had expected based on how she had felt before she had passed out.

  She felt strong.

  And ravenous.

  No matter how much she ate, it only ever took the edge off her hunger. It never satisfied it. It never tasted right. Juicy steak. Tapas of every variety. Fast food. She had tried it all and all of it lacked whatever it was her body now demanded.

  She craved something else. She wasn’t sure what, and part of her didn’t want to contemplate it.

  She moved along the Ramblas, a broad street that cut through the heart of Barcelona, stretching from the huge Plaça de Catalunya in the centre of the main tourist area down to the harbour. The hour was early, the stores that set up along the wide tree-lined pedestrian avenue that ran along the centre of it still open and doing business. Cars passed along the single-lane roads on either side of her, the pavements beyond them busy with tourists and locals. The heat of day was breaking as night closed in, and everyone seemed determined to take advantage of it.

  Which had drawn out more than just the local pickpockets who lurked beneath the trees and blended with the crowd, determined to take their fill tonight.

  She had spotted at least one vampire lurking in the shadow of a building, avoiding the weak evening light. The woman had been watching the crowd as it moved across the entrance to the market.

  Caterina had studied her for a while before moving on. She wouldn’t find her quarry by tracking a single vampire.

  Marek would be hunting for a group of them, the ones who had been at the nest that night they had met. They had killed five of them that night, and a further three the next night. That left four from the original nest.

  She scanned the crowd, sure they would be hunting tonight. It was so busy on the Ramblas that it was like a buffet for the vampires. They could easily pick out some prime prey to follow down one of the many roads that led off the main avenue, and there were plenty of dark corners on those roads, perfect for pulling prey into for a quick bite to eat.

  A multi-coloured haze suddenly appeared over all the people around her and she stopped dead, her heart hammering so fast she felt sick as she blinked.

  The colours didn’t disappear as expected.

  Caterina pressed her hand to her head and moved to the nearest tree, rested her back against the rough bark as she breathed, waiting for the weird spell to pass.

  It grew stronger as she settled, and the panic started to fade as she began to track a few of the passing people and realised something.

  The colours changed as they spoke to their friends, the shimmering haloes that surrounded them shifting as their expressions altered, and sometimes when they didn’t.

  Was she seeing… emotions?

  She shook her head at that. It wasn’t possible. She was just tired still, overwrought and stressed out because she was a walking carrier of daemon blood, and getting her life back depended on her finding a man who she had stood up several days ago, one who probably never wanted to see her again now.

  The colours remained, mocking her. They continued to change, one hue morphing into another. Red. Green. Blue. Violet. Even a shadowy sort of black. That one clung to a man who was loitering on the other side of the pedestrian area to her, his eyes scanning the crowd. Could she see evil intent?

  What daemon had this ability come from?

  The man had given her a cocktail of them apparently. How many abilities could she expect to experience before she finally got the cure, or died?

  Caterina sucked down a breath. “Not necessarily die. He said I might die.”

  Which meant she might live.

  Her body might
be able to absorb all these new abilities and she might emerge from the process as something new.

  But something that was no doubt going to be a daemon.

  So just rolling with the punches wasn’t going to happen. She needed to find Marek and get the cure, and save her brother. She was not going to become a daemon, not when her brother was going to emerge from the darkness at last, free of its stain and able to live his life again.

  As a human.

  Caterina forced herself to keep moving. She was wasting time. She needed to find Marek and, well, she wasn’t sure what her plan was. Finding Marek was step one. She was sure step two would come to her once she had achieved step one.

  She wasn’t even sure he was in Barcelona.

  She took a left, crossing the road to follow the pedestrian shopping street that would take her to the Plaça Reial. When she reached it, she slowed her steps, scouting the corners of the busy square. She did a lap, ignoring all the street vendors who tried to sell to her, and the waiters offering her dinner. She wasn’t hungry. Not for food anyway.

  She idly rubbed her stomach as she left the square and headed back towards the nest.

  The wooden door was ajar when she reached it.

  Caterina paused and listened.

  And heard everything.

  Her eyes widened as a cacophony of sounds reached her ears. People talking. Cars moving. Creatures scurrying. Someone breathing.

  She heard it all as if it was happening right next to her.

  Heat bloomed in her face, rapidly building into an inferno, and she reached out to her right and pressed her hand to the wall to steady herself as her head spun. This wasn’t good.

  Voices came from behind her and panic set her feet to autopilot. She stumbled inside the nest, closing the heavy door behind her and resting her back against it as she breathed, focusing on each one in an attempt to settle herself. She was strong. She could survive this. She cursed the man, cursed him again when the first one didn’t satisfy her in the slightest.

  The dose had been too damned strong.

  How was she meant to get anywhere with Marek when she felt as if she was going to collapse at any second?

  “Caterina?” His deep voice rolled over her, and she thought she was imagining it at first, was hearing it because part of her was desperate to see him again.

  And not because she wanted to get her cure and save her brother.

  He hunted daemons. He could tell her what the man had done to her, what she could expect to happen.

  She crushed that thought.

  She couldn’t tell him. Not because telling him would mean no cure for her or her brother.

  But because he would kill her.

  She was becoming a daemon now.

  It made things easier for her in a way. There was no point in falling for a man who would hunt and kill her if he knew what she was becoming.

  “You never showed.” He had moved closer, his voice louder now, holding a hard note that spoke of irritation and disappointment.

  She slowly opened her eyes, wanting to know what colours those emotions were. Apparently, they were no colour at all, or her new ability was broken.

  “Sorry,” she murmured and resisted the temptation to peer more closely at him to see if she could make the colours appear. “I didn’t mean to.”

  Maybe she could switch it on and off? She pushed away from the door. Her legs were steadier and the heat that gripped her was breaking. That was good.

  Maybe he wouldn’t notice something was wrong with her.

  “Your cheeks are flushed.” He inched closer, his dark eyebrows drawing down as he pointed to her face. “Are you sick?”

  She nodded. More sick than he knew. More sick than she wanted him to know.

  She pressed the back of her hand to her right cheek. “I’ve been under the weather. It’s the only reason you beat me to these vampires.”

  She didn’t look at the two bodies that were fizzing just behind him, one slumped over the other.

  Marek did. He cast them a black look. “They were foolish enough to return. One even gave up another location for us to check.”

  Caterina clung to that word. Us. Marek wasn’t going to push her away because she had stood him up. That was good, wasn’t it?

  So why did part of her want to scream at him that he needed to get away from her?

  She shut that part of her heart down and tried not to let it affect her. She had to save Guillem.

  She did look at the slain vampires now.

  If she didn’t, Guillem might end up like them, killed and left to rot away and turn to dust.

  Slaughtered by a god with a vendetta.

  She could recognise one when she saw one. She had been treading the same angry path as him. Was still treading it. Even if she managed to save Guillem, the compulsion to destroy vampires would still have its claws in her. She knew that.

  Even if she managed to save Guillem?

  She frowned.

  When she saved Guillem.

  She stared at the decaying bodies, fear snaking black tendrils around her heart as they rapidly disintegrated, as Marek cleaned his knife on the clothing of the one on top and sheathed it.

  Would Guillem stay home tonight as she had asked? She didn’t want him visiting the bars as he often did, drawn to them by the overpowering need for blood. She didn’t want him out in the city when Marek was in it.

  What if they crossed paths?

  She shook at the thought, limbs trembling as the tendrils of fear became icy claws that sunk into her heart.

  “If you are sick, you should be resting.” Marek’s palm brushed her cheek, the sudden heat of him sending a wave of panic crashing over her.

  She hadn’t noticed him closing the distance between them.

  She slapped his hand away, the fear sinking so deep into her now that she wanted to bolt. She couldn’t let him touch her. She had let him touch her. Did he know what she was now?

  Her eyes leaped to his, despite the part of her that was afraid of what she might see in them.

  He frowned at the hand she had smacked away, and then his rugged features softened as his gaze drifted to meet hers, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.

  “I might make you sick,” she stuttered, latching on to that excuse and hoping he bought it.

  “I can’t get sick.” He curled his hand into a fist and lowered it to his side.

  “Because you’re a god,” she whispered, and regretted it when his face darkened, his eyes shifting towards black as suspicion formed in them. Damn. She needed to explain herself and fast, before he called her on the fact she knew what he was when he had never told her. “You talked about the Underworld and Olympus, and about gods and things. I thought perhaps because you hunt daemons, you were a god. You seem strong enough to be one.”

  And clever enough to see right through that weak compliment to the truth she was trying to hide.

  He said nothing, just kept looking at her, scrutinising her as she sweated. She rubbed her forehead again, grimaced as her hand came away slick.

  The weird colour haze popped into existence around him, a red shimmer with dashes of black and gold. She had no clue what that meant. Was it a bad sign or a good one? The damned bastard who had done this to her could have at least given her a breakdown of what to expect. This could be a power that would be handy in her mission to lure Marek for him.

  She wanted to vomit at that thought.

  Or maybe she just wanted to vomit.

  Her stomach cramped hard.

  She doubled over.

  “Caterina, you are sick. You must rest.” Marek reached for her and hesitated before placing his hand on her shoulder.

  It was only a brief pause, but he had hesitated to touch her. She was already screwing this up, pushing him away when she was meant to be drawing him closer.

  Because now that she was with him again, there was a part of her that wasn’t sure she could go through with it?

  That didn’t want
to do this to him.

  He rubbed her back, gentle soothing circles over her tank that had her breath coming more easily and the pain subsiding as she focused on them.

  “It’ll pass.” She hoped.

  She braced her hands against her black-jeans-clad knees and gave herself a moment. It had nothing to do with how good it felt to have Marek’s hand on her, his light touch filled with concern. She closed her eyes and hung her head, so her fair hair concealed her face from him and she could wage war with herself in private, without giving everything away.

  She had to do this. It was Marek or her brother.

  Caterina straightened and Marek’s hand slid to her shoulder. He helped her up, held her as she waited for a dizzy spell to pass, and did his best to make this all so much harder on her as he smiled, worry shining in his dark eyes.

  She looked away before she could fall into them and under his spell. “Two more to go then.”

  His gaze didn’t leave her face. “More than two according to the intel one of them gave to me in the hope I would let him go. He mentioned fresh recruits and some more rolling in from the countryside.”

  “Why are so many of them gathering in the city?” She risked meeting his gaze again and the heat that swept through her this time had nothing to do with the daemon blood in her veins. “I’ve never seen activity like this before.”

  Marek pivoted away from her and crossed the courtyard to the decaying corpses, his boots loud on the flagstones, filling the silence that felt too tense to her.

  He squatted next to the dead vampires and studied them. “Sometimes rats gather together. Maybe they think there’s safety in numbers?”

  He chuckled, the sinister sound sending a chill tumbling down her spine as something dawned on her.

  He relished the fact the vampires were gathering.

  Because it made it easier for him to kill them.

  “Why do you hunt vampires?” She couldn’t stop that question from leaving her lips as she stared at him.

  He didn’t look at her as he stood, his eyes remaining locked on the vampires lying dead at his feet, a place he clearly believed they belonged. His eyebrows drew down, and that aura that flickered around him shimmered with shades of crimson, tinted with flares of blue.