The Marked and the Broken

by Ivy Asher

  I don’t know what the runes on Becket or his coven mean, but I’m sure, in this moment, that however they connect Becket to me, he’s going to want to cut those runes from his skin when he hears the rest of what I have to tell him. There is no part of I killed your dad tonight that’s going to be okay for him, and I gear up for the shitstorm of a reaction I know is about to come my way. Sabin steps closer to my side and places a hand on the small of my back.

  “Elder Albrecht and Elder Balfour hired a group of shifters to kidnap Vinna. They attacked us tonight,” Sabin tells Becket, who immediately bristles at the information.

  “Why would my dad do that?” Becket challenges.

  “They wanted Vinna to transfer her magic to them.”

  I suppress a shudder at Sabin’s words and watch as Becket grows even more puzzled.

  “I thought you had to fuck them in order to give them your magic?” Becket asks, tipping his chin toward my Chosen.

  Sabin and I both stay quiet, and the bewilderment Becket’s wearing quickly snaps into outrage.

  “My dad is an elder. He’s not a rapist, and he sure as hell isn’t helping some leech kidnap and kill his own people. My dad loves this community! He would never jeopardize it!”

  “Elder Cleary heard him confess everything before…” Sabin trails off. Silence fills up the space of what he’s not saying, and it presses in on me and makes my heart start to race.

  At hearing his dad was also somehow involved, Enoch’s head snaps to Sabin.

  “Before what?” Becket demands, but I can hear the sliver of hesitancy in his voice. I know that sliver. It screams don’t tell me, don’t confirm my worst fear, let me stay ignorant just a little longer.

  Sabin takes a fortifying breath, ready to deliver the news and become the bringer of pain. I appreciate him so much for wanting to take that off my shoulders, but no matter how much I want to pass the buck right now, the reality is what I did will shatter Becket’s world, and I have to own that. When I watched the life leak out of Elder Albrecht’s face, I knew the world would be better off without him. But as I sit here and stare at the fear and anger in Becket’s features, I see another side to this, one I hadn’t given much thought to. I don’t know if Becket will be better off without his dad. Elder Albrecht was a power-hungry monster, but maybe not to his son. To Becket, he could have just been a good dad who loved his kid.

  “Before what?” he insists again.

  “Before I killed him,” I say, meeting Becket’s eyes, and everything else in the room fades away.

  Becket and I watch each other for a moment, and it’s as if I can see my words wrapping around him, sinking in, and changing who he is right in front of my eyes. Becket’s face scrunches up in agony, and the desolation that pulses out of him feels like a vicious punch to the gut. I deserve it, and I stand strong to take it.

  He starts to shake his head as if somehow the movement alone can keep it all from being true. He looks so fucking lost, and I hate it. I’ve been where he is right now, on the receiving end of devastating news. News that’s impossible to recover from. I remember looking through a glass window at my little sister laid out on a stainless steel table. There was a stiff white sheet draped over her, black bruises marring her little neck, and an emptiness in her eyes, the room, and my soul. I’ll never forget the sound of the police officer’s voice as he recounted how she died. I know what it feels like when death robs you of something precious.

  The officers showed me a picture of Laiken’s murderer. They asked me if I knew him, before they delivered the blow of what he did to her. I can never recall all the details of that man’s face. Maybe if they had shown me his picture after I had been clued in to what he took from me, it would be seared into my brain. Becket stares at me, and I know there won’t be a haze over the memory of his dad’s killer. Whenever this moment haunts him in the future, it will always be a clear picture of me in his mind.

  Tears pool in his brown eyes, and his pain practically reaches out to hold hands with my own. I take a step toward him.

  “Don’t you fucking come near me,” he warns, and his grief morphs into cold rage. “You stay the fuck away from me, do you hear me?” he yells as he steps back, demanding more distance between us.

  Sorrow moves through me like an icy breeze, and I immediately retreat, my back meeting a wall of Chosen.

  “Beck,” Enoch consoles as he steps toward his friend. I can see the sorry that sits on Enoch’s lips, but Becket rounds on him before Enoch can offer it.

  “Your dad did this! He’s the twisted one, not my dad!” Becket accuses, and the sympathy on Enoch’s face is quickly replaced by indignation.

  Nash and Kallan step between their coven mates, both of them offering consolation and trying to keep things from escalating as Becket and Enoch square off against each other. They both go quiet after a minute, and tension seeps from everyone in the room. Enoch pulls his phone from his pocket, and after a couple swipes and clicks of the screen, it starts ringing, the shrill sound slicing through the thick fog of anger that surrounds all of us.

  “Hey, son,” Elder Cleary answers. “Can I call you back a little later? Things are a bit crazy at the moment.”

  “Dad, I’m at Vinna’s house. She just told us what happened.”

  “Oh,” Elder Cleary responds surprised. “Is your coven there with you?” he asks.

  “Yes,” Enoch responds.

  “Okay, I have her address. I’m going to send some paladin there. They’ll escort Becket here; we need to ask him some questions and make sure he isn’t somehow tangled up in this mess his dad created,” Elder Cleary tells Enoch, his tone distracted.

  “My dad wouldn’t have done any of this! I don’t care what you’re trying to pin on him, I know him!” Becket shouts, and Elder Cleary swears.

  “Am I on speakerphone, Enoch?” Elder Cleary demands. “You should know better than that,” he chastises his son, and Enoch hurries to take his dad off speaker and quickly steps away from us to continue the rest of the conversation more privately.

  Becket runs his hands through his golden brown hair, and every inch of him is pulsing with frustration and disbelief. Kallan and Nash watch him, and they look unsure of what to do or what to say. I wish someone would just hug him, but he doesn’t want to hear from me, so I continue to just shut the fuck up.

  “I’m out of here,” Becket announces suddenly. “I need to get to the bottom of this, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to trust his dad to do it.” Becket points at Enoch and then gives the rest of us a scathing look before he turns toward the door.

  Enoch shoves his phone back into his pocket and steps into Becket’s path, and Becket’s features become murderous.

  “Oh it’s like that, Cleary? One word from daddy, and you’re ready to betray your own coven…again?” Becket’s chest heaves as he pulls in angry breaths. “The fact that anyone thinks they can pin this on my dad, after the shit you and your dad pull on the regular, is a fucking joke. Move.”

  Becket takes another step toward Enoch, and a red mist forms just above Enoch’s upturned palm. I’m shocked that Enoch’s just threatened Becket, and I don’t miss the hurt that courses through Becket’s brown eyes and is gone in a flash. A bright yellow barrier pops into place around Becket, but the violet hues that appear to slither in and out of his barrier give all of us pause. My eyes snap from Becket’s dual colored magic to Enoch’s. I spot purple flashes sparking in and out of the red mist still hovering over Enoch’s hand.

  I’ve trained with this coven a lot, so I know that Enoch’s Offensive magic is fire engine red, his Elemental magic is an olive green, and Becket’s Defensive magic is always bright, lemon yellow. I watch the violet flickers that invade both of their magic, and I could fucking scream in frustration. There is obviously a connection now, but what the fuck is it? And is it to Sentinel magic or to me? Am I wrong?

  Are they Chosen? And if they are, then whose?

  2

  “Just let him
go, E,” Nash tells his coven mate. “He has a right to find out for himself what happened. He said he didn’t know, and we should trust him. He’s coven.”

  At Nash’s words, I remember my lie detector with paws. I turn to Torrez, but I don’t even have to ask him before he nods his head once at me. “He didn’t know about the connection between his dad and the leech, and he genuinely thinks his dad isn’t capable of anything that you and Slytherin over there said.”

  I cock an eyebrow at Torrez. “Slytherin, really?”

  “Yeah, it’s not my best work. I’ll google wizard nicknames later,” he tells me with a straight face, and Ryker gives an amused snort behind me.

  I turn my attention back to the standoff between Enoch and Becket. They’re just staring at each other, and I can practically see the debate that’s going on in Enoch’s head. After a moment of pause, the red mist hovering above his palm disappears, and he steps away from the door. Becket doesn’t release his hold on the barrier that’s surrounding him as he walks past his coven mate without a word. We all stand there watching the door slam shut, none of us really sure what to do or say.

  “Do you think my dad was involved?” Enoch asks, his uncertain pewter-blue eyes landing on mine.

  “I don’t have the built-in lie detector like he does,” I say, pointing at Torrez, “but he seemed surprised when he walked in on what was happening, and he helped Sabin and me get out of there.” Which shocked the fuck out of me. I decide to censor that last part.

  “Why’d you break my dad’s nose then?” he queries, and I can’t tell if he’s bothered by that fact or still just trying to put the pieces together. I can just picture Elder Cleary whining about it to his son over the phone.

  I shrug. “Anger issues. I get especially ragey when I’m threatened.”

  “I thought you said he helped you?”

  “Yeah, with this he did, but he also threatened me at the dinner from hell,” I remind him.

  My statement makes me think of Becket’s mom and how she came for me between the third and nine-thousandth course. Pretty sure taking out one of her mates isn’t going to cause her feelings to thaw for me anytime soon.

  Enoch surprises me when he just nods and runs his fingers through his disheveled blond hair. “Fair enough,” he tells me and holds up his hand. “So if these aren’t mate marks, what are they?”

  “No fucking clue,” I answer honestly.

  “So then they could be mate marks?” Nash counters. He tucks a black curly lock behind his ear, and his dark blue eyes meet mine, his gaze challenging. Someone behind me gives an irritated huff.

  “Wishful thinking, asshole, but you’ll never be one of us,” Knox announces, and everyone in the room bristles.

  “Fuck you, Howell. It’s not your choice to make,” Kallan spits back.

  And now we’ve come full circle, because everyone is back to wanting to fuck each other up.

  “Enough!” bellows throughout the room, and I turn to find Aydin’s giant, pissed off ass stomping to get in the middle of things. “We don’t have time for this shit. You all can decide who wins this fight later, but spoilers…it will be Vinna. She can kick all of your asses, probably at the same time.”

  I smile at Aydin, and he tilts his head at me in acknowledgement.

  “We have to go, so this pissing match will need to be rescheduled for a later date,” he announces.

  “Where are you going?” Enoch asks, taking a step toward me, which earns him a warning growl from Torrez and I’m pretty sure Bastien and Knox, too.

  “My dumbass uncle got himself taken by Adriel. We’re off to save the day.”

  I turn to the guys to check that we’re ready to load up and head out, when Nash’s voice spins me back around.

  “Wherever you’re going, so are we.”

  I turn and fix him with a look that oozes you’ve got to be kidding me.

  “Yeah, I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I counter.

  “Until we know what the hell is going on with these”—he lifts his shirt reminding me of the runes that now run down his sides,—“it’s probably best if we all stick together.”

  I open my mouth to argue but stop. It’s not the worst idea I’ve ever heard. We’re not exactly going to overwhelm Adriel and his nest with our current numbers, and we could use all the help we could get. My gaze wanders around the room in thought, and I catch Evrin’s brown eyes.

  “They are targets now,” he tells me, clearly hopping on a similar train of thought to the one I’m currently riding on.

  “They don’t belong with us,” Bastien argues, and Evrin throws up a hand that clearly states he doesn’t want to hear it.

  I turn to Bastien. “I may not know exactly why Enoch and the others are marked, but they’re marked. You just saw what I saw; they somehow have pieces of my—or maybe someone else’s—Sentinel magic. Not as much as you guys, but they’ll need to train and learn how to protect themselves all the same.”

  Bastien looks away from me, his eyes hard and his lips pursed like he’s trying to keep from swallowing something he finds disgusting. No one says anything, but it’s clear they’re fucking pissed.

  “We need to leave. If you can grab your passports and pack a bag in twenty minutes, we’ll wait, but we can’t give you more time than that,” Evrin announces, taking control of the decision. Nash and Enoch move for the door almost instantly. Kallan is just a beat behind them, his mouth open like he’s going to say something. He seems to decide against it, and he turns around and leaves. Evrin turns to Torrez, his eyebrows raised in question.

  “I have a passport and a go bag, but they’re in my truck about five miles south of here,” Torrez tells him.

  “Well, let’s go then,” Evrin announces and heads for the door.

  Torrez turns to me and gives me a wink. “I’ll be right back, Witch. Try not to miss me too much while I’m gone.”

  I snort with amusement and shake my head. He throws a lopsided smile my way and then disappears out the door.

  “Okay then,” Aydin says to no one in particular and then claps his hands together once. “I’ll be throwing the rest of our shit in the cars. We have a couple hours’ drive to the airport, and we will not be stopping to piss or for any other reasons.”

  “Yes, mother,” I joke and then laugh when Aydin blows an air kiss at me and then flips me off. Aydin walks out of the living room with a smile, and I turn to deal with the guys. I stop laughing when I meet each of their unamused faces.

  “We don’t need them,” Knox insists, his words and movement agitated.

  I let out a deep, tired breath. “We need all the fucking help we can get, and Evrin’s right; they’re targets now. We all know that Solace isn’t exactly safe for Sentinels.”

  “They’re not Sentinels,” Bastien counters, and I rub at the back of my neck, frustrated that they’re being so stubborn about this.

  “I don’t know what the fuck they are, but what would it hurt?” I ask. “More magic and skilled fighters in this situation is the opposite of a fucking bad thing. I get that you’re pissed, but they have runes. They need to be trained just like you do,” I tell them.

  “So you would accept them as Chosen if that’s what they turn out to be?” Knox asks, his steely gray eyes bouncing between each of mine, and I’m not sure what he’s looking for.

  “Knox, it doesn’t feel like that with them. I don’t know how to explain it. You just have to trust me when I tell you that whatever happened, it doesn’t feel like it does with you guys.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question,” Knox presses, his gaze dropping away from mine.

  I glare at him. “I know there’s history between all of you guys and their coven. I know that makes all of this harder to deal with, but I’m not trying to collect more mates. I was never trying to collect any in the first place,” I tell them exasperated. “Then you five were marked, and we happened,” I say a little softer, gesturing to all of us. “I thought I was good to go
, but then the whole Torrez thing happened. I don’t know what you want me to say. I have no control over what my magic does sometimes, and I promise that’s equally as frustrating for me as it is for you guys in this case.”

  “Answer the fucking question, Vinna,” Knox grinds out. His tone is pure vitriol, and I’m shocked to hear it coming from Knox and even more stunned that it’s directed toward me. I move to get in his face, and Ryker steps between us. “Fuck you, Knox. How the hell am I supposed to answer that? I don’t know. They don’t feel like Chosen to me, but if somehow they are, I’m—what? Just supposed to turn my back on that? I trust my magic. That’s all I can fucking say.”

  Sabin and Ryker are the only two looking at me and not wearing expressions that make me feel like I just told them they can never eat bacon again. I take a couple deep breaths and try to exhale the indignation boiling inside of me.

  “I get that this is hard, but I didn’t do any of this on purpose. I mean, I did with Torrez, but that seems all fucked up as it is, so maybe it doesn’t count. Anyway, my point is I get that you aren’t happy about the situation with Enoch and his coven, but stop acting like I did this on purpose.”

  “Torrez isn’t the problem here, and neither is your magic choosing another mate. The issue is that coven,” Bastien tells me. At the same time, Ryker asks, “What do you mean the situation with Torrez is fucked up?”

  I turn to Ryker. “I mean he has our runes on him, but none of us have his rune. I don’t think the connection is there yet, and I can’t tell you why.”

  “Maybe it’s because he’s a shifter; it’s possible your magic works differently with him than it does with casters,” Sabin hypothesizes.

  I shrug my shoulders. “Maybe, who knows? We’ll just have to wait and see, I guess.” I turn to Bastien, his hazel eyes still stony. “Like I said, I understand that you all have an issue with Enoch and his coven, but I’m not going to throw them aside and leave them to get picked off because you guys have bad blood. You can either trust me and the magic that brought us together, or not. That’s your choice,” I tell him, finality in my tone, and I hate that I can’t say for sure which he’ll actually choose.