Birthmarked

by Maria Violante

  He leaned in toward me just a little. I could see the way his smooth lips were parted, the tiny patches of stubble growing on his chin and cheeks. He must have just shaved this morning. “If I can’t motivate you to do this, I’m obviously not a fit trainer.” He leaned in a little further, and then I could smell him, a crazy, sexy smell that didn’t smell like any other man I have ever met. He oozed with so much eroticism, I thought I was going to die.

  I felt my whole body respond to his pull—and I knew something else was happening, something I wasn’t aware of. My brain dinged dimly, but then the light went out, extinguished by the need that was growing through my body.

  “Do this one thing for me, and I’ll make it worth your while. Unless you want me to leave?”

  The idea was heartbreaking. Leave? No, you can’t leave. Without knowing what had come over me, I pulled the brakes, slammed it into third, and stomped on the pedal. The truck groaned forward, and I listened to the turbo spool. I lost myself. I shifted gears. I lost myself. I shifted again. The clutch was like butter.

  We bore down on the pole, shifting up through seventh, the fog oozing through my mind. It wasn’t until the last second, until I was less than ten feet away from the pole, my brain snapped on, and I realized what was happening. But by then, it was too late.

  Holy crap—what am I doing!

  We were going to hit it. My foot started pawing for the brake.

  I felt a sudden pressure on my head, forcing it to wrench around. There was Joseph, his face half an inch from mine. He covered my lips with his, and my body caught fire as his tongue darted into my mouth. I felt like every cell of my body was suddenly alive, like I could die here happy.

  I had no regrets.

  And then we hit the pole.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Between the buzzing sound that vibrated through my head and the clouds that muddled my thoughts like alcohol, there were a lot of things I didn’t understand. Time passed in disconnected blinks, a living anthology of flash fiction, and I couldn’t string the experiences together in a cohesive storyline.

  Joseph’s lips, Joseph’s scent.

  A brilliant crash—haven’t I done this before? Where are the glass and metal?

  Joseph’s hands, Joseph’s skin.

  It’s cold—it’s hot.

  Joseph, Joseph, Joseph . . .

  Touch was the first sense to return, the first piece of becoming grounded in the real world again. I could feel the scratchy, cheap pillowcase, and I guessed that I was on my bed, facedown. I still couldn’t move, until I felt Diesel licking my fingers, his warm breath on my hand. Covered in sweat—Fear? Exertion? I don’t know—I rolled myself over, amazed at how sluggish I was.

  I really did it. I ran Joseph’s truck into a pole. There was just enough there, between the blanks, to be sure of that.

  But what had happened after that? Was the truck in pieces, or had it been modified in some way to make it pretty much indestructible? I didn’t have answers for any of my questions—or for the most important one, the one that I sensed was key to everything—what possessed me to do something so stupid?

  Of course, that wasn’t a real question. Just thinking the word “possess” brought up all sorts of naughty fantasies in my head, all of them centering on a certain green-eyed blonde. Even now, safe in my room, I couldn’t help the shudder of desire that ran through me—or the angst I felt because of it. Since when was I so thoroughly out of control of my own body? What had this man done to me and how?

  I felt something nuzzle my hand, and I started to pet what I could feel was Diesel’s head. The gentle motion chased the sludge out of my limbs. Little by little, my body felt stronger, its original vitality returning. The swirls of affection and desire, of romance, of breathlessness—faded, and as they left, I became aware of a knocking sound. On my back, I tilted my head up so I could see what was happening.

  An upside-down Buckner burst through the door in a flurry of activity, a human whirlwind of flailing arms and facial expressions. He threw his hands at me. “Thank God, you’re here. Why didn’t you answer the door? Can’t you hear the call?”

  “What call?” I almost laughed. Was there some sort of company phone I had been issued, but not aware of, maybe buried in a drawer somewhere?

  “What are you, deaf? Listen!”

  I did, and for the first time, I became aware of the ringing, a dull drone that reverberated around the edges of my consciousness, like the rumble from an engine. No wonder I was able to tune it out so easily. Three months of driving left me unable to pick out background noises unless I really tried.

  A lazy whip of irritation singed through my mind. “I didn’t even know we had a call—so how do you expected me to respond to it?”

  “Look, kiddo, we have to go, so do what you need to do, and let’s get out of here.”

  I groaned and rolled my eyes. “I’m ready.” I slid off the bed, trying to stand. Even I couldn’t help but notice the way I swayed slightly on my feet—or how sore I felt. Crashing a truck hadn’t done anything to help that.

  When I looked up, Buckner was squinting at me.

  “I’m fine.” I tossed my hair back into a little flip. “See? Glamorous as always.”

  Judging by the way his mouth puckered, he wasn’t convinced, but the ringing intensified. Finally, he caved, tilting his head to one side. “All right then, let’s go.” He waved at the dog. “Bring him too; he might come in useful.”

  I followed Buckner into the hall. At the door, Diesel pulled back slightly, and my heart broke. He was getting used to being left behind. “Come on.”

  He bounded through the door and snugged himself to my heels, and my heart lifted a little bit. I was dimly aware, still, of the fog in my head Joseph had left, but Diesel was nuzzling his way in, bringing me back to center.

  “Okay, so what gives?” Buckner drove, his shoulders hunched up, and his fingers gripping the wheel tightly enough to turn his knuckles white.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  He harrumphed. “Kiddo, we never go anywhere without you having two hundred questions. So how is it that you have nothing to say? Don’t you even want to know what we’re hunting?”

  Unbidden, Joseph’s face leaped into my mind, and I flushed with warmth. I heard Diesel whine from behind me, as if he had read my thoughts and disapproved. I laughed, but it sounded hollow, like the wind going over reeds. “Sure, I guess. I just figured you’d tell me eventually.”

  My answer was met with a snort. “You know, we’re about to go into battle here. If you can’t lay it aside or lay it on the table, it might get us all killed. So out with it and now.”

  My devil-may-care attitude faded. Instead, there was an odd tightness in my chest, one that intensified with each breath. Worse, my thoughts were beginning to swirl. I clutched at the once empty space in my head, desperate for the moment of calm I had just experienced, but it was gone.

  How much did I trust Buckner? How much could I tell him?

  Was I really any closer to finding out about my dad than before?

  What about my birthmark—and its odd light? What if everybody’s mark did that? What if nobody’s did—how much trouble would I be in?

  May I would just start with Joseph, and see how things went. “I guess Driver’s Training unnerved me a little today.”

  “Oh?” The word was high-pitched, tight, and a sudden realization hit me. Did Buckner already know what had happened with Joseph? And if he did—did he know it was going to happen in the first place?

  What if Joseph was planted, some kind of brainwashing aficionado testing me for something?

  My pulse sped up so much that my head spun. I decided to meet this issue from an angle. “I had to hit a pole with the truck.”

  Buckner chuckled. “Yeah, that exercise is always mind-bending at first. It goes against everything your body wants.”

  I tried to chuckle back. “Yeah.”

  I just barely made out the sound of b
linker over the rumble of the truck, and its light flashed on the dash. Seconds later, we were slowing down on the shoulder.

  “That’s not all of it, is it?” He gave me a hard stare that penetrated through my skin.

  “I. . ."

  The silence hung between us, long and painful, and then Buckner sighed. He lit a cigarette and rubbed at his temples. “Look, kiddo, I don’t exactly know what happened. But I know what some of Joseph’s abilities are, and I can make some guesses. They don’t work on most of us, of course—given our gender and orientation . . . I thought there might be a problem, but I didn’t have a say in it. His orders to train you come right from the top. I don’t know what’s going on, but the Cronus has something up his sleeve—hell, I didn’t even know about all of it until ten minutes before we left.”

  I stared at my hands. I didn’t know whether or not to believe him. Then again, I wasn’t even sure what had happened in the first place. Diesel jumped up into my lap and nuzzled at my thigh, his magic touch calming me down a little.

  “I’m going to try to figure this out, and when I do, I’ll do what I can. Did he . . . hurt you?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. It’s mostly blurry.”

  He sighed. “That’s good, then.” He ashed his cigarette and glanced at his mirror. There was nobody coming, so he started us back down the road.

  I could feel his unasked questions pressing in on me, but I was too chicken to answer them. “So . . . what are we hunting?”

  “Bubbler.” His voice was grim. “Two of them, and they already know we’re coming, so we don’t have to worry about being sneaky. We’ve got two dogs already, trained trackers—but you never know. Maybe your little Diesel could help. Until we figure out what his role is in this, we’ll bring him along.”

  His role?

  I didn’t know what that meant. I stopped stroking his fur for a moment, and he took the opportunity to lick my hand.

  He was innocent in all of this. He didn’t have a role.

  Did he?

  Buckner still had to park the truck, but he was nice enough to drop me off at the meeting point—a small diner at the edge of a one-stoplight town that made my heart ache. Part of me felt like if I just rounded the corner and walked two blocks, there would be the little house I grew up in—and so feared to go back to, and down the street would be the old lady who sat out front and drank her lemonade.

  Not a good time.

  I blew out, hard, and swung the glass door open. Wind chimes tinkled and a waitress materialized. The diminutive woman smacked some gum and gave me a small nod. “Sit anywhere you like.”

  I smiled and cast a glance around the room. For a moment, I worried about sitting alone—and then I found another Marker. He was obvious; the fair-skinned man and I had on the exact same outfit.

  He waved at me from a booth, and I was struck by his hair. The bright red shade flirted at the border between natural and a boxed home-kit, but any distrust that might broker was eliminated by the light spray of freckles across his cheeks and his full, luminous eyes. He was young—perhaps as young as Chris had been—and he didn’t look like he knew what he was doing here anymore than I did.

  I approached the vinyl booth and climbed in on the other side. “I’m Charlie.” I held my hand across the table, hopeful he was open-minded—I really could use another friend. “I have a dog, but he’s in the truck right now. His name is Diesel.” Mentioning the dog seemed silly, but not mentioning him felt wrong.

  “I know who you are, both of you.” A smile crept across his lips, and a little more of the fogginess in my head dispersed itself into the air. Finally, I was beginning to feel more like my old self. “I’m Josh.” He shook my hand with care.

  From the back of the room, I heard chimes again.

  “So, Diesel. The masters think he might be a familiar, right? I wonder what his powers are.”

  “His powers?”

  He gave me an odd look. “Yes. Don’t you—”

  “It’s about time you made it! Don’t you have any common decency? You can’t tell people where you are?”

  At Shawn’s belligerent tone, my face immediately started to color, and a spurt of pressure built behind my eye. I had been here three seconds, and he was already on my case? What had happened to the nice guy who brought me breakfast in bed and gave me the morning off?

  “I don’t have to tell you anything. We’re not training, and you’re not my master.”

  “Maybe not, but I’m definitely your better.”

  I jumped up from the table, but Josh was faster. “Leave her alone.”

  I hadn’t expected the redhead to butt in. In fact, save Chris and maybe Buckner, not a single one of the Markers ever acted in a way that implied they might know the word “chivalry.” Unfortunately, Josh’s voice had cracked on the last syllable.

  Shawn immediately broke into taunting laughter, and my anger re-doubled.

  “You’re such an asshole!” I shoved Shawn back as hard as I could. I must have caught him off guard, because his ninja senses didn’t kick in. Instead, he fell over with a glorious thump.

  Almost instantly, he was on his feet, his sinewy muscles cording and flexing as his face reddened. “Who in the hell do you—”

  “Enough, all three of you!” Buckner materialized next to our small booth. I hadn’t heard any chimes. “Have you all lost your minds? You’re going to get us thrown out of this place—although maybe we should leave anyways, with all of the attention you’ve just attracted. Josh, you are new to my crew, but you need to know, this kind of behavior is never tolerated—at least, not on my watch. And Charlie—really? I just saw you three seconds ago. And Shawn—you’ve been a Marker for how long? Give me one reason I shouldn’t report you to the Cronus for putting a mission in jeopardy?”

  All three of us stared down at our feet.

  “Get in the booth.” It wasn’t a request.

  Shawn and Josh slid into the same side. I was confused for a second, but then I nodded. Of course—I was Buckner’s apprentice. I vaulted into the empty seat. Buckner perched himself on the outside and waved for the waitress.

  She scuttled over, an eyebrow raised. “Looks like you’re having a little trouble with your team, brother.”

  Buckner smiled, and my jaw almost fell open. I had never seen such an honest and . . . flirty expression on him. “Naw, Janice, but as always, I appreciate your discretion.” He slid a bill across the table—a fifty?

  Janice gave him a garish, blue eye-shadowed wink and stuck it into the front of her dress, and I couldn’t help but notice Buckner was going a little red around the ears. “Coffee for all of you, I take it?”

  I glanced around the table. There were no objections, and she scuttled away.

  Buckner blew on his nails and cleaned them on his shirt. “It’s pretty bad when a waitress catches you behaving like children.” His voice, which had been sugar-sweet while talking to Janice, suddenly darkened with heavy notes of anger. “Are we all done being an embarrassment to the Order?”

  “Yes, Sir.” The chorus was both the only answer we could have given and a way to sound even more like naughty children.

  “All right, then. First things first—today, we’re hunting bubbler.”

  I had my face turned toward Buckner, so it was only with the corner of my eye that I saw Shawn’s quick turn of the head. I glanced over; he had gone rigid, his mouth a tight white line. And then I imagined the decapitation of his friend, a television-commercial style before-and-after for the world’s worst shampoo: Here he is with head, here he is without! You can really see the difference!

  It was hard to ignore the sinking feeling in my gut. I looked away from the table, toward Janice, but the waitress was no help. She was glued to the phone on the wall, an old corded model probably as ancient as this diner’s checkered décor.

  “We’re going to hunt in twos, but we’ll stay in close enough proximity to cover each other if there is an ambush. We’re going to spli
t into pairs and do Balek Maneuvers—one shooter, one bait. The last sighting was approximately two miles to the north, but that was hours ago. They could be out of range by now—if they are, we just move north until they catch the scent.

  “Don’t we need more men for this?” Shawn’s question echoed my own growing fear, and I nodded like I had some idea of how these things usually went. I mean, it seemed like a good idea, right?

  Buckner snorted. “Tonight’s a bad night. There are over ten outbreaks requiring containment in the last four hours, all of them different species—and that’s just in our zone. Two of them are in major urban areas that are going to need extensive triple C—”

  He answered my question before I could ask it. “That’s containment, clean-up, and cover-up.” He leveled his gaze at Shawn, and I could sense the challenge that ran there, deep and hot, behind a seemingly calm face. “We get one team. If you have a problem with that, you can take it up with upper management, with my blessing. We’ve got to minimize the possible death toll to human life here—even at cost of our own. You know how this works.”

  Shawn gave me a sullen stare, one I had seen before. It was the way big brothers looked at little sisters, the way teachers looked at their young charges. My skin prickled, irritation mixed with pleasure—it wasn’t himself he was trying to protect. Why was everything with this man so confusing?

  Apparently, Buckner caught the stare too, because he let the matter drop, but not without making a face like he had been sucking on a lemon. This was something that was going to come up again later, I could tell.

  “Shawn and Josh, you’ve got GPS coordinates to your bait-point. The initial call-in was unable to provide any details about physiology, except that they were average sized, so we’re not really sure what kind of prey these guys are seeking out. If you set the Balek, and get no result, you might want to try double-Balek with this one—assuming that Josh is a steady enough shot.”

  His eyebrows quirked up. Josh nodded, and his young face suddenly aged considerably. “I qualify at rank fifteen.”