Marked

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Marked Page 21

by T. L. McDonald


  ***

  Will’s motorcycle, devoid of its driver, is parked in my driveway when I get home. I pull in beside it parking in Adam’s usual spot. Jared pulls in behind me blocking me in.

  “About what you said back at the church,” I say to Jared as we head up the walkway. He looks over at me, smiles just enough to show his dimple. My stomach flips. “I just want you to know, I feel the same way about you.”

  He takes my hand. “And what way is that?” Big green eyes look at me teasingly. He knows what way. He just wants to hear me say it out loud.

  I blush from head to toe. “I love you too.”

  His face lights up. “Say it again.”

  “I love you.”

  Standing on the porch in front of the door he kisses me softly. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that and have it mean something more than just the love between friends.” His eyes so impossibly green like the color of new grass in the spring look at me with such feeling my heart ceases to beat for what seems like minutes. The backs of his fingers brush down the side of my face, his thumb over my lips. Then he kisses me again, so soft at first then deeper as he pulls us closer together. Every nerve ending in my body electrifies, acutely aware of every inch of him that’s pressed against me.

  A throat clears. “Am I interrupting?”

  My face flames red as Jared and I separate. Will stands just inside the door to my house staring at us, or rather me. His face betrays nothing. His eyes say everything. It hurts him to see Jared and I together.

  I wish it wouldn’t.

  Will shoves the hurt showing in his eyes down until they’re an empty blue. “Hope you don’t mind, I let myself in. After an hour of waiting for you to get home I got bored. Hungry too.” He waves a half-eaten turkey sandwich. “But I did put up more protection wards. Blondie won’t be getting back into your head anytime soon.”

  Jared shoulders past Will into the house. “Is there something wrong with your phone?”

  “What?” Will takes a bite of his sandwich as he moves aside to let me in. “Dude, why do you look so pissed?”

  Jaw clenched, Jared slightly narrows his eyes. “Because I tried to call you like twenty times. Hanna was in serious trouble and you wouldn’t answer your phone.”

  “Whoa, back up. What are you talking about? I never got any calls from you.” Will takes his phone out of a side pocket in his backpack. “That’s weird. It’s turned off. I never turn it off.” He glances back up at Jared. “What kind of trouble?”

  “The I found Hanna nearly dead on the bathroom floor at school kind of trouble.”

  Momentarily dumbstruck, Will stares at Jared like he just grew fangs and announced he’s now a vampire. Snapping out of his stupor he shakes his head side to side. “Did you just say…?”

  “That she was nearly dead on the bathroom floor? Yes.”

  Will looks at me with concern then drags his gaze back to Jared. “Tell me everything.”

  “I was on my way to my locker for a paper I needed for class when I saw her half running, half stumbling down the hall,” Jared continues. “I called her name several times and each time that she wouldn’t answer the feeling that something was wrong grew stronger, so I followed her. She locked herself in the bathroom and by the time I got the door open she wasn’t breathing and the symbol on her wrist was all jacked up with these dark blue looking veiny things coming out of it. I gave her CPR and after the scariest two minutes of my life she finally started to breathe. After that she took off to find the journal because she thought Blondie was going after it. I couldn’t stop her. And I couldn’t get a hold of you.”

  “I think Blondie did something to the symbol last night,” I say filling in the blanks. “It activated on its own today in class. I had no control over it whatsoever when the memory started. And instead of experiencing it as Sam like I always do, I was pushed out and only able to watch what was happening from a distance. Then everything went dark and I went someplace else.” Warm tears fill my eyes as I remember how it felt to have my Mom and Dad hold me. And how it felt to lose them all over again when I woke up. Wiping my eyes with my shirtsleeve, I meet Jared’s gaze. “My parents were there.” It comes out a whisper. With a hard swallow, I steady my voice as I turn to Will. “Anyway, in the memory I saw where Sam hid the journal, which means Blondie did too. I know it was stupid to go after it on my own, but I couldn’t risk Blondie getting there first.” I stare at the floor ashamed in knowing that I was too late. “But he must have, because when I got there the gazebo was destroyed and the journal was gone.”

  “Blondie doesn’t have it,” Will says. “I do.”

  I snap my head up, but it’s Jared who speaks. “What do you mean you do?”

  “At lunch when Hanna said Sam had it, I knew exactly where he’d hide it. Sam always hid stuff that was important to him under the floorboards of the gazebo. So I ditched afternoon classes to go get it.” He turns his attention to me. “But I didn’t destroy the gazebo. That had to have been Blondie.” Fear, anger, and relief flash through his dark blue eyes. “What were you thinking running off after the journal like that by yourself? What if Blondie had still been there? Did you even have a plan or were you just going to ask for it nicely?”

  “Yes, that was my plan. I was going to ask nicely,” I say sarcastically since he’s being an ass.

  “I’m just saying, you should have waited until you got ahold of me or Zoe. You’re not trained and your abilities are too unpredictable. If he had still been there…he could’ve…you could’ve…”

  “I know. I get it. It was stupid, but I’m fine so you can stop with the third degree.” I glance at Jared for support, but the expression on his face clearly says, ‘don’t look at me; I’m with Will on this’. “Well, maybe if you would have told me that you were going after the journal yourself or that you’d already found it, maybe I wouldn’t have run off after it,” I say making it sound like it’s Will’s fault I ran off into possible life threatening danger instead of my own.

  “I was going to tell you as soon as I got back to school,” Will says matter-of-factly. “But by the time I got there classes were already letting out and I didn’t see you anywhere. I was going to call, but then I ran into Zoe in the parking lot and she told me that she’d just talked to you and that you wanted me to meet you at your house, so I figured I’d just tell you there.”

  “But I didn’t talk to her,” I say confused. “Why would she tell you that?”

  Will shrugs his shoulder looking just as confused as I am.

  And then I start to put two and two together. Zoe’s eagerness to know what I saw in Sam’s memory when we were at the church. Her nervousness when I mentioned that I thought someone was tipping off Blondie. The fake tears she shed for Sam at school. Her weird behavior at lunch today when I said Sam had the journal. And then there’s the biggest clue of all. The way the symbol reacted to her when she touched it.

  Zoe’s the traitor.

  “Will, do you have the journal with you now?” I ask, a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  “Yeah, I put it in my bag.” He retrieves his backpack from the floor placing it on the foyer table. He unzips it then goes through the contents slow at first then again with more force. Lines of frustration crease his forehead. “I know I put it in here.”

  “Did Zoe know you found it?” I ask.

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “Was she ever alone with your backpack?”

  He turns to face me. “What are you getting at?”

  “Just answer please. Its important.”

  Will scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess for a few minutes when I changed her flat tire.” He looks at me, his eyes questioning. “Why are you asking me this?”

  I take a deep breath steeling myself against whatever reaction he might express to what I’m about to say. “I think she took it.” All the spit in my mouth dries up. “I think she’s the one leaking information to Blondie.”
/>   Will looks at me in confusion then in anger as he processes. “You think my sister is the traitor?” His arms tremble at his sides, fists tight. “There’s no way. Sam was her friend too. She would never betray him like that. Never.”

  “Then where’s the journal?”

  “I…I don’t know. Maybe it fell or something, but it can’t be her. It just…it just can’t.”

  “I think maybe Sam knew,” I say, adding salt to the wound. “When you touch the symbol it reacts to you because Sam’s reacting to you. It’s warm and iridescent. But when Zoe touched it, it felt very different. It felt wrong. It burned and dulled, and all I wanted to do was get it away from her. I think it reacted that way because Sam knew she betrayed him.”

  Will’s mouth opens then closes. How can he argue against Sam? He sits at the bottom of the stairs hanging his head in his hands, hurt and betrayal taking over.

  Nobody speaks.

  Will doesn’t move.

  Silence wraps around us until the quietness of it all becomes suffocating.

  Will’s fingers are the first things to move. Twitching, then curling until he’s made a fist so tight his knuckles threaten to break through the skin. He moves so fast he’s a blur as he punches his hand clear through the wall. Pieces of drywall crumble to the ground as he pulls his mangled hand from the gaping hole he’s left behind. His knuckles are covered in blood, two of his fingers twisted at odd angles.

  Broken.

  Just like him.

  “Will, I’m so sorry.” Gently taking his arm, I lead him into the kitchen to clean up his hand. Being mindful of his broken fingers I wash the blood away. He stands beside me in a daze. I don’t even know if he’s aware of what he did to himself or if he even cares. “Your fingers are broken,” I say.

  Will looks down, seemingly noticing his fingers for the first time. He stares at them a moment then jerks them back into place without a flinch. His eyes stare ahead, blank and detached. I can’t imagine what he must be feeling. The murder of your best friend is one thing, but to find out that your sister had something to do with it is more than anyone should ever have to handle.

  “Will?” I touch his arm. He stiffens then pulls away.

  “You have to go back into Sam’s memories,” he says without looking at me. “I didn’t look inside the journal, so Sam is our only hope of knowing what it says.”

  Jared shakes his head. “No way man. It almost killed her last time. You weren’t there. You didn’t see.”

  “It’s our only option,” Will says. Slowly his eyes glide over to me. I expect to see hate or anger flashing in them because of what I accused Zoe of, but all I see is an incredible sadness and it breaks my heart.

  “Will,” I say softly. “I’m so sorry.” I step closer. He doesn’t pull away so I hug him wrapping my arms tightly around his waist. His arms hang to the side then slowly he hugs me back and I feel his chest heave.

  He’s crying.

  And then I’m crying.

  And then Jared is looking at us both like he’s unsure of what he should do.

  Coming up beside Will and I, Jared awkwardly pats Will on the back mumbling, “I’m sorry man”, before leaning against the kitchen counter.

  Will’s breathing slows. He pulls away turning his back to me as he wipes his eyes. Taking a deep breath he straightens his shoulders. “Let me see your wrist. If I can find out what Blondie did to it I might be able to fix it.” When he turns back around he’s composed, focused. He doesn’t say anything about what just happened and I get the feeling he doesn’t want me to either.

  He holds out his hand.

  I give him my wrist.

  He runs a thumb over the symbol; it flickers in and out in response. Bringing his mouth to my wrist he whispers something in a language I don’t understand over the mark. A secondary symbol that’s red and harsh in appearance emerges around it. Closing his eyes he covers my wrist wrapping both his hands around my arm. My wrist begins to tingle, growing warm, as he mumbles under his breath, which isn’t too bad…at first, but the more he mumbles the hotter it becomes until it’s so hot I want to scream.

  Blue eyes emerge from under dark lashes. Will takes his hand away from my wrist to remove a small dagger hidden underneath the back of his shirt. “I won’t lie. This next part is going to hurt.”

  “Okay,” I mutter in a shaky voice. My heartbeat picks up as the sharp edge of the blade touches my skin. Will looks at me one last time for approval. I nod. He mumbles more words I don’t understand then presses the blade down drawing it across my skin, cutting the symbol in half.

  Red drops hit the floor and I bite my lip. He wipes the blade off on the front of his jeans then tucks it back into some hidden place under his shirt. Moving my wrist over to the sink he chants more words. Thick black liquid pours from the cut landing in clumps at the bottom of the sink. Immediately I start to feel better. Lighter. Whatever Blondie did to it, Will is taking it away.

  Once all traces of the black liquid are gone and only blood flows, Will rinses my wrist under the faucet for good measure then pats it dry with a paper towel. The cut seals itself healing before my eyes. Will rubs his thumb over my now smooth skin where it reacts like it should, leaving an iridescent trail.

  “What the hell was that stuff?” Jared asks. He peers into the sink at the remaining black goo left in the basin. The drops of goo twitch and slither down the drain. “It just moved.” Jared jumps back and Will turns on the water to wash anything that remains away. “Again, what the hell was that stuff?”

  “Nothing good,” Will says as he shuts off the water.

  “And Hanna?” Jared asks, his eyes roaming over me from head to toe.

  “Is fine now,” Will answers.

  I stare at the symbol. It looks normal, pale and blue. But then again it looked normal after what Blondie did to it too. “Is it really okay now? Blondie’s not going to take over again?”

  “Blondie has no control over it. I removed what he did. It should be fine now.” Will sees something in my face and amends his last sentence. “It will be fine now. I promise.”

  ***

  I can do this.

  Can I do this?

  Will fixed it.

  Did he really though? What if he missed something?

  Everything will be fine.

  Will it be fine?

  All I have to do is touch it, see what I need to see and be done. Simple.

  Nothing is ever simple.

  I lower my fingers wishing my inner voice would shut the hell up. My hand starts to shake.

  “Are you sure she’s going to be safe?” The fear in Jared’s voice is tangible enough to further ignite my own fears.

  I drop my hands.

  “For the last time, yes. She will be fine.” Will sits down in front of me on the bedroom floor taking my hands in his. “Hanna, look at me. You can do this. You don’t have to be afraid. I promise, everything will be okay.” Nothing in his face betrays what he’s saying. He truly believes that I’m safe and that everything will be fine. And if he can believe it then maybe I should too.

  “Okay. I’m ready.” I close my eyes as my fingers lower to touch the symbol. My skin warms as I fade into Sam.

  My hands are shaking so bad it takes me several tries to lock my door. I struggle to catch my breath as I take out the journal. My mother’s journal. Now that I have it I don’t know how to feel about it: happy, sad, angry, confused, curious? All of the above?

  I sit on my bed staring at it in my hands letting the minutes tick by. Do I read it? Do I not read it? Do I hold onto the stories my father told me about her? Or do I learn the truth?

  Letting my curiosity overrule all of my other feelings I open the journal to a random page.

  I think I’m in love. His name is Julian and he is the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen. When we’re together I feel like we’re the only two people on the face of the Earth. He’s not from here and no one knows about him. Not even my best friend. He’s purely huma
n and not like me, making our love forbidden. He wants me to run away with him.

  I wonder who Julian is as I flip through more pages coming to a stop at a drawing of an angel shackled to the floor.

  Julian lied to me. He’s not at all who he said he was. He must have laughed at how stupid I was to fall for his lies. To fall for him. To believe that he loved me back. But now I know the truth. Now I know who he really is. Now I know he’s Fallen. And God help me for doing what I had to do. I’d been training for it my whole life. ‘The Fallen don’t belong here.’ ‘They’re all evil and want to do us harm’. ‘We have to protect humanity.’ ‘We have to send them back.’ They all said.

  So I did. I sent him back. And I cried the whole time because what if they were wrong? And now. Now I’m pregnant and I can’t bring myself to end it because I loved him. Because I still love him.

  My hands are shaking so badly now I can barely keep ahold of the journal. My mother, a Guardian, was in love with a Fallen? I turn the pages coming to another drawing of the angel, his hands no longer shackled.

  No one knows about my pregnancy and I’m afraid of what will happen if anyone ever finds out. Especially if they ever find out whom the father is. I’m starting to show and I know that I’m not going to be able to stay here much longer. I’m going to tell my family that I’m going to travel Europe for the summer so they won’t become suspicious of my growing belly, but really I’ve rented a cabin out by Lake Haven. It’s small and cozy and best of all, isolated. I doubt anyone will find me there. I leave next week.

  I flip to the last passage in the journal. It too has a drawing of the angel. In this one his arms and dark wings are spread out to the heavens. My heart beats erratically as I read her final entry.

  Today is my 20th birthday and today I gave birth to a beautiful, healthy baby boy. He is perfect in every way. I love him so much it hurts. I tried so hard throughout the pregnancy to detach myself from him so it would be easier when the time came to give him away. But every time I look into his sweet little face, I fall in love all over again. But I know I can’t keep him. I know that the best thing I can do for him is to give him up so he has a chance at a normal life. A chance to be happy. A chance to grow up free and not be persecuted for who his father is. Being born from both light and dark I don’t know what his future holds, but I do know that he deserves the opportunity to find out. I want his destiny to be his own so I’ve bound any abilities he may develop until he turns 18. I just hope that’s enough to keep him safe until he’s old enough to understand who he is.

 

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