A Mark Unwilling

by Candace Wondrak

  The voice swears in a language I heard him use with Devil Jr. when I first saw him. At least, I think it’s a swearword. It certainly sounds like one. “Then let this be a boon to you and your undead pair.”

  A vibrating shuffles through the air, and the spider Demons—even big, old Momma—bring their Human arms to their ears, trying to block it out. A series of pops blast, and as the venom wears off, I’m able to see that their heads exploded. The vibration dies off, and I tumble out of the webbing, landing on the hard body of the original Demon.

  As I work to stand and get off the uncomfortable corpse, the voice says, “It is very telling of your master, that I aided you when he did not.”

  “Well, to be fair, I did tell him to stay with my friends.” I slide off the corpse, falling to my feet after an eight-foot drop. I try not to stare too long and hard at the popped heads, at how the blood isn’t red, but black, and how the Human brains house a worm-like thing.

  “The young Morningstar—”

  “You know,” I cut in, “it sounds to me like you want me more than I want you. I told you if I’m ever shopping around, you’ll be the first to know. I’m not shopping around right now. You’re like a used car salesman—too annoying. I think I’ll just keep the car I have, thanks.”

  “Be that as it may, the next time—my final offer—will be one you will not refuse.” And then the voice stops, just like that.

  I glance up to the sky, thinking that maybe he’s floating around somewhere, but he isn’t. Why save me? Why not let me set the web aflame and accidentally burn Darren and Nat to death? What does Hades have to gain by my allegiance?

  I’m just a Human Mark. The only thing special about me is the Mark itself.

  I push away the questions, tripping once or twice as I make my way to Darren and Nat. The fountain in the center of the courtyard no longer spews water; webbing stuffing it up. It takes all of my strength to tear open the white stuff holding the two Vamps in. They fall forward, rolling to a stop at the base of the wall, still sticking to the web somewhat. I push them down, onto the ground. We’re still on a thin film of webbing, but it’s better than being on the wall.

  Rustling Darren, I say loudly, “Hey, wake your Barbie-loving butt up!” I move to Nat, adding, “And you, fashion-deprived Natasha Romanoff, it isn’t time to sleep!” I go back and forth, doing my best to wake them. I give them each a light slap on the cheek. “If I had a bucket of water, I’d throw it on you.”

  Darren moans, opening his eyes very slowly. “What time is it?” he mumbles, sitting up, staring at his legs, at the thick coating of webbing around them.

  “Time for you get watch,” Nat says, abruptly sitting, rubbing her neck. “Passed out. What happened?”

  I answer her questions by motioning around to the dead Demons. I see her eyes start to roll back, but I grip her shoulders and shake her. “Don’t you dare pass out again. They’re all dead. There’s nothing you have to worry about.”

  Darren takes in the sight, breaking out into a grin. He hoists his pants up, turning to look at me. “And how in the hell did you manage that?”

  I do my best to not look wide-eyed and guilty. “A magician never tells his secrets—or her secrets.”

  “Don’t care. Good they dead.” Nat turns her back to the dead Demons, gazing up at the black sun. “Lost time. We must hurry.” Darren and I wordlessly agree with her, and we walk to the hospital’s back doors.

  “They’re all dead,” I say. “Now I think we can split up.” I tell Darren to take the top floor, Nat the fifth, while I take the fourth. We’ll meet up on the third, sweep the final one together, and check the few rooms we missed on the second on our way out.

  We get to work.

  More bloody beds, more empty sacks, more webbing. My eyes start to glaze over the gory sights, and I come onto a room that needs a key card to open. The lights flicker behind me, and I see the door is pried open. I’m small enough to fit and slide inside, with only a slight problem with my chest. The bottom of the door is beaten in, as if one of the Arachnoids had already gotten inside.

  Vials lay broken on the floor, microscopes turned over. Fridges sit in the back, and my stomach drops when I notice they both hang open. The insides are mini-murder scenes. Empty bags litter the floor, blood spattered on the metallic walls. I spot a single bag, toward the back, and move to pick it up. As I do so, however, the blood falls out of a hole on the side of the bag, which I didn’t notice. If I had, I wouldn’t have picked it up quite like that. I throw the bag down, angry as I stand.

  I hope the others are having better luck than me. I really hope we didn’t come here, risking our lives, for nothing.

  I’m the last one to the meeting place near the stairwell, and when I spot their empty hands, my spirits fall to the floor. Past the floor, really. They fall all the way through the earth, not stopping until they reach whatever’s on the opposite side of the globe from where we are.

  When they see me, I shake my head. “I think Momma Bear made too many kids. Not enough food for them.” As I say it, I pray that isn’t what happened to the entire town. I hope they weren’t all eaten or turned. What a scary thought.

  “We still have the third floor,” Darren says, hopeful.

  Of course, in less than an hour, we find that his hope is wasted.

  A thorough search of the third floor gives us nothing. Anything we might’ve used has already been taken or devoured. Darren resorts to swearing, while Nat simply looks sad. We leave the hospital with no blood bags, and no van. Less than we came with.

  The sun begins to set, and my stomach rumbles. Hunger. When’s the last time I ate?

  As we start the trek to the house, Darren comes up with an idea. “What about an animal? We used to hunt a few miles from here—”

  I hold in my thoughts that it’s already been too long, that by the time we return the house, Cloud might already be dead. I don’t want to be the ones to tell them that. “If you think that’ll help him, go ahead. I can make it back to the house.”

  Darren shakes his head. “No. Nat, go with her. I can hunt alone. Done it before.”

  Nat gives him a curt nod, and we both watch him go, running faster than Human-speed, but not quite at the par Cloud was. He wasn’t kidding when he said animal blood makes them weaker, was he?

  By the time we make it back to the house, the sun has completely set, and the blood moon is on the rise. I knock on the front door, say, “It’s me,” and Deb opens it. “Is he—” My words stop as she shakes her head.

  I come into the vestibule, moving towards the right, where most of the group lingers in the living room. Eve and Josie are notably absent, which is good, because Josie shouldn’t have to see this. She shouldn’t have to see or live through any of this.

  The girl should be safe, resting, with the other Humans who were chosen to survive.

  I meet David’s eyes, and for once I can’t read my friend’s expression. As I slowly move my stare to Devil Jr., Nat rushes to Cloud’s side, kneeling before the couch.

  “Fading,” she whispers. I move beside her, and she tosses a look over her shoulders at me. “Will be gone when Darren comes.” Nat goes to the wall, close to where Mike leans, impassive. She crosses her arms, turning her face into the drywall.

  I hold in a sigh as I study Cloud. The hole in his chest is a dark red, and yet hardly any blood has come from it. In fact, you can pretty much see right into him. Past his torn shirt are organs and bones. I’m definitely not cut out to be a doctor, if my twisting stomach is any indication. His head, turned toward the couch, reveals his uninjured half, burn-free. His veins, black and dried-out, poke against his pale skin.

  It might be stupid. It might not make any sense, but I don’t want him to die.

  Well, he’s already dead, but you know what I mean.

  Our mission at the hospital failed…but there is one more thing I can try.

  Chapter Eleven

  I head to the kitchen. When I return to the living r
oom, I carry a clean knife. Before I can move to the couch, Devil Jr. stands before me, eyes shooting daggers. To say he’s upset wouldn’t cut it.

  He’s furious.

  “No,” he whispers.

  “He’s my pet, isn’t he?” I whisper harshly back, quiet enough so that the others don’t hear me call Cloud my pet. “It’s my job to feed him.”

  “Not with your own blood.” Devil Jr. is pissed, and he grabs my wrist. “He nearly murdered your precious girl. Wouldn’t you rather he perished?”

  For a moment, I remain quiet. Is that what this is? A test? A ridiculous test to see if I’d let Cloud die? When I gather myself, I say, “A lot of people are forced to do things they wouldn’t normally do.” Mike, Cloud…me. Maybe that’s why this feels important. “Please, let me do this. If he gets out of hand, takes too much, stop him.”

  Devil Jr. is unconvinced, and unhurried in releasing my wrist.

  Slowly, I sit on the edge of the couch, with my soul’s owner standing close, about to cut myself to save a Vampire, of all things. David shakes his head and looks away, disproving of this whole-heartedly. Mike couldn’t care less. Nat, obviously, has turned hopeful. This might not work, though. Cloud might be too far gone.

  Just as I’m about to drag the sharp edge across my skin, Cloud’s eyes peek open, and he tiredly whispers, “Don’t.”

  I hesitate, confused. “Why?”

  He strains to put a cold hand around the arm that holds the knife. “What I’ve done,” he speaks through cracked lips, “is unforgiveable. Let me go.” His eyes close, his hand slipping off my arm. “I’ve outlived…everyone.”

  “Now is not the time for a brooding fest,” I say. “You’re not dying here. Not now.” I cut my wrist.

  Nat instantly makes a grossed-out face, very contradictory to her Vampiric nature. She has to turn away, hiding her disgust.

  I move closer to Cloud’s top half, inching my bleeding wrist before his face. I note how his mouth is open, his fangs glinting in the darkness. His eyes fully open, and he moves his blue stare to me. When he doesn’t go for it, I shove my wrist against his mouth, practically forcing him to take my blood.

  Does this make me the same as Devil Jr.? I’m making Cloud do something he doesn’t want to do, after all.

  I try not to think about it.

  With my wrist pressed against him, Cloud slowly brings his hands to my arm and holds me still. Even though there’s a fresh cut, I still feel the pricks of his fangs before they enter my skin. I immediately want to pull away—the pain, the sound of the guzzling, the feeling of his face, half-burned, on my palm. Good thing he has a hold of me; I have the childish notion to yank away and say ew.

  The pain eventually dies down as endorphins swim through me, nulling the pain. A similar thing happens when you get a tattoo, I’ve heard. By the time the tattooist finishes the outline and starts the color, the person getting the tattoo hardly feels it.

  A part of me feels gross letting a Vamp basically eat me, but a teeny, small part of me understands Sapes now. They long to be close to their chosen Vampire. What better way than letting them feed off of you? There will always be a part of you inside them.

  Wait a moment.

  I don’t want to be inside Cloud.

  I turn my head, looking at Devil Jr., at his scowl. My eyes fall to his hands, which are curled into fists. He’s not a fan of this—and honestly, neither am I. I’m not food. I’m not nourishment. I’m…

  I don’t know what I am.

  Cloud’s hands tighten around my wrist, and just before Devil Jr. lunges at him, he lets me go. I’m pulled away from him as Devil Jr. and Cloud meet eyes. One has a pair of lifeless blue eyes, while the other’s blueness is wild with heat and emotion. Cloud swings his legs over the couch, standing, stiff, as if he hasn’t stood in a long time.

  He looks at me. “I must rest,” he whispers, gentle and tired. I couldn’t blame him. “You should as well.”

  Everyone in the room watches as he walks around the furniture and heads up the stairs. I don’t want to talk to anyone right now, so I manage to get away from Devil Jr., avoid all stares, and go to the kitchen. I plop down in the first chair I see. My bitten and cut wrist sits across the wooden surface, stretched out. I lean my head down, closing my eyes, suddenly feeling very tired myself.

  A warm hand touches my injury, and I move only my eyes, looking across the table to Devil Jr., who seems oddly uncomfortable.

  “You should not have let him feed off you,” he says.

  I smirk. “Jealous of the Vampire?”

  Devil Jr. gives me a deep frown. “No, but it was foolish.”

  “Foolish is my middle name.” Truthfully, as long as I don’t start having sex dreams about him, a la True Blood, I’ll be fine. And so will he. With the blood moon risen, I now have proof that he’s no longer under its control.

  A third person enters the kitchen, my oldest and best friend. David wears a similar scornful expression.

  “Fetch her nourishment,” Devil Jr. says, trying to command him.

  “You don’t control me,” David states.

  “Unless you want her passing out, I suggest you do so.”

  David holds in any witty response, going into the nearest cupboard, and retrieving an energy bar box. He slams it in front of me, gives me a disappointed look, and walks away.

  Before I lunge for the box—for I am awfully hungry—Devil Jr. catches my injured hand and traces the cut, and then touches the two fang marks. The wound was on its way of healing, but my skin stitches together instantly. My mouth drops, and I bring my wrist to my face, studying it.

  Not so much as a scar, or any blood.

  I glance at him.

  Devil Jr. says nothing. If he can play the quiet game, so can I.

  I rip open my first bar, biting off a hard chunk. As I chew, I hold back any gagging. These are health bars. Taste like cardboard. Nasty. But I eat them anyway; four of them, which I might regret in a few hours.

  I must fall asleep after eating the bars, because when I get up, everyone is wet with newly-washed hair. My mom and Josie sit on the loveseat in the living room, the tiny girl fast asleep in Eve’s lap. I don’t see David, and I don’t see Devil Jr.

  Nat comes in from the door leading into the garage, saying, “Darren, she awake.” Darren follows her in, and before I can make a joke to lighten the mood, I see he has blood on his hands, along with a cutting knife.

  “Deer,” he says, wiping his forehead. “But that’s not what…” He sighs. “Nat told me what you did for Cloud. You didn’t have to, and I—well, there’s no way we can repay you.” When I start to tell them they don’t have to repay me, at all, they’re kneeling before me. “You have our loyalty, Lexa. You’ve proved yourself to us, and I’ll be damned if we don’t return the favor.” His face looks up, and he adds, mostly to lighten the mood, “And the way you got us out of that scrap in the hospital, we’d be stupid to not be on your side.”

  At that, all eyes in the room fall on me, and I wave him off, wanting to avoid explaining it. “Thanks…I guess. I’m, uh, going to take a shower now.” And then I run up the stairs as fast as I can. I don’t need anybody kneeling to me. I don’t have a power complex. I’m not Devil Jr.

  The bathroom is the first door to the left, and as I take a towel from the already-open linen closet, David emerges. A towel hangs around his waist, his dirty clothes in one hand. He has a bit of pudge, but so do I. In twenty-first century America, who doesn’t?

  His brown hair sticks in every direction, and his sour face puts me in a bad mood instantly. Before he opens his mouth, I already know what he’s going to say. “David—”

  “No,” he cuts in, and I’m taken aback by his curtness. “You don’t get to David me, not this time. That was stupid. That was so fucking stupid. How many times have I told you not to trust them? Not to make buddy buddy with them? They’re dangerous, Lexa. You saw what he did to his nest! What if he snaps and does the same thing to all of us?
Can you live with that?”

  “But—”

  “Your master broke the connection between him and the blood moon, I know. Can you hear yourself?” He’s, for the first time in my life, yelling at me. “You can’t trust him. You can’t trust any of them. Only me, your mom—”

  “My mom is the one who sold my soul in the first place,” I remind him, not liking his tone.

  David shakes his head. “I don’t agree with your decision with Cloud. I never will. Call me a diva, but I’m pretty damn pissed at you.” His eyes move away from me when he adds, “And disappointed.” He walks away.

  His last words hit me like a slap in the face.

  David’s disappointed in me. I knew it, but hearing it come from him is something else entirely. It hurts.

  I step into the bathroom, quietly closing the door. I set the towel down and wipe the steam from the mirror. As I stare into my reflection, I wonder if this family ran. Where did all the Humans go? So much for fighting.

  I slowly look away, wriggling out of my shirt. Unzipping my boots and peeling my socks off, I throw my pants and underwear in a pile on the floor. I turn the water on, all the way over, as hot as it gets, and wait a moment before stepping in.

  Ice cold, because everyone else used all the warm water up.

  How lovely.

  I stand beneath the showerhead, teeth chattering. There’s nothing worse than a cold shower, except for a parent’s death…or a near-death experience with a child who you love like a sister…or the end of the world. I should stop the list now, apparently.

  David’s mad at me.

  Like, really mad. Not you-stole-my-food mad, but you-made-a-bad-choice-and-I-can’t-get-behind-you mad. He’s never been mad at me before. Never. My mind races, miles a second, and everything comes crashing at once.

  I let a Vampire feed off me. Josefina nearly died. My dad is dead. The world is really ending, and regardless of what I do, I can’t stop it. The Devil’s son owns me, and as soon as he decides he’s done playing house, I’ll be forced to leave them all. I might pretend like I have power, like what I want matters, but the truth is…it doesn’t.