Marked (Dark Ties Book 1)

by A. Vers

  I moan. “Damn vampire.”

  An older woman in a long sky-blue cloak glances at me as she passes, worn suitcase in hand.

  My face heats, and I duck my head before hurrying off.

  The first new hall I come to, I slip down the short flight of stairs and barrel out into an adjacent open atrium. Surrounded on three sides by the manor, sparse trees seem to vie for space amidst the old cobbled paths. I turn around slowly, taking it in, and stop when my gaze lands on a two-story parking deck. Gleaming SUVs, trucks, and sleek cars wait in neat rows inside the towering stone walls. Cameras and barb wire rim the rooftop, each deadly implement barely visible under the cover of night.

  I walk down the nearest path to the stone structure, head tilted back in wonder as I enter. “How big is this damn place?” I mutter, taking in the concrete walls, expensive cars, and apparent armory to one side of the building.

  “A lot bigger than you expect.” The voice is vaguely familiar.

  I spin.

  The dark-haired man from the door last night leans back against a cherry-red Viper, slim dagger in hand. His eyes are damn near the same shade as the car as they trail over me. “Captain’s guest ...” He smirks. “How did you manage to get bored of all the quiet slavery inside?”

  I blink. “Well ...”

  He pushes away from the front bumper and stalks closer; his silk slacks are tight over the muscle in his thighs. “I imagine ...” he circles me, “that’s because you are all alone.” His voice glides over my skin, pulling something needy from inside me. A wave of heat surfaces, but it’s mild compared to the torture of being around Ruin.

  “I don’t mind being alone.”

  He clicks his tongue. “A sweet bird such as yourself? You need to be tasted. Many, many times.” He inhales close to my shoulder. A flash of blood-red light blares out of my peripheral.

  I whirl. “What are you doing?”

  His eyes shimmer with brilliant ruby flames. “I can taste the desire pouring from you, little bird. It’s decadent, like dark chocolate and cream on my tongue.” He trembles. “And I bet your flesh tastes like it too.”

  My face heats, and my hand flies before I can stop it.

  He stumbles back under the blow, more surprise than actual pain in his features as he touches his reddening cheek. “Oww. My ego,” he quips.

  “Dream on, asshole,” I snarl.

  Something deadly roils through his gaze. “You have no idea what I dream about, little bird.” His shoulders rise and fall, pulling at the thin material of his shirt. “But I know what you dream of.”

  I step back, angry and confused. “I’m looking for Ruin. Do you know where I can find him?” I snap.

  Carnelian irises flash, the look knowing. “Our fearless leader will be in the tunnels this eve. Allow me to escort you?” He offers me his arm. I ignore him with a scowl.

  His lips flow into a pout, pulling at the thinner top bow. But the motion is emotionless as it never reaches farther than his thinner lips. “Alas, you continue to wound my pride.”

  I snort. “Can it.”

  “As you like. Follow me.” With one more cursory glance, he starts off through the back of the parking deck. I hesitate for a second before falling into step behind him.

  The farther we go into the parking deck, the more it closes up. Fortified. High concrete walls, with no open panels, leave Louisiana humidity suffocating in the confined space. It makes heat cloy in my mouth and lungs, despite the darkness. I wipe at the sweat on my brow.

  “I am Caine, by the way.”

  I glance at the dark-haired man in surprise. “Lilah. Lilah Marks.”

  He dips his head. “You are the talk of the coven right now.”

  I stiffen. “I can’t imagine why.”

  “Let’s just say, it is not often the good Captain brings home a stray.”

  My lips curl. “I’m not a stray. I’m a human . And your Captain brought me here after bringing the local uniforms down on my job.” Though it wasn’t because of Ruin specifically ... It was from the uproar.

  He peers back at me, eyes dancing. “So you are the Carnage waitress Tanner and Gage spoke of.”

  I shut my mouth and keep walking, realizing he just backed me into one hell of a corner.

  What the hell are they all saying about me?

  “Do not take offense, little bird. Despite my rakish, uncouth appearance, I am—”

  “A scoundrel who should never be trusted around any female. Human or otherwise.” The voice is bored and dry as the blond man from last night pushes from the shadows near the tunnel’s entrance.

  He eyes both of us as Caine grins unrepentant.

  “Now, Horan,” Caine croons. “Scoundrel is a bit harsh. Devilish ... Yes, that one I will give you.” Caine winks in my direction, carnelian eyes blazing.

  My mouth gapes. “A demon? You’re a demon?”

  He bows low. “In the flesh.” He glances down, expression amused. “So to speak, of course.”

  Horan rolls his gold eyes. “What are you doing with the human, Caine? Markus told you no feeding from anyone but your bedmates.”

  Caine has the gall to appear appalled. “I would never harm the good Captain’s,” he looks at me, “ guest. I am merely escorting her to him.”

  “After he said I smelled like dark chocolate and cream,” I mutter under my breath.

  Horan sighs. “Fine. But you’re not taking her down by yourself.”

  Caine’s eyes flash. “As you like, brother .”

  There is something in the way he says it, part condemning, part loathing. Horan tenses, but slips around the corner of the tunnel and fades into the gloom.

  The giant, pitch hole in the building seems never ending as it slopes downward into even more darkness. My heart pounds away.

  Caine sweeps another grand bow, grin never fading. “After you, little bird.”

  I hold my head up high and start into the shadows.

  His cackle is sinister, and it echoes off the brick and mortar walls around us. But not a hint of light leaves his eyes.

  A damn demon.

  Of course he is.

  My hands rise in front of me, casting back and forth to try and feel for any obstacles. Or a fucking wall to hold on to. The sandals on my feet offer little protection from the uneven cement, leaving me stumbling and swearing in the dark.

  “You could help me out,” I say, after what seems like a snail’s walk into eternity.

  “But we live and breathe the dark, little bird, and we did not have help. Tis what humanity has segregated us to. Now, you can really understand that.” Caine’s voice is a warm breath over my shoulder.

  I fling my arms out wildly. Anything to help me get a sense of direction.

  “So you won’t help me ... for spite?”

  He snickers. “Demon. Remember?”

  My eyes roll. “Oh, my bad. I forgot.”

  “I don’t see how,” Horan calls back from somewhere up ahead. “He never shuts up about it.”

  Caine inhales, the sound mocking. “You wound me. Truly.”

  Their banter is familiar, and only partly a joke. The tension between them is audible and visible, when there is light. Whatever history is there, goes back a long time.

  And with supernaturals, it can be a long, long time.

  Twin pinpricks of gold light brighten out of my peripheral. My head whips over.

  Was that a vampire?

  I trudge further, boots shuffling loudly over the rough floor. Masculine grunts flow to my ears, followed by the familiar sound of flesh striking flesh. A brawl?

  Another set of small lights flare in the dark, like eyes. I freeze.

  The sounds grow louder. Heavy footfalls resonate around me, pounding in my ears. There is a sharp twang of sound, and a whistling of air. Or something moving through it fast. A harsh male scream rends the residual silence and dome lights flood on.

  I blink, trying to adjust to the new glow. Half-clad men step back from their opponen
ts, sweat glistening over skin of every shade.

  Low fatigues and boots seem to be the norm. But the ethereal shine of their irises gives them all away.

  “That took ten minutes longer than last time,” Ruin’s voice is hard, authoritative. He pushes through the masses at the rear of the group, dark hair slicked back and his shirt gone.

  The crème muscle that greets me is like stone ridges, so damn defined I don’t know how he doesn’t grate when he walks. Trademark leather pants sit low over the swell of a masculine v at his hips and the rock-hard curve of his ass. His dark eyes glow softly with a bright line of gold as he takes in his men. They sweep over me absently, then track back and halt.

  He stares, words dying on his lips. With a hard shake of his head, he looks away. “Men, take five. Then we run through it again.”

  They peel off, casting curious glances in my direction.

  Ruin prowls over, his leather pants and dark boots silent. One pale hand closes over my arm and he begins to pull me back the way we came.

  I rip away.

  He eyes the men somewhere behind me. “No civilians in the Tunnel. You both know that.”

  Gone is the resolute Captain from last night. Even the heated vampire from the club would be a nice change. The male that watches me is cold, rigid, and unnecessary.

  A dark-clad shape eases up to my side. “She asked to speak to you, Cap,” Caine says, almost all his snark gone.

  Ruin’s lip curls. “And you know the rules.”

  I step in front of the demon, drawing the Captain’s icy attention. “I need to talk to you, Ruin.”

  Though it wasn’t my initial intention to find him this evening, fate has other plans. I want my freedom. And if that means helping with Vic ... So be it.

  He stands there. “Then talk.”

  I peer into the shadows at the groups of waiting men. Most, but not all of them watch us. Two, the ones from the club last night, take it all in with almost angry expressions.

  What the hell do they have to be angry about? My world has turned upside down since last night. Not theirs.

  My face heats with my temper. “What I have to say is not for any supernatural ears but yours. It’s nothing on your team, but you came to me last night. You asked to speak to me. Now I’m here, willing to help ... and you can’t give me five damn minutes?”

  His jaw mottles, but he remains quiet.

  I rock back. “I see.” My head shakes, and I can’t stop the smile. “Well, when you get your head out of your ass and want my help, you know where I’ll be.”

  Turning on my heel, I pat Caine on the arm and make sure the motion is easily visible. “Thanks for the escort.”

  He stares at me, but I laugh and start the walk back through the tunnel. With the lights on, it makes the going quick. Or maybe it’s from the near frenzied state of every step.

  I have one destination in mind, and it’s anywhere but here.

  14

  Ruin

  MY CHEST HEAVES AND every damn supe around the tunnel can hear the erratic beat of my heart.

  Why the fuck did they bring Lilah down here?

  “She is a sweet bird. Until you piss her off,” Caine quips. My vision goes black at his words. “In fact, I enjoyed her slap so much earlier, maybe I should try and get another.”

  I lunge and close my hand around his throat before slamming him into the tunnel wall. Dust flies around us. He watches me in sinister amusement, but the ruby sheen of his irises belies the fake emotion. His hands clasp over my arm. Not pulling away, but close.

  “Stay the fuck away from her.” He smirks at my words, and my fingers tighten until they mottle. He gags. “I mean it, Caine. Don’t fucking touch her. Ever.”

  “Ruin.”

  My eyes dip away from the demon to find Markus waiting; his arms are crossed and a scowl is on his face.

  I drop the demon against the wall. He staggers, but grips the stone to stay upright.

  Caine exhales and blows his hair from his face with a salacious grin. “The little bird teach you the man handling, too?” he asks. “Wouldn’t peg her for the kinky type, but the innocent ones always want the darker stuff more.”

  My fist flies.

  He drops low, but my knuckles scrape his cheek before embedding into the cement. Rusted pennies scent the air. Dust and chips of stone sail past, and my knuckles bust in a wash of warmth.

  Strong hands grab me, hauling me back. I don’t struggle. Horan grasps the demon’s collar; a touch of angelic light wreathes the blond man’s form as he starts carting his damned kin back through the tunnel. Caine cackles the whole way past, blood trickling from the tear in his tan skin.

  Markus watches them go with a dark expression. “Men, back to work.”

  They peel off. All except for Tanner and Gage, who remain steadfastly holding me. Their familiar scents mix—leather and fur—to help ease the rage.

  Markus huffs as soon as the others are gone. “Gentlemen. Come with me.”

  He stalks off and my oldest friends drag me along behind them. I shrug from their grasp.

  They step away, hands raised in placation. Markus never glances back, so sure that we will fall in line.

  There is nothing in me that wants to follow his lead.

  No, what I want is to find Lilah, spread her thighs, and seat myself to the hilt.

  My gums ache with the need to bury my fangs in her slender throat. To taste the seductive flavor that makes her skin smell so fucking good.

  Her anger... Her frustration... I want her little hands to hit me, to fight just a little. Then I want her to melt around me as I move, her slick, tight center rippling as I fuck her until all she wants is me.

  Not Caine or the gods-damn bloody legacy that Vic left her. Me .

  My hands fist and more of my blood trickles to the cement. But it doesn’t hurt.

  What hurts is the raging hard on I’ve had since she came into my life. The strange twist in my chest knowing Carnage is in her name. Her name. Not Victor’s. But the damn human woman setting my world on fire. The one who lied so well even I couldn’t tell the difference.

  Now that really fucking hurts. And I have no damn idea why.

  Markus stops at my office and motions the guys off. “Make sure Horan does not require assistance.”

  They exchange a glance. In a fight between the fallen angel and the demon, my money is on the angel every time. But they know a dismissal when they hear one.

  Markus grabs my arm and pulls me inside as they walk away without another word. He shuts the door and moves to the mini-fridge. Tugging out a bag of donor blood, he tosses it to me.

  “Drink.”

  I snag the bag and rip the corner with my teeth. Icy blood spills into my mouth, but the first swallow takes the rage and need down to something manageable. Calmer.

  My body sags with a small moan.

  Fuck.

  His eyes glint. “Better?”

  I suck the last few drops free before wiping my mouth with my cleaner hand. “Yeah.”

  He props up on my desk, arms folded. “When was the last time you fed?”

  “Underground. Last night.”

  Something moves through his eyes. “The scent in the tunnel ... It was the human woman’s?”

  I nod.

  “And the incident with Caine?”

  I drop the plasma bag in the bio-can and move to the file cabinet for the old first aid kit. Anything to keep from looking at him. With the blood, a lot of things are clearing. But my self-loathing at hitting the demon only grows.

  As does my anger at believing Lilah was a victim.

  “Thirst,” I mutter.

  He snorts. “Sure.”

  I glare at him as I wipe my hand with a fistful of paper towels.

  “I’ve seen that kind of reaction before, Ruin. But never one this strong in a transitioned vamp.”

  Since I completed my change to full-blood vampire almost eighty years ago, the increase in thirst isn’t a matter of my
change. It’s something else entirely.

  I wrap gauze around my knuckles until the blood kicks in. “Nor have I.”

  Silence follows my words. Markus’ fingers grab the edge of the gauze from me, tying it off. “This woman ... Do you find her attractive?” His tone is casual, but I know better.

  I peer at him. “Sure.”

  It’s a lie. I don’t find her attractive. I think she’s a fucking Goddess. Even now—knowing she lied ...

  “Would you bed her, if she allowed it?”

  My body locks down, blood pooling deep in my groin until everything grows hot. “Perhaps.”

  His gold eyes shimmer behind his pale hair. “And have there been any strange phrases that have popped in your head since you met her?”

  I blink. “What?”

  He sighs and steps back. “Nothing. Nothing.”

  I watch him, some of the lust fading as I try to work through his question and my needed apology. “My lord—”

  He holds up a hand. “No need, Ruin. If your attraction is interfering, then perhaps one of the others—”

  “No.” My voice comes out like a sharp growl. He raises a brow, and I cough. “I mean ... No, thank you, my lord. I can handle her.”

  His damn irises pulse, no doubt picking up the now pounding beat of my heart. “That’s good. Because until we figure this out, I want you at her side.”

  I stop breathing. “My lord?”

  “She is... What do the humans call it? Under witness protection?” he asks, eyes dancing. “Until we catch Vlad, she is our best lead. And who better to guard her than my best man?”

  15

  Lilah

  I DON’T MAKE THE MISTAKE of going back to my room. There is nothing for me to do there but sulk and pace. And I’m too old to do either.

  A low growl of sound leaves me. “The asshole.”

  “Which one?”

  My eyes raise to find a blond woman just outside a set of heavy oak doors. The midnight embellishments over the wood are harsh. Impenetrable. Like a fortress’ stronghold. And it seems to make her smaller. Her baby blue eyes are large in an almost child-like face. And the damn ringlets framing them don’t help. But her body is supermodel perfect as she watches me with a kind, open expression.