Seventh Mark (Part 1 +2) (25 page)

I shook my
head, too afraid to speak.

“This Bentos
killed Michael’s family. The story goes on that he’d seen Grace in
town that day and wanted her. There was something weird about those
twins back then. Bentos knew it. He had the Grollics attack at
dusk, but the Fallen were in the forest nearby and
interrupted.”

“The
Fallen?”

“Michael’s
kind. We call ‘em Fallen. If you don’t get why, figure that one out
yourself.”

I smiled as I
realized Sarah must have been close on Bentos’ heels.

“Your Fallen
aren’t going to want anything to do with you, dear Rouge. You’re
tainted, you’re almost one of us.” Laughter erupted from him, so
loudly it made me jump. “Except to us, you’re worse than a weak
Grollic.”

“Whatever. I’m
not a Grollic. You’re disgusting” I hated them, no freakin’ way
their blood ran in my veins.

Damon slapped
my face hard. My head swung so fast to the right, I swore it
cracked and adjusted every bone in my vertebrae.

“Get it through
your head,” he growled, “you are one of Bentos’ offspring.
You
are the seventh generation and the seventh child. You,
bitch, are the one thing
none
of us wants. No Grollic wants
you and your new little family’s going to let you rot when they
learn the truth.” He dropped down, his face inches from mine. “My
only question is how Bentos didn’t kill you off.”

My cheek
burned, but I refused to rub it. My childhood flooded back. No one
had ever wanted me – even my own mother abandoned me. The euphoria
I’d been feeling the past few weeks dissolved in an instant when I
realized Damon was right.

What if
Michael hated me?
He’d have good reason. My father or ancestor
killed his family, and I had the same blood running through me. I
slumped against the back of the chair, suddenly exhausted.
Happy
freakin’ Birthday. Wahoo
. Could Michael already know?

“The truth
hurts, doesn’t it?” Damon’s hands grabbed the end of the arms on my
chair and tilted it back. “Or, maybe it's the realization you knew
all along.”

I stared at
him, wide eyed. Here I’d been hoping I had the same blood of
Michael’s running through me. That I’d be part Fallen, or angel, or
whatever they were
.
The pull to the house, and yet the urge
to stay away nagged at the back of my mind. “Shut up, Damon.” I
suddenly didn’t care if he hit me again.

His eyes
narrowed, and a vein on his neck bulged. He dropped my chair back
to four on the floor. He grinned and straightened. “You’re in the
middle of a war you know nothing about, and you don’t have a
friggin’ clue how much you’re involved.” He grabbed the plates and
headed into the kitchen, only to return with another full
plate.

I felt tied to
the chair, even when there were no ropes around me. “You’re wrong.
I’m not who you say I am.” I ripped my collar down. “I’ve got no
mark to prove it.”

He paused,
mouth full, and peered at my neck and partially exposed chest.
“Maybe it’s different for you. Maybe it shows up when you turn
eighteen. When’s your birthday by the way?” He shrugged and
continued not giving me time to answer. “Seems you’re the last of
Bentos’ offspring. Everyone else has been killed off.” A fork full
of chicken meat pointed in my direction. “Someone hid you well by
sending you into foster care. It took us till last week to find out
anything about you. When I told my Alpha what you’d said, I knew
right away it was big. But you not having a clue…now that’s
priceless.” He chuckled, shaking his head.

“I’m not a
Grollic,” I whispered. “I’m nothing.”

“Yeah, by
tomorrow you will be. Nothing, that is.” With his thumb, he drew a
line across his neck. “Shame really. You know nothing of who you
are or what potential you could have. No one to inform or teach you
– I wish I could say my heart bleeds, but it doesn’t. I’m looking
forward to tomorrow.”

A long roar,
followed by two short shouts echoed outside the cabin. A moment
later, the sound repeated. Damon went to the window and stared
out.

I blinked,
surprised at how dark it was outside. Blacker than black.

Damon tapped
the glass and pointed at several different locations. “There are
twelve Grollics outside hoping you try to escape. I suggest, for
the sake of your new family, you stay here. It’ll give them a few
more hours of living. Or maybe they care to meet up with the twelve
Grollics at their cottage.” He took his plate and as he headed to
the kitchen, he added, “Sleep, sit, cry. Do whatever you want in
here. The Grollics outside are ordered to kill if you go outside,
and they will. If I were you, I wouldn’t test them to find
out.”

I watched him
walk out of the room and then turned my head toward the bay window.
The only thing I could see was the room’s reflection. How could I
warn Michael and Grace to stay away? What weapon did I have on my
side? Two measly bottles of liquor hadn’t done jack. If I tried
attacking Damon, he could handle me with one arm tied behind his
back. My other option of sneaking out didn’t look beneficial. Big
hairy beasts lurking in the bushes outside ready to kill me on
sight held little chance of survival.

I didn’t stand
a chance.

Damon said I
knew nothing about who I was. Was there strength in that? I hit my
palm against my forehead in frustration. I had a useless Grollic
book I couldn’t read.

I leapt from
the chair, needing to pace to get my mind to think properly.
The
Grollic book.
That they know nothing about.
I moved, my
palms gathering sweat. I might not be able to read it all, but I
could read some. No one else could read it. If Bentos actually was
my father –grandfather/whatever – could I read it because the book
belonged to him? Could this book have found me because of who I
was…because of my bloodline?

A warm feeling
rose in my chest – a twinge of hope. Maybe there was a chance, a
small possibility.

The momentary
optimism disappeared when Damon returned from the kitchen, his eyes
narrowing when he caught me pacing and saw the look on my face. My
heart flip-flopped when his face darkened, his eyes turning an ugly
yellow colour. He stomped over and shoved me hard onto the couch.
Pain shot across my shoulders and up my neck when he grabbed my
already bruised throat with both hands.

“Don’t try to
figure some lousy plan. There’s no way it'll work.” With each word,
he squeezed his fingers on my throat to match the cadence. Damon
pulled his hand away, as if I burned him. “You pace, and you're
going to bring the Grollics inside. Pacing makes them nervous,” he
said, getting inches away from my face, his hot breath blasting
across my cheeks, “and we don’t like anxiety. I want full glory for
this, and if I have to kill you myself to bring you to my Alpha,
I'll do it in a heartbeat. Don’t piss me off!” He pushed away from
me and swore under his breath.

Gasping for
air, and unsure if my neck could handle another round of
crush-testing, I clawed at my shirt trying to stretch the collar in
an attempt to open my throat.

He dumped his
large frame onto the other side of the couch, and banged his feet
on the coffee table. He crossed his arms over his chest and
scowled. “Don’t screw this up. I might be the only one able to save
you.”

Horse
shit
. Blackmailing and kidnapping did not represent protection.
He was using me. He wanted me dead. I refused to acknowledge
him.

“Your friends
are toast. I can’t do anything for their kind. And you,” he said,
shaking his head, “deserve what’s coming because you chose to
associate with them.”

Hands clenched,
I stiffened and my eyebrows crushed together as I stared Damon
down. His hair clung to his head, plastering itself to the sweat on
the forehead of his contorted face. I’d never really hated anyone,
but at this very moment, I hated Damon. I hated his Alpha leader,
and the twelve Grollics outside the cabin. All of them, they didn’t
deserve to live.

I wished I had
the Grollic book here. If Damon was telling the truth and if I was
right about the book belonging to Bentos, everything would be seen
in a different light.

I straightened
and gasped: the book had been written to stop the Grollics, not
understand them.

Glancing up, I
turned to Damon. His head had fallen back, eyes closed and his
chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. Only a brainless Grollic
like Damon could fall asleep at a time like this.
Maybe there’s
a weapon hidden somewhere in the cabin
. Quiet and with as least
movement as possible, I slid from where I sat and snuck toward the
hall.

A howl broke
through the quiet night air. Damon jumped instantly alert. I moved
to the couch in an attempt to drop into it and make myself
disappear. The hair on the back of my neck prickled against my
sweatshirt.

Damon walked to
the front door and stuck his head out. Could he hear as well in
human-form as when he’s a Grollic?

Nothing. Only
silence.

Then a short
howl, further away, echoed in the night. Damon shut the door. He
stretched and walked back over to the chair I’d previously
occupied. “Nobody’s coming to save you tonight. Your friends are
searching the other side of town. They’re not even close to the
lake.” He closed his eyes.

“You think I’m
going to let you sleep?” It irritated me to think he’d just sleep.
I’d probably be dead tomorrow and he had no issues of guilt or
second thoughts. Had he killed before? “I have questions I deserve
answers to.”

He didn’t
bother to open his eyes, not even a tiny slit. “No.”

“You’re an ass.
This is going to come back on you one day.”

Damon heaved a
huge sigh and sat up, rubbing his face. Without a word, he went
into the kitchen and rummaged through the cupboards. Glasses
clinked and then the tap water began running. He came back and
handed me the glass. Before sitting back down, he set two white
tablets on the coffee table. “Aspirin. Take them or I will. You’re
giving me a headache.” He glared at me while I held the glass. His
eyes turned dark when I refused to move. “At least drink the water,
you’re voice sounds like shit.”

“That’s ‘cause
you’ve been strangling me. I –”

“Drink it. Or
I’ll force it down your throat.”

Not liking the
amber color in his eyes, I brought the glass to my lips and
swallowed down the lukewarm water. It tasted slightly metallic,
coppery. I drank half, frowned and set the glass on the table,
licking the roof of my mouth. “I’m not taking your little pills.
Bull-crap they are aspirin.”

Dick-head
smirked and interlaced his fingers on his chest. “Fine. Now you’ll
sleep.”

“No, I won’t.
I’m not…” I paused, wondering why my arms and head seemed suddenly
heavy. Even my eyelids felt like they weighed fifty pounds each.
Too late, I realized he’d used the aspirin as a ploy and drugged
the water knowing I wouldn’t take the pills. My upper body fell
against the cushions behind me. Just before my head followed, and
my mind sank into oblivion I mumbled, “You bas’sard.”

A sharp pain
along the side of my neck made me grimace behind closed eyes. I
tried rolling my neck to stretch out the stiff muscle. When I
inhaled a whiff of musty wet hair instead of the flowery scent of
the pool house, I jerked and nearly fell off the couch.

I rubbed my
neck where it had kinked. The groaned at the pain caused from the
bruises that now probably covered my throat. Damon lay sprawled on
the floor between the coach and the window.
Idiot’s comatose and
snoring
. He’d shoved the coffee table against the wall while
I’d been out. The room misted with morning light.

Whatever Damon
had snuck into the water had made me dead to the world, but didn’t
leave me feeling groggy. Either that or the thought of my eminent
death cleared any residual effects away. I quietly stood and
tentatively stepped over him to look out the window. It’d snowed
more during the night.

Just as I
lifted up my right leg to the other side of him, Damon grabbed my
left ankle and sent me flying forwards. I turned, only to end up
falling on my back and knocking the wind out of me. Damon pushed my
feet, sending me sprawling across the wooden floor until the wall
stopped my momentum. My head slammed against the wall and an
instant headache spread. I was too stunned to move.

He crouched in
an attack position, squatting on the balls of his feet. The noise
that came out of his throat reminded me of the growl he had let out
yesterday before turning into a Grollic. I stayed glued to the
wall, terrified, but unable to look away.

The room became
dead quiet, except for his mucus breathing. Still crouched, he
shuddered and flexed his arms close against his body. “What the –?”
His gaze narrowed in on me. He leapt to where I lay and with both
hands, squeezed my shoulders painfully tight. He lifted me so his
head and mine were level.

I tried to
focus, his eyes swimming in circles from my head-butt with the
wall.

“What the hell
did you do?” he screamed and shook me.

Terrified, I
tried to clear my thoughts and concentrate.

Obviously not
fast enough from him, he held me by one arm and he slapped my face
hard. “I’ll ask you once more. This time, answer me or I break your
arm.”

I swallowed
back the blood in my mouth oozing from my split lip. The side of my
face burned and I ran my tongue over the swelling already forming
on my lower lip. I blinked and tried to focus, scared he’d hit me
again if I didn’t answer fast enough. “I-I d-didn’t do a-anything.
I ha-haven’t touched you.”

“Lying spawn of
Bentos! Whatever you did, FIX IT RIGHT NOW!!!” His face contorted
as his lips curled over his teeth and his eyes shot daggers at me.
The white and his pupils didn’t change color. No burnt yellow, only
bloodshot red.