Marked

by A.N. Meade

facing the only window, and the setting sun. His body was bare from the waist up. You couldn’t help but notice the tattoos that were etched into his skin. The colors were vibrant, and the figures were quite unusual. Centered between his shoulder blades was an ankh. The ankh itself was done in brown and red ink, and the shape at the top of the anchor cross held a captivating eye.

  “The Eye of God,” Marc spoke in a low whisper. He must have noticed her stare. “It’s the Eye of God, it represents the spirit. The brown and red are the Holy Spirit and the earth. The halo above it in yellow and orange are heaven. Yellow is a Celtic symbol of light and purity, and orange is passion tempered by wisdom. I am sure that Liam must control himself in this way to do what he is asked to do.

  Below the ankh, two fish, inked in bright blue and green, curved around each of his sides, they were beautiful, and almost seemed to be in motion.

  “What are the fish?” She whispered softly in Marc’s ear.

  “They represent Christianity, humanity’s connection to God. The blue is hope, and the green is freedom.”

  On his left bicep was a white horse, and an oak tree. On his right arm were holly, and a dark unicorn. Aimee thought for a moment, but couldn’t figure out what they might represent. These tattoos were especially meaningful to Marc because they were Celtic symbols. The oak and the white horse represented the light part of the year in Celtic tradition, and also the light aspect of man. The oak represents the journey of man from what he is, to what he was meant to become. The holly represents eternity, and the eternal spirit of man. The unicorn is the white horse, which has become powerful and rules over the darkness.

  To either side of Liam was each of his friends. They wore dark robes with white priest’s collars. They knelt down in earnest prayer. There was an energy that filled the room. There was a cumulative power between them. Despite their strength, Aimee began to worry for Liam. He looked so vulnerable there alone in the center of the circle. The prayers of his brothers interlaced and merged into a low, singular voice.

  Finally, Liam’s voice stood out in a prayer of his own. “My God, Father in heaven, and Creator of heaven and earth, I praise you with all of my heart, mind, and soul. Be with your servant I pray, as I fulfill your will for my life. Strengthen me Lord, and give me the wisdom that I need as I enter into battle. I am your vessel. Guide my hand.”

  As he rose to his feet, Aimee could see that he had taken up a sword which lay in front of him. The handle was bound in black leather, and embossed with golden vines of ivy which ran from the handle, partway up the blade itself. At the base of the handle was a strange gem. It looked like blown glass, but inside it swirled with many moving colors. The blade was sharp, and glinted with the last rays of the setting sun. He held the blade at his chest, and kneeling again, began to recite scripture from the book of Revelations in the Holy Bible, chapter five.

  As he spoke a wind began to blow. “And now they sing a new song, saying, You are worthy to take the scroll and to break the seals that are on it, for You were slain, and with Your blood You purchased men unto God from every tribe and language and people and nation. And You have made them a kingdom and priests to our God, and they shall reign over the earth!”

  The wind slowed and he was caught in one of the last distinct rays of the sun as it set beyond the window.

  “Deserving is the Lamb, who was sacrificed, to receive all the power and riches and wisdom and might and honor and majesty and blessing!”

  The light from the candles dimmed a bit, and the prayers of his fellow priests softened to a whisper. His own voice grew louder.

  “To Him who is seated on the throne and to the Lamb be ascribed the blessing and the honor and the majesty and the power forever and ever!”

  After he had finished reciting this scripture, his brothers, standing now to either side of him, began to recite the same phrase over and over. “Servatis a periculum, servatis a maleficum.”

  “What is it?” As Aimee whispered to Marc, she could feel the energy begin to rise in the room. Something very significant was starting to happen.

  “Its Latin, it means save us from danger, save us from evil.”

  Liam again rose to his feet. The tip of the sword was centered on the floor between his feet, and his hands gripped the handle. He continued reciting the scripture, “… As the Lamb broke open one of the seven seals…there was a white horse whose rider carried a bow. And a crown was given him, and he rode forth conquering, and to conquer. And when He broke the second seal… another horse came out, flaming red. And its rider was empowered to take the peace from the earth, so that men slaughtered one another; and he was given a huge sword.”

  “Don’t stop now.” A voice teased from the shadows. “The third is famine, the fourth death, the fifth the cries of the martyrs, the sixth cosmic disturbances.”

  A storm began to brew outside. Aimee could hear the distant roll of thunder, across the sky shot a bright star. Inside the attic, a large figure stepped out of the shadows, clothed in armor darker than night. There was a veil of shadow across his face, so that no features could be distinguished. There was a sword in his hand, identical to Liam’s except that instead of ivy, flames were etched onto its blade.

  “Zaebos?”

  “It is one of the names by which I am known, Watcher.”

  “Do you know why I have sought to meet with you?”

  The demon laughed. “You wish me to end the conflict on the earth?” His voice was mocking.

  Liam did not stumble. “That power is granted to God alone.”

  “What then, do you want of me?”

  “You’ve been toying with a human spirit.”

  “I’ve done nothing outside of my power.” The demon stared solidly at Liam.

  “You’ve marked a human soul. You’ve oppressed her.”

  “Why are you meddling in this matter, Watcher?” The demon’s eyes narrowed. His stance was tense, ready.

  “You are manipulating free will. Leave her alone.” Liam lifted his sword.

  “Or what?”

  “To me it was given the power to conquer, and by Christ I may send you back to the Abyss.”

  The demon raised his sword and stood ready for battle. Liam matched his stance, his shoulders square in echo of his opponent.

  Then, the demon struck at Liam, who met his blow. “Don’t you see that my work is well underway? I have millions of children. As for the girl…”

  Liam had forced the demon’s blade to the ground. Zaebos stepped forward and looked right at Aimee. “He knows where you are now, your blood ties you too him. My part of the bargain is fulfilled.”

  Light rose from beneath the floor around the circle, a visible sign of its barrier. Even though she knew that he couldn’t reach her, his gaze was terrifying. She could feel her heart beating in her throat. She knew that it was true that his blood pulsed through her veins. He had been Marc’s maker, and that would forever bind them.

  Liam swung his sword, stopping it just above the demon’s head. “Remove the mark.”

  Zaebos lowered his sword to the ground, and turned to face Liam. “Alright watcher, I lift my curse, but it is no matter. He already has her in his grasp.” With that the demon began to laugh, and knelt on the floor in front of Liam.

  “In nomine Patris et fillii et Spiritus Sancti.” Liam brought the blade down across Zaebos’ head and shoulders.

  The demon disappeared into darkness beneath him in the floor. The hole closed, and Liam let the blade of his sword rest again between his feet. Sweat poured over his body. He fell under the weight of his trembling muscles and leaned his head against the side of the sword. The wall of light, which had risen up around the circle fell again to the floor, and moved in to the center where it disappeared.

  His two friends approached Liam. “Come, brother.”

  They took him under each arm and carried him into the great room. They got two bowls of water and began to wipe down his body. His skin was red, as if it had bee
n seared by fire. “May God restore your strength quickly.”

  Marc walked inside while Aimee watched from the doorway. “Is there anything that you need?”

  “A plate of food, he will be hungry when he comes to himself, thank you.” The men never even looked at Marc. They were focused on attending to their brother. They were pale. The ritual had been draining on them as well.

  Marc didn’t linger. “No, thank you.” He meant it with all of his soul. He turned and walked out, to leave them to their work. He took Aimee’s hand as they left the room and started down the hall toward the kitchen.

  Her steps felt lighter. The shadow was gone. The heaviness on her chest was gone. Despite the fact that her thigh felt like it was on fire, she felt very good, and very grateful to Liam for what he had done. She didn’t let the demon’s words bother her. She would be free now. She was free to focus on building a life here with Marc, and on building stronger friendships with Liam, Enric, and Natasha. She had hope for the future. She felt strong, and loved. Whatever tomorrow would bring, she would be ready. She had love and support that she had never dared to wish for. With them at her back, whatever happened, she felt certain that she could face it.

  -End of Marked.Continue on to read the first two chapters of the next book in the Marked by the Vampire Series, Beauty and the Darkness

   

  Something Borrowed

  It wasn’t for the pursuit of power, but rather a deep rooted