Marked

by A.N. Meade

could.

  Her smile was unconvincing, and Marc’s expression became more severe. “I relinquish so much control to you for fear that in holding you too tightly, I will push you away. I lie here alone, as you drink your fill of old anthologies for hours and hours on end. I have done all I can to give you what you need. I have been more than willing, but I will not let you lie to me.”

  His words tore at her heart. “If I have lied to you, it was only to protect you. Since you must have it, I will tell you everything, even though I don’t understand what is happening myself.” Being fully resolved to tell Marc the truth did not make speaking the words any easier. Aimee thought for a moment about how she could word things to begin to explain. Nothing seemed right, so she decided for direct honesty. “The nightmares are back.”

  Marc fought to control his rage. Even under the guise of proper pitch and a blank face, Aimee could still see it reflected in Marc’s eyes. His anger crawled across her skin, as he pressed her for more detail, “How long?”

  “It stopped for a few weeks after Liam’s ritual. Then, the dreams started back. It’s happening more and more often now.” The look on Marc’s face made Aimee wish that she were a better liar. She would have done anything to have born this horrible and shameful burden alone.

  “Why didn’t you tell me? After all of this time, after everything, you still feel like you have to hide things from me?” Marc pressed her now for answers that he had been too afraid to seek before. This might be the only chance he had to ask, and he needed to know what barrier there was still to her trusting him wholeheartedly.

  There was nothing Aimee could do but be honest. Marc was right. He deserved the truth from her. He had given everything for her, to her. He deserved the truth. “What would you have done, Marc? What could you have done? You cannot fight a memory.”

  She was right, Marc knew that she was. There was nothing that he could do. He could not protect her from this. Exhausting every resource, he had changed nothing. Aimee could see, as his rage gave way to despair. “What would you have of me then? Should I pretend not to see the pain that he causes you? Should I ignore the space he has put between us? Tell me what you want from me to make this somehow better.”

  Aimee leaned in and kissed Marc. She kissed him with all of the passion and need that had been suppressed alongside her fear and shame. She let him feel how very much she loved him, needed him, and wanted him. He opened to her, pressing back with the intensity of his own need and desire. As they pulled away from each other, Aimee knew that this had only been a temporary distraction. She had no idea how to handle this, or if anything could be done at all. She looked into Marc’s eyes and spoke her heart. “Knowing that I have you on my side means everything to me. Because you love me so unconditionally, things are already better.”

  Marc took the small comfort that Aimee offered. This past year had been difficult beyond what either of them could have imagined. Marc knew that the key to getting through this would be the perspective that they chose. Holding her in his arms, He was even more determined to protect her. He had to find some way to keep her safe from Damian. He laid awake for hours, sorting through past acquaintances in his mind. There had to be someone that he could call on in all the years that he had walked this earth that could help him to put a stop to this. Liam was still the best resource he could think of. If Liam couldn’t help any further himself, he would certainly know who could.

  Marc sent Liam a message the next day, and just as he had always done, Liam replied with, “I’m on my way.” Within hours he was walking through the front door. He did not wait for Marc to extend the typical cordialities when he arrived. He could see from Marc’s face and hear in his tone how serious his concern was. “I got here as quick as I could. What’s going on?”

  The pain in Marc’s face had to have been obvious. “It’s Aimee, The nightmares have started again. She’s distancing herself from me. She barely eats, and what rest she might have is torn from her by these dreams.” There was disdain in Marc’s voice as he spoke the words dream and nightmare. These words did not begin to describe what was happening.

  Liam could hardly believe that Aimee was already struggling again, and worse, that Damian was the source of her torment. Liam sorted through year upon year of memories, trying to think of what could be done. This had all begun with a demon’s curse. Banishing the demon had not solved the problem, and Liam had to wonder why. Demons are messengers of the Dark Lord, as angels are messengers to the Father God. Perhaps it was that Damian’s bargain was not with the demon at all, but rather was with Satan himself. There was no way to “banish” Satan. He is already a prisoner and his fate sealed.

  The intensity of Liam’s thoughts was apparent to Marc. “What is it, Liam? All of these years you have been as a brother to me. I trust you. Tell me what is happening, and what must be done.”

  Liam had never lied to Marc. He had never deceived him in any way. Yet, here he was boiling with the desire to lie to his friend. Marc had always been good at reading people. He could see the hesitancy in Liam, and feel the weight of his hidden revelation. It was suffocating. “Marc, if the deal that Damian made had been with the demon, the ritual would have stopped this.” Liam took a deep breath and leaned against the wall. The sunlight was shining in brightly through the windows on either side of the doors. It should not have shone so brightly. It should not have been beautiful. One of his closest friends was standing here in complete hopelessness, and it was a beautiful day. There was something wrong with that.

  “Liam, tell me what you think is happening.”

  He wasn’t sure, but Marc had asked him directly. He believed that Marc could cope with the truth. He had to. “I believe that the deal Damian made was with the Devil. If I’m right, the demon only carried the message. Satan is bound, but his power and influence are ever present on this earth. It’s like the leader of a criminal organization, who can send out orders even when they are in prison. There are hosts of demons. Banishing one at a time will never work.”

  Liam had rarely felt emotions, at least not in any human sort of way. Despite not often feeling emotions, Liam had a gift for picking up on the emotions of others. Marc’s sorry and despair over Aimee was beginning to seep into him. Marc relied on him as a friend and as a protector.

  “What is to be done?”

  Marc’s question was a simple one. It was too bad that such a simple question could not be answered simply. “I’m not sure what the answer is, friend. Whatever it is, I do not think we will find it in modern Christianity. The answers we need will be much closer to the source than that.”

  Liam’s speech always seemed encrypted. Marc had often wondered if Liam did that on purpose, or if he was speaking as plainly as he could. “Can the witches help us?” Marc wondered.

  “I don’t see how, but you can ask.” Liam winced at the mention of them. They had often become hungry for power. He destroyed his share of them over the centuries. It would be wrong to chide Marc for thinking of them, but this would not be something he could help with.

  “What else can I do?” Marc asked. He would consider the aid of anyone at this point.

  “Pray.”

  “Pray? Do you have any idea how long it has been since I prayed? I would not know how to begin, neither does it matter. God will not hear me, Liam.” The strain showed on Marc’s face, and in his eyes which held a deep pain. He had given up his religion when he became a vampire. He never believed that the two could co-exist. He couldn’t believe it, especially after what he had to do.

  “Then tell Aimee to pray, because if it’s the Devil you are dealing with, no one else can help you.”

  Marc could sense someone at the top of the stairs. He could hear Aimee on tiptoe as she tried to sneak back toward their room. He sighed deeply, “I don’t have to tell her. She was standing at the top of the stairs.”

  Liam let out his breath slowly. He would not have been so blunt if he had known Aimee was listening in on t
hem. “How long was she standing there?”

  “I’m not sure, just for the last I think. You should go up and talk to her. It would do her good to see you.”

  “You’re right.” Liam started up the stairs after her. He had to skip every other step. With his height, his stride was much too long to have used each step.

  In no time, Liam was standing on the second floor. Aimee had pushed the heavy wooden door partially shut behind her. She was lying on the bed and facing toward the window, pretending to be asleep. Liam knew better. He sat down on the bed behind her as gently as he could, and began to speak. It was easier to tell her the truth when he didn’t have to look into her eyes anyway.

  “Aimee, I know you can hear me. I came here to help you. I’ll stay as long as you need me to.”

  She had been crying. Liam could hear it in her breath. If it were possible, he felt worse that he had been so direct earlier.

  “Liam, you said that I should pray, but does God hear me now? Marc says he doesn’t hear those like us.”

  Liam started to try and explain Marc’s statement, but Aimee would have none of it. She had heard their conversation. There was no mistaking what was said. “I believe that He can hear you, Aimee. It’s easy for most vampires to believe that God cares nothing for