Marked (Servants of Fate Book 1)

by Sarah Fine

  “Len,” Cacy shouted, pointing to the only un-Marked victims on his side, an elderly woman and a little boy. “Prioritize those two. Take your patients and get going.”

  Len had known Cacy too long to question her. Everybody knew the Ferrys were never wrong in their triage; they just didn’t know why.

  Eli twisted around in time to see her snap the Scope back to the chain. He glanced over at the dying girl crumpled against the storefront and gave Cacy a questioning look. He was probably wondering why she was standing there with her metaphorical dick in her hand while an unattended patient lay mere feet away.

  She had just opened her mouth to give him some stupid explanation when a deafening crack sounded in her ears. Fiery agony shot all the way through her shoulder. She hit the sidewalk face-first, gasping, already reaching for her tranq gun with her good hand. Warning shouts from the other side of the canal told her what she already knew.

  The canal pirates had arrived.

  Cacy flipped onto her back and swung the tranq gun up, pulling the trigger and nailing the bastard who’d shot her before he could do it again. He grunted and pitched over onto the sidewalk, a dart protruding from his neck. Panting with the pain, she rolled to her side and pushed herself to her hands and knees, batting the pirate’s improvised bolt gun out of his reach, wishing her code of ethics allowed her to use it on him. She raised her head and looked around.

  Where had she left Eli? Had they already gotten him? Had he remembered to grab his tranq gun from the cab?

  The body of a pirate landed heavily next to her. Drool flew from his slack mouth, landing in viscous strands on the cement. A dart was sticking out of his cheek.

  Eli had remembered his tranq gun.

  He stood protectively over his patient, his green eyes practically glowing with rage. An empty tranq gun lay at his feet, as did another darted pirate. Eli held the body board in front of him like a shield. Two other pirates had hemmed him in and backed him up against the canal wall, swinging at him with blood-stained rebar machetes. And a third pirate was behind Eli, scalpel in hand, clinging to a ladder propped against the side of the canal wall.

  Cacy’s chest went tight. She got to her feet, hissing at the pain in her shoulder. This was like a replay of what had happened to her partner a few weeks ago. But her warning shout froze in her throat as Eli kicked the scalpel wielder in the face without even looking behind him. A second pirate slashed at his head, and Eli ducked, then landed a devastating kick to the guy’s knee while he used the body board to block the third pirate’s machete swing.

  Cacy aimed her tranq gun and was squeezing the trigger when a hard body plowed into her, knocking her to the sidewalk again. Her chin bounced off the ground, sending lightning bolts of pain zinging through her head, turning her vision to white static.

  A pirate sat on her back and wound his steely fingers through her hair. He yanked her head up and peered down at her. His eyes lit up when he saw the pretty piece of jewelry around her neck.

  He examined her face next. “Healthy,” he said cheerfully, clearly thinking of the profit he’d make from harvesting her organs.

  “Fucking pirate,” she spat as blood dripped from her chin. He leaned close to fumble for the zipper of her uniform. She gagged at the stench of his breath. Her fingers scrabbled and stretched for her tranq gun, which lay a few feet away, taunting her. She desperately hoped Len and the others were all right on the other side of the canal. She could only pray Eli had taken out that last—

  The weight at her back lifted and she kissed the sidewalk again, then jerked her head around to see if another threat was headed her way. Her attacker lay on the ground, his nose steadily gushing blood. Eli shook out his right hand in a casual sort of way, like he punched canal pirates all the time. Then he scooped Cacy’s tranq gun from the sidewalk and shot the pirate in the neck without the slightest hint of hesitation.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Eli dropped the gun and turned the pirate on his side so he didn’t choke on his own blood. Something deep inside him rumbled, the pressure building, the lid ready to blow. He wanted to kill this bastard so badly that it was almost painful to hold back. But he’d promised himself he was done with that part of his life. He forced his eyes away from the pirate and retrieved his med kit from beside the head-wound patient. The accident victim needed to get to the hospital as soon as possible, but Eli wasn’t going anywhere without Cacy, who lay facedown on the sidewalk.

  He reached her just as she flopped onto her back, wincing in pain, her eyelids fluttering. Her chin and mouth were bleeding, which ratcheted up his desire to punish the canal pirate to a frightening level.

  Eli sank to his knees and got behind her, allowing her to lean against him as he fished in his kit. The flash of a siren brought his head up. Len and the others were pulling out with their patients. Len was leaning out his window, trying to see Cacy. Eli’s arms tightened around her. He nodded at Len. I’ve got her. You can go. The night shift supervisor glared back but fired up his water jets and sped toward the hospital with sirens wailing.

  Eli gently probed the delicate line of Cacy’s jaw and nose. Nothing was obviously broken. She blinked furiously as he shone his biolight into her eyes. “Stop it,” she said. “I just need a minute and I’ll be fine.”

  “Pupils equal and round, reactive to light,” he commented, determined to stay focused. Before she could protest, he pushed her mouth open and pressed an autostaunch patch to the cut inside her cheek.

  “Sorry,” he said when he saw the pain in her eyes. He stroked the backs of his gloved fingers down the side of her face, unable to help himself.

  “I’m fine,” she said, struggling to get up. Her left arm was hanging limp at her side. Their uniforms were bulletproof, but that didn’t mean getting hit by ballistic hardware didn’t hurt like hell. She would have an enormous bruise.

  Eli got to his feet and held his hand out. Cacy took it, allowing him to pull her up. She swayed in place but steadied herself immediately. Her eyes slid over the unconscious bodies of the five canal pirates he’d taken out.

  Her full lips curled slightly at the corners. “The desert must have been a rougher place than I thought.”

  “I’ll tell you about it sometime.” Eli didn’t even try to hide his own relieved smile at the sight of her striding forward to check on one of the accident victims. She was tough.

  Cacy touched the neck of the teenage girl who’d been thrown against the storefront. She waved her cardiac wand over the girl’s chest and did not seem surprised when it remained silent. “Black,” she said quietly, turning back to him.

  He met her gaze steadily. “I’ll get the stretchers for the others. We can transport two in a pinch, right?”

  Cacy nodded. They worked together to get the two patients aboard their rig. Cacy grimly black-tagged the girl. With any luck, the morgue team would arrive before another pirate gang descended to cut her up. Dec had told him the demand was so high for transplants that even freshly dead organs fetched a pretty price in the backstreet clinics.

  Cacy drove to Central Medical Center while Eli kept their passengers alive in the back. They rushed their human cargo into the emergency department, handing them off to the harried hospital staff, then drove back to the EMS station, just a block away. Cacy pulled the ambulance into its spot and hunched over the steering wheel for a few seconds. Her shoulders rose as she took a deep breath. Then she sat up quickly, opened the door, and got out.

  Eli jumped out of the passenger side and circled the ambulance, blocking her path to the supply cabinet. “I’ll clean out the back and refill supplies. You need a break.”

  She bowed her head and nodded. Her shiny black hair fell over her face, and her fingers rose to touch her pendant. Eli’s heart did a funny little kick. She was still giving him whiplash. Tough one moment, vulnerable the next.

  He pulled off his glove and leaned close
, brushing his thumb lightly along the corner of her mouth. “Is your mouth still bleeding? Do you want me to take another look?”

  She shook her head. “I’m fine. I heal quickly. But you’re right about me needing a break.” She raised her eyes to his, and he felt like he might drown in them. “I won’t be long. Thanks, Eli.”

  It was the first time she’d said his name, and God, it sounded good. “Take your time, Cacy.”

  She rewarded him with a flicker of a smile before her eyes hooded. His hand fell from her face as she backed away and walked slowly toward the locker room. He watched her go, fighting the urge to scoop her up and carry her.

  “Hey, new boy. How’d you like your first taste of EMS Boston-style?” Len swaggered toward him, holding a bottle of Powderkleen and a decon kit. He wore a tight, menacing smile on his face.

  “Well, it wasn’t boring.” Eli walked to the back of the rig and pulled open the rear doors.

  Len followed him. “How’s my girl?”

  Eli bit back the words she’s not yours and looked over his shoulder, toward the locker room. “She got a little beat up, but she seems all right.”

  Len set the cleaning supplies on the floor of the ambulance. “Cacy and her last partner were attacked by a horde of canal pirates a few weeks ago. An accident a lot like this one. Those bastards have spliced into our feed, and they always show up, looking for easy organ donors.”

  The memory of that canal pirate trying to rip off Cacy’s uniform flashed in Eli’s mind. That thug had looked like he had more on his mind than just impromptu surgery. Eli’s throat ached as he swallowed hard. “Was she hurt?”

  “Nah, not seriously. But her candy-assed partner lost his kidneys and liver before she could do anything about it.” Len stared at him with a fierce expression. “You better keep your eyes open, boy. She doesn’t need to go through that again.”

  Eli stared back. “I can take care of myself.” And her, if she needs it.

  Len nodded. “You did all right.” He stepped up close to Eli and growled in his ear. “But if you touch her again like you did just now, I’ll get you transferred so fucking fast your head will spin.”

  Every muscle in Eli’s body went tight. He’d just fought off canal pirates and saved two patients’ lives. Yeah, sure, he’d taken a little extra interest in whether his partner was okay, but he hadn’t been the one yapping about prying her legs open a few hours ago. Len probably did have the power to get him transferred to a far-flung station, though. It took every ounce of willpower Eli had, but he simply nodded stiffly.

  Len took a few steps back, looking smug. “Glad we have an understanding. Now, get on with your decon. You never know when we’ll get another call.”

  Eli gripped the Powderkleen bottle as Len strutted off toward the locker room, but his mind was already drifting back to Cacy. How long had she been at this job? Why had she chosen it over a sweet corporate position at Daddy’s company? Why would she risk her life like this if she didn’t have to? What made her so tough? She’d probably been raised in luxury, not the hardscrabble existence he and Galena had endured when they were growing up.

  He washed down the inside of his rig, grateful for the meticulous, familiar activity. Cacy obviously wasn’t interested in Len. The guy was a domineering asshole, despite his excellent taste in mockolate. So what kind of guy was Cacy interested in? Eli ground his teeth as he tossed a bunch of enzymatic cleaning cloths into a biohazard bag. He shouldn’t even be wondering about that. Not with Len breathing down his neck, not with Cacy being his boss’s sister.

  But as he tried to chase the memory of her seductive smile from his head, he realized his new job was going to be harder than he’d thought—for the last reason he would have worried about.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Cacy gave her face a quick wipe as she stared at her battered reflection in the bathroom mirror. Lovely. At least the bruise on her chin would only last an hour or so. She unzipped her uniform and turned around to check out her shoulder. Ugh. That bruise, which blossomed like a hideous indigo flower from her shoulder blade, would take a bit longer to heal—maybe the rest of her shift. Its purple tendrils fanned out across her skin, intertwining with the black raven’s wings tattooed across her back. The Mark of the Ferry. It kept her safe from the vengeful Kere, some of whom would happily Mark a Ferry for death just so they didn’t have to share the commission. The Ferry Mark was one of many conditions set by the ancient treaty between the Keepers of the Afterlife, and Moros, Lord of the Kere.

  Cacy winced as she pulled her uniform back on. Her limbs were heavy and aching with fatigue. She wanted to lie down in the back of her rig and get her hour of daily sleep. Or maybe let Eli examine her again. The thought of her new, understated, ass-kicking partner brought a smile to her lips. Maybe he’d let her watch him eat another piece of mockolate. God, the look on his face . . . She wondered what else might make him look like that, because what she wouldn’t do to see that expression again. It might even be worth breaking her man-fast, for a few minutes at least. Or maybe several hours.

  She shook her head. A fling would be bad, even if it was just meaningless fun. She’d have to work with the guy afterward.

  Plus, she had other things to attend to right now. Sometimes duty sucked.

  The Scope was frigid in her fingers as she swiped her thumb over its surface. She pulled its edges wide, lowered the ring over her head, and stepped into the Veil. Her feet sank into the gel-like floor as she stepped outside the boundaries of the ring and compacted it into a disk. Then she stretched it open again, creating another portal. This one would take her to the souls she needed to guide.

  The skyscrapers were the first thing she saw as her head emerged through the intra-Veil portal, and she stepped out onto the sidewalk next to the High Street Canal. The normally colorful, sweltering atmosphere was dry and frigid in the Veil. The canal was filled with dull-gray boats and AVs, and the sidewalks were packed with shadowy, transparent people, all bustling and scraping and praying and sweating. The Veil muted their voices and scents, the quiet wrapping around Cacy like a layer of ice as they walked through her like ghosts, oblivious to her presence. Oblivious to the nine souls sitting patiently on the low canal wall, shivering silently in the cold.

  “Hi, folks,” Cacy said. “I’m here to show you where to go.” She repeated her statement in Spanish and Mandarin. As a Ferry, she could speak whatever language was understood by the souls she was guiding—but only when she was in their presence. At first it had been a strange experience, hearing those foreign words roll off her tongue, but she had long since grown used to it. And since she mostly guided souls in the Chinatown emergency response zone, she’d actually managed to pick up some conversational Mandarin over the years.

  The people in front of her all nodded in response to her re–assurances. Newly departed souls were often oddly numb and passive—until they found out where they were going to end up for eternity. After that, things sometimes got interesting. She flipped her Scope, watching its tiny center as she walked along the line and passed each soul to get a preview of where she’d be sending each one. She always opened portals for the Heaven-bound first, because if she started with the Hell-cursed, everyone else would panic and scatter, scared they’d be next. And then she would have to hunt them down before they became rabid.

  The last thing they needed in the Veil was more Shades.

  And the last thing Cacy needed tonight was drama. Her shoulder hurt like a bitch, and she wanted to get back to Eli.

  Just to make sure he had cleaned up the rig properly, of course.

  Fortunately, only one of the souls was headed for Hell—the portly driver of the amphibious SUV, who had recklessly plowed into a boat of refugees. Unsurprising.

  One by one, she flipped her Scope and opened a portal to Heaven for each of the souls. Their gasps of pleasure brought a smile to her face. It always made her thin
k of her mother and what she might be doing. Cacy pictured her sitting in a sprawling meadow of flowers, the kind her mother had always had her father import from Siberia, lacy white blossoms with buttery yellow centers.

  When it was her turn, the girl whose body had been thrown against the storefront sat unbroken in front of Cacy, looking nervous.

  Cacy smiled at her. “You’re going to love it there.”

  “Have you been?” the girl asked in a wispy little voice.

  “No. Hopefully someday, though.” Heaven was no guarantee, even for Ferrys.

  The girl bit her lip. “Okay then.” She held still while Cacy lowered the ring of the Scope over her head, letting Heaven swallow her whole. As soon as she was gone, Cacy caught the heavy gold coin that flew out of the Scope’s center.

  “Hey,” called a deep voice behind her. Trevor had come to collect his share of the commission.

  “I’m not quite finished yet,” Cacy said, eyeing the SUV driver, who was looking eagerly at her. She couldn’t tell if it was because he thought he was going to Heaven or if he wanted the gold in her hand. Probably the latter.

  Trevor’s footfalls behind her were nearly silent, but the heat from his body chased away the chill of the Veil and told her he was close. “You got a little beat up,” he commented.

  “No shit.” She didn’t bother to turn around, too busy marshaling her strength for what she had to do next. “Give me a sec.”

  The warmth disappeared as Trevor gave her space. He probably knew from the flat sound of her voice that she wasn’t about to open a window to Heaven.

  “Are you ready, sir?” she asked the driver. She held the Scope behind her back, flipped its Afterlife side—the one engraved with a set of scales—faceup, and ran her thumb over the insignia. She grabbed the edges carefully to keep from getting burned by the intense heat now emanating from its center.