Marked (Servants of Fate Book 1)

by Sarah Fine

  “Eli,” she said softly, kneeling by his head. Brown rivulets of canal water snaked through his blond hair. He blinked furiously; the water was probably burning his eyes. “We have to get you back to the station. Can you stand up?”

  “Cacy, I can call a unit to transport him,” Dec said as he squatted beside them. He discreetly pulled his Scope from his neck, opening it just enough to look at Eli through it. He snapped it shut quickly. “He’s not Marked,” he mouthed.

  But that wouldn’t save him from being desperately ill, from suffering permanent disability or organ damage. It only meant he wouldn’t die.

  Cacy looked into her brother’s eyes, willing him to understand her feelings. She needed to take care of Eli. “It would take at least fifteen for them to get here, and another fifteen to get him to the hospital, where he’ll sit for hours because he’s not critical. But by the time they get to him, he will be. I’m going to take him back to the station.” She tapped her Scope.

  “What are you doing? He’ll be nearly invisible there. If you lose track of him, he’ll be trapped there.” Dec looked at her like she’d lost her mind.

  She laid her palm on Eli’s back. “He’s solid and visible in the Veil, Dec. I don’t know why, but I’ve seen it myself. It’s a long story.”

  Dec’s mouth dropped open for a second. “Regardless of what you and he can do, let’s think about what you should do. You’re not supposed to use it like that,” he whispered. “He might see—”

  “He’s barely conscious, and I don’t really care, anyway.” She glared at Dec. “You think Rylan would sentence me to death over something like this? No way. And I’ll take anything less than that with a smile on my face. Help me get him up.”

  Dec’s face was solemn as he wrapped his arms around Eli’s chest and helped him to his feet. Eli lurched away from him and retched into the canal, sending an icy bolt of panic through Cacy’s gut. She pulled the Scope from the chain around her neck.

  “Not here,” Dec snapped. He turned to the small crowd that had gathered behind them. “Take these three inside and get them cleaned up,” he ordered, waving at Len, Manny, and Gil. “We’ll take care of Eli.”

  As the crowd shuffled back and some of them started to help Len up, Dec and Cacy ducked under Eli’s arms and carried him toward the alley next to Bart’s.

  “I can walk, guys,” mumbled Eli, trying to pull away from them. “I’ll be fine. I’ll just go home and shower.” He lifted his head, winced, and leaned heavily against the brick wall behind him.

  “You can’t,” Cacy said, praying he wasn’t about to fall over. “You’ve probably been infected with half a dozen bacterial diseases. And you obviously have a concussion. You’re coming with me.”

  She brushed her thumb over her Scope, opening a window to the Veil. She looked at Dec. “I’ve got this. He can walk, so I can handle it.”

  “I guess I’ll go manage the fallout.” Dec stalked out of the alley.

  Cacy pulled her Scope wide and stepped up close to Eli. “Hey, I’ve got you. Just stay close to me, all right?”

  “You’re the boss,” he said, lowering his head onto her shoulder. He smelled like a cesspit, but Cacy didn’t care. She lifted the Scope over their heads and lowered it around them, then helped Eli step over its edges. He shivered, soaked and chilled in the frigid air of the Veil.

  “Hang on, baby,” she whispered. She flipped her Scope and focused hard on the locker room of the EMS station, pressing her thumb against the warm metal engraving, willing it to open a window to where she needed to go.

  “Oooh. Pretty.”

  Cacy’s head jerked up from her Scope. She’d recognize that raspy voice anywhere and knew it signaled trouble. Her arm tightened protectively around Eli’s waist. Despite the icy dread oozing down her spine, she smiled confidently as she swiveled her head around, looking for the owner of the voice. “Well, thanks. I love compliments.”

  The voice tsked. “You’re not my type. But he is.” Glowing red eyes stared at Cacy from the depths of the alleyway.

  Eli tried to lift his head but didn’t quite succeed. “Cacy?” he whispered.

  “Shhh. It’s all right.” Cacy backed out of the alley, dragging Eli along with her. He stayed upright, but just barely. She turned toward the alley as the Ker stepped into the open. Cacy’s hand rose to Eli’s neck, and she held his face against her shoulder. “What’s up, Mandy?”

  Spiteful and unnecessarily cruel, Mandy exemplified everything Cacy hated about the Kere. She clicked her lacquered red claws together and cocked her hip as she eyed Cacy and Eli. Her stilettos left little holes in the squelchy cement as she shifted her weight. “Cacy Ferry. Is this a live human? And are you planning to share?”

  Cacy scoffed, working hard to hide her fear. Not for herself. Mandy couldn’t touch her. But Eli . . . what if she was here to Mark him? Could she be persuaded not to? “He smells like a sewer. You want him?” She skimmed a hand down Eli’s soaked shirt and flicked the filthy water toward Mandy, who skipped back with a squeal. “I didn’t think so.”

  Eli shivered and stood up straight, still leaning heavily on Cacy. She twisted around until she was between him and Mandy. Eli flinched. He had probably seen Mandy’s glowing red eyes. Shit.

  Mandy grinned and licked her lips, revealing her glistening fangs. “Hi, gorgeous.” She turned to Cacy. “Oh, hell. I’ll take him, smell and all.”

  “Don’t even think about it,” Cacy snarled, cursing herself silently as Mandy’s eyes widened with interest. Eli’s hand, knuckles bleeding and raw, slid over Cacy’s collarbone. He pulled her back against him, like he was trying to protect her. It made her heart ache.

  Mandy’s eyes glittered with predatory curiosity as she looked them over. After a few seconds, she stuck her bottom lip out. “I have business to attend to, anyway. Places to go, people to Mark. But I’m thinking we need to hang out, Ferry. You keep very interesting company. I’ll see you soon.” She turned in place and was gone.

  Cacy sagged, and so did Eli. He’d probably used the last of his energy to get through that encounter. She turned so she could support him, sinking into the sidewalk under his weight.

  “What was that?” he said into her hair.

  Cacy didn’t answer. Maybe Eli wouldn’t remember this. There was a decent chance—with the hit to the head he’d taken, the postconcussive amnesia might keep him from recalling things that happened in the hours after the injury. On the one hand, she hoped that was the case. On the other, she didn’t want him to be hurt that badly.

  She clutched him against her as she slid her thumb over her Scope again, opened the portal, and yanked it wide, relieved when it revealed the station locker room. Eli leaned against her, his eyes half-shut. She pinched his chest, and he twitched. “Don’t you dare pass out on me.”

  “Hey, be gentle,” he mumbled against her neck, sending a shiver down her spine.

  She peeked through the hoop. Thankfully, the locker room was empty. It was hours into the shift, and the paramedics who weren’t at the bar would all be in the garage or out on a call. Eli sighed as the hoop descended over him and the warmer air of the locker room hit his goose-bumpy skin. He opened his eyes and scanned the room. “How the hell did we get here so fast? Weren’t we just outside the bar?”

  She guided him to sit on a bench and snapped her Scope back to the chain. “I called a taxi,” she explained. “You must have blacked out. I’ll be back in a second, all right?”

  She held her breath while she watched him consider that, then let it out as he lowered his head into his hands. Concussion. Definitely.

  Mentally reviewing all of Eli’s possible injuries, she sprinted to the supply cabinet and grabbed everything she needed. By the time she made it back to him, supplies piled in her arms, Eli was standing up and swaying in place.

  “I want to take a shower,” he said to no one in partic
ular. “I’ll be fine once I get this gunk washed off me.”

  He clumsily stripped off his shirt, revealing his tight, defined torso. Cacy caught her breath. Even covered in canal water and smelling like hell, he looked like a god. Too bad he wasn’t actually immortal. “Eli, I need to treat you, or you’re going to get very sick, very soon.”

  “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” He stumbled away from her, leaning against the wall with his shoulder as he lurched toward the shower room.

  Cacy followed. She couldn’t stop him unless she wanted to hurt him more, which was tempting, but not likely to be good for him in his present state. “Eli. Stop. Slow down. Okay. Stop now.”

  He ignored her, walking unsteadily toward the last stall on the left. He fumbled with the button of his pants as he leaned against the tile wall of the shower room. His fingers couldn’t seem to manage it, though. He raised his head and looked at her, clearly embarrassed. “A little privacy, please?”

  Cacy laughed. “Stop being such a jackass. Do you realize what a crappy patient you are?”

  “You’re not the first person to tell me that,” he said quietly.

  Cacy heaved an exaggerated sigh and set her supplies down on the bench in the shower stall. “You’re driving me crazy.”

  For some reason, Eli seemed to find that really funny, but he stopped laughing and sucked in a sharp breath as she reached for his pants. He caught her wrist. “Um, maybe you shouldn’t—”

  “Eli. You’re drunk and concussed. You just took a bath in toxic canal water. Let me help you, or I’m going to hurt you.” She shoved his hand away and unzipped his jeans, pushing them down his lean hips, trying to ignore the tight feeling low in her belly.

  “I think I’ll keep this layer,” he said, nodding at his boxer briefs. Not that they hid much.

  “For now. Get in there and sit down,” she said breathlessly, trying not to stare.

  Eli sank down onto the bench, and Cacy scooped up the antibiotic eyedrops. She stood between his legs and tilted his head up. “Look at me. Keep your eyes open.”

  He smiled, staring at her with the sweetest expression on his face. “No problem.”

  She stared into his eyes for a moment, relieved to see his pupils were of equal size and reactive to the light. It took a few moments to tear her gaze away.

  She administered the eyedrops and thoroughly swabbed out his ears and nose. He obediently swallowed the concussion-safe extra-strength analgesic she gave him, and then he put his hands on her hips. “Shouldn’t you be getting the same treatment?” he asked. “You got water all over you.”

  She gave him a small smile. “I’m immune to those diseases,” she said gently. Normally, she would have put up a show of taking all the medications herself to keep from raising suspicions, but she was worried about Eli and didn’t want to waste time engaging in a charade. And . . . there was a sneaky little part of her that wanted him to know everything about her.

  He nodded, like he’d expected her to say something like that. While he gargled with the antibiotic rinse, which would kill any remaining bacteria in his mouth, Cacy turned on the shower. “The only thing we have left is the systemic antibiotic.”

  “Oral?” he asked, and Cacy almost giggled at the hopeful note in his voice.

  “I’m afraid not. You need a massive dose, and the only way to do it is through injection.” She held up the capped injector pen.

  He shook his head. “I’ll take my chances. I’ve got a healthy immune system.”

  She touched his face, running her fingers along his cheekbone. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of needles, Sergeant Margolis.”

  He stood up, put his hands on her shoulders, and guided her out of the shower stall. “Can we talk about this sometime when I don’t smell like a sewer?”

  He turned his back to her, facing the showerhead. When the steaming spray hit his face, he moaned. Cacy tucked a bar of antibacterial soap into his hand and took a step back. For a moment, he seemed to forget she was there. He twisted so that the water was on his back, and Cacy stood there, mouth agape. The water streamed over his dark-blond hair, down the planes of his handsome face, and fell in rivers across the hard ridges of muscle on his abs. Cacy locked her knees as the rush of warmth between her legs nearly sent her to the floor.

  “I’ll get a towel,” she squeaked, then spun and headed down the hall, cursing Eli all the way. She grabbed a towel from the rack and walked in a slow, determined stride up the hall.

  She peeked into the shower room to see Eli leaning against the wall, his hands spread against the tile on either side of the showerhead. Lather streamed down his legs and pooled at his feet. The muscles of his back were flexed, like he was trying to hold himself up. Without even thinking about it, she dropped the towel, tucked the capped injector pen in the back pocket of her skirt, and ducked under his arm, soaking herself in the process but not caring at all. She took his face in her hands.

  “Hey,” she said softly, “are you still with me?”

  He squinted, like he was working hard to bring her face into focus. “Just a headache.”

  She threaded her fingers through his hair and found the knot on the back of his head. Both of them winced at the same time. “We can scoot over to the hospital for a scan after we clean you up.”

  “No hospitals.” He leaned his head on her shoulder. “Please. I hate those places. The front door is as far as I go.”

  The pleading in his voice pricked at Cacy’s heart. He’d been willing to walk into the hospital when she’d needed him. For him to be unwilling to go there himself, something must have happened to him. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what. It hurt enough to know that it had, which told her she was in some trouble. She already cared about him too much. Somewhere, deep in the back of her mind, part of her was screaming to back off, to stay professional. But it was easy to ignore right now, with Eli here and needing her.

  She let him lean on her, the warmth of his breath on her neck drawing her nipples tight against the fabric of her tank top. “You can’t stay in here forever.” But I wish we could.

  He groaned. “A few more minutes. It feels so good.” He raised his head and opened his eyes, and it was like he was just fully understanding she was in there with him. “You’re . . . wet.”

  She smiled at the dawning realization in his eyes. “It’s all right. I don’t mind.”

  His gaze dropped to her breasts, which were easily visible through the thin white fabric. “You’re very wet.”

  Watching his gaze go from dazed to hungry gave her an idea. “I am very wet,” she said, and that was true in more ways than one. She lifted her chin so their lips were a few inches apart. “Does that bother you?”

  His laugh was low and rough. “It bothers me quite a lot, actually.” She looked down to see the head of his cock peeking over the waist of his soaked boxer briefs. Oh. She was trying to distract him, but now all she could think about was touching him. With her hands. With her mouth.

  Focus, Cacy.

  “Do you want me to leave?” she asked, moving a little closer. His breath smelled like whiskey and the minty antibacterial mouth rinse.

  “Cacy . . . are you playing with me?” He lowered his head until their noses were almost touching. Water from his hair dripped onto her face.

  She licked her lips and slowly reached forward, touching the tips of her fingers to the head of his shaft. She skimmed over the top slowly, feeling him jerk in response. He let out a breath and wrapped his hand around the back of her neck. The look in his emerald-green eyes set her on fire, but she couldn’t tell if they held anger or desire. Maybe both. His lips parted, and then he pulled her close and kissed her, his lips crashing down on hers with a desperation she could taste. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pressed her against him, allowing her to feel the thick jut of him against her belly.

  She slid her arms ar
ound his neck and ran her tongue along the seam of his lips as her world tilted on its axis. It had been a long time since she’d been with a guy, but even so, it had never felt like this. All the safety of being near Eli was there; it was like the rest of the world took a full step back and fell silent, unable to touch her when he was with her. But there was danger as well. The heat of his smooth skin, the tension coiling in the muscles of his arms and chest, the shaking need she felt as his hands slid under her tank top and up her back. He kept himself under such control, but Cacy could tell there was something wild lurking beneath the surface. She wanted to be the one to bring it out.

  She kissed him deep, relishing the thrust of his tongue against hers. He moaned and backed her up against the wall of the stall, causing the capped injector pen to poke her. Through the mindless desire spiraling within her, the need to feel him as close as possible, it reminded her how she had gotten to this madness in the first place.

  Better get this over with. As healthy as he appeared, Eli was human, and he would be incredibly sick if he didn’t get the heavy dose of antibiotic in her back pocket very soon. As much as she was desperate for him and afraid he might hate her in a minute, it had to be done. It was probably better this way.

  Still kissing him breathless, she pulled out the injector pen. Eli’s hands were busy, one now tangled in her hair, one cupping a breast. He rubbed his thumb over the tight bud of her nipple. She gasped and saw stars behind her closed eyelids. He growled and rocked against her. It sent a hard thrill right through her that his control was starting to break. She wanted it. She wanted him. She wanted to be the one who drove him crazy. But getting involved with him was probably a mistake, and if she let this go on much longer, they would hit the point of no return.

  She ran her free hand down his back, his muscles taut under her touch. Her fingers wiggled beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs and inched them down over his hips. His erection sprang free and rubbed against the bare skin of her belly, making them both moan. Eli’s hand dropped to her thigh, where he started to draw her skirt up. Oh God. The throb between her legs made her tremble. She wanted him to lift her up. She wanted to wrap her legs around his hips. She wanted him inside her.