Of A Darker Nature

by Clay, Michelle

  “Amazing.”

  Still groggy and a bit sore from the night before, Emily glanced at the wall clock. It was ten in the morning, and she found it difficult to stay awake.

  She needed more coffee right away. There was a viewing at noon. After the family finished, she would do some touch ups to the deceased for the funeral tomorrow. Add the other two bodies, both of which had passed of natural causes, it was going to be a full day.

  Wren’s head poked through the chapel door and spied her in the hallway. “Brenda’s on the phone.”

  Emily raced into the parlor and snatched the phone off the desk.

  “Hey, kiddo, what’s the latest?” Brenda was pretty chipper for such an early hour.

  A mixture of emotions swept Emily away. She was elated her friend had called but also angered. She shouldn't have called Liz to tattle on her.

  “How’s Florida?”

  “Pretty good, thanks.” Brenda sounded like she was in good spirits. “So, have you had any more trouble with Starr or the vampires? Are you safe?”

  Emily propped her feet up on the desk and got comfortable. “Now that I’ve got a personal bodyguard, no one’s been around. He’s even got someone watching during the day.”

  “I’d feel pretty claustrophobic.” Brenda laughed. “It sounds like you’re being taken care of though. That’s good.”

  “I wish you hadn't called Liz. She's not too pleased about my house guest.” Emily couldn’t help thinking about what had happened last night. She’d been vulnerable and had used him for all the wrong reasons. At the time though, it had felt oh so right.

  Brenda sighed. “How does Scott feel about your vampire?”

  Emily laughed though she was a little worried. “Well, I haven’t exactly asked him. Plus, I think he’d rather not talk about it. I think he’s avoiding me.”

  There was interest in Brenda’s voice. “Why do you say that?”

  “He’s hardly ever around. When he is, he's busy, and we don't talk.”

  “Sounds like he’s jealous. He's always had a thing for you, you know?” Brenda chuckled. “It's got to be eating him up inside that a new man is in your life.”

  Emily sighed, wishing she could tell her friend everything she’d learned about her boss. She was already treading on eggshells. There was no reason to give him more reason to be angry with her. “I guess I’d better not tell him about the accidental reading I did last night while preparing a body. I totally broke down on Marcus, and he helped me forget for a while.”

  There was a surprised gasp on the other end of the line. “Oh Christ, Emily, you let him... Please tell me you didn’t.”

  “He didn’t do anything I didn’t want him to do! I totally took advantage of him.”

  Brenda groaned in exasperation. “Don’t forget they’re the bad guys.”

  Irritation crept over Emily. Why she put up with her friend’s prejudices was beyond her. “I don’t need this from you, Brenda. I’m just trying to make the best out of a bad situation. The master of the city hired me to read him without him knowing. I have to figure out a way to get on his good side and make him trust me. It just kind of happened. And I’m not ashamed to say it was nice.”

  “Nice?”

  “Oh my god, so much better than nice.” Heat swirled low in her belly at the memory of him inside her. He’d reawakened a part of her that had lain dormant for too long.

  “Just don’t let him get the wrong impression,” Brenda cut her off. “I’m only saying this out of concern. I’ve seen several of those enforcers in the bar. If Marcus is the one I’m thinking of, you’re in way over your head. He’s a player, sweetie. He’ll work you over, twist you around his fingers. Then he’ll just walk away and leave you in a broken heap.”

  “No,” Emily said in a quiet, unsure voice. “You’re probably confusing him with Corey.”

  Brenda’s throaty laugh blasted through the phone. “No honey, not the kid with all the piercings. He’s cute, but I’m talking about the dark haired guy with the wings on his back. He’s the quiet, brooding type. You have to watch out for that one.”

  A jolt of trepidation shot through Emily. “What do you mean?”

  Her friend laughed again. “He’s a dangerous predator. I hate to sound like a broken record, but you need to get the guy off your property. Having a vampire around, especially that one, is just begging for trouble.”

  Emily wished it was that simple. “Yeah, I know what you mean. He almost attacked me the night before last.”

  “See! That’s what I mean! You can’t trust them. To be fair, I’m not just singling out the nosferatu. That includes the shifters and everything else unnatural.”

  “But he didn’t! He got control of himself. Marcus isn’t a monster. Some of them might be, but he isn’t. You’ve got him all wrong, Brenda.” Needing a change in subject, she switched gears. “And I’m in deep crap, Brenda. Mistress expects me to read him, and I don’t see how I can do that without getting closer.”

  “Must not have been that difficult if you slept with him.”

  Emily’s cheeks heated, and the sudden sting of tears overwhelmed her. “I think I’m falling for him, Brenda. I don’t know what to do.”

  “That’s not good. I don’t suppose you could ask the mistress to let you out of the deal, huh?”

  “She threatened to hurt Liz.” Emily frowned, remembering how quickly Isabella seemed to lose her temper. “I hoped to do a reading this morning, but he was still awake. Did you know they can stay awake past sunrise?”

  “Good to know,” Brenda muttered. “Listen, Marcus comes into the bar, does whatever business he needs to and leaves with a different woman just about every time I see him. I hear he’s a fine catch, but no one can keep him on their hook. He comes in to find someone and never leaves without them if you get my point. Just be careful, okay?”

  “Hey, is there any chance you’ll be home soon?” Emily asked. Maybe if she had a distraction, she’d think about something other than Marcus.

  Brenda was quiet for several moments. In the background, a door thumped closed followed by the sound of running water. “You and I both know there’s little chance of that happening. I’m fine where I am, thanks.”

  “We found Bill.”

  “Did he say why he gave you the property?”

  Emily couldn’t help wondering why it kept coming back to that.

  “He’s dead.” Bile rose in her throat just thinking about the old man’s bloated, waterlogged face. “Marcus and I found him stuffed under the RV. It looked like his throat was torn out.”

  “By a vampire?” There was a distinctive tone of accusation in her voice.

  Emily groaned. “I see where you’re going with this, but you’re wrong. I read Bill, Brenda. The blond vampire who attacked us did it that same night.”

  Brenda harrumphed and didn’t sound the least bit surprised. “So what’d you guys do with his body?”

  Emily bit her lower lip. “I’m not sure. I think Marcus had his people clean up. The RV isn’t there anymore, and I haven’t had an opportunity to ask about the details.”

  “I’m sure he just swept it under the rug.”

  “I’ll have to ask him about it.”

  Brenda seemed hesitant to ask the next question. “What did you see when you read him?”

  Emily swung her legs down and shifted in the chair. “Not a whole lot. Trent attacked him, and I caught glimpses of things that happened prior to that. I think he charmed the deed. He chanted a spell over it. He said something about protection lying within only one and in death it would be undone. Weird, huh?”

  “Yeah, that’s weird. Did you find out where the ley line is?”

  “No, why?”

  Brenda seemed distracted all of the sudden. She changed the subject to the weather. Her version sounded like she read it right off the television. The conversation fizzled after that.

  Emily found Scott leaning against the wall behind her after she hung up. At least he had a
steaming mug of fragrant coffee in each hand. She followed him to his office and accepted the caffeinated beverage.

  “I’m not avoiding you.” He settled behind his desk. “And I just want you to know that what you’re doing is dangerous. And stupid. That’s all I’m going to say about your current living arrangements.”

  Emily tossed a wadded piece of paper into the wastebasket and frowned. “So now you’re listening in on my conversations?”

  “You were in the foyer. How could I not hear you? I’m sure Wren did too. Besides, Liz called last night and practically begged me to talk some sense into you. It seems she's a believer in all things scary now.”

  Emily lifted a shoulder to indicate she couldn’t care less. “It’s not against the law to be with a vampire.”

  Scott grimaced. “You said that like you meant…”

  It was her turn to make a face. “You know what I meant.”

  “I heard you tell Brenda about your agreement with the mistress of the city. Is there any way to get out of it?”

  Emily didn’t quite meet his eyes. “I’m afraid not. Not without putting Liz in danger. Mistress Isabella is a person who won’t take no for an answer.”

  He frowned. “What kind of information does she want?”

  “She’s sent Marcus on a fool’s errand. He’s there to protect me, but she’s sent him so I can read him.”

  “He doesn’t know?” Scott sat back and studied her. “There will be hell to pay if he finds out, mark my words. It would be in your best interest to either come clean or call a stop to it.”

  “I can’t do that. Mistress Isabella won’t take a refusal. Marcus doesn’t strike me as the type that would allow me to read him and report back to her. Either way, I’m screwed. And poor Liz has been threatened by both Starr's people and Isabella. I don't know how to protect her.”

  “One vampire or several, it doesn’t matter. The outcome will be the same.”

  He was right. Someone would get hurt, and she doubted very much that it would be either of the vampires. “She threatened my sister. I have to do what Isabella wants. Liz is all I have left.”

  Eager to change the subject, Emily leaned forward and searched his eyes. “What happened in here after Beau and I left? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

  “No, of course not. I was angry that he attacked you and I might have overreacted, but we’ve reached an agreement.” Scott shifted his gaze downward. “I never wanted you to see me like that.”

  The idea of a shaky contract between them worried her. “What kind of an agreement?”

  He rolled his shoulders. “The kind that forces me to play advocate and talk to the shifters and weres about helping the vampires bring Starr Carter down. The pack leader, Degas, already knows Marcus. So it shouldn’t be that big of a problem.”

  “All these meetings and appointments you’ve been going to… They aren’t dealing with funerary issues are they?”

  “No, I’m afraid not.” The phone rang, and drew his attention away.

  Emily returned to the workroom to prepare the bodies and be alone with her thoughts.

  ***

  “Marcus? Are you awake?” Emily pushed the guest bedroom door open just a crack. The sun hung high in the sky, and she didn’t think he could be awake.

  She quietly entered the spare room. The single bulb in the hallway cast a yellow glow across the end of the bed and the outline of his body beneath the sheet.

  She shivered, but was unsure if it was from the newly fixed air conditioner or the idea of what she was about to do. It felt wrong.

  Sure, she sometimes read dead people, but they were lifeless and would stay that way. Marcus, on the other hand, was alive at least part of the time and hadn’t given his consent. This felt akin to a violation so intimate, it smacked of immorality.

  His laptop sat half open on the nightstand. She didn’t dare open it further, lest he know she’d been inside the room. She bent to get a look at the screen. The screensaver showed an endless loop of a blood-orange sunrise peeking over a mountaintop.

  Marcus slept on his stomach, his face turned away from her. She eased onto the bed next to him. Placing a hand on his hip, she leaned across to steal a glance at his face. She whispered his name, but received no response.

  He’s asleep, she told herself. He won’t bite. Confident he would not wake, she traced the curve of his jaw with a careful fingertip. His cool skin was fragrant from the shower he’d taken earlier. She stroked fingers through his hair and smoothed it off his face. Long, dark lashes lay against his pale cheeks. She ran her hand down his back, tracing her fingertips along the indention of his spine.

  A sense of melancholy dread settled within her. After this was all over, her gorgeous vampire would leave. He’d return to Isabella’s side and never give her a second thought. He wasn’t really hers, but that knowledge didn’t lessen the devastation it would cause. In the short time she’d known him, she had somehow allowed herself to care about him.

  Finally, she rested her fingertips on his left shoulder and relaxed. Memories on the surface of his subconscious leapt into her mind, eager to be shared. She had no idea what to look for, no focusing point. Instead of seeing any one thing, hundreds of recollections bombarded her at once. She clamped her mouth shut and struggled to remain silent as they overtook her.

  ***

  Marcus was a handsome young man of seventeen when Isabella first took notice of him. His family was poor and his parents were eager to find a better life for their three children. The winter his younger sister fell ill, he and his older brother took a job at the widow’s mansion. She’d agreed to hire him as a stable boy and his brother did odd jobs around the house. That spring, his sister died of tuberculosis, followed by his mother. The father, having little use for the boys now they were grown, took what money remained and disappeared. Rumor was he’d died in a rum soaked bar fight just outside of town a few years later.

  Because Marcus continued to move into better jobs, his brother grew spiteful. It wasn’t long until he left in search of more gainful employment.

  Marcus was a hard worker, earning the praise of the widow and gaining more responsibility. His job title continued to change as quickly as the seasons. On the eve of his eighteenth birthday, Isabella sent Trenton, her steward, to fetch him. Marcus moved into the mansion at once. He’d been excited, eager to please his beautiful benefactor.

  He did spend more time with the mistress of the house, but their time was mostly squandered in the bedroom. Behind closed doors, he learned of her dark nature. She thrived on sex and brutality. Marcus was ravaged nightly, giving his mistress both his body and blood.

  Trent, her steward, hated the boy for petty reasons. Marcus looked better and Isabella favored his sexual favors over Trent's. She'd begun to spend more time with Marcus and resentment reared its ugly head.

  Trent took great pleasure in beating Marcus for the littlest things. As a human, he could do little to protect himself against the savage monster. Trent fed upon the boy as well, leaving him too weak to do much more than wish he could die. At times, Trent did other, more physically demanding, degrading things to him in his weakened state.

  At twenty-one, Marcus orchestrated an escape. He took three others with him. Once they were caught, Isabella ordered the others killed while he watched. Marcus was severely beaten for his troubles. He was twenty-six the second time he ran. This time it took Trent a little over a month to find him. He chased Marcus on horseback. The blond had laughed as the horse thundered at his back. After Trent had brought a broken and exhausted Marcus home, he’d had him strung up and flogged. Marcus almost died.

  Isabella whispered vehement threats and leaned close, her teeth only inches from the open, infected wounds. “Why do you keep running from me, my pet?”

  “I would rather die than continue to feed you,” he'd answered.

  Isabella laughed like a lunatic. “Careful what you wish for, my love.”

  Much later, after he was well
enough, she sent for a local artisan.

  Marcus was tied face down to a bed while Trent hovered nearby. Mistress led the artist into the already prepared room and instructed him on what she wanted done. Trent took great pleasure in gathering a handful of Marcus’s beautiful shoulder length hair. He sawed it off with a dull kitchen knife. Laughing, he stuffed it into the captive's mouth.

  The artist spent painstaking hours pricking Marcus’s skin and applying the ink by hand. Marcus tried not to cry out, refused to let them take joy in his pain. Eventually, the torture became too much to bear and he screamed himself hoarse. It took several days to finish because Marcus became violently ill and reacted to the ink.

  Isabella laughed, waving away the artist’s worry. “Continue your work. I am going to put him to death after you finish.”

  She fed him well and nursed him back to health, yet never released him from the binds. It was hot, humid and miserable as he lay helpless against fresh sheets. All he could do was imagine what she had in store for him. Isabella returned the following night, wearing her favorite negligee and a dangerous smile.

  She stared down at Marcus’s naked body, and a wistful smile lit her face. “You are like a little bird, always bashing itself against the cage, always awaiting the opportunity to fly away. I will never allow you the chance to unfurl your wings. You are mine. I shall keep you always.”

  Without apology or explanation, she bit into his inner thigh. His back arched, and his mouth fell open in a scream.

  ***

  Emily jerked away then fell off the bed in the process. Her stomach knotted, leaving the sour taste of bile at the back of her throat. She took several deep breaths in an effort to keep from heaving on the floor. She'd felt everything and, in some strange way, it made her feel closer to him.

  Nightfall was close at hand. It wouldn’t do for Marcus to wake and find her hovering nearby.

  She went into the kitchen, thinking it best to go about her normal activities. Although she wasn’t hungry, she opened the refrigerator and peered inside. Nothing appealed to her.