Fire Marked

by Val St. Crowe

  I laughed too, but it was high-pitched and wild. “Who is it then?”

  He just shook his head. “If you can’t handle this, maybe you should go back home. I can take you to a bus station or something. Wait for me and I’ll be back in a few weeks.”

  “No,” I said. “I’m not leaving you here without me. God knows what you’d do if I wasn’t around.”

  “You were the one who wanted to come on this trip. You said we were a team—”

  “Well, it doesn’t feel like we’re a team. It feels like you’re keeping things from me. Every two seconds, I get blindsided by some other thing you didn’t warn me about.”

  He sighed. “I’m sorry. I guess I… I didn’t think about all of it.”

  “Like the drugs.”

  “No,” he said. “It’s not that big a deal to me.”

  “What is it anyway, the stuff you snorted? DRC?”

  “It’s drake blood and cocaine,” he said.

  “Drake blood?”

  “It’s not taken from dead drakes,” he said. “They offer it up freely in exchange for dice. It’s a trade that the clan’s been making for ages.”

  “That doesn’t make it better,” I said. Drake blood was the only blood besides dragon blood that gave vampires magic when they ingested it. “Because they’re being provided with the flesh of people.”

  He threw his head back and glared at the ceiling. “Is stopping the rogues important to you or not?”

  “You know it is.”

  He got up from the couch and faced me. His eyes were bloodshot. “How important? What are you willing to do to stop it? How far are you willing to go?”

  I withered under the intensity of his stare. I looked down at the floor. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, figure it the fuck out,” he said.

  I bit down on my lip.

  And then it was quiet again.

  This time the silence lasted for long, long minutes.

  Eventually, I turned in the kitchen, opening the refrigerator to look for the cow’s blood we’d brought along. I took out the container and took a long, long draught. Then I screwed the lid back on.

  Lachlan was still in the living room. He was sitting down again, tapping his knee with his thumb.

  “I’m going to bed,” I said.

  “Okay,” he said in a quiet voice. “I’m going to be up a while. I’m not very tired.”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  I headed back to the bedroom and shut myself inside. I thought it would take me a long time to fall asleep, but thanks to being pregnant, I drifted off right away. I was in the second trimester, so I had more energy than I had at the beginning of the pregnancy, but I still needed more sleep.

  At some point later on, I awoke to Lachlan climbing into bed next to me.

  Our arms brushed, and we both recoiled, pulling away from each other.

  We slept on opposite sides of the bed, not touching.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I awoke to the sound of banging.

  It took me a moment to realize that someone was knocking on the door of the trailer.

  Lachlan rolled over and pulled a pillow over his head, groaning.

  I sighed. I got up out of bed, pulled on a robe, and headed to the front door. I opened it.

  A man was standing there. He looked just like the rest of the guys in the Bryant clan. Long dark hair, a beard. He was wearing corduroys and a beige linen shirt. “Where’s Hawk?” he said.

  “Asleep,” I said.

  “Wake him up,” said the man, pushing by me as he climbed up into the trailer.

  I huffed. “Won’t you come in,” I muttered.

  He went into the living room and sat down, making himself at home.

  I surveyed him for several seconds. Then, not knowing what else to do, I went back to the bedroom and sat down on the bed next to Lachlan’s sleeping form. Gingerly, I touched him.

  He didn’t even stir.

  I shook him. “Wake up,” I said in a quiet voice.

  He groaned, trying to push me off. “Just a few more minutes.”

  “There’s some man here. He’s in the living room.”

  Lachlan opened his eyes. “You let him in?”

  “Well, he let himself in.”

  Lachlan made a face, sitting up. “We weren’t supposed to let them inside here, remember?”

  “How was I supposed to stop him?” I glared at him.

  Lachlan closed his eyes. He clutched his forehead. Then he lurched up out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen. He stopped at the refrigerator to pick up some blood. He stood with the door open and drank the entire container. Then he put it back in the refrigerator empty. He turned to the man in our living room. “Phelan,” he said in recognition.

  The man—Phelan, apparently—got up from the couch. He sneered. “You got a lot of nerve, Hawk.”

  “What?” Lachlan gave Phelan his casual, easygoing smile. “Look, is this really something we have to talk about first thing in the morning?”

  “You sent my granddaughter back home in tears last night.”

  Granddaughter? What? Guy didn’t look old enough to have a grown child, let alone a grandchild.

  Lachlan looked confused too. “I wasn’t aware you had, er, grandchildren. I promise you, I didn’t speak to anyone last night besides Jackal and Presley here.” He nodded at me. “Well, and Iona.”

  “There you go,” said Phelan. “What’d you say to her?”

  “Iona is your granddaughter?” Lachlan furrowed his brow. “Really?”

  “Really.” Phelan advanced on Lachlan. “I’m older than you think I am, Hawk. I’m an original member of this clan. When I was turned, I already had a family. Sons and daughters who had children who had children and so on. I guess technically, Iona is my great-great granddaughter or some such. At any rate, she’s my blood and I don’t like seeing her so upset. When I talked to her about what happened, she blamed you.” By this point, there was only a foot of space between Lachlan and Phelan.

  Lachlan took a deep breath. “Well, I’m sorry she was upset, but I don’t know what you want me to do about it.”

  Phelan let out a sound that was something like a growl. “That’s so like you, you piece of shit.”

  Lachlan’s eyebrows shot up. “I realize you’re angry, but—”

  “I was against it when Jackal proposed we let you back into the clan, even if it was only going to be for a short time. I told anyone who would listen that you were bad news. I still think that back some years ago, you sold us out to the Midnight Riders.”

  “I swear to you that I didn’t—”

  “You’re no good,” said Phelan. “And I don’t want you here. But if I can’t get Ossian to listen to reason, then I’ll just have to use other means to get rid of you.”

  “Other means?”

  “I’m issuing a challenge.”

  Lachlan’s jaw dropped.

  “That’s right, I challenge you. Tonight. Sundown.”

  “On what grounds?” said Lachlan.

  “On the grounds that you sullied my granddaughter’s honor.”

  “Oh, please, Phelan. I never—”

  “If that don’t work, I’ll think up something else.” Phelan leaned close. “You gonna face me? Or are you gonna run?”

  Lachlan glared at him. “Sundown. Tonight.”

  “Good. Choose the weapons.”

  “No weapons,” said Lachlan. “Magic. Fists. Fangs.”

  Phelan nodded at him once, and then he swept out of the trailer.

  I grabbed onto the wall for balance. “What the hell just happened?”

  “It’s nothing,” said Lachlan. “He’s just being an ass. Don’t worry about it.”

  “What’s a challenge?”

  “He wants to fight me,” said Lachlan, rubbing his forehead. “It’s archaic, but it’s a thing they do here. It’s the way they settle disputes. Anyone can do it to anyone. You have to say yes, or you have to leave.”

 
; “Are you kidding me? You have to fight him?”

  “No, it won’t come to that. I’ll talk to Jackal. He’ll talk him down. Don’t worry.”

  I was worried. “What happens if he beats you?”

  “Well, then this is going to have been a real short trip.”

  I chewed on my thumbnail. “Maybe we should leave.”

  “No,” said Lachlan. “It’ll blow over. Don’t think about it. But, um, maybe you should go grocery shopping on your own this morning?”

  * * *

  “Hey there!” said a woman in a pair of patterned harem pants and a black crop top. “Your old man letting you take that truck?”

  “Um, I’m just going to get some groceries,” I said. I was standing outside the truck with the keys in my hand. Lachlan had disappeared a half hour ago, looking for Jackal.

  Harem Pants was walking with a woman in jeans and a peasant top. “Mind company?” said Peasant Top.

  “Mine won’t let me drive our truck,” said Harem Pants.

  “And I don’t fancy driving the whole RV out to get groceries,” said Peasant Top.

  “We’ll chip in for gas,” said Harem Pants.

  “Uh, sure,” I said. “That’s fine.”

  “Great,” said Peasant Top. “You’re Presley, right? I’m Selah, and this is Daphne.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said, offering them my hand.

  We all shook.

  “Well, um,” I said, gesturing to the car, “you want to get in?”

  “Sure thing,” said Selah, going around to the passenger side.

  Daphne hopped in the back seat.

  I climbed up into the driver’s seat. Truthfully, I was a little nervous about driving this thing. I hadn’t done it before. It was an automatic, thank goodness, or I would have been out of luck. But I’d never driven anything so large before. Even just sitting down and looking out, I was struck by how high off the ground we were. I’d been sitting in it as a passenger, but in the driver’s seat, it seemed so much higher. I took a deep breath and started the car.

  No one spoke while I navigated the truck out of its parking space, as if they could see that I needed to concentrate.

  But once we were rattling up the road out of the campground, Daphne spoke up from the backseat. “Hey, that true about Phelan and Hawk? Did he really issue a challenge?”

  “Um, yeah, I guess so,” I said. “I don’t really think I understand what that means, though.”

  “It’s just men having a pissing contest,” said Selah from beside me. “I don’t think Phelan has a leg to stand on. Ossian will shut the whole thing down. Won’t even happen.”

  “You don’t think so?” said Daphne.

  “I don’t,” said Selah.

  “Phelan’s an original member, though,” said Daphne.

  “Yeah, but Ossian thinks he shoots off his mouth too much,” said Selah.

  Daphne leaned forward. “How do you know what Ossian thinks?”

  Selah shrugged. “I pick stuff up. I pay attention.”

  Daphne handed up a metal flask. “Want some?”

  Selah took the flask and took a drink. She handed it to me.

  “Uh, I’m driving,” I said.

  “No, it’s just chicken blood,” said Selah.

  “Oh,” I said, taking the flask and taking a drink. “Thanks.” I handed it back to Daphne.

  “No problem,” she said. “If Ossian doesn’t shut it down, though, what are you going to do?”

  “Do?” I said.

  “If it was my man,” said Daphne, “I’d conk him over the head and take him out of there. He might be pissed, but he’d be alive, you know what I mean?”

  “Alive?” I said.

  “Yeah,” said Daphne.

  Archaic, huh? I swallowed. “This, um, challenge? It’s not to the death, is it?”

  “Oh yeah,” said Daphne.

  I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. What the hell was wrong with Lachlan?

  * * *

  “So, did you get this challenge thing shut down?” I said the minute Lachlan walked back through the door.

  “How was the grocery store?” he said.

  “It was great. What did Jackal say?”

  Lachlan sighed. “Phelan’s pretty mad. He’s not backing down. He’s out for blood.”

  “So, it’s going to happen then? Sundown? A fight to the death?”

  Lachlan scratched the back of his head. “I don’t know.”

  “We need to get out of here,” I said. “This place is crazy. What the hell do we think we’re doing? Felicity and Connor were right. This is all a very bad idea.”

  He rubbed his chin. “I don’t know if we should go.”

  “A man wants to kill you,” I said. “And you don’t know if we should go? Have you been taking more drugs?”

  He sighed. “I know I sound a little nuts, but… it’s just that I’m pretty sure I can take him. With your blood, I’d have more powerful magic than he could possibly have, and he’s going to be emotional, and that’s going to make him sloppy, and—”

  “So, you’d kill a man? Just up and kill him? Really?”

  He nodded. “I would.”

  I was incredulous. “What?”

  Lachlan stepped closer to me. He gazed into my eyes. “If it stopped these rogue attacks and made you safe and the baby safe, I would kill ten men.”

  I swallowed. The intensity of his words made something ancient and primeval inside me clench. I reached up and put shaking hands on his shoulders. My voice was barely there. “But what if something happens to you?”

  He reached out and cupped my cheek. “It won’t.”

  “You don’t know that.” I put my hand over his hand.

  “I’m not going to let that asshole kill me.”

  “We can find another way to stop the rogues,” I whispered.

  “How long will that take?” he said. “No, we can’t get to this mage any other way, and he is powerful. He can help us. We need to do this.”

  “I don’t like it,” I said softly. “I don’t like any of this.”

  “I know.” He rested his forehead against mine. “Just know that I would do anything for you. I adore you, Penny Caspian. Whatever you’re angry about, whatever doubts you have, never doubt that.”

  I swallowed. I kissed him. “Lachlan…”

  He pulled my body tight against his. “Trust me. Let me do this.”

  “I adore you too,” I murmured. And I clung to him.

  * * *

  The sun was sinking in the horizon, and everyone in the Bryant clan had gathered on the other side of the woods, which opened up onto a big lake. Apparently, during the summer months, this lake was full of campers swimming and boating and things like that. But now, in the early fall evening, it sat empty and reflecting back the reds and oranges of the sunset.

  The air was warm, with just a tiny nip of chill to it when the breeze blew.

  Lachlan and Phelan stood facing each other in front of the lake, both wearing ratty jeans and nothing else.

  I focused on Lachlan, on his handsome face and his sculpted torso. He looked beautiful. He was the best thing that had ever happened to me. How had I let him talk me into letting this happen?

  I couldn’t lose him. He couldn’t die.

  No, if things went south for him, I would intervene. I didn’t care what happened. There was a lake here. If necessary, I’d shift into a dragon and burn them all to ash and fly away with Lachlan in my talons. I was not going to let him die, no matter what.

  He couldn’t expect anything less of me.

  But…

  I shifted my gaze to Phelan.

  Lachlan was right. He was stronger and more skilled than Phelan. It was easy to see in the differences between their stances. Lachlan looked alert and ready. His face was set and grim but controlled. Phelan radiated rage, and he was already breathing hard and clenching and unclenching his fists. He was the opposite of control. He was chaos.

  Ossian
stepped in between them and addressed the gathered crowd. “A challenge has been issued by Phelan Bryant against Lonan ‘Hawk’ Turner. In accordance with our ways, this is a formal challenge to the death between two equals. Such challenges are not to be taken lightly, and only to be used for the severest of grievances, which Phelan claims he and his family have received. If the Fates are with him, he will be victorious.”

  The breeze picked up, fluttering my hair away from my face and plastering my shirt against my belly. I tugged at my shirt, anxious that someone would see the rounded shape of it. But everyone was staring at Lachlan and Phelan.

  Ossian looked at Phelan. “You do issue this challenge, sir? I am required to remind you that the price of failure is death.”

  “I do,” said Phelan, seething.

  Ossian turned to Lachlan. “And you do accept, sir? It is permitted that you may leave at this time, if you find you have no stomach for such things. But if you go, you will never be permitted to talk with or eat with or gather with any member of the Bryant clan.”

  “I accept the challenge,” said Lachlan.

  “Then may the best man win.” Ossian stepped out of their way.

  The two men circled each other, taking each other’s measure. Phelan was dark and bearded, his arms and chest covered in dark hair. He was taller than Lachlan. But Lachlan was broader. His skin was lighter, his chin clean-shaven. They were like opposites circling each other.

  Phelan roared in anger, running full speed at Lachlan.

  Lachlan sidestepped.

  Phelan surged passed him.

  A tittering moved through the crowd.

  Phelan clenched his hands into fists.

  Lachlan threw out his hands and sent magic through the air at Phelan.

  The taller man was picked up and hurled into the air, about ten feet up. He slammed into a tree trunk, letting out a grunt. His arms flailed.

  And then Lachlan was being forced into the ground face first, magic holding him down. Lachlan struggled against it, breaking the magical hold, but his own magic was lost in the process.

  Phelan fell down from the tree trunk, hitting the ground hard on his knees. He let out a hoarse cry.

  Lachlan got to his feet, taking long, slow breaths. His face was an expressionless mask.

  Phelan was in a fury, however, pushing himself to his feet and swearing under his breath. He dove at Lachlan.