Marked: A Two Halves Novella

by Marta Szemik

  Belatedly, I realized Aseret’s fire never hit me. I turned in time to see my sister shake dirt off her clothes. It appeared she had sped toward the demon lord, slamming into him and redirecting his blow toward the hole to the hereafter.

  Xelay lay motionless. My left wrist burned. I killed her. I killed Xela. I looked in despair toward my wrist, expecting to see the glowing sphere.

  A hush fell over the hall. My gaze flew up to the seekers, demons, even the keepers, who all stood still. I thought they were concentrating on my wrist, as I was, but they weren’t. I looked up, their attention was on the open crevice. White spirits flowed freely through it to hover over the seekers. Their see-through white shadows vibrated with chaos and confusion. The hereafter had been opened.

  “They’re trying to locate their bodies,” Eric said.

  “It hurts.” Mira gasped and fell to her knees. Her eyes closed, clutching her wrist.

  I had done it. I’d decided our fate. One stupid mistake had tied us to the underworld.

  The inferno-like agony suddenly turned to ice, and the pain eased. I let go of my wrist, expecting an orange glow. Instead, I saw three wavy blue lines. The water mark.

  “But . . . how?” I gaped.

  Aseret shouted “No!” cutting into my confusion.

  The continuous stream from the blue spheres Eric held in his outstretched hands wrapped around Aseret’s body. It wound downward to connect his feet to the stone beneath him. Eric stopped, looking toward the keepers. They nodded, then disappeared into a vortex, leaving behind only swirling dust.

  I didn’t get a chance to stand before the room spun. The gray stone whirled together with the orange glow from the seekers’ eyes and turned to green. When it stopped, I found myself at the hill with my sister and the evil-bender who had just changed our lives forever.

  * * *

  “Did I kill her?” I asked after promising Ma we’d eat goulash before discussing any new business. The food was good, but I had no heart to tell her Xela’s was much better. Or perhaps it was her company that made the food scrumptious.

  “No, she’s alive,” Eric answered. He kept his distance from my sister.

  My confusion was mirrored on her face. She’d looked that way since this morning.

  “How did we get the mark?” I asked.

  “You sacrificed your life for hers.” Eric rubbed his neck where the fleshed spikes sunk in.

  I gaped at him. “That’s all it took?”

  “It’s not ‘that’s all,’ Xander. We talk about sacrifice all the time, but few would give up their lives for someone else.”

  “But my Xela is gone.” I slumped in the chair, eyes on the kitchen table.

  The pain of knowing my soul remained with Xela lingered. Her lost spirit was trapped in a foreign body. The thought that I couldn’t save her crawled beneath my skin; aching I could never let go. My black witch lived in a body I could not have. Not for another twenty years, perhaps longer.

  Eric lowered his head. “I’m sorry. We had no idea Aseret’s powers had grown so much. It will take more than me or the keepers to keep him bound.”

  I looked up at him. “Is Aseret bound?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why are you so glum, lover boy?” I forced a laugh, hoping to trigger a dirty look, at least. I glimpsed Mira’s thankful eyes. She was just as curious about Eric’s sudden change in behavior.

  “Aseret’s bound, but he’s done damage that will take years to fix.”

  “The hereafter?” Mira asked.

  “Yes. And it’s my responsibility to take care of it.”

  “It’s my fault the hereafter has been opened,” she said, reminding me of the push that changed the trajectory of his magical attack, saving me.

  “You did what you had to,” Eric’s voice almost cooled the entire room.

  “I’ll go with you. We both will. We’ll help you,” she said firmly.

  “You can’t. It’s not your calling.”

  “But we’re watchers of the dead, aren’t we?” Desperation crept into my sister’s voice.

  “The future has been changed.”

  Somehow I knew exactly what he meant. There was a job I had to do, but I didn’t know what it was yet.

  “You have a responsibility now.” He reached out and touched our wrists, where the blue glow had faded to what looked like black tattoos.

  He was right. There was a new instinct inside of me that I recognized, though I’d never felt it before. Was this due to the mark? Was this what it felt like not to be stuck in endless oblivion?

  “Do you know what it is?” I asked.

  “It will be revealed to you soon,” he answered, looking at Mira as if he were saying goodbye.

  My ears perked up as I heard a rustle in the forest outside the hill.

  “What does it mean for us?” My sister cocked her head to the side. I assumed she concentrated on the swooshing through the higher grass, ten miles to the west.

  “It means my calling to fix the hereafter is now my priority, sugar.” He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.

  “And once you fix things, you’ll be back?” she asked, her eyes mellowed, straining to keep her focus on Eric.

  “I won’t make promises that can’t be kept.” He sighed. “Sugar, I’m not sure I will be able to close the hereafter.”

  “So, you’re gone forever? I’ll never see you again?”

  “Never say never, sugar.”

  “Can’t I be with you while you answer your calling?” she pleaded, holding back tears.

  She wouldn’t let them flow in front of Eric. My sister wouldn’t show despair until after he’d left. But she knew the evil-bender was right. Another job waited for her, just as it did for me. I sensed her heightened alertness as she also listened to the forest outside.

  “Will I see you again?” she asked.

  “I’m not a fortune teller, sugar.” He came close, wrapping his arms around her waist. That’s exactly what Mira wanted, but the sound of wind cutting through the forest at unnatural speeds distracted her, the same way it alerted me.

  Eric laughed. “See what I mean? You have a calling now, too. The feeling will get stronger.” He smoothed his finger over the three wavy lines on her wrist.

  “I’ll wait for you,” she said.

  My ears perked up again as my gaze slid from the couple toward the door.

  “I know.” Eric smiled. “Go. You have work to do.” He kissed her on her nose. She closed her eyes. A gust of wind blew through the room and when she opened her eyes, Eric was gone, whirled away in the vortex.

  We locked eyes.

  “Let’s go!” I urged, knowing exactly what to do. Eric was right. With the mark on our wrists to guide us, we understood our mission without having any details. At this moment, someone sped through the forest toward the hill, and we had to find out who it was.

  He headed our way. We caught up to the creature and ran parallel to his sprint. Mira on one side, me on the other, concealed by the dark forest as the afterglow of the setting sun skimmed the treetops. The wind wrapped around me and caressed my body, easing the pain of losing Xela.

  I was in my natural state, a shape-shifter—a demon, a human, and a watcher.

  I knew exactly who I was.

  I was marked .

  ###

  Sneak Peak at Book Two in the Series

  Two Halves

  Prologue

  Hundreds of miles—that’s how far he ran each day. His feet should have been blistered, but they weren’t. He should have been out of breath, but he didn’t need to breathe. Exhaustion had set in years ago, but not from the running.

  Where should I run next? What would be the best way to mislead the seekers?

  Ekim imagined a map in his head of where he’d been. Black marked the roads he’d passed; red for those he needed to avoid; green for ones he could still use. The mental strain to keep the drawings organized exhausted him.

  But running was his pri
ority, the only constant in his life, and would be for a long time.

  Almost twelve months had passed since Ekim’s wife Saraphine died, since Sarah was born. He longed to see his daughter but didn’t dare risk it.

  Zigzagging across America, he retreated from the demons who concentrated their groups in the south. The seekers would think he returned to his kind and stop the chase—or so he hoped.

  Ekim has been a cold-blooded vampire since 1823, but with his judgment clear he was newly compassionate. Only when protecting his family did the ferocity and the viciousness come to the fore, necessary to preserve the human and vampire species.

  He couldn’t slow down. Sarah was turning one in a week. Seekers were still looking for her and William, Atram’s one-year-old son. The decision to move Sarah to Pinedale was difficult, but he knew it was the right choice. Her aunt Helen would take care of her. She’d continue mixing the serums that kept Sarah hidden.

  Atram, Ekim’s best friend since the day they’d been turned, sent a telegram to the most northerly post office in each state once a month. Ekim stepped outside the building and pulled the paper from its envelope.

  EVERYONE’S WELL. KIDS GETTING ALONG. HEART CONDITION GETTING WORSE. THEY’RE LEAVING IN TWO WEEKS.

  Sarah and William couldn’t get too close to each other. The children’s heartbeats quickened uncontrollably when they laughed, turning the giggles into cries of pain. Thin veins appeared on their innocent, chubby faces. The electric shock between them when they touched was as quick and unpredictable as snapped fingers. They needed each other to fulfill their destiny, yet they couldn’t be together.

  How will they do it? How will they ever save both our kinds from extinction?

  * * *

  PINEDALE 150 MILES

  The vampire read the road sign, then closed his eyes to picture his daughter’s new home. A white picket fence of a red brick Georgian dwelling with white trim around the dormer windows and doors, a chimney protruding from the roof, and a lawn chair on the front porch. Ekim’s only wish was to make a stopover.

  “I can’t,” he whispered through clenched teeth. His stomach tightened, and the vampire bent to rest his hands on his knees for a moment. The pain wasn’t physical but was still a torment.

  How long before I can see my daughter for the first time?

  I can’t.

  Ekim’s path around Pinedale to reach the powerful witch Hannah had to confuse the seekers so they wouldn’t know he avoided the town intentionally.

  He sped up, running along the shadow of a railroad bridge, the forest looming on his left. The sweet fragrance of jasmine floated in the air reminding him of home. Inside, he could only hope Hannah would trust him and provide the protection Sarah needed. Was this too much hope for a vampire to have?

  * * *

  June 21, the longest day of the year. Ekim huddled in the shadow of a fir, wishing it was broad enough to cover his body. When his thoughts wandered, the sun singed the arms, and he’d have to shuffle another inch to avoid the scorching beams. Waiting since sunrise, he watched the fireball rolling across the blue sky. Moving his body with the tree’s shade throughout the day, the vampire imagined sweat beading and running down his face, though he knew it wouldn’t. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, anxious. The sun almost touched the earth. Another two to three minutes.

  Ekim looked to the west, his feet planted exactly in the spot he’d been told to be: 44.57N by 110.5W. To his left, the sun sank to touch the top of a hill. As the fiery orb collided with the mound of earth, its rays sprayed outward to fall across fields, hills, and valleys, bathing all life with an orange and yellow glow—everywhere except one area in the lee of the hill. He smiled. Its shade would lengthen, and he’d be able to escape the shadow of the fir toward it.

  Now. He ran fast, ducking under branches, jumping over fallen pines. The faith he held onto inside didn’t let him wonder whether Hannah would listen. Castall’s promise that she would sufficed. After all, her husband was an influential warlock.

  A noise in the bushes to the right kept Ekim alert as he sprinted. Something paralleled his route.

  What else could move as fast as a vampire? A seeker? He inhaled, but the scent was unfamiliar. Ekim sensed another creature’s tracking on the left and his fangs sprouted.

  They stayed concealed until Ekim reached Hannah’s hill before leaping from the bushes to block his way. They looked like vampires—their faces were similar in structure, their gestures familiar—but the smell of wet bear fur mixed with that of a wolf intrigued thim.

  “What do you want?” the female shouted.

  “I’m looking for Hannah,” Ekim answered, careful not to give too much away. Anything he said could be used to find Sarah.

  She kept her stern eyes on the vampire. “What do you want from her?”

  The male stared, his brows furrowed, but although he looked toward Ekim, his piercing gaze concentrated on the forest at his back.

  Something rustled branches and leaves behind Ekim, but he did not stir. He inhaled deeper, letting his acute senses work. Five grizzly bears, three wolves, six mountain lions, and two coyotes—all focused on the vampire. Four eagles circled overhead, their underbodies golden in the afterglow of the sun. The male murmured at the animals under his breath in a tongue Ekim did not recognize.

  The mammals did not pose a threat to Ekim. He’d get a few scratches but could handle them. His mouth watered at the thought of some carnivore blood. He held back though, unsure of the two beings standing in front. Their bodies were well-defined, muscles taut without flexing, and Ekim wasn’t the only one, he noted, who didn’t break a sweat while running.

  “My business is only for Hannah. Castall sent me.” Ekim stood taller but lowered his shoulders and softened his eyes. He let his fangs retract.

  A crunching sound accompanied subtle movement in the earth and brushes behind the two beings. Ekim smelled crushed rosemary and mint. Their arms were still crossed at their chests, and they did not twitch. An oval of grass in the hill moved a camouflaged door that swung open. A lady in her early fifties stepped out.

  Hannah, Castall’s witch wife.

  “Kids, stand down. He’s kin,” she ordered, eyeing Ekim from top to bottom. She waved forward. “I’m Hannah. Come in, Ekim.”

  The male nodded and motioned with his arm toward the bushes at Ekim’s back. The animals scattered into the darkening forest. Both “kids” stepped up beside Hannah, then parted to either side as the vampire followed her in.

  Fresh basil and pepper joined the herbal aroma inside. The dwelling was larger than Ekim expected for the small hill concealing it.

  “The outside’s an illusion,” Hannah said softly, as if he’d voiced his confusion. The witch’s light and gentle voice did not match her size. Despite the weight she carried, she moved across the room with grace, her long skirt brushing the wooden floor as if she were dancing.

  The air was warmer here than above ground, the dimmer light making it cozy. A small fireplace crackled on the back wall as steam hovered over a simmering pot hanging above the low flames.

  “Have a seat, Ekim.” She gestured toward an armchair against the opposite wall. Underneath her long sleeve, Ekim glimpsed a mark of three wavy lines on her wrist identical to Castall’s on her wrist. The pair who greeted Ekim had taken up positions on either side of Hannah. She gestured to them next. “It’s in their nature to be protective. Something that you’re seeking, I gather—protection.”

  Ekim bowed, acknowledging Hannah’s wisdom, and waited for her to speak again.

  Hannah raised her thick eyebrows and dipped her head to look at him over her glasses. “Protection . . . These are my children, and I will protect them with my life.” She gazed expectantly at Ekim.

  “It’s my child I need to protect, as well,” he answered.

  Hannah sat on a stool by the fireplace and threw a log into the pit before leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. With a pop, the settling fire spa
t two embers out on the floor. She picked them up with her bare hand and tossed them back into the growing flames.

  “Castall said I could come to you for help. He gave me this to pass along.” Cautious, Ekim lifted his hand toward the top of his long coat. The “kids” watched the movement closely. He pulled a white envelope from the inside breast pocket and handed it to Hannah. The initials H.G. were handwritten on the front, the back sealed with a wax stamp. “It should explain everything.”

  Hannah let a smile surface as she carefully opened the letter. The kids continued to glare at Ekim as she read. When she finished reading, she looked up. “Sarah and William are unique, like my children.” She glanced lovingly at them. “The half-breeds can bring salvation to both humankind and vampires. Without them, the demons will win.” Her eyes widened. “They will bring peace and balance to the underworld—but only together. When they learn who they are, they are to overthrow the demon lord. Together, they will be stronger than Aseret and his army.” Her eyelids partially closed when she spoke. Her eyes moved from side to side; she was making a prediction.

  Sliding from the stool, Hannah squatted beside a potted plant and scooped a fistful of dirt into her hand. She let it fall through her fingers down to the floor. Her eyes rolled back in their sockets, and her head tipped back. “You will be captured, Ekim. Do not fear. They will save you. You will be Sarah’s only hope. Believe in what you feel.” She paused. “Beware of Xela.”

  Then her head fell forward, and she looked up at the “kids” with her own eyes. “Your father’s asking you to move to Pinedale immediately. You will be Sarah’s secret guardians throughout her childhood and adolescence. You will be her friends and companions. You will protect her as if she were your blood.” She rose and handed the letter to the girl at her side, who read it.

  “Sarah’s only one. How are they going to be her friends?” Ekim pointed hesitantly at the siblings.

  The young woman looked up from the letter. “We assume whatever shape we need to be. We will befriend Sarah as children.” Her gaze returned to the paper. “Your daughter has a difficult journey ahead. We will do everything that’s asked of us and nothing less.”