Kat Redding 03 - Blessed by a Demon's Mark

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by E. S. Moore


  “Please,” he said. “We need to talk.”

  I kept from shooting him by taking off my coat. His gaze lingered on the gun in its shoulder holster as I tossed the coat on the table. I put my hands on my hips and gave him such a dark look, he winced.

  “Okay, talk,” I said. “But this better be damn good or I’m going to have to start putting holes in people who show up at my house unwelcome and unannounced.”

  “Then this is still your house?” Jonathan asked, all innocence.

  I glowered at him. “Of course.”

  “I was beginning to wonder,” he said. “You haven’t been here for so long, I thought perhaps you’d wised up and took to ground.”

  “Don’t you start in on me too.”

  He held his hands up. He was holding something in his left hand.

  I felt myself soften without meaning to. The coat looked just like the one I’d worn for years. I’d managed to lose both of my old coats while dealing with the mess my brother had caused.

  Jonathan saw me looking and a small smile quirked the corners of his mouth. “I thought you might like a new one.” He glanced at the coat on the table. “It appears you have not replaced your other, so it seems the gift is warranted.” His gaze traveled back to me. “I’ve waited a long time to give this to you.”

  For some reason, that made me angry. Just seeing Jonathan made memories of my brother flood into my head. I couldn’t stop blaming him for Thomas’s death. He’d been there and hadn’t been able to do anything to stop it.

  “Keep it,” I said. “I don’t need it.”

  Jonathan looked hurt. He lowered his hands and gave me such a pained look, I almost felt guilty for turning away his gift.

  “Look,” I said, trying to keep most of the anger out of my voice. “Tell me why you’re here and then get the fuck out of my house. And take your maimed wolf with you.”

  Jeremy flinched, and I could tell I’d hurt him almost as bad as I’d hurt Jonathan, maybe more. Why was I being such a bitch when all they were trying to do was help?

  Jonathan’s jaw stiffened as if he was fighting off the urge to say something less than respectful. He managed to compose himself before speaking.

  “I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said. “When Jeremy called and said you were back, I didn’t know what to think. I was really starting to believe you might be dead.”

  I glanced at the young wolf. He quickly looked away, face flaming. Ethan stepped protectively near him and glared at me.

  What the fuck? Ethan used to be scared of the Luna Cult wolves, had even warned me against them more than once. And now he was defending one of them? Things had really changed since I’d been gone.

  I hate change.

  “You’ve seen I’m okay,” I said, shifting my attention back to Jonathan. “Now go.” I tried to walk past him, but he refused to move out of my way.

  “No,” Jonathan said. “You’re not okay.”

  “Who gave you the right to decide how I’m doing?”

  “No one,” he said. “But I can see it in your eyes, hear it in your words. Something is very wrong with you and I only want to help.”

  My hands balled into fists and I stepped closer to the Luna Cult Denmaster, seriously invading his space. “Nothing is wrong with me. It’s everyone around me that’s pissing me off. I’m tired of everyone telling me to hide, to run away. I never should have come back if that’s the way you’re all going to act.”

  “Then why did you?”

  I closed down. I didn’t know how much Ethan had said to the others about his demon. I knew Ethan wasn’t a fan of the Denmaster, or at least never used to be, so I doubted he’d explained things to him. That didn’t mean Jeremy hadn’t, however. The young wolf could have been supplying Jonathan with all the information he wanted about my house and how I lived.

  Anger flared and I had to fight really hard to keep from lashing out. I should have listened to Ethan before when he’d warned me against the Cult. Now here I was with them in my house and they’d seemingly swayed him to their side. I was losing control of my own life.

  Jonathan glanced over his shoulder, apparently unconcerned by my nearness. “I’d like to talk to her alone,” he said.

  Both Jeremy and Ethan turned and headed for the stairs without hesitation. Ethan glanced back once, giving me a pleading look as if asking me to cooperate, before vanishing down the stairs.

  “I—”

  “Shut up and listen to me for a minute,” Jonathan said, turning back to face me. His eyes flared yellow and I took a step back, snapping my mouth closed. I’d never seen him this angry before without some severe provocation.

  “You have no right to talk to any of us like this,” he said. “I’d almost forgotten how stubborn you could be.”

  “I . . .” This time I trailed off on my own.

  “Ethan is supposed to be your friend and you left him to fend for himself. Jeremy lost his arm in an effort to help your brother. He thinks he is useless now, thinks the world has no place for a ‘maimed wolf,’ as you so eloquently put it. I gave him a reason to live, and I will not let you throw that away because you are too stubborn to see we are all here trying to help.”

  Guilt crept in past all my anger and confusion. I felt like a fool for lashing out so quickly. Just because I didn’t like what they were saying didn’t mean I should ignore them. They were only concerned for my well-being.

  Then why did it feel like they were trying to control me?

  “I came here in the hopes we could discuss this problem of yours, but I see now that it will not be possible, at least not tonight. Bad people are looking for you, and I do wish to help. No matter what you think, I want to keep you alive. I care about you. We all do.”

  I closed my eyes, which was something I normally wouldn’t do with a pissed-off werewolf standing a few feet away, but I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t know if I wanted to cry or if I wanted to scream. Jonathan’s words were hitting all the right spots.

  “Don’t throw your life away just because you are too bullheaded to ask for help. Just because things didn’t work out before doesn’t mean we can’t fix them now.”

  My eyes snapped open and anger took over. “You can’t fix my brother,” I said. “No matter how hard you try, you can’t fix him. He’s dead because we fucked up.”

  Jonathan’s eyes bled back to their normal blue. “Be that as it may,” he said, “it doesn’t have to destroy us.” He put special emphasis on the last word.

  “There is no us.” All the anger was back. “There never will be. I just want to live my life without people treating me like I’m some sort of cripple.”

  Jonathan sighed. He set the coat on top of the table, next to the coat Sienna had given me.

  “Keep it,” he said. “It’s a gift and I won’t take it back.” He looked at me and a profound sadness filled his gaze. “You don’t have to see me again,” he said. “But I will ask that you let Jeremy stay here for a little while longer. This is good for him. Don’t take that away just because you are angry.”

  I started to protest, but he raised a hand to stop me.

  “Think of Ethan,” he said. “The two of them have grown close. You can’t be here to protect him all the time. Jeremy can be here when you are not, can keep Ethan safe against those that would hurt him to get to you.”

  That hit a little too close to home.

  “Fine,” I said in a small voice. Somehow Jonathan had made me feel like a fool. Maybe I was. I’d been mad at so many people for so long, I was probably making things harder on myself by simply not listening and taking people’s advice when they give it. “He can stay.”

  “Thank you.” Jonathan dipped his head ever so slightly and turned and walked away.

  I almost called out to him, almost told him to come back. I was the reason he was forced to keep a glamour up at all times to hide his true face. I was the reason he limped ever so slightly when he walked. I’d damaged him in more ways
than one. The least I could do was talk to him civilly and thank him for all that he’d done.

  But I kept quiet, knowing if I called him back, I’d regret it later. I couldn’t let anyone get close to me again, not if I planned on returning to Delai once all of this was over.

  The front door opened and closed, leaving me standing alone in the dining room with nothing but my guilt to keep me company.

  8

  You’d think some time alone with my thoughts would help me sort through the mess of emotions I’d been going through. A long day alone in my room with just myself for company could be a balm to the soul.

  But it wasn’t. I sat there and fumed, dwelling on things I probably should have let go. Jonathan had no right to come into my house and tell me how to act, what to do. It seemed everyone wanted to have a say in what I did with myself. It made me so angry, I wanted to scream.

  In the end, however, I was angriest at myself for letting things get so far out of hand. I never should have up and left for Delai like I had, leaving everyone to wonder what happened to me. I understood why I did it. I couldn’t face my brother’s death, face what I’d become. I’d been in shock, and the sleepy little town was the only place I thought I could go for sanctuary.

  And it had worked for a time. I’d felt good there, managed to overcome a lot of my pain by pretty much forgetting about it. Levi helped me keep my hunger at bay and at times, I felt like a normal person.

  Too bad I always knew the truth.

  What didn’t help was that my hunger was roaring by the time night fell, which only accentuated my anger. I was hungry and Levi wasn’t around to help me deal with it. His blood bags might taste like shit, but I’d come to rely on them so I wouldn’t have to hunt.

  I stormed out of my bedroom, dressed in all leather. Jonathan’s gift hung from my shoulders like it had been made especially for me. It felt awkward at first, but I think that had to do more with whom it was from than what it was. After a few seconds of fidgeting, I got over it and the coat felt natural on my body.

  Ethan was waiting for me in the dining room. I gave him a passing glace, one that warned him I was in no mood to be trifled with. He knew better than to mess with me when I was as starved as I was.

  My weapons were sitting on the metal bench in the basement. The moment my sword was strapped on, I felt a thousand times better, felt more focused, though the hunger was still there, eating at me bit by bit. I could feel myself becoming Lady Death, putting the Kat Redding I’d become in Delai behind me.

  I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. I hated Lady Death, hated the name, hated what she had become, yet I needed to be her to keep those I cared about safe. I couldn’t pretend I could do it without her mind-set. It was kill or be killed, and I planned on being the one doing all the killing.

  I turned to head back up the stairs and found Ethan standing there, staring at me.

  “What?” I snapped, slipping my coat off so I could get the shoulder holster on.

  “I was, uh, wondering . . .” He licked his lips and shuffled his feet. “Before you go, would you want to talk to Beligral?” His face reddened and he took an involuntary step back before I could even say anything.

  I checked my Glock, put it in its holster, and put my coat back on. “No,” I said as I started for the stairs.

  Ethan didn’t try to stop me as I passed him. He backed against the wall and watched me, worry lining his features. He knew I was hungry, knew I was going on a hunt.

  And he also knew there was a powerful vampire out there hunting for me.

  I tried not to think about it as I went through the side door, into the garage. I didn’t bother checking my motorcycle like I normally did before starting it up and tearing out into the cold. The tires lost traction almost as soon as I hit the driveway, but I managed to keep from crashing. Barely.

  I knew a lot of my anger stemmed from the hunger and my inability to control it, yet it felt like so much more. I could blame some of it on how people were treating me, how Jonathan assumed I would want his help. I could blame it on Countess Baset for hunting me even though I hadn’t actually killed her precious lover.

  But there was so much more to it than that. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but the rage kept building and building; it boiled in my gut so that I was a total mess by the time I decided which way to go.

  Blood dripped from my gums from where my fangs had punched through. The taste only served to make my hunger flare even more. If I kept going like this, I would be a ravenous beast in no time, and that wouldn’t be good for anybody.

  My first inclination was to head to High Street where I knew I could find a victim that wouldn’t weigh on my conscience later. I could go there, find someone in some dark alley who was probably high on something or near death anyway. I could feed on them until I was sated, and no one would bother me. I could then go on my merry way, having done a service to the Purebloods who still tried to walk the night despite the scum who usually prowled the streets.

  But that wouldn’t prove anything. Countess Baset was hunting for me even though quite a few people thought I was dead. Perhaps it was time I made myself known. Let the bitch see me. I could make such a scene it would terrify her.

  I found myself laughing as I shot down the road toward a part of town I rarely bothered to go.

  Polaris was a place where the rich Purebloods had congregated after the Uprising. They built their big houses, tried to keep themselves safe behind large walls and fancy electronics. The mall there was huge by today’s standards, as were many of the other buildings. The people of Polaris thought big was always better, and even as things fell apart around them, they stuck to it.

  Still, despite their attempts at isolating themselves from the horrors of the night, Polaris had become their prison.

  One of the big Royal Houses occupied the region now. Count Mephisto was pretty much top dog when it came to Royals. It didn’t take him long to take control of the businesses, and the homes quickly followed. He still let the Purebloods live there, protected them from outsiders even, but that didn’t mean they were anything more than sheep.

  Now, the Purebloods are still rich, but they give up their wives and children upon request. You didn’t tell Count Mephisto no. To do so was to invite disaster into your home. He wouldn’t kill you outright, but you’d wish you were dead by the time he was done with you and those you loved.

  Anyone could come and go in his territory. The parkway was open to anyone, as was the mall. You just had to abide by Mephisto’s rules, and feeding on his sheep wasn’t something he allowed without a permit.

  It was the perfect place to prove my point that I wasn’t someone to be fucked with.

  The dark roads I was used to were replaced by the well-lit parkway. Expensive cars rolled down the road, kids out cruising in one of the few places they could do so. Tall buildings towered to the sky, a water fountain sprayed a foamy stream into the air. Groups of teens huddled together, scurried from place to place in the hopes that something wouldn’t jump out at them from behind a tree.

  Just because it was illegal to eat his sheep, that didn’t mean rogues didn’t try it every now and again. And who knew when Mephisto or one of his minions would head out for a late-night snack, one that wasn’t as willing as the ones they kept back home in their cushy little mansions.

  But beneath the calm-seeming exterior, I knew the heart of the place to be black. No matter how much he tried to dress it up, Mephisto couldn’t do anything about what went on in the darkest corners of his safe haven. He wasn’t the only monster that walked the streets here.

  My eye fell on a huge man who was pressing someone against the wall of an alleyway. As I passed, he stepped back and the tiny thing he’d been holding slid down the wall to fall in a heap. The big vamp looked both ways and then bolted, leaving his bloodless victim behind.

  My stomach growled and I had to look away. I didn’t know if it was just a small woman or a child he’d fed upon,
but either way, she was dead. Polaris wasn’t really that much different from High Street when you got right down to it. People died. It was a way of life everywhere.

  I headed for the mall since it was the most public place I could think of. If I wanted to announce my return, it would be the ideal spot. I just had to find a likely victim and make sure I could easily get away. It wouldn’t do to make a scene, only to be captured by Mephisto’s men before I could get away.

  I found a place to park deep in the mall parking lot. The mall was huge, having grown over the years to be at least twice the size it had been when Mephisto first took over. It stayed open all night these days. Vampires and wolves shopped right along with the Purebloods, though the wares they shopped for were vastly different for obvious reasons.

  I knew of at least one store that sold teenagers imported from other countries. These girls and boys were highly sought after by the vamps with the most money to burn. If I knew I could pull it off, it would have been one of the first places I’d have shut down, though I knew it would be near impossible. Killing the employees wouldn’t stop Mephisto from importing children and selling them. I’d have to kill the vamp himself, and that was so unlikely as to be laughable.

  I kept my coat tightly wrapped as I dismounted. I didn’t want my weapons to show, especially here. I knew there were cameras, as well as crews on the lookout for those breaking the law. One glimpse of my silver weapons and I’d have the entire place coming down on me.

  That didn’t mean I’d ever consider leaving them behind. I’d rather risk getting caught with them than go unarmed. Anyone could jump me at any time. Safe rather than sorry, right?

  I glanced around the parking lot, unsure where to go from there. I was so hungry it hurt, but I wasn’t going to rush into anything.

  It was surprising how busy the place was, especially when you consider how quiet most of the city is at night. Aside from the vampires and wolves lurking the dark corners, walking next to the Purebloods, it might even be reminiscent of what it was like back before the Uprising. I only wished I’d been alive that far back to have seen it.

 

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