And then it went pitch black.
He turned cold eyes on her, ones that revealed none of what he was feeling. “I have to go.”
“Meet me tomorrow, here, at eight?” she blurted, afraid she had done something wrong and was going to lose her chance to save her brother.
Afraid she wouldn’t see Marek again.
He hesitated.
Nodded.
Looked down at the vampires and then at her, and she felt sure he wanted to say something.
He disappeared, leaving wisps of black smoke behind.
Caterina sagged against the door, her breath leaving her in a rush as her tension bled out of her. She mulled over what she had learned tonight. The man hadn’t lied to her. Marek was a god. He hadn’t denied it when she had called him on it.
What sort of god was he?
She doubted he was anything like the man who had done this to her. There was darkness in Marek, but that man had been cruel, a twisted sort of dark that still set her on edge even now and had her doubting that he would keep his word even if she did what he wanted.
Another wave of nausea hit her and she breathed through it.
Would the sickness ever pass?
Did she want it to?
If it passed, it might mean she was a daemon now, no longer just a human with an infection that could be cured.
She looked down at herself. What sort of daemon would she be?
She had pondered that question more than once since waking to find Guillem watching over her, preparing herself for the worst in case the man had lied and couldn’t cure her.
Her brother had asked her what had happened, and she hated herself for lying to him. She didn’t want him to worry about her. That didn’t stop him. He had fussed over her every night since the man had visited them, had tried to keep her from going out. When she had explained that she had to go or she couldn’t save him, he had relented.
Whenever she returned from searching for Marek, Guillem questioned her all over again, and she went to bed with guilt churning her stomach to burning acid that wouldn’t let her sleep. Not only because she was lying to her brother, but because she was doing something terrible.
She killed monsters.
And now she was going to help them?
The man and Lisabeta were monsters. She was sure of that. They were evil. Marek was darkness, a warrior born of shadows, but he was nothing like them.
How was she meant to hand him over to them?
She closed her eyes and thought of Guillem.
She would do it for him.
And when he asked her tonight where she had been and what she had been doing, and why she was still sick, she would lie to him.
Because she had to protect him and she felt sure that if he knew what she was involved in, he would try to protect her by getting involved.
Which would put him in Marek’s firing line.
And she knew in her heart what would happen then.
Marek would kill him.
And that would kill her.
Chapter 13
Leaving Caterina last night had been difficult, but Marek had done it for her sake. If he had stayed, she would have wanted to hunt the other vampires, and as far as he could tell, she had been in no fit state to fight. She would have been vulnerable, and would have ended up injured or worse.
He leaned back in his leather executive chair and stretched, reaching his arms above his head as he stared at the three monitors mounted on his desk. His back ached from sitting for so long, muscles stiff from hunching over the keyboard, and for what? He was no closer to discovering if there was a Hellspawn among the ranks of their enemy.
Esher and Daimon had filed their nightly reports, both of which had amounted to one line. No activity at the gate. Tokyo and Hong Kong had passed a quiet night. The fourth in a row. That was unusual in itself. It was rare to go more than a night without a Hellspawn wanting access to the Underworld or the city on the mortal side of the gate.
Several of the gates had been too quiet. New York was heading towards a week without any activity, not even daemons sniffing around when Ares had gone to check the gate still worked.
Marek didn’t like it.
Keras wasn’t interested in listening to any theories on the matter though, not when traffic through the Paris and London gates was at an all-time high, and Valen was experiencing more than one call out a night too.
The Seville gate had been quiet last night, but the three previous nights it had called him to it and a Hellspawn had been waiting for him to open it. No daemons in the vicinity either.
It was almost business as usual.
Which set Marek on edge.
It felt as if someone was trying too hard to make them relax their guard.
It wasn’t going to happen, not since the enemy had somehow activated the twin gate in Seville. Marek wasn’t letting his guard down again, not until this was all over and his enemy was no more, and the threat to his world and this one was eradicated with them.
He pushed to his feet and padded barefoot from his office, banking left as he reached the living room and heading towards his bedroom. He looked at the combat clothing he had laid out on his bed, the black almost blending with the dark blue covers. It had been another hot day, and according to the weather report he had watched, it was sweltering in Barcelona.
Marek looked down at his charcoal linen trousers. He really didn’t want to gear up tonight, when all he planned to do was some light recon work. The material of his fatigues was heavy, the cotton so thick it would trap his body heat and probably make him feel as if he was slowly boiling to death in his own clothing.
He turned away from the bedroom, headed towards the back door beside the unlit stone fireplace at the other end of the living room, and grabbed his sandals. He slipped them on, fastened them and scrubbed a hand over his hair, neatening the wild waves so he didn’t look as if he had been running his fingers through them all day, worrying them as he had carried out another long stretch of sifting through files on the servers, looking for clues.
He fastened a few more buttons on his black linen shirt, debated unrolling the sleeves, and then blew out his breath and stepped.
Caterina gasped and whirled to face him, putting her back to the arched wooden door. “Déu! You frightened me.”
“Sorry. I thought I would be first here.” Since he had left a good thirty minutes before they had agreed to meet.
He tilted his head back and looked up at the clouds that were beginning to gather threads of gold and pink as the evening encroached. He was definitely early. He looked back at Caterina.
A hint of rose climbed her cheeks. “I wanted to take another look around.”
She had been as eager as he was to get going.
Or had she been eager to see him again?
He had been eager to see her.
He closed the distance between them, brushing off the lingering ribbons of black from the teleport as he went, aware of how much she didn’t like them. They were gone by the time he reached her, by the time he lifted his hand and swept his fingers across her cheek.
“You look better today.” He stroked his fingers down to her jaw, pressed two beneath it and gently tipped her head up. “Although, you are still a little pale.”
“It’s just flu or something.” She pulled away from him.
“I told you I can’t get sick. You don’t have to worry about passing it to me.”
She muttered, “That must be nice.”
She rubbed her hand against her bare arm and he frowned as he noticed that she wasn’t wearing her leather jacket, or her sword. She wasn’t planning on fighting tonight either? That eased his mind. He was glad she knew her limits and wasn’t as reckless as he had thought.
“Where do you pop in from?” She glanced at him. “When you teleport.”
“Seville.” He didn’t see the point in hiding things from her, not when she already knew he was a god.
“I’ve fought vampir
es there before.” She moved past him but he didn’t miss the way she looked him over.
His blood heated at that subtle sweep of her eyes over his body and he found it hard not to give her the same, long and leisurely look over.
“To think, I could have run into you on my turf.” He turned to track her as she meandered around the courtyard, traced her profile as she tilted her head back to gaze at the sky, her long caramel-coloured hair falling from her slender shoulders to brush the back of her black tank. “We could have met years ago.”
“I would have liked that.” Her faint smile had him taking a step towards her as concern washed through him.
He had thought her brighter today, recovering from whatever sickness weakened her, but she looked so sombre as she stared at the evening sky, felt so distant from him.
And resigned.
“Caterina.” He slid his hand along her elbow and gently cupped her left arm. She glanced down at his hand and then up at his face, a myriad of feelings in her eyes that were impossible to decipher. Other than that terrible resignation he didn’t want to see in them. “Is something wrong?”
She stared at him for long seconds.
Then shook her head.
Forced a smile.
“I think I’m just tired. This infection is taking its toll on me. I’m sorry, I’m not much company.”
Infection? She had said it was influenza before. Influenza was a virus, not an infection. Perhaps she was just more tired than she looked and was struggling to think straight. That had him wanting to take her home and make her rest, to tuck her into his bed and sit with her until she had recovered. They could talk, while away the hours by learning more about each other. He would like that.
“Are we hunting vampires tonight or not?” Caterina breezed past him, paused at the wooden door and looked back at him. “I want to get going.”
“It’s a long walk to the location I was given. I could teleport you.” He went around in circles, debating that in his head. Was she strong enough to survive a teleport?
Her cheeks were flushed again as she stared at his body, and he wasn’t sure whether it was because she was sick or because she was recalling the last time he had teleported her somewhere.
To a dark roof where they had made love.
“I’ll walk. I need the air.” She held her hand out to him. “Come on. I want to get away from this place.”
He walked to her and she dropped her hand to her side as he reached her. Not that he had intended to take it and hold it or anything. He looked down at it as she exited the courtyard. Did she want him to take it? Would she find it comforting?
He made the mistake of glancing up at her and his gaze caught on her breasts, on the fine sheen of sweat that glistened on her modest cleavage as she fanned herself with her hand.
“The city is too damned hot tonight,” she muttered and took hold of the front of her tank top and waved it back and forth as she walked along the alley.
Gods, she would be his undoing.
He spotted a convenience store ahead of them on the road and hurried towards the refrigerated cabinet near the entrance. He grabbed two bottles of water, tossed the cashier some money, and was back outside before Caterina had reached the door.
He held one of the ice-cold bottles out to her.
“My hero,” she murmured, a genuine smile curling her lips as she took the water from him.
She closed her eyes, tilted her head back and pressed the bottle to her neck. The half sigh, half moan that left her lips transported him back to the dark rooftop.
She stilled and slowly opened her eyes. They locked on him and a flush touched her cheeks. Nothing to do with her sickness this time. She was remembering that moment too. It was there in her hazel eyes as her pupils dilated, darkening them.
An unsettling swirling sensation formed in his stomach.
The coppery odour of daemons hit him.
Marek’s focus whipped to the one standing at the other end of the street, her glowing yellow eyes fixed on Caterina. He reached out with his senses, sharpening them as he slowly reached for Caterina’s arm. His internal radar pinged three daemons, all of them strong.
“Damn it.” He looked at Caterina. He couldn’t teleport her, not when he wasn’t sure she would survive it.
He couldn’t fight where he was either, exposed to the eyes of too many mortals.
And he couldn’t leave her behind, because the daemons had seen her with him and were sure to target her.
He scooped her up into his arms, tearing a gasp from her, and launched into a dead sprint towards the opposite end of the alley. Two more daemons stepped out in front of him and he barrelled past them. He banked sharply right as he hit the small square beyond them and hoofed it down the busy road, trying not to jostle Caterina too badly.
Mortals paused to stare as he ran past them, as he dodged and weaved through the cars to reach the other side of the road, hoping that it would slow the daemons down.
“Marek?” Caterina sounded panicked as she gripped his shoulders and pulled herself up.
He glanced down at her, finding her looking over his shoulder.
“They’re closing in.” Her eyes darted to his, wide and luminous pools that reflected the fear he could feel in her. “They’re not vampires.”
“Daemons,” he barked as he kicked off and launched over a car, landing on the roof before pressing down hard with his foot and leaping again.
“They look human.” Caterina clung to him, her fingers digging in hard.
He landed in a clearing between a car and a bus, fielding a lot of shocked looks from the occupants, and growled as he pushed himself harder, reaching for a little more speed.
Just enough to get Caterina somewhere safe without the daemons noticing.
If he could hide her, he could fight them without worrying about her safety. She was a liability as it stood right now, a distraction he couldn’t afford in a fight against three daemons.
Caterina shrieked, the sound a knife through his heart, and his senses blared a warning. He dodged right, cutting in front of a van, and a muffled grunt and the screeching of tyres was like music to his ears.
The daemons had to be some sort of higher form of shifter, possibly one of the ugly sorts who wore human skin to hide their scales, horns and pointed protrusions that made them resemble lizards.
He would find out if he could land a blow on one.
He focused on the ground beneath him, on the sand and earth hidden below the stone pavement, summoning his connection to it. It flooded him with warmth, the lingering heat of day. Each step he took shook the earth, had the pavement bucking as he left it behind, forming a jagged surface in his wake that he hoped would slow the daemons down.
Salt laced the thick air, and he frowned as people screamed ahead of him and behind him, rushing for cover as the buildings shook and the ground bucked harder. Car horns blared. Dogs barked. One slipped its leash and bolted past him.
Marek didn’t care.
All he cared about was that he was running out of road.
The ocean loomed ahead of him.
Golden streaks chased over the waves.
He grinned.
The daemons were strong, but were they strong enough to handle a direct dose of evening sunlight?
The area where they had ambushed him had been a network of alleyways, providing them with enough shadows to move without fear of the setting sun. The beach was another matter. It stretched before him, a golden swath of sand that had looked like a dead-end at first, but now looked like the perfect battleground.
Even if the daemons could withstand the fading light, they would be weakened by it.
Giving him the advantage.
Hiding Caterina took a backseat as he put his new plan into action. He focused on the path before him, sending a shockwave across the earth to shake the pavement in all directions, right down to the sea.
The humans scattered as planned, several of them leaving their vehicles
to run for cover.
The streets emptied.
Perfect.
He broke out into the light and switched his focus to the daemons, tracking them as they pursued him, waiting to see what they would do. Only one of them hesitated as they reached the edge of the shadows. The other two stayed firmly on his heels.
“They’re still close. Can you go faster?” Caterina breathed in his ear.
He arched an eyebrow at her. “I could drop some ballast.”
Her eyes widened and she clung to him. “Don’t you dare.”
Marek tried not to savour the feel of her arms around him or how she held on to him, trusting him to protect her and revealing that she wanted to remain close to him.
Tried and failed.
His feet hit the sand. He pivoted to face the daemons, lowering Caterina at the same time. The blonde female’s yellow eyes fixed on her and she hissed as her claws extended, flaring from her fingertips like talons.
Marek gripped Caterina’s hip and went to guide her behind him.
A brunette female appeared right next to her.
Everything slowed as he grabbed Caterina’s right arm.
As he pulled her towards him.
As the daemon’s claws cut across Caterina’s left arm, slicing through the healing scar that darted over her biceps.
Her cry ripped at him, the pain that crumpled her face tearing at his heart and stirring the darkness within him, whipping it into a tempest that had a snarl pealing from his lips as he launched a hand out at the daemon.
Caterina stumbled backwards, clutching her arm, and the sight of the blood seeping from between her fingers pushed him over the edge.
He raised his right hand and a hundred spears of sand burst from the beach, each jagged shard razor-sharp on two sides. The blonde daemon nimbly dodged them all, fast on her feet, but the brunette didn’t fare so well. One of the blades cut up the side of her thigh, spilling her vile black blood.
The stench of it had the darkness pushing harder, stealing more control from him. He focused on the brunette, casting a wave of sand at her. She brought her arms up to protect her face but the weight of it took her down, burying her in a pile at least a foot deep.
Marek: Guardians of Hades Series Book 4 Page 14