Insidious: (The Marked Mage Chronicles, Book 1)

  “Carly.”

  “What?” She batted her eyes innocently.

  “Honestly, I’m afraid to actually know,” I amended with a yawn. “But besides that, what does any of that have to do with me?”

  “Seriously? The last time a murder took place here, e-mail wasn’t even invented yet.”

  If only she really knew…

  Bodies seemed to be dropping faster than a drunken sorority girl in stilettos.

  “Whoever is behind this seems to be sticking to a pretty strict M.O., so it’s safe to assume that there’s a connection linking you to Casey and Felicia.”

  “But Kat’s not from around here,” said Reese. “I highly doubt that missing link is blood related.”

  “Eliminate the impossible before considering the improbable,” countered Car, taking her place at the table. She remained in high spirits…for the first two hours.

  We all had our heads on the table, leafing through more and more pages with bleary eyes.

  “Can we take a break?” Reese pleaded. “I’m starving.”

  “Just a little longer,” said Car. “We’re on the verge of a breakthrough. I can feel it.”

  “I can feel the bottomless pit in my stomach,” he murmured, tossing another file aside. “Is your life even half as mind numbing as these articles are? Because if so, I’m recommending you for sainthood.”

  “Thanks,” I chortled. It’s not like I could blame him. He’d spent the last forty five minutes reading about every publicized fundraiser I’d been dragged to over the past year.

  “Seriously, look at this. Auctions, pledges, raffles, charity balls, galas, holiday luncheons, formals, weekly parties…” He tossed the news clippings aside, rubbing his exhausted eyes. “Do you have a life outside school and the country club?”

  “What do you think?” I scoffed, tossing another file at him.

  He flipped it open and immediately banged his head on the tabletop. “There’s more?”

  “The week I stayed home after the accident was the first time since moving here I got to actually sleep in.”

  “Jesus.”

  “Sometimes privilege doesn’t buy you freedom. It only puts more restrictions on what you’re allowed to do with your life.”

  “Stay positive,” ordered Carly, grabbing a fresh batch of folders. Her stomach grumbled, and she winced. “Although, you’ve got a point. I really could go for a quick bite. Kat, you have anything I can nibble on?”

  “All I have is a box of Tic Tacs.”

  “I’ll take it.” She seized hold of my purse and rummaged through the mess, trying to unearth the source of the infamous rattling.

  “You okay?” asked Reese.

  I looked up to see Carly’s eyes wide, her fingers wrapped around a white paper cuff. It was the patient ID band I’d received in the hospital after the accident. The cuff had been way too big for my wrist, so I’d just tossed it into my bag the moment they gave back my things upon release.

  Carly whipped the band aside and it smacked Reese in the chest. He studied it, but still looked just as baffled as me. The girl was flinging folders left and right, cursing as she continued in her search. For what exactly, we had no idea.

  “Yahtzee!” Peeling through the pages, her eyes finally settled on a document and her face immediately paled.

  Reese looked over her shoulder. “You find something there, Sherlock?”

  “Try a whole lot of somethings.” She slid each of the papers over to Reese and me. They were my family’s medical records. “Look at the blood types.”

  “What am I missing here?” My parents were both O-positive, as was I.

  “Did you ever need another blood transfusion after you were little?”

  “I wasn’t aware I needed it the first time,” I said, taking the next paper she handed to me. Apparently, I’d been born premature and in consequence had been anemic. This was all news to me. “I’m still not sure where you’re going with this, Car.”

  “When you were in the E.R., the doctor ordered new blood work for you, probably to see if there were any drugs or alcohol in your system. Notice anything odd?”

  Reese took another look at the wristband, and the same expression washed over his face as it had with Carly.

  I leaned over, snatching it from his hands. “That… That can’t be right.”

  Plain as day, the cuff read, TYPE: B-negative.

  “They can’t be my parents.”

  ***

  “Hey, you guys could be, like, the long lost heiresses to a billion dollar empire, and maybe evil corporate CEOs have sent out henchmen to hunt you all down to keep the money for themselves,” declared Carly.

  “Or,” Reese interjected snippily, “maybe the hospital just made a clinical error.”

  I shook my head. The more I thought about it, the less likely it seemed. Sure, every kid at some point wonders if they’re adopted, but there were more than a few oddities I couldn’t overlook. My parents had made their fair share of remarks over the years that they would’ve thought I was adopted if they didn’t know any better. While both my mom and dad’s sides of the family had either brown or hazel green eyes, mine were just plain off-putting. My pediatrician called it “central heterochromia.” It was a mutation that caused an iridescent ring of yellow to hug the pupils, while the rest of my eyes were bright blue. Not to mention, while my parents had blonde hair, neither of theirs was nearly as white as my own. In fact, both of theirs were on the darker end of the color spectrum. Even odder, both my folks suffered from an array of allergies. My mom couldn’t even take Advil, as it would cause her to go into anaphylactic shock. Yet, I never had a reaction to anything in my entire life.

  If I wasn’t really their kid, I highly doubted they even knew. The Montgomerys were one of those so-called “dynasty” families that were weird about potential spouses tainting their bloodline. This was so strong in fact that my grandparents threatened to cut off my eldest uncle’s inheritance if he went through with marrying a barmaid he met back in college. Needless to say, he’s still miserably living in a lap of luxury as a terminal bachelor.

  Had there been a mix up at the hospital? Had I really been switched at birth?

  Was it even a mistake?

  If I was somehow related to Casey and Felicia, someone knew about the swap. Why else had I been targeted? Why kill Blaine, only to bother bringing me back to life? Maybe I really was a Changeling, in more ways than one.

  We remained silent for the rest of the drive after Reese dropped Carly back off at her house.

  “You sure you don’t want to do something? Help get your mind off things?” Reese finally asked, rolling up to the side street of my house.

  I shook my head. “I’ll be okay. My folks…or whoever they are…they’re home tonight, and we don’t really get to spend a lot of time together.”

  “If you change your mind—”

  I reached over and kissed his cheek. “You’ll be the first one I call.”

  Considering Mom’s rant this morning, I figured it would be best to not get caught doing anything more, especially right outside the house, so I blushingly said goodbye and climbed out. I still would have loved to see the look on her face though if she had caught us.

  Mom had made my dad and me promise that we’d always reserve Thursday nights for family. So long as Dad wasn’t away on business, we’d adjust our schedules accordingly and actually take the time to sit down for dinner and eat—together. I was supposed to be home by seven, and it was already a quarter after.

  I prepared myself for a tongue lashing as I walked in the front, only to be greeted by silence. My heart immediately sank. “Hello?”

  No response, except for Mom’s Persian cat lounging on the entryway table. She let out a low growl at me as I hung up my coat.

  “Belles?” I brought my hand up to stroke her, seeing the fur on her arched back and tail puffing up. She hissed, swatting a tiny paw at me, and I took the hint. I called out for my folks again as I headed
into the kitchen, receiving no answer.

  Shocker.

  Given that there wasn’t a trace of anything in the fridge but restaurant doggy bags, it meant I’d have to fend for myself. Rummaging through the containers, I found nothing but some old Thai food. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone here even ordered that, so I figured it’d be best to stay away from it.

  “Who’s in the mood for delivery?” I queried to the empty kitchen, plucking off the coupon I had pinned up on the fridge. “No objections? Perfect.”

  I ordered two extra-large cheese pizzas and headed up the stairs. The guy on the phone said I had forty-minutes till they dropped off the food, so I had time to take a shower beforehand. I kicked the door open to my bedroom, lobbing my jacket on the nightstand as I grabbed some fresh clothes from my closet. All the blood drained from my face as I looked up at the mirror beside my dresser.

  “Look at what we have here,” cooed the brunette standing in the corner. In one swift motion, she crossed the room and shut the door. “About time you showed up. I’ve been waiting forever.”

  I whirled around, almost winding up on my ass as I stumbled backwards over my book bag. It was the girl from Rockabilly Bob’s.

  “What a pretty little thing you are. The Master’s going to be very pleased with this.” She practically salivated as she eyed me up and down like I was a hot fudge sundae. Her eyes burned a smoldering gold as her smile grew.

  Crap.

  She was a Hellhound.

  “Any chance you’ll believe that this is just a case of mistaken identity?” I laughed feebly.

  “Afraid not,” she cooed, taking her time as she sauntered towards me. “Could’ve spotted you a mile away.”

  “And why’s that?” My voice cracked over each word.

  “You’re marked.”

  “Come again?” I looked over my shoulder, seeing the two-story drop outside the window. The chance that Mom’s rose bush garden below would cushion my fall seemed unlikely. In fact, it sounded awfully prickly. The girl guarded my path to the doorway, knowing full well I’d never manage to snake around her. And even at the off chance I managed, she’d probably wolf-out and rip me in half with her teeth.

  “You’re marked,” she reiterated. “You belong to him now, and the Master has his plans.” She snarled, snapping forward.

  I screamed like a banshee as I leapt sideways, trying to make a run for the bathroom, and all she did was laugh before a grip tightened on the back of my collar. In one swift motion, I was sent hurtling backwards, smacking my head against the bed post as I lost my footing and hit the floor. She strolled over to me with a pip in her step, staring down at me in cruel amusement as if I were an ant burning under a magnifying glass.

  My hand slipped under my bed skirt, and surprise flashed in the brunette’s eyes as I drew out my baseball bat from beneath the mattress.

  “Aww, little Kitty Kat wants to play?” she teased.

  Her continual taunting only propelled me further to slice the bat into the girl. I sprang up from the hardwood and all-out hurtled the aluminum, landing it right in the middle of her arm as she used it to shield her face. The force knocked her off balance, but she just as easily recovered. The girl blew the hair out of her eyes as she shrugged off her leather jacket, and I couldn’t help but gag at the sight of the unnatural bend in her forearm. I’d broken the bone in half, the splintered end pushing against the inside of her skin as it threatened to break out.

  I half expected her to curse or scream or do…something, but she just stared down at it with indifference. Not a smidgen of pain. It dawned on me far too late about what Reese had said. She was a Hellhound; therefore she didn’t feel. Not only would she heal faster, but whereas pain would hinder someone’s mobility, she was like a freaking Terminator! Not until I managed to beat her body to a point where it couldn’t move at all would she ever stop. How the hell was I going to do that? I took another swing at her, but it proved to be in vain. She absorbed the hit to her rib cage like my bat was made out of nothing more than foam.

  “You through?” she huffed exasperatedly, gripping the sweet spot of the bat as I tried recovering from the futile swing. The brunette pried the aluminum from my hands and tossed it across the room.

  The breath caught in my throat as I took notice to the beauty mark on her left cheek. I’d seen that before… “Brittany.”

  Her brows furrowed in confusion.

  “That’s your name, isn’t it?” I muttered. “Brittany Lynch. You were on the Hersey bus the night it vanished. W-what happened to you?”

  “I found salvation,” she growled. The gold in her eyes turned yellow as she bared her teeth, and her canines lengthened as they pushed out from her gum lines.

  I’d seen that look only once before, from the attacker in the alleyway. And that was after he’d shifted back into his human form. I had a feeling given her current appearance that things were about to get more hairy…or more furry.

  Just as she moved in closer, the chain dangling from my neck bit at my exposed skin with an icy prick.

  Could it work?

  I grabbed the pendant and yanked on it as hard as I could. Thankfully, the necklace broke off, but not without a grunt from my end. It always looked so easy and painless when someone did that on TV, but in actuality it really kind of hurt.

  “Here, play with this.” I flung the necklace at her, and she caught it as it smacked her in the chest.

  “Seriously?” She laughed, palming the cross in her good hand without any problem.

  Oh shit…

  With nowhere else to go and nothing else I could do, I retracted back to the windowsill. Thorn bushes, here I come.

  Suddenly, Brittany howled, dropping the pendant from her hand. Smoke rose from her palm, and she thrashed backward as the skin reddened. “Bitch!”

  Genuinely crippled by the scorching pain, the brunette doubled over onto the hardwood, digging her nails around the damaged flesh. I took opportunity with the distraction and leapt across my mattress, making it to the door. Just as I reached for the doorknob, a sweltering pain of my own registered in my right leg.

  I tried to stay on my feet, but the leg buckled under me against my will.

  “As they say, if the heel doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t help,” the brunette sneered.

  I dreadfully looked down, seeing the spike of her stiletto jammed in the back of my calf. She staggered up to her feet, laughing as she watched me crawl across the floorboards towards the doorway. I reached for the knob, but a grip tightened on my ankle and I was sent skimming across the hardwood. My vocal chords rattled as I relinquished an ear aching scream, feeling Brittany’s bare foot pushing the stiletto deeper into my calf. She let out a sadistic chuckle, yanking the device from my leg in one quick, agonizing pull.

  Clutching onto a chunk of my hair, the girl pried me off the floor, throwing me up against the wall beside my nightstand.

  “Maybe I should just bite you now and get it over with,” she hummed, wrapping a strong hand around my throat.

  I scratched and clawed at her, leaving everywhere from her hands to her face maimed with nail marks, but it didn’t do any good. Her grip tightened, squeezing the furious pulse pumping in my neck as she lifted me off the ground. I fought to keep conscious, but my vision inevitably clouded over with a tunneling gray haze as my feet kept kicking at the empty air beneath me.

  She leaned in closer, her jagged breathing batting me in the face as a low growl rumbled deep in her chest. She was going to bite me. I’d turn into a monster.

  Chapter 22

  Raise The Dead

  My fingers grappled at the objects on my nightstand, but a crash followed, and I assumed the brunette had swiped the countertop clean. The little bit of hope I had left drained from me as I clawed uselessly at her. She wrenched me off the wall, only to hammer me against it again with a breathtaking blow. Brittany whispered something, but the comment was lost on me. All I could hear was the rattling of the frames overhead. Th
e entire section above me was decked out with framed award plaques. Faith surged in me once more, and I prayed Mom hadn’t cheaped out. She’d paid no expense with the rest of the room, so it only seemed logical that this would be no exception.

  I reached up, tugging at the bottom of a random plaque until the hook holding it broke from the wall. The frame fell into my grasp, and I brandished it firmly. Brittany anticipated me hitting her with it, but she only laughed at the effort. As if a Presidential High Honors Award would really do any damage…

  Instead of hurling it at her, I yanked it down to eyelevel and shoved the plaque into her face. The girl howled, and I could hear her flesh sear as I mashed the Tiffany’s sterling silver frame against her cheek. She shrieked, immediately dropping me. Brittany screamed out every curse word in the book as her footsteps ambled mindlessly across the floor. The girl sounded like an injured bull in a china shop.

  I choked on the abundance of oxygen that flooded my lungs, welcoming each burning breath as my vision slowly cleared. A thunderous ruckus erupted across the room, and I looked up confusedly. Brittany’s body was in a hurled heap at the bottom of my now-broken bookcase. What the hell did she do? Charge into it? All my precious hard covers and paperbacks lay sprawled out across the floor with the exception of only the top shelf. I staggered up to my feet, whimpering at the sting raking up my leg from the heel wound. Holy crap on a cracker! No wonder the brunette had freaked out. There was a long, two-inch thick charcoaled burn running down the length of her face, seared even on her eye. Books fell away from on top of her as Brittany achingly tried pulling herself off the floor. She got up on shaking knees and staggered back, rattling the bookcase once more.

  “You’re dead,” she snarled.

  I might have paid more mind to her gigantic canines if not for the gruesome state of her face. Her damaged eye already had a clouded white film over the cornea, and beat red veins raked the remaining surface. As she sneered, the burnt flesh on her cheek stretched, causing it to tear.