Marked by Sin: an Urban Fantasy Novel (The Gatekeeper Chronicles Book 1)

by Jasmine Walt

  His orange irises stood out starkly on his tanned face. “You want equal opportunities, woman? Don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

  Yeah, the coordinator had been iffy about letting me in, but there were no express rules against a female competing, and my money was as good as anyone else’s. Each player put a hundred in the pot. I’d used some of the money Eamon had given me. I didn’t care how much I’d won already, or how much this fight could net me. Ajitah was my objective tonight. He was watching me, and I had a plan.

  The bell tolled, and the rakshasa attacked. I held my ground, taking deep breaths, bracing myself for impact. This fight was all about the bruises, all about my pain. Being struck by Bart was what I’d imagine being hit by a freight train would feel like. I sailed through the air, slamming into the cage wire and bouncing back into the fray, right into his fist.

  Air whooshed out of my lungs, but there was no time to catch my breath as he swung me by the arm and released me, sending me flying right toward Ajitah.

  I hit the wire face first and blacked out for one blissful second.

  “Wake up! Dammit, woman, forfeit,” Ajitah shouted.

  He was crouched by my head with the cage wire a wall between us.

  I cracked open an eye, blocking out the searing pain as my body knit itself together, working on the internal injuries first. My face must have looked horrific—swollen eye, busted lip, bruises everywhere.

  Ajitah looked up, his jaw tensing. “Hold up a fist. Do it. Do it now.”

  The signal for forfeit? Not likely. That wasn’t part of the master plan. “Will you talk to me if I do?”

  “What?”

  “Five minutes, that’s all.”

  He needed to be quick because the tingle in my busted lip told me it was beginning to heal. If this was gonna work, he needed to think the worst.

  “Please . . .”

  Time to show him how much I was hurting. My vision blurred, and my bottom lip trembled. The act wasn’t hard. Despite my super-healing ability, I still felt the pain.

  Another quick look across the cage and he was nodding. “Fine, just forfeit.”

  “Do I have your word?”

  “Yes, dammit.”

  The tingle in my lip intensified as my skin knit together.

  “What the fuck?” His eyes widened, and he took a step back.

  I dropped him a wink and rolled to my feet to face my charging opponent. Power coursed through my veins, the bubble of anger that wanted retribution for the assault on my body. It was there for the taking, and it was time to put it to the test.

  Bart didn’t bat an eyelid at my super-fast recovery. He was either too focused on taking me down or too stupid to realize I may have some hidden skills at my disposal. It didn’t matter because I was about to take him down sans Vindra. Charging forward, I met him head-on, grabbed his biceps, and braced myself. We were at a stalemate. His orange eyes widened in comprehension of the fact that he no longer had the upper hand.

  “Hey, ready for a little trip?” I asked.

  Bunching my thighs, I dropped slightly for leverage and then twisted at the waist, taking him with me and forcing him to lose his grip on the ground. I used his momentum to slam him into the cage. The shock of the maneuver loosened his grip on me, and I used the freedom to leap back and deliver a spin kick to his meaty head.

  His eyes rolled, and he went down.

  The crowd roared.

  Time to go claim my five-minute reward.

  16

  Ajitah was no longer by the cage, but my gut told me he wasn’t far. He’d given me his word, after all.

  I canceled my third fight and let out a low whistle when the coordinator handed me a wad of cash for the two I’d won.

  The guy shook his head, sucking on his teeth. “You cleaned up tonight, chick. You ever want to do some business, you come see Al. I’ll take care of you.”

  “Yeah, thanks.” Like never.

  A quick count revealed almost three thousand in my hand. I’d been eyeing some darling boots in John Lewis that might be calling my name—

  “Malina!” Nina was beckoning from the bar, drink in hand.

  Fuck the boots.

  I headed over and held out the cash. “Here.”

  She looked down at it and then back up at me, her jade eyes misting. “What?”

  A strange sensation fluttered in my chest, and my throat pinched. “Just take the damn money. Use it to get the hell away from that fucker Karl.”

  She opened her jaw a few times, then reached across the bar and plucked the wad of cash from my fingers with her talon-tipped hands.

  “Thank you, Malina. I won’t forget this.”

  “Where will you go?”

  “My mother’s brother is beta to the Viper pack. I’m sure he’ll take me in.”

  “Got a pen?”

  She retrieved one from behind the bar, plucked a napkin from the dispenser, and handed both to me. I scrawled my mobile number onto the paper.

  “You have any problems, you call me, ’kay?”

  She nodded.

  I left her at the bar and headed into the crowd, looking for the man who owed me five minutes. He was leaning against the exit and zeroed in on me as I approached. It was quieter here, away from the frenzied fight spectators.

  “Talk,” he said.

  For a moment, I was stumped. I’d spent all my energy on getting this precious time and hadn’t thought about what I would say.

  “Four minutes.”

  Shit. I needed to say something, anything. “Look, you’ve met my dad Eamon. He’s a good guy, doing good work. He helps people in the city, saves lives. We need someone like you on our team. Someone strong and compassionate with a steady moral compass.”

  He snorted. “I beat supernaturals to a pulp for a living. Hardly moral.”

  “And yet, you tried to save me.”

  He fixed his gaze at a point over my head. “Three minutes.”

  Fuck. I was losing him. Without being able to tell him what I was, what Eamon’s key role was, there was very little hook for this guy. Revealing the whole truth wasn’t an option, but I could share part of it.

  “Look, I’ve done some bad shit, killed a lot of innocent people. Didn’t know they were innocent at the time, but that’s on me. I need something good to happen. I need you to say yes. I need something to finally go right in this fucked-up situation.”

  My pulse pounded in my throat, and I saw something—empathy, maybe—flash across his face, but it was brief. He pushed away from the wall where he’d been leaning.

  “Your five minutes are up.” Ajitah turned and walked away.

  I watched him leave, my stomach sinking.

  I couldn’t fail. There had to be another way.

  Without fully thinking it through, I slipped outside, pulled up my hood, and followed.

  It wasn’t as if I’d never tailed anyone before, but for some reason I was bloody nervous this time. He’d caved in order to coax me out of the cage, which proved to me he was fundamentally a decent bloke. But the way he’d flattened his opponent, and the absolute lack of emotion on his face, sent chills down my spine, even while I sat in the toasty-warm car.

  Ajitah was two cars ahead in a black people carrier—a beast of a car with three rows of seats to allow for extra passengers. We’d been driving for around thirty minutes via the North Circular Road. The Circle in Acton was behind us, and it looked like we were headed to Finchley.

  He had given me his response. Realistically, following him wasn’t going to change his mind, yet my gut urged me to continue. As we drove into East Finchley, my stomach grumbled, reminding me it had been a good two hours since I’d eaten. That, coupled with the energy I’d expended at The Circle, meant if I didn’t eat soon, I might just crash. Luckily for me, I was in the best place for a delicious takeaway—something I would deal with as soon as I knew where Ajitah laid his head every night. In the meantime . . . I reached into the glove compartment, pulled out an ene
rgy bar, and chowed down.

  It was no Kung Pao chicken, but it would have to do.

  Ajitah turned off the high street. I followed, losing my two-car cover. I slowed down, killing the lights and parking behind a blue Volvo. I spotted his people carrier parked four cars down. The house it was stationed in front of looked empty. Not a single light on. The door slammed, and a woman carrying a large handbag exited. Ajitah appeared on the top step as she clattered down them to the pavement. It was dark outside, but with my heightened senses, I could pick out enough detail to know she was on the other side of fifty. She clipped down the street away from me. Ajitah retreated into his house and shut the door.

  Okay. So I knew where he lived. Mission complete. Then why was I exiting the car and heading there?

  This was a really stupid idea.

  The front door was a navy-blue affair with a brass knocker, but there was no way I’d be knocking on that. The side access was more the ticket. Climbing over the wooden door that led to the back garden, I landed softly on the balls of my feet.

  There were plenty of lights on here, and a buttery glow spilled onto the grass, illuminating a swing set, a climbing frame, and a slide. This was a kids’ play space . . .

  Keeping low, I crept toward the house and pressed myself to the wall by the nearest window. Closing my eyes, I focused my senses. The clatter of pots, the sound of high-pitched laughter, and the distinctive aroma of . . . spaghetti bolognaise and something else . . . something sweet, sharp, and new.

  “How come he has more than me?” a child’s voice said.

  “It’s the same,” another child replied.

  “No, it isn’t. You got more sauce.”

  “Well, you both got more than me,” a third child’s voice said.

  “Just eat up, and you can all have seconds,” Ajitah said.

  Three kids? This I had to see. Holding my breath, I leaned across to peer through the window into a kitchen eating space. Three young boys, probably all around six or seven years old, were shoveling spaghetti into their mouths. Their dark hair, so like Ajitah’s, was tousled. Their green eyes sparkled, and their faces . . . Their faces were identical. Triplets. Bloody hell! Pots and pans lay on the countertop behind them, and steam hung in the air, giving the whole scene a warm, picturesque quality, except one piece of the scene was absent.

  Ajitah.

  My spidey sense tickled just before a thick forearm wrapped around my throat, jerking me away from the window.

  “I should kill you right now.” Ajitah’s breath was warm in my ear.

  I tried to swallow, but he was crushing my windpipe. He meant it; he was actually gonna kill me. My body went into panic mode as I clawed at his arm. But it was no use. The fucker was too strong, and his grip was too tight. Maybe this was well-deserved. Karma. I’d killed enough innocents to earn this ten times over, but my survival instinct wouldn’t let me give up. I thrashed and kicked and bucked.

  His arm tightened.

  Spots of darkness stained my vision.

  “Dad!”

  “Where’d he go?”

  “I’m gonna get seconds.”

  Ajitah froze, and then the pressure was gone and I was pressed against the cold, rough wall. His eyes glinted in the moonlight, his face too close.

  His voice was raspy. “I’m going to say this one last time. I. Am. Not. Interested. I don’t want to work for Eamon, you, or anyone else. I don’t give a damn about helping others or doing a solid for humanity. None of that shit matters to me, you got it? All I care about are my kids. Fighting at The Circle pays more than enough to take care of them. So go back to your boss and tell him if he harasses me again, or sends a pretty packaged minion to do his dirty work, then I will find him, and I will rip his head off.” He backed off. “And don’t even think about skulking back here again. We won’t be here. Now piss off before I change my mind and end you.”

  His attention went to the window, and I made a break for it, pushing off the wall and running for the gate.

  I ducked into Eamon’s car, hands shaking as I started the engine. He’d intended to kill me, would have killed me if not for the kids looking for him.

  I could have died.

  The engine flared to life, and I peeled away from the curb.

  I deserved worse, but I couldn’t help but be grateful for the reprieve. Now to deliver the news of my epic failure.

  17

  “Triplets?” Drake let out a low whistle.

  Was it my imagination, or did Eamon look paler than usual? We were lounging in the sitting room, Drake and I taking up the three-seater while Eamon occupied his spot in the chair. Toto lay with his head on my lap. The sun streamed defiantly into the room even though it was almost nine o’clock at night in the real world.

  “Eamon, is there something you’re not telling me?”

  He blinked my way and chuckled. “Oh, Malina, there are so many things I still have to tell you, but only when the time is right.”

  “Good to know, but I was referring to Ajitah.”

  His left eye twitched, and then he shook his head. “I think you’ve uncovered more about him in your single visit than I have in my three attempts at recruitment, although your methods are questionable.”

  “I just wish I’d been there to see it,” Drake said.

  Eamon shot him a scathing look, and Drake ducked his head sheepishly.

  “You could have been hurt,” Eamon said.

  “I was. Badly. But it was part of the plan. I healed, so it’s all good.”

  He blew out an exasperated breath. “I suppose you had it under control, but forgive me if the thought of my child in pain makes me a little crazy.”

  His child? I didn’t know what to make of his words or the emotions they elicited, so I pushed them aside and continued, “So what now? Ajitah is off the table. Do you have someone else in mind?”

  Eamon pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, but he comes with a mighty high price tag.”

  My muscles tensed. “Garuda?”

  Drake snorted. “Do we have to? He’s so . . . so . . .”

  “Unnerving?” I provided.

  “I was gonna say arrogant.”

  “Yeah, that too.”

  “Shit, it’s the naga thing, isn’t it?”

  I winced. “I’m dealing with it.”

  “It will get easier the more time you spend in his company,” Eamon said. “He is excellent at whatever he does, and we need the extra muscle. I’ll speak to him.”

  “Let’s hope you’re right.” I yawned and stretched. “I think I’ll get an early night, if that’s okay?”

  Toto jumped off my lap and headed for the door.

  “I swear that dog understands every word we say,” Drake said.

  Leaving them to discuss how they were going to get Garuda on board, I headed up the stairs to bed.

  A tray of sandwiches, juice, and a slice of cake awaited me on the dresser. My mobile phone was sitting on my bedside table, plugged into the wall by the charger Drake had promised.

  If I wasn’t careful, I’d allow myself to get thoroughly spoiled.

  My phone beeped a few times, signaling a ton of missed calls and text messages, all from either Carmella or Aaron.

  Shit!

  It was unlikely Barrett had filled them in on anything. I was in two minds about dragging them into my mess, but they were my best friends. Even though it had only been a few days, I missed them terribly. My finger hovered over the speed-dial button for Carmella, but my stomach cramped and grumbled. Fucking hell! Fine. Food first.

  I set to work on the stack of chicken, mayo, and cucumber sandwiches before draining the juice and demolishing the chocolate cake.

  Stomach silenced, I hit the button.

  The phone rang twice before it was answered by a breathless Carmella.

  “Malina!”

  “Yep, it’s me. I’m okay.”

  “Oh, God. Thank God!” Her voice muffled as she turned away from the speaker to talk t
o someone else. “She’s okay.”

  Aaron’s voice drifted through the receiver. “Give me the phone.”

  “One sec, Malina,” Carmella said.

  A brief silence. And then, “Dammit, Malina, what the fuck is going on?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Yeah, well, we’ve got time. Where are you? We’re coming to get you.”

  Okay, how to explain that one? Now that they’d heard from me, they wouldn’t relax until they’d seen me in person. I’d be the same if one of them had gone AWOL, but I couldn’t bring them here. This was Eamon’s place, and they didn’t have an invite. I needed to meet them somewhere safe, somewhere busy enough for me to blend in.

  “I’ll catch up with you at Loki’s in an hour.”

  “Usual spot?”

  “Yeah.”

  Carmella’s voice came down the line. “I can’t wait to see you. I haven’t slept a wink in days. You’d better have a damn good reason for pissing off like that.”

  I snorted. “Oh, that one I can guarantee.”

  We said our goodbyes, and I ended the call.

  So much for an early night.

  An hour later, dressed not to impress but to blend in, I ducked under the red rope into Loki’s. I hadn’t bothered with a coat, but despite the chill, there wasn’t a goose bump in sight. My body had changed more than I’d realized. Once Narada was under lock and key, and the shit had been cleaned off the fan, I’d take five and properly assess the changes. For now, I was headed to the bar at the back of the club where my friends would be waiting.

  I spotted them before they noticed me and was almost standing in front of them before they saw me.

  “What the—” Aaron jumped, his hand going to his chest in a feminine gesture that made me giggle.

  “Malina!” Carmella’s Gucci scent wrapped around me, soothing the nerves I hadn’t realized were frazzled until that moment.

  I hugged her back, tight, and breathed her in. It felt good to be home. These guys were home.

  Carmella pulled back and looked me over. “Is that a new foundation?” She reached up to touch my skin but pulled back, her hand trembling. “Malina, what’s happened?”