Marked by Power (The Marked Series Book 1)

by Cece Rose

  “She’s stalking him and making sure no girl goes near him in this place. There are some rumours going around,” Logan answers. I chuckle as Enzo uses his air mark to slam a book off the side table. It hits Logan in the chest.

  “Ouch, dickhead. I didn’t say they were true,” he says.

  “They aren’t true,” Enzo grits out and mutters something under his breath that I can’t hear.

  “Why the fuck are we all up on a Sunday, at five am?” Logan asks, and I look over to see him on his phone.

  “Crowe has training with Mr. Daniels at six. She doesn’t want to be late,” Enzo replies. Shit, how am I going to do class when I feel like this?

  “I feel like crap,” I reply, and he nods.

  “That’s what happens when people use the pain mark on you. I healed you, but you won’t feel good for a day or so. Stella’s most powerful mark is pain, she could have killed you and might have after you hit her. Stella will only see you as competition. You need to learn how to ward yourself,” Enzo says, his tone can’t be mistaken for anything other than a warning. I shiver as I remember the pain I felt, it was like being stabbed in every part of my body. I couldn’t focus enough to call any of my powers. I have a feeling I’m lucky Enzo was there and saved me. Again.

  “She used what?” Logan asks, getting out of his bed and coming over to stand in front of me. I freeze as he brushes a stray hair away from my face. His finger skims over my cheek as I take a deep breath. Man, this guy is hot. Why are there so many hot marked here?

  “I slapped her for speaking about Kelly like shit. What the hell was that party anyway?” I ask, my voice a little too high-pitched, and I inwardly groan. If Logan notices, he doesn’t say anything, and he moves away a little. I notice that Enzo has left the room, leaving the door slightly open. I didn’t even get to say thank you to the jerk.

  “Stella throws a party every year, only for higher ups. It’s a shit party, anyway. Kelly didn’t miss out on much,” he says.

  “Still. I hate how she looked down on Kelly for having two powers.”

  “It’s our world. Now come on, let’s go get some breakfast, and I’ll walk you to class as I’m already up,” Logan says as he goes to his side of the room and gets some clothes out. I turn around when he just pulls his shorts off in front of me. Boy, this guy is confident and from what I caught a glance at, he should be. I spot my shoes by the door and slip them on. I find my coat on the back of the door and feel the pockets, finding my phone, but it’s flat. Damn, Kelly must be worried.

  “Let’s go,” Logan says, and his hand slides into mine as we walk down the quiet corridor. I don’t question his hand in mine, not when I just saw what he looks like naked. Gods, I can’t stop thinking about his body.

  “What classes do we have together?” I ask, remembering he was one of the students Mr. Daniels asked to watch me.

  “Earth class. I was going to be in your pain class, but it clashes with one of my electives. So, unfortunately, Stella volunteered for that one. Ask Mr. Daniels to teach you how to ward, it’s easy, and I would show you if we had time,” he says. Great, more pain from the wannabe Barbie bitch.

  We don’t say much more as we walk through the quiet corridors, it’s strange to see it this empty, but I know it’s because everyone is still in bed. Where I should be. Fucking detention every Sunday.

  “Are the kitchens even open?” I ask, and he nods.

  “Yeah, they have food out twenty four hours a day now. The transmutation students get really hungry after a shift and some of those classes are at night, depending on what you shift into,” he explains as we go down the stairs. I wonder what I will shift into?

  We both grab our food when we get to the dining hall. I choose cereal as there is no cooked food at this time of day, and he gets the same as me. We’re munching on our cereal in companionable silence, when his phone goes off. He clicks it open and smiles at the phone, accepting a videocall.

  “East man, what are you doing awake?” he asks.

  “Kelly just came to find me, she can’t find Kenzie, and I’m—” he stops when Logan cuts him off.

  “Wait, no worries. She was in our bedroom last night, that’s all,” Logan explains.

  “What?” East shouts down the phone. I hear Kelly’s voice in the background, and I get up, walking around the table so I can see her.

  “You could have texted me, Kenz. I’ve been worried,” Kelly says once I can see her in the phone.

  “Sorry. It’s a long story, but I passed out. Enzo healed me and let me sleep in his bed,” I say, instantly regretting giving my explanation now over the phone. Shit, she looks even more worried.

  “You okay?” she asks.

  “Yeah, I’ll explain later. I’ve gotta go to detention. You know the one with Mr. Daniels,” I say, and she wiggles her eyebrows.

  “I’m sure he can make you feel better,” she says, making me laugh.

  “I doubt it, Mr. Daniels is a beast of a teacher. Everyone is scared of their classes with him, and no one has ever beaten him in a fight,” Logan tells me.

  “Shit, that’s impressive. What is he doing being a teacher if he has skills like that? He could work for the council,” I reply.

  “I heard his sister is a rebel, and that’s why he won’t work for them. He won’t hunt her.” East says coming back into view of the camera with a worried look.

  “Makes sense, I guess.”

  “Shit, we need to go. You’re gonna be late,” Logan says and turns the phone off before I can say goodbye. I look up at the clock, seeing it’s already ten minutes past six.

  Great way to make an impression Kenz, turning up late to your first detention.

  Chapter 12

  Kenzie

  I enter into the dark classroom and wonder where the heck the light switch is. It’s almost pitch-black in here.

  I feel across the wall blindly for the switch, when someone grabs me from behind and throws me. I prepare myself to hit hard ground, but instead hit a soft, cushiony feeling . . . a mat? A light flickers on, and Mr. Daniels is standing over me, holding a hand out.

  “You need to work on your awareness, Miss Crowe. Had I been an actual attacker, you would be dead right now,” he says softly, a satisfied-looking smile on his face. As if he finds that amusing. I’m seeing why Logan said that the other students are scared of him. He’s every bit a dangerous animal. I notice he is wearing gym clothes: light-grey joggers and a clingy, white t-shirt. No shoes on, and no glasses either. His eyes look even more enticing without his glasses on. I take his hand nervously and allow him to pull me up. The second I’m on my feet, he blasts me back onto my ass with a gust of air magic.

  “What the fuck!” I shout. “Why help me up just to knock me back down?” I question, feeling baffled at his logic.

  “You’re going to end up on your ass a lot today, Miss Crowe. In fact, for the rest of the year unless you improve,” he answers. The look of disdain on his face says just how much he thinks that is likely to happen.

  “Any reason you are knocking me on my ass? What kind of detention class is this?” I snap.

  “There are several reasons we are knocking you on your ass, Miss Crowe,” he says, offering out his hand again. I take it and stand, this time quickly moving as far across the room as possible to get away from him. He smiles somewhat devilishly at the sign of my quick retreat. “Better,” he says quietly. A gust of air hits me from behind, pushing me to my hands and knees. Fucking asshole. “But, my magic can hit you even if you do try and hide on the other side of the room. You need to be prepared to block my magic, to attack back.”

  “I barely know how to use any of my powers yet, let alone know how to block someone else’s! This isn’t fair,” I spit, standing up without his assistance this time.

  “Life isn’t fair, Miss Crowe,” he replies, not seeming the least bit bothered by my anger at the situation. “My job is to teach you just that, and other things. You wanted to know why you will be falling on your a
ss every Sunday for the next year?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I admit begrudgingly.

  “First, thanks to your twelve marks, you’re a target. You need to know how to protect yourself. Second, because falling on your ass is the best way to learn. And, finally, because we are going to see if we can trigger your twelfth mark,” he answers smoothly. I try and process his answers, feeling my heart beat faster at the mention of being a target, but something else sticks out more.

  “Trigger my twelfth mark? But, we don’t even know what it does,” I question.

  “Exactly. The headmasters have asked me to try and assist you in finding that out.”

  “And, knocking me on my ass is supposed to answer that question? Nobody knows what the bloody twelfth mark is!” I reply. “Me falling on my ass is so likely to change that, right?” I add sarcastically.

  “Yes, it will. Because right now, Miss Crowe, tell me how fast your heart rate is? Tell me, are you feeling panicked, can you feel the adrenaline running through you?”

  “Yes, but what does that have to do with the mark?” I ask, watching him slowly stalk closer toward me.

  “Marks can be triggered accidentally. Normally, when the person in question is feeling a surge of adrenaline,” he answers quietly. I go to respond, but he moves so quickly I barely register the attack. He’s grabbed me and spun me around, holding me locked against him, my back to his front. “We need to get your pulse racing, Miss Crowe,” he whispers in my ear. He pushes me harshly away from him, and I turn back around to face him feeling stunned. I notice that his white workout top is clinging tightly to his impressive body. I can think of a few better ways he could get my pulse racing.

  The sound of a throat clearing makes me look back up at his face, he raises an eyebrow questioningly at me. He wants me to attack, right? I can do that. I plant an innocent look on my face, as I’m thinking of the air mark in my head. I call on it, hoping it’s more responsive than it was last night. He gives me a curious look, and I feel the power answer me. Without hesitating, I direct it to knock into the back of his legs. He sidesteps my tiny gust with ease, like it would have knocked him anyway.

  “Damn it,” I curse.

  “You’ll have to do better than that,” he says.

  “Before you, you know, knock me on my ass again, can you please show me how to protect myself against pain magic?” I ask, remembering what Logan said earlier. He frowns at my question.

  “You won’t need that in your pain lessons for a few weeks at least, Miss Crowe, why would you like to specifically know that right now?”

  “No reason,” I answer too quickly.

  “You do seem a little worn down,” he says softly, approaching me slowly. He rests a hand against my forehead and closes his eyes, as if concentrating. I feel a slight wave of magic roll through me, a probing feeling.

  “What are you doing?” I ask quietly, not wanting to put him off and have him accidentally fry my brain or something.

  “I’m using my healing ability to sense for illness or injury in your body,” he answers stoically, opening his eyes. “Now, Miss Crowe, I am only going to ask you once, so think very carefully before you try and refuse to answer me.”

  “Um . . . okay?” I mumble, stepping back slightly.

  “Who the fuck used the pain mark on you? I know it couldn’t have been in a class, you haven’t had that lesson yet. Not that anyone in a class would be pumping that much juice into it,” he says.

  I think about it for a moment. There is no use denying it happened, but that doesn’t mean I need to tell him anything. I can deal with bitches like Stella myself.

  “I smacked someone, they used pain on me. I’m not telling you who, or why, it’s none of your business,” I respond, narrowing my eyes at him. Just daring him to try and push me on the matter. He takes me by surprise, when instead, he just nods his head slightly, as if accepting my answer.

  “Did you have a good reason for hitting them?” he asks.

  “Yes, I think I did,” I answer.

  “Well, considering their means of retaliation, I would believe it.” He sighs and runs a hand through his sexy hair.

  Damn it, Kenzie, stop checking your teacher out. I look away, trying not to stare at him any more than is appropriate to look.

  “Look at me, Miss Crowe,” he demands. I turn my head back towards him, and stare into his determined, green eyes. “You know what the protection mark looks like, yes?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I say, nodding. It would be hard not to, considering it’s on my skin.

  “Describe it to me, as you picture it,” he says softly, taking my hand in his. I shiver from the touch.

  “Um, it looks like a shield. A shield with an eye on it,” I say, trying to picture the exact image in my head.

  “Now imagine that shield in front of you, protecting you,” he softly instructs.

  “Okay.” I close my eyes.

  “Are you doing it now?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I answer. Suddenly I feel slight, tiny pinpricks stabbing into my hand. I gasp and try to pull my hand away from him, but he holds on tight.

  “Sorry, but you have to feel a slight pain to defend against it. Imagine that shield, call on your mark.” I do as he says, but still I can feel that same pinprick pain on my hand.

  “It isn’t working,” I moan.

  “Try to imagine the shield changing shape, imaging it growing, and surrounding you completely in a bubble. Tighten the bubble to your skin. Visualisation is key,” he coaches me on. I do as he says.

  “Still not working,” I mutter.

  “Call harder on your mark, the visualisation may have taken your concentration away from the mark itself.” I do as he says, and the pinprick pain stops. I open my eyes and smile at him.

  “Got it,” I say happily. He releases his hold of my hand, and I rub it with my other one, still feeling tingly.

  “You’re a quick learner,” he remarks, making me smile. I go to reply, when suddenly a gust of wind knocks me on my ass again.

  “You ass!” I snap, and then a mortified expression takes over my face. Oops? I wait for him to tell me off for back chatting, but he just laughs.

  “You really need to work on your awareness,” he says, and then laughs some more.

  Yeah, laugh it up now, Mr. Daniels. I narrow my eyes on him. I’m going to get you back one day, and it won’t just be you landing on your perfect ass.

  Chapter 13

  Kenzie

  Lying on top of my bedcovers stretched out like a starfish, I barely flinch as Kelly loudly lets herself into the room, clumsily slamming the door behind her.

  “Hey, Kenz,” she greets cheerily.

  I only groan in response. My whole body is aching. If I thought Mr. Daniels was going to take it easy on me after finding out that I had been zapped with pain, I was very wrong. We spent the next three hours with him effectively just knocking me to the ground a hundred or so times. He also was shooting jets of icy-cold water at me, which I was meant to dodge or block. My clothes were drenched, and my body was aching. I clearly did a sucky job at both of those things.

  “That bad, huh? Yeah, East was saying that he was a slave driver,” Kelly says with a laugh. East? When was she with East? I try to stamp down on the jealous feeling that rises in me. He probably mentioned it when she was looking for me earlier. But, why did she go to East to find me?

  “East?” I mumble, trying to make it sound casual.

  “Yup! Easton was talking for a good hour about how hardcore Mr. Daniels is, total man-crush I think. Logan and Locke were the same. They seem to worship him like a god,” she chatters away, almost mindlessly. I try to ignore the pangs I feel at her mentioning each of them. Do I like them, too? Ugh, play it cool, Kenzie.

  “Did they mention me at all today?” I ask, and then immediately cringe. Cool as a fucking cucumber.

  “Oh. My. Gods!” Kelly says, her voice excited. Oh no. “You like them, don’t you!” she accuses.

&nbs
p; “They’re attractive,” I grumble, wishing my bed would just swallow me whole.

  “You know I’m not into them right, Kenz? Even if I was, you’d have nothing to worry about,” she replies.

  “Of course, I would have something to worry about, you’re a knockout, Kells,” I say, and she narrows her eyes at me. I’m sure she is going to come back with some remark when my iPad starts buzzing. I groan as I roll on my side and grab it. I accept the Facetime call and two of my dads’ faces come into view, way too close to the camera. They’re so close I can just see two noses. Despite the fact they both have technomancy marks, they are useless with technology.

  “Move back guys, you’re too close,” I say with a small laugh.

  “Little Kennie! We miss you, baby,” Dad P says when they both move and hold their iPad a good distance away. I groan when I hear that nickname; they all call me it. Thank God that East doesn’t, he heard it enough. Dad P has wavy, blond hair, bright-green eyes, and a cheeky smile as he leans back a little. I know it’s likely he isn’t my real dad, but he has been in every way that’s possible.

  “Hey Dad!” I say, and Dad L replies to me. Dad L has short, black hair and a serious expression. I would assume he is my biological dad, but who knows? My mum has dark hair too. Ryan has dark hair too, but he has bright-green eyes, so I always guessed he might be Dad P’s son. I laugh when I see him being shoved out of the way by Dad M, who comes to sit in the middle of them on the sofa. Dad M has brown hair, it’s messy with curls, and he is built like a giant. Their nicknames are based on their names, Mike, Pete, and Liam. I look at all three of them sitting there smiling. Where’s mum?

  “How’s our little Kennie?” Dad M asks, leaning forward, so I can see his brown eyes in the camera.

  “All good. Everything is—” I start to say, but I’m cut off.

  “Don’t try that with me. We can all tell when you’re lying, Kennie and have done so since you were five, and you lied about who ate all the Smarties off your birthday cake, before your birthday. When were you going to tell us about your twelve marks?” Dad M says, narrowing his eyes on me in a way that tells me I’m in trouble. Shit, who told him?