A Mark Unwilling

by Candace Wondrak

  David looks over. “What’s wrong?”

  I pick the phone up and see in the top corner what got Mike so upset. “There’s no signal.”

  “Well, if I had any doubts about this being the end of the world, there they go,” David jokes, reminding me of the good times, before all this. “I’m going to miss my constant connectivity to people across the globe I couldn’t give two shits about.” He gives me a sad smile, and I return it.

  I don’t want to dwell on our fight last night, either.

  Something square pokes my side, and I look down to Josie, who offers me a box. I take it, reading the monopoly title, cat-version.

  “Can we play?” Josie asks, holding her hands together and giving me her best, sweetest face.

  I glance at David, who just shrugs.

  “Come on, David. Take a break. All that stuff will be there later,” I say, grabbing his arm. I lead us into the living room, where the Vampires stand, staring out of the window, amazed at the sepia sun and their non-allergic reaction to it.

  Eve slowly comes down the stairs, sitting across from us. Her eyes meet mine, and I see that she wears no makeup, and changed into a simple blouse and yellow pants. A little baggy on her, but more akin to what she’d probably wear if she wasn’t beyond rich. “I’ll play,” her voice is soft, quiet. Very un-Eve.

  I set the box on the coffee table between the couches, opening it and counting the pieces. “There’s one more cat.” I look to the Vamps, and then to Devil Jr., who studies the photographs hanging above the fireplace. “Who else wants to play?”

  Nat seems interested, but only comes to the couch beside my mom after Cloud gives her an amused nod. “I will play,” she states, rubbing her knees. Her tall frame bounces slightly; she’s nearly as excited as Josie. “I this one.” She picks up a metal cat figure, the one that is frozen in a lazy lounge, and sets it on Go.

  I distribute the other figures, and then the money. I shuffle the cards and set them on the board in their respective places. I hand the dice to Josie, saying, “You roll first.”

  The girl giggles and practically throws the dice on the board.

  We play for a while, and it becomes clear who’s out to win for themselves. David convinces Nat to trade for one of his properties—a cheap one, the cat that’s the first square after Go—for her Maine Coon, the best piece on the board. Eve struggles, going into debt in order to buy houses for her few properties. I team up with Josie, bailing her out of Jail and pitching in for hotels. Of course, when I land on them, she still charges me. What a little jerk.

  I’m about to make a joke about how, when we’re faced with the end of the world, we resort to a game of Cat-opoly, but a wave of nausea sweeps over me. A rumble echoes throughout the air, and I instantly look up, worried. No one else seems to have heard it; not even the Vampires with their super hearing. I look to Devil Jr., watching as he stares at me pointedly, moving into the kitchen.

  Giving the dice to Josie, I mumble, “Roll for me.” I hurry into the kitchen. “What was that?” I hiss, once I’m alone with him. “It sounded like…” Something big and scary, probably, but I let my voice trail off, not wanting to sound stupid.

  “A beast of the earth,” he replies.

  “Why were we the only ones who heard it?”

  All he does is lift his eyebrows, as if it should be obvious. Mark. Right.

  I remember Mike, out back smoking, and head through the house. I exit through the screen door, looking around. On the back porch, on the railing, sits a still-lit cigarette; not even half used. I am instantly worried. Returning to the house, I lock the door behind me and go to check the windows.

  David pauses in his turn, asking me, “What’s the matter now?”

  I hold his stare, aware that now everyone in the room is gazing steadily at me, even Devil Jr., answering, “Mike’s gone.”

  “Gone?” Nat says. “What you mean, gone?”

  “Hades commanded him to return,” Devil Jr. is the one to reply, and I wince the instant he says Hades.

  My mom takes on her usual snide expression. “You mean to say, you let him stay with us while he was still under control?” She blinks, aghast. “Of Hades?” Everyone knows who Hades is; the Greek god needs no introduction. “Wait. Hades is real?”

  When the room breaks out into an argument, I pull Devil Jr. aside. As I stare at him, I do my best not to dwell on my dream or my wake-up situation. I ask, “Is there a way to get rid of a Mark?” When he opens his mouth, looking haughty, I add, “Not for me, for Mike. I don’t want to go after him, wherever he is, if he’ll always be under Hades’s control. I thought…”

  “You thought Hades was finished with him,” Devil Jr. says. “You don’t know Hades well. He’s never finished.”

  “Is there a way to sever Hades’s connection to Mike? His power over him?”

  “If I tell you, what will stop you from not severing our connection? Mike is a plaything to Hades. You are much more than that.”

  I barely process what he says, simply trying to assure him, “I won’t. I just want my friends safe.”

  “Why even go after him? He doesn’t deserve your time.”

  “I’ll decide who deserves my time.”

  Devil Jr. stares at me for a long time, and his face is unreadable. “There is nothing you can do,” he tells me, his voice soft, reminding me of how he was in my dream. Just as my hope falls, he adds, “I will need some of his blood.”

  “Mike’s?”

  “No,” he says, stepping away from me. “Hades’s.” Before a fiery portal swallows him, he smirks. “You are fortunate I am growing fond of you and your foolish ideas.” And then he’s gone, leaving me to wonder just what he meant by that.

  Deb, who until now, remained quiet and watchful, moves beside me. “It’s okay, you know,” she whispers.

  I turn to her. Is she talking about Mike?

  “There’s something I have to show you.” Deb tugs at my hand, pulling me upstairs, to the room she slept in—a young boy’s room, its walls far too blue for my liking. A notebook sits on the nightstand, and she picks it up, turning to a specific page. Handing it to me, she says, “I drew it last night.”

  A pen sketching. The lines aren’t steady, and it’s not her greatest work, but I’m able to grasp what the picture reveals. Two certain people kissing; me one of them. Hands entangled in my hair, my eyes closed, head tilted back.

  I swallow hard, turning away. I shove the notebook back at her, saying hurriedly, “Don’t show that to anyone.” I storm out of the room, intent to sulk.

  “Lexa,” she follows me, saying, “why are you upset?”

  Standing in front of the bathroom, I spin to face her. “Why am I upset? That’s not what I wanted to see!” As if my dreams aren’t bad enough, not to mention the way he acted this morning—now I have to put up with Deb drawing me making out with my soul’s owner?

  “It’s okay,” she whispers, serious.

  I walk away from her, thinking, no…it’s not okay.

  With both Devil Jr. and Mike gone, I return to my game of monopoly to find that Josie is taking everyone’s turn. The game lasts for another hour. David, the sly cheater, wins. At least his mood improves. Mine doesn’t.

  And as night falls and the blood moon rises, it stays foul.

  The next day, when the sepia sun ascends, Darren meets me in the kitchen. No one else is awake, yet. “We need to figure out a plan.”

  “I thought we had a plan.”

  “We did, but then your master disappeared. So did Mike,” he tells me, as if I forgot. “And without any kind of wireless, GPS is out of the window.”

  “There is such a thing as maps,” I say, sliding into a chair.

  “Not in this house, or in the neighboring houses. Nat and I’ve looked.”

  As I wonder, where have all the people gone? I say, “Then we drive until we hit a gas station. They always have maps.”

  Darren nods. “We can do that. But my question is: how long do
we wait?”

  I don’t miss a heartbeat, “We don’t. As soon as everyone’s up, we’re gone. My…master will find me wherever we go. As for Mike, he might be a lost cause.”

  “So was Cloud,” Darren reminds me. “And you saved him.”

  “That was…” I’m about to say that was different, but was it? “It doesn’t matter. We’re not waiting for anyone. We go east until we find a gas station with maps. We’ll fill up, get some snacks, and hit the road—” As I say it, Cloud enters the room.

  “I’ve never been on a road trip,” he muses. “Although it’s also been quite a while since I’ve seen sunlight.” His pale frame is hunched over the sink as he stares out of the window, at the strange world outside. “Do you think I’ll get a tan?”

  His question makes me laugh; it also makes me feel a tad guilty for saying to leave without Devil Jr. and Mike. But it is what it is.

  We do what we have to.

  Chapter Twelve

  I’m about to tell everyone to get their butts into gear because we have to get moving, but a slight problem arises—I’m no longer in the house. David and Deb are gone; my mom and Josie are nowhere to be seen. I can’t even find the undead threesome of our party. I feel so terribly lost.

  I glance around, finding that I’m outside, in a lush, green field that seems to go on forever. My brows come together. How did I get here?

  I must say it aloud, because a voice answers me: “You’ve always been here, Kiddo.”

  My heart practically stops as I turn to face the voice. As I see him—his tanned skin, his combed-back brown hair, the genuine kindness in his eyes—I shake my head. Am I dreaming?

  “I’m afraid not,” Dad says with a smile, opening his arms seconds before I run into him.

  I bury my face in his chest, tears burning my eyes. “I thought you were…” I can’t bear to say the word, so I think of something else. “…gone.” My arms around him squeeze, and I feel him run his hand along my head, down my hair, tucking some stray parts behind my ears.

  “Of course not,” he says warmly.

  Pulling my head back, I study him. “How is this possible?”

  His arms slowly fall from our embrace, and he motions behind him. “Come on, Kiddo. I’ll show you around.” I’m not exactly sure what he wants to show me, since there’s nothing to his back besides the evergreen field.

  And then I remember.

  Ghastly, gruesome images flash in my mind as I watch him step away from me. He looks just like my dad. Feels real. Even smells like his favorite Klein scent. But he’s not. My read dad is dead.

  Behind me, a gust of wind alerts me to a portal’s presence. I turn my head over my shoulder to see Mike holding a curvy, greenish dagger. Very similar to the one he tried to kill me with. Through the mist, I see Mike stalk his prey. If it isn’t me he’s attacking, who is it?

  “Lexa,” my lookalike dad says my name. “It can be just us again. No Demons, no Mark. All you have to do is choose.” He holds out a hand to me.

  I stare heavily at his hand, wanting to take it, but I know I can’t. Turning to glance at the portal, I see flashes of who Mike stalks: Devil Jr. Could a dagger from Hades kill him? What would happen to me if he were to die?

  As I meet eyes with the man who looks and sounds so much like my dead dad, I inhale. “I’m sorry, Dad, but you’re already gone.” It hurts me physically to say the next part. “I have to go.” I step backwards, towards the portal. Unbeknownst to me, the field is no longer green, but a red, sandy wasteland. “I love you,” I add in a whisper before facing the portal.

  His final words cut through me: “I love you more, Kiddo.”

  I step through the portal, landing hard on my face.

  I pull myself up, frantically searching for Devil Jr. and Mike. Neither are around me. I stand, completely alone, in a hot, flattened area. Is it my parents’ house, my university, David’s shop, or the coffee shop? I don’t know. They probably all look the same, now. Flat, ugly, seething with heat and energy.

  I hear a footstep knocking a pebble over, and flip to face a ragged, out-of-breath Mike. Scraped with blood, he sends me a glare, wiping his mouth with the hand that holds the dagger. The weapon, I see, is covered in blood.

  “I’m sorry,” he says, lunging for me. Just as he’s about to reach me, though, he vanishes into smoke.

  All that tensing, all those three seconds of mental planning—for nothing. After I’ve already braced myself for his attack, I realize he’s gone. The wind whips at my face, and I frown. What am I doing here? Where even is here?

  The sounds of hooves force me to spin and come face to face with a white horse and its blood-stained, bony rider. His armor gleams even though the sunlight is strange; his bow made from muscle and tendons is risen and pulled back, aimed directly at me. The blackness beneath his helmet sends waves of unease through me, and I quickly go to move in the opposite direction.

  I make it no more than four steps when the earth below me cracks. The crack separates the ground, making me stumble back towards the white horse, tripping and falling on my backside as another horse gallops at me. Its mane and tail of fire laps at the wind, its body a strong, ruby red. The Horseman swings his fiery great sword, pointing it at me. Little fires remain on the ground even though there is nothing to be burnt, everywhere the hooves touch.

  A rotten smell enters my nose before I can stand, and I do my best not to vomit as the third Horseman rides up to my right. The animal’s black body is filled with rot, green and brown in places, skin sagging. Maggots crawl in its huge eyes, its hair sparse and stringy. The rider cocks his head at me, his broken jaw hanging lower with gravity. He lifts his decaying arm, the balance in his hands falling slightly down on one side. A mist of bugs fly from his mouth, hovering inches from me but not attacking.

  And, of course, to finish off the square of doom, the pale horse appears on my left. Its body zones in and out of existence, its rider staring squarely at me, unsheathing its ethereal blade and pointing it at me.

  They wouldn’t kill me before; would they try now?

  “Good to see the family’s together,” I say, voice wavering. It’s not every day one is faced with the four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. I think it’s understandable to be one hundred percent freaked out.

  When my voice breaks through the silence, the four horses trot alongside each other. Seeing one alone is terrifying; seeing all four together is…mind-numbingly nightmarish. I stand, watching as they lift their weapons in the air. A black mist forms, coating each rider and horse momentarily before sinking to the ground, behind them. A smoky portal opens in the ground, and a hooded figure rises, cloaked in metal armor with faces stuck in screams and expressions of horror. Together, War, Conquest, Death and Pestilence create an ethereal chariot of sorts, of which the figure stands. Sharp, metal gauntlets cover his hands, and he waves the chariot away. It fades from existence. The horses part in pairs, allowing him the space to walk through to reach me.

  Hades.

  I hold my ground, even though I really, really want to turn tail and run the other way. “If this is about not accepting your offer, I hope you don’t take it personally.”

  Beneath his hood, his face is entirely covered. With a flair for the dramatic, he lifts his hands and lowers his black hood. A man with brown eyes burning with hatred stares at me, a scowl under his short, auburn beard. If I had to guess an age, I’d say thirty; but I know he’s much older than that.

  A short, spiked crown rests on his wavy hair. He practically spits at me. “I would never offer my enemy’s plaything anything.” A cruel smile breaks the sneer. “Tell me, Mortal, where is your master?” He swings a hand to his left, and Mike appears, handing him a bloodied, curved dagger. With another wave, Mike vanishes without a peep. Hades brings the dagger to his face, breathing it in, watching me all the while for a reaction. “Not doing as well as you, I’ve been assured.” He taps a metal finger on the dagger’s point.

  He’s trying to be intimid
ating—and it’s working. Hades is playing me like a fiddle. Plus…he isn’t the voice that’s been offering to take away my Mark? Then who—no, it doesn’t matter. Not right now.

  “Where is he?” I ask, well aware of the fact that Hades owes me nothing. In fact, if his face is any indication, he hates me as much as he hates Devil Jr.

  “Ah, does the lamb care for the lion?” He laughs, a deep, unsettling sound that rumbles both his chest and the surrounding air. “Foolish mortal. You should run while you can.” Behind him, the Horsemen grow anxious, impatient.

  “And where will I go? I have a feeling your eyes and ears are everywhere.” I look past him to the Horsemen. “Not like I could outrun them, anyway.”

  He gives me a cold, jarring smile. “Perhaps I should end you here and now, and bring your mangled, disfigured body to your master. One final blow before I take Dagon’s soul for eternity.”

  So that’s Devil Jr.’s name—Dagon? If I make it out of this, he won’t be happy that I learned it from Hades. I say, “He doesn’t care about me like you’re thinking. Just trying to sow some oats.” I wonder if Hades understands figures of speech, unlike Devil Jr…Dagon, I mean.

  By the amused look on his face, he does.

  Hades walks around me, keenly interested in the point of his dagger. “Your master’s bloodline, though Fallen, remains close to its origins.” He stops in front of me, placing the dagger beneath my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “Do you wonder why you were chosen?” He draws the question out, “Let me word it this way: have you ever seen any female Seraphs?”

  “I don’t see what that—” My voice stops when he increases the pressure between the dagger’s point and my chin.

  “Just as Lucifer did, Dagon will take a mortal female, and she will birth a son.” Hades laughs at my stunned face. “Mortals in ancient times would be overjoyed to be in your position.” He lowers the dagger, and I rub my throat and neck, hoping he didn’t nick anything.