“It’s not stubbornness my lady… it’s me being a gentleman who wants to help the damsel in distress.” He countered, winking as he held up his gloved hands, “So what do you say? Will you allow me to introduce you to the gentleman my father raised me to be?”
K’s smile widened as she held out her arm for him to take. “Well when you put it that way…”
Chuckling lightly, Marko reached out to support her, but before he could secure his grip, K’s eyes rolled back into her head and she fell to the floor beside him. “K!” he exclaimed dropping to her side. Drenched with sweat and struggling to breath, K rocked back and forth on her knees. “What’s happening? Tell me what I need to do.”
“It… it’s to… too late.” She managed to between gasps of air. “M-my time is up.” Tears rolled down her cheeks as she held her hand tightly to her chest. “The fall d-drained what little blood I had left, my... my heart i… is going to st... stop.” No sooner than the words escaped her lips than K’s eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed unmoving to the floor.
“K, no!” Grabbing and shaking her cold limp body, Marko called to K over and over again to no avail. “Come on, wake up!” he screamed as his mind scrambled for a way to bring her back. But it wasn’t until his wandering eyes fell upon a large piece of glass that he knew without a doubt what he had to do.
Leaving K where she fell, he raced over to the counter and grabbed the small cup sitting beside the sink along with the largest piece of glass he could find. He then raced back to K’s side, jerked off his glove, and jabbed the jagged edge of the glass into his palm. Biting down on his lip to keep from yelling out, Marko then held the cup underneath the bleeding wound.
Once he had filled the cup to the rim, Marko ripped a thin piece of cloth from his shirt and wrapped it tightly around the wound. Then lifting K’s head from the floor, Marko cradled it gently in his arms. With trembling hands, he pressed the rim of the cup to her lips and poured the contents into her mouth. “Come on, K.” He coaxed, tossing the empty container aside, “I know you’re still in there. Now wake up… please.”
Time seemed to stretch on forever in the silence of the bathroom as Marko waited anxiously for any sign of life to return to the lifeless corpse in his grasp. In need of something to focus his mind on other than the feeling of helplessness he had over the situation, Marko returned to the sink and wet a towel. He then proceeded to wipe away the worst of the dried blood and was only slightly surprised to find that her body had already used his blood to heal the majority of the minor wounds.
By the time he had managed to return her to a somewhat normal state, small signs of life were beginning to slowly reemerge. He could feel some of the warmth returning to her frigid skin and soon a steady pattern had developed to the rise and fall of her chest. K, however, remained unconscious. Eventually Marko was forced to accept the fact that she most likely wasn’t going to reawaken any time soon, her body being too weak and too tired to do so. So rather than waste any more time on the cold bathroom floor, Marko ran his arms underneath her small body and carried her back into the main room; ignoring the confused stares of Simon and Will as he laid her gently down on the bed.
Once he had her comfortably situated beneath the covers of the bed, Marko stood and walked back to the door where Will and Simon waited anxiously. “Sir, what the hell happened in there?” Simon asked the moment he passed through the barrier.
“Yeah, why is the queen unconscious again and… what happened to your hand?” Will hesitated as his gaze fell upon the bloody rag. “Did she attack you?”
“I was stabbed by a piece of glass and the queen…” he hesitated, looking over his shoulder at her peaceful silhouette. “… her lack of blood caused her to black out again.”
“Wow.” Will exhaled following his gaze, “Lucky for you it happened before she could do any more damage than she did huh?”
“Yeah, lucky.” Marko mumbled edging his way past them. “I am going to head upstairs to get the physician to tend to the cut… the two of you stay here and alert me the second she awakes.”
“Yes sir!” the pair called back in unison behind him.
Waving his good hand over his shoulder, Marko wove his way down the halls as he slowly began to process the reality of what he had done. He had betrayed his king. He was a traitor. He had fed the queen his blood despite the fact his king had expressly forbidden it. Never in his life had he ever thought he would disobey his king, but at the time, when it all happened, feeding her his blood had just seemed like the most reasonable thing to do.
And so he did it, without a second thought or hesitation, he disobeyed a direct order of his king to save the life of the woman who his king thought betrayed him. And though Marko knew Mallok to be a kind and forgiving man, he couldn’t help but fear facing the ramifications of his actions. Because if there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that Mallok would eventually find out… he always did. And when he did, Marko could only hope that Mallok’s true feelings for K would be enough to allow him to forgive his betrayal.
Chapter 10
Maya sat across from the camp fire staring blankly into the flames as her fingers idly worked to remove the rind from an orange. Across from her Jaron, Jericho, and the others sat huddled together discussing and planning the next day’s travels just as they had done every evening since the group had left the Wanderers’ camp several days ago. Thanks to Jericho’s skillful guidance, their travels so far had been virtually uneventful, and he had managed to guide them into the heart of Lanoria without so much as seeing a single citizen. However, based on the raised voices and animated gestures radiating her way from the other side of the fire, she was fairly certain things were about to become much more difficult.
Preferring to let the men work out their disagreements amongst themselves, Maya tossed the mangled peel into the fire and shifted her attention to the lone figure standing beneath an old oak in the distance. Like a brooding statue he stood, staring out into the open field seemingly as lost in his own thoughts as she was in hers. Even from this distance, she could tell he was struggling with his demons, as he had been since his change back at Oasis. But even though she desperately yearned to go to him, to wrap her arms around his massive frame and offer him the comfort only she could give him, she dared not approach him.
Jarod hadn’t spoken more than a few words to her since they left Oasis, not even after her capture in the Wanderer camp when they had come to rescue her. Once they had been left alone inside the tent, Maya had braced herself, expecting him to yell at her for stupidly placing herself in danger when he had been against the idea all along. Instead, what she got was much worse. Taking up a seat in the corner of the tent as far away from her as he could get, Jarod completely ignored her. Not once that entire night, crammed in the tight confines of the tent, did he so much as look her direction or acknowledge her existence. Instead he chose to brood silently, staring menacingly at the opposite wall. And while she tried her hardest not to take it too personally, especially since he didn’t speak to anyone else in the group either, she couldn’t deny that a piece of her heart shattered when she approached to offer to help him with the darkness he was so obviously struggling with and he callously knocked her hand away.
But despite his coldness toward her, Maya couldn’t deny the feelings that his presence invoked in her. Even as far away from each other as they were, the mere sight of him had her heart immediately palpating in her chest and her body yearning to be closer to him. As if he could feel her eyes upon him, Jarod suddenly turned his head her direction and locked his gaze with hers. Narrowing his gaze, he displayed no signs of the desire for her that she held for him, and after a few moments of close scrutiny he turned his back to her and walked deeper into the field. Refusing to allow him, or anyone else, see show how much his rejection hurt her, she turned her gaze back to the dancing flames.
You’re such a fool, she chastised herself mentally as she shoved a wedge of the fruit into her mouth.
He doesn’t want to even look at you, much less be near you, and here you sit drooling over him like a love sick puppy.
“Mind if I join you?”
The voice startled her from her internal monologue, causing her to jump and drop her orange. As fast as she could blink, Jericho went from standing behind her to standing in front of her. “Sorry, didn’t mean to give you a fright.” He smiled, extending his hand to present her with her orange.
“No, it’s my fault. I wasn’t paying attention.” Reaching out to take the orange from his grasp, Maya sighed. “Thanks.”
“May I?” he asked again gesturing to the ground beside her.
Maya shrugged, not really feeling up for conversation she shoved another wedge into her mouth and faced the fire. Jericho apparently not taking the hint, moved to her side and took a seat, following her gaze into the flames. He remained quietly sitting beside her for several long moments, but when Maya pulled another wedge off the fruit and ate it, he finally broke his silence.
“Why do you eat it?”
Caught off guard by the randomness of the question, Maya frowned and faced him. “What do you mean? I eat it because it tastes good.”
“Yeah but...” He answered nodding toward the half eaten remains in her hand. “You don’t really need it to survive. And yet I have watched for years as Jaron has worked to reteach the Full-bloods to eat food again. I am just curious as to why.”
Raising her brows, Maya cocked her head to the side. “Do you only eat to survive?”
“Well, yes… I suppose.”
“Really?” She challenged. “So you have never eaten something for any other reason than to keep you alive?” Grinning up at him, she pulled a piece of candy from her pocket, “Because honestly Jericho, I am finding it hard to believe you and your people need Ms. Yasmin’s candy to survive.” Across the fire, Maya watched as Jaron stood up chuckling as he turned and headed across the field. Knowing he had been listening in on their conversation, Maya ignored him and turned her attention back to Jericho, who also had an amused expression on his face.
“Well then, apparently you have never eaten a piece of Ms. Yasmin’s candy.” He laughed, snatching it from her hand.
“Hey!” Maya protested as she tried unsuccessfully to grab it back. Easily dodging her attempt, Maya watched disheartened as Jericho managed to free the confection from its wrapping and pop it into his mouth. “That was mine, Criston gave it to me.” Crossing her arms, Maya slouched down in her seat.
Chuckling, Jericho threw an arm over her shoulder “Awww don’t be mad, I did you a favor.”
“Some favor.”
“I swear. That stuff is addicting, one bite and you would have been hooked for life.” Ignoring her disbelieving glare, Jericho continued, “Now let me make it up to you. Say a little piece of information in exchange for the sweet.” lowering his voice, he leaned in a little too close for comfort. “Wanderers never give anything away for free ‘sug,’ so always be sure you know the price of what you are taking before you take it.”
Frowning Maya pulled away feeling the need to put some space between them. “Are you trying to say Criston is expecting some kind of payment in return for a piece of candy?”
Jericho grinned widely, arching his eyebrows.
Maya gasped. “Well he better not. I never agreed to anything in exchange for what I assumed was a gift.”
“Did you ask?”
“Well no…” she paused, paling as her imagination ran amok with the kinds of things a man like Criston might want as payment.
Seeing her fear, Jericho chuckled, “I wouldn’t concern yourself too much, Criston likes you, so you are probably safe. Just, in the future be sure to always ask. My people believe it is the responsibility of both parties to know exactly what they are getting into before a deal is finalized. That being said, it’s not our fault if you don’t ask the right questions, because we sure as heck aren’t going to offer up any more information than is asked of us.”
“That seems like a very shady way of doing business if you ask me.” Maya grumbled, “Did it ever occur to you that it was this kind of thinking that gave your people their reputation for being swindlers and con artists?”
“I have no doubt it has.” Jericho smiled, unfazed by her snarky remark. “But it is who we are and we make no apologies for it. Everyone who employs our services knows exactly where we stand and how we work. And once the deal is made we never go back on our part… for a Wanderer our word is our life.”
“Which is the reason why we are here now.”
“Unfortunately, yes.” Jericho sighed, removing his arm from her shoulder. “A deal made by one member of the family, falls onto the backs of their relatives should they not be able to carry it out. It’s either that or risk being exiled from the camp until the bargain is complete or amends are made with the offended party.”
A moment of silence came between them as they both took a second to consider how much different things would be if it hadn’t been for the greediness of Jericho’s ancestors.
“Jericho, does it happen often? Being exiled, I mean.”
“No…” Jericho looking confused, hesitated. “It’s actually very rare that anyone is asked to leave, like I said everyone knows the rules and where they stand with us. It’s one of those things that draws people to the Wanderers. Our people are free to live however they see fit, as long as what they are doing does not negatively affect the rest of the camp in some way.” Turning back to face her he frowned, “Why do you ask?”
Maya stared at the ground, refusing to meet his gaze. “I-I think my mother might have been a Wanderer at one time.”
“And why would you think that?”
“It’s probably nothing… just me being foolish…” she paused, unsure if she wanted to continue.
Placing a finger under her chin, Jericho raised her head to face him. “I highly doubt it, you don’t strike me as a foolish person sweetheart.”
Maya smiled weakly. “It’s just that…When I was growing up my father would get angry a lot and call me and my mom freaks because we are different. And on more than one occasion I heard him threaten to report her to the patrols for trespassing, yelling that she was no better than the scum bags and lowlifes she was descended from.” Sighing, Maya closed her eyes and pushed away the memories of her abusive father. “I never really understood what he was talking about until recently when I learned there were others beyond the border.”
“And so now you wonder if we are the lowlifes and scum bags he was referring to?”
“Oh, no Jericho…” Maya countered a little too swiftly. The last thing she had intended to do with that story was to offend him and his people. “I swear I didn’t mean it like that! It’s just…”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Sweetheart slow down, its ok, you didn’t offend me. Trust me, I have been called much worse.” He laughed, before becoming serious once again, “But I am curious, why would your father call you and your mother freaks, aren’t you Full-bloods?”
“Yes, but we also have the ability to see things.”
Jericho’s eyes widened. “You mean like a Seer?”
“I guess. I mean, I had never heard of Seers, or Jumpers, or Night Stalkers until a few days ago, so if that is what they do then I suppose that is what we do.”
“And… you see things too?”
She nodded again, no longer afraid to reveal the truth of what she was since he had already admitted to her what he and Criston were. Of course, that came several days into their traveling, when she found out Criston had lied to her about everyone keeping what they were a secret from each other. In fact, Jericho nearly fell to the ground laughing when she finally got brave enough to ask how an entire village could manage to keep something like that a secret from one another.
That day Jericho decided it was time to reveal to them all, including Jaron for the first time, that he was what was known as a Jumper; a race of people with the ability to transport themselves from one place to anot
her over various distances. Initially Jaron had been livid, feeling deceived once again to know that Jericho had been coming and going from the camp, keeping tabs on them for years without being seen. But when Jericho quickly added that he had also been protecting the camp by leading away spies and dealing with the occasional nosey patrolman, Jaron reluctantly settled back down.
Fascinated, Maya asked Jericho if Criston was the same, since she had witnessed him vanishing and reappearing in different places. Shaking his head, Jericho explained that though their abilities seemed similar, he and Criston were completely different. Criston, apparently, was what was called a Night Stalker; an ancient race that had the amazing capability of manipulating shadows. So, unlike Jericho whose transporting was limited by walls and barriers, Criston’s power gave him the ability to move anywhere in the world there was a shadow large enough for him to fit through. But it was at night when the Night Stalkers ability was really at its peak, for in the darkness of the night, when the shadow of the world itself descended upon the land, Criston’s ability became limitless. Jericho even went on to add that while Criston’s people were semi-immortal, his good friend was only one of a handful of Night Stalkers still living; the rest having been hunted to near extinction by the other races who feared and envied their unique capabilities.
“That’s extremely rare.” Jericho’s voice interrupted her thoughts, pulling Maya back to the present. “Usually a child of mixed races tends to exhibit the abilities of only one parent. You are both very fortunate.”
“It didn’t feel that way growing up.”
“I see. You suffered for being different and now you are trying to understand why your mother might have left behind a place where you both could have been accepted?”
“Something like that.” Sighing, she dropped her gaze to the ground before her. “It just seems like she would have been so much happier living amongst your people than in the nightmare she ended up in.”
“Awww sweetheart, I wish I could give you the answer you are looking for, I really do.” Jericho soothed, “I am sure your mother had a good reason for doing what she did, it’s just that sometimes things happen that we will never understand and the best we can do is follow our hearts and have faith it leads us in the right direction.”
Forsaken (The Shadow Chronicles Book 3) Page 23