Mark of Love (Love Mark Fantasy Book 3)

by Linda Kage

  “Of course I know,” I growled, pressing the hilts of my daggers against his collarbone to shove him away. As soon as he stepped back, I lowered the blades and sheathed them with a huff. “I saw my family tear each other apart. My own mother stabbed my brother to save me, while my father charged her, only for his brother to murder him. I saw my grandfather’s head roll across the floor and my cousins claw out each other’s eyes with their bare hands. I know exactly what the curse does.”

  “God.” He winced.

  He reached for my arm with his manacled hands, his eyes full of sympathy and hurt. I stepped back, avoiding him.

  “But I took steps to make sure I couldn’t add to the damage. I shed my magic, I closed my womb, and you know what? High Cliff warriors still try to track me down to this day. To capture or kill me.”

  With a solemn nod, he admitted, “That doesn’t seem fair.”

  “No shit,” I muttered. “Because what about Quo and Quart who were killed? Did anyone stop to ask if they were willing to go through the same measures that I did to help stop the spread and avoid execution?”

  “I doubt it.”

  His honesty kept startling me. I would’ve thought a guy trying to get into a woman’s good graces wouldn’t be so quick to confess something he knew would piss her off. But then, a part of me appreciated his bold, ugly truth. He would never lie to me, would he?

  Dammit. That didn’t matter. I pushed my palms against his chest. He backed another step away, letting me have the small distance, but I only used it to get back into his face and be the aggressor.

  “So, what?” I charged. “It’s just easier to kill before we could do anything wrong than ask us a simple question first?”

  “No,” he murmured and shook his head. “It probably had more to do with the fact that no one else even considered the idea.”

  “How in God’s name could you not consider something so logical and right?”

  With a shrug, he said, “Ignorance. Fear. Revenge. A lot of High Clifters lost family members because of the aftereffects of a reaping. Hell, I doubt I’d be the sole survivor to House Moast right now if it weren’t for the Graykeys.” His eyes went sad and pained as he searched my face. “It’s hard to look past pain and hurt and anger sometimes and just calm down enough to realize you’re not putting a stop to something with your extreme reaction; you’re only making it worse.”

  “Oh, so you’re having a sudden change of heart?” People didn’t change their opinions that easily, and if they did, how could they be considered in any way dependable.

  “I don’t know about a complete change of heart,” he told me with a wince. “Something’s still got to be done about the curse, but there could be some better, smarter ways to go about it. I like the idea of trying to compromise and talk it out first.” Then he lifted a finger. “Except when it comes to Qualmer Graykey. I’m sorry if you’re close to him, but if I ever cross paths with him—”

  “Then you’ll have to wait in line behind me to kill him,” I said.

  Qualmer and I had never gotten on, not even when he wasn’t consumed by bloodlust. He’d been a bully who’d tormented me, killed every pet I ever had, called me awful names, and even tried to molest me once before Melaina had discovered us and saved my virtue.

  Across the camp, the High Clifter frowned at me in confusion.

  “I also have a score to settle with that specific Graykey,” I reported, lifting my chin a notch higher. “Qualmer killed my mother too.”

  Chapter 15

  Quilla

  Indigo hadn’t been lying. Graykeys really had murdered most of his family.

  And don’t ask me when I’d started thinking of him as Indigo. The more I’d read his journal, the more he’d become Indigo.

  But I wasn’t going to let him know that just yet.

  His family history was almost as sad as my own. His parents had been killed during the tenth reaping, just as mine had. His great-grandparents were assassinated in the ninth reaping. A distant Moast uncle and cousin were slain in the Great Lowden War following the eleventh reaping. Then his grandmother and beloved grandpa had died in a highly questionable accident by members of King Orick’s royal procession when they’d been traveling to High Cliff to sign a treaty, which never got around to being signed.

  He really had no love lost for my people.

  And yet revenge wasn’t his driving force. He might’ve kept impeccable records about the Graykeys and was still keeping track of them, but it didn’t take me long to realize Earth was his main obsession.

  From his notes, I realized his great-grandmother had been switched here from Earth when some Graykey had taken an amulet through the portal eighty-three years ago. He called the earthlings who were pulled here to take the place of a Graykey going there Replacements. Made sense to me, so I shrugged, going with it.

  The more he wrote about the stories his grandfather told him about her, the more I realized I knew who he was talking about. Her disappearance had been legendary on Earth when I had visited, even all those years after her disappearance. The urge to tell Indigo what I knew about her filled my tongue, but I swallowed it back.

  He’d love to hear what I knew, so I couldn’t tell him. I was still mad over learning about his involvement in tracking my people down. But I wanted to tell him, which made everything worse.

  What was wrong with me? I shouldn’t have any desire to converse with the vile man at all.

  Except I did.

  A part of him came through his writing that I hadn’t noticed before. He was thoughtful and thorough with his ideas. And even though he had more of a vested interest in wiping out my family than just about anyone I knew, he’d considered alternatives than outright genocide. In another list—I never would’ve taken him for being such a list maker, but his book was full of them—he had come up with different ways to stop Graykey destruction.

  His number one option had been to simply break the curse, but not a single living soul had any idea how to do that, so he contemplated putting all the Graykeys on an island, away from the rest of the Outer Realms, so they couldn’t hurt anyone outside the family. He’d come up with the idea for a register, so they could be found easily and quickly, then simply detained for a short spell whenever a reaping began, until the bloodlust was over, then released again. He’d even wondered if sterilization would work to stop more generations from emerging.

  But a sub-note under the list told me King Ignatius had nixed all these ideas, meaning Indigo had approached his king with more merciful solutions.

  Before ever meeting me.

  I glanced up. Why hadn’t he told me that?

  I glanced back down at the words that momentarily blurred before me. Maybe he didn’t think it would matter since he’d helped his kingdom track me down regardless. So no, he wasn’t perfect by any means. But maybe he wasn’t a complete soulless monster either. He was simply human with flaws, like anyone else.

  I’m not sure why that made my heart soften toward him in any way, but I’d always been suspicious of people who’d acted too pretty and polished and perfect. There was no such thing as perfect. It made me wonder what atrocities they were hiding. I’d just as soon know what their downsides were from the beginning. So it was nice to see upfront what lurked behind Indigo’s irritating, charming smile. It was even nicer that he didn’t try to make excuses or cover anything up once he was exposed.

  Not that I was thawing toward him.

  I was just noticing that he was different than I thought he’d be. That’s all. I still had no interest in having a true love partner.

  None at all.

  And the fact that I caught myself sneaking glances at him more often than I should meant nothing either. He was handsome; why shouldn’t I treat my eyes with some pleasant scenery? Didn’t mean that I wanted to know how it would feel to touch him, or if he smelled as nice as he looked. And the fact that I wanted to egg him into talking to me again was only because I liked the tenor of his voice; it
had nothing to do with being charmed by the things he actually said or the stupid jokes he told.

  Because I wasn’t.

  And why the hell wasn’t he talking anymore? Yesterday, and even this morning, I couldn’t get him to shut up. The man had rattled on incessantly, barely taking a break for air. But since I’d discovered his involvement with hunting Graykeys, he sat there as quiet as a tomb, looking miserable and distinctly uncomfortable while I read his book.

  He probably assumed I hated him now. I mean, I was apathetic, of course. He meant nothing to me. But seeing him look so defeated and miserable caused a slight stir of sympathy, or maybe it was regret, to waffle through me. It was a stupid emotion, whatever it was, so I immediately tried to squelch it, except he must’ve felt it anyway.

  He lifted his face, concern wrinkling his brow. “Quilla?”

  “Don’t say my name,” I snapped.

  Er, at least, it was meant to be a sharp, cracking snap. Except it came out sounding more like a breathless whisper. Dammit.

  Indigo blinked. “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t like how it sounds in your mouth.”

  God, why had I said the word mouth? Now I was thinking about his mouth. And looking at it, too. And remembering how he’d pressed it against mine just a while ago, all heat and passion and hard pressure, demanding and raging, making me crave more.

  Wait, no. I craved nothing from him.

  Except the jump in my pulse proved that was a lie.

  The bastard felt the need and energy and anticipation in my emotions, too. His lips quirked up into a sexy smirk just before he crooned, “Yes, you do.” Then he chuckled, and I absolutely hated how amazing the sound was. “I think you like it a lot.”

  “Yeah, well, you think too much. You should really stop that. Your thoughts are overwhelmingly ignorant.” My pulse jerked again with my lies. “They lead you to write this drivel.”

  I lifted his book, then turned it upside down before letting it fall to the ground, landing page-first in the dirt and rocks.

  A muscle jumped in his jaw. The man did not want his precious journal to be vandalized, that was obvious.

  But he didn’t comment about the abuse, he merely smirked and countered, “Really? You were reading it awfully ardently for someone who considers it drivel.”

  “I was skimming,” I shot back archly. “Trying to find something of interest. Which I didn’t.”

  He laughed this time, not to be confused with his deep husky chuckle. This was a full, open shout of pure amusement. It made a strange ache cramp the pit of my stomach, as if my gut experienced a desperate longing to make a similar sound.

  “I like the way you lie,” he finally told me, his eyes glittering and lips smiling wide as he spoke.

  I lifted a single eyebrow. “Lie?”

  “Yes.” He nodded. “It’s refreshing. People usually say something nice they don’t mean. But you’re the opposite. You say cruel things you don’t mean, and it’s highly entertaining. You don’t have to hide what you enjoy from me, though. I would never use your preferences against you.”

  “You’re mistaken, High Clifter,” I seethed. “I meant every word.”

  He smiled, but his eyes turned serious before he murmured, “Yeah. Maybe you do. Just a little.” Then he shrugged. “But that’s okay. It only makes you more alluring.” His gaze strayed to his book on the ground, where his brow furrowed a moment before he turned back to me. “I had no idea what to expect when I met you. But so far, I’ve been delightfully surprised.” Chuckling to himself, he leaned his head back against the tree he was sitting against and ended the moment with a long sigh. “Who knew I’d go for an angry girl who could aggravate me to the point that I’d want to kiss all the fury out of her one moment before she made me ache to pull her into my arms and hug the pain and sorrow out of her the next? You’re like a dazzling empress I want to worship constantly in every way.”

  I honestly didn’t know how to respond to that, so it was a good thing Melaina came cantering into the clearing, preventing me from having to.

  “Hello, loves,” she called, waving her fingers. “Doesn’t look like anything too fun happened while I was away. Hmm? What a tragedy.”

  With a chuckle, she dismounted, and the horse immediately trotted over to its last owner, nudging its muzzle against Indigo’s head.

  “Hey, girl,” Indigo greeted with a smile as he patted her neck and shoulder. “Been missing me, have you?”

  Melaina snorted. “Of course she doesn’t miss you. She’s just trying to tell you goodbye because she has a better owner now.”

  Shifting her an amused glance, Indigo pulled a treat from his pocket that the mare immediately sought, eating straight from his hand. “That,” he agreed slyly. “Or she knows where the good stuff is.”

  His unicorn/zebra thing suddenly appeared at his side, back in cat form. Meowing pathetically, the animal leaped into his lap, where Indigo good-naturedly pulled out a treat for her too.

  I rolled my eyes. He was too soft for his own good. People probably took advantage of him daily.

  Weak, I thought to myself as I pushed to my feet and focused on Melaina, even though something deep inside me didn’t agree with my own silent claim. Kindness could have its own brand of strength. A quieter, but deeper, and more loyal strength.

  “So I learned how he knows so much about Earth,” I announced, nudging his book on the ground with the toe of my boot, noticing him flinch when I bumped it too hard for his comfort. “His great-grandmother was born on Earth and was pulled here to take someone’s place when they went through the portal permanently.”

  I told her a bit about his history that he’d written. He’d lived in High Cliff with his parents until he was eight when the three of them went to Lowden as emissaries. They were only there a few moon cycles before the tenth reaping began, and both his parents were killed. I even told her it was her own son who killed them.

  Melaina didn’t seem shocked at all to hear that. Studying her nails as if bored, she merely shrugged. “Who hasn’t Qualmer killed? He would’ve taken out both you and me, his siblings, and Taiki too if I hadn’t stabbed him in the eye.”

  “Anyway,” I went on. “Indigo returned to High Cliff then to live with his grandfather, who was the earthling’s son. His grandfather told him all about Earth, and he calls the earthlings we trade places with Replace—”

  “Indigo, hmm?” Melaina cut in with sudden interest. Her eyebrows shot sky-high. “Calling him by his given name now, are we, darling? My, my. You two certainly did get friendly while I was gone. Maybe I missed something interesting after all.”

  “I snuck a kiss in when she wasn’t expecting it,” he was entirely too pleased to report.

  “Did you?” Melaina turned to him. “And how did that go?”

  Indigo shrugged, his grin rueful as he continued to pet the purring cat on his lap. “She didn’t kill me.”

  “Yet,” I growled. “I still plan to. When you’re no longer useful.”

  He grinned and blew me a kiss. “Kill me with kindness maybe.”

  Huffing, I turned away and focused on Melaina. “How were sales?”

  “Despite the anger and disdain you put into each loaf of bread you cooked, I was able to sell them all.” She upended a sack on the ground to let a pile of coins slide out and bounce across the grass. “I didn’t even let any of those parentless, little beggar brats that you would’ve let steal loaf after loaf abscond with any.”

  “You give free bread to orphans?” Indigo asked, gazing at me softly. “That’s sweet. I knew there was innate goodness inside you.”

  I sighed, determined to ignore him as Melaina sat before her bounty and began to count our proceeds. “Is it enough to make the ferry and canyon toll?”

  “Canyon toll? Wait, you’re planning on taking the canyon pass to Tyler?” Indigo demanded, butting in and refusing to mind his own business.

  I focused on my aunt. “We should stay here, get an early nig
ht’s rest, and put in a full day’s ride tomorrow, and then take the pass the day after that.”

  “Um, hello?” Indigo had gotten to his feet and was stepping between me and my aunt, lifting his bound hands and waving at us to signify he had something to say. “No,” he told me simply when I spared him an irritated scowl. “We’re not taking the canyon pass. It’s too dangerous. There are High Cliff knights guarding each end. They check every person that enters, and a glamour won’t hide your mark. Every arm gets watered down so they can see right past them.”

  “Calm yourself, sweetling,” Melaina told him with a charmed smile as she gathered the coins back into her pouch and cinched the bag closed. Rising to her feet, she slid her nails along his jawline as she explained, “We came up through that very same pass to get here and made it through just fine. We will this time too.”

  He blinked at her in confusion, even as he tilted his face away from her touch. “You did? How?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” she cooed.

  “Don’t worry about it?” he shot back, his brow furrowing into a deep frown. “You’re talking about taking my mate through perilous territory, risking her life, and you expect me to blindly trust whatever scheme miraculously worked for you once to actually work again? I don’t fucking think so. It’s too risky. She’s not doing it.”

  “Excuse me?” I cut in, stepping toward him and ready to relieve him of some vital piece of his anatomy for not trusting my own competency to evade execution. “You don’t make decisions for me.”

  But the bastard completely ignored me. “What’s so important in Tyler that you have to go there, anyway?” he asked Melaina.

  “Our ticket out of here,” she shot back, clearly growing vexed with his obstinance. “Forever.”

  With a bewildered squint, he demanded, “Out of where?”