Seventh Mark (Part 1 +2) (14 page)

“Touché.” He
picked up a red chair, and set it down beside Caleb’s. He waited
for me to sit and then settled in the red leather with a pen and
blank notepad in hand. Reaching across, his arm brushed against
mine and sending goose bumps on my skin, he set the Grollic book in
front of me.

I watched his
face and smiled when a single eyebrow rose.

“What?” he
asked.

“Did Caleb
choose you to be his understudy or did you ask?”

Michael leaned
back. “Grace been filling you in on our history and boring
politics?”

“Yes and no.
Not boring.” I lightly poked his hard chest. “Now answer the
question.”

He grinned, and
then turned serious. “He didn’t ask me nor did I offer. It was just
kind of assumed. Caleb was the last to take an understudy – the
others chose who they wanted and he said he just waited till the
right one showed up.” He shrugged.

Now came the
tricky part. I had to ask about something I wasn’t sure I really
wanted the answer to. “Grace said she's expected to be matched with
one of the understudies. I thought you were allowed to choose who
you gave your Siorghra to?” I touched the necklace on my neck,
knowing I’d eventually have to give it back. I pushed the heavy
feelings away.

“We are.
Caleb’s just certain one of the understudies will be a match.”

“Are the other
understudies nice like you? Is there one you think’ll be good for
her? They’re not old like Caleb, right?”

Michael
sniggered. “We’re talking immortality and you’re worried Grace
might be too young?”

“I don’t want
her stuck with some miserable, old, bitter guy.” I swallowed, my
eyes darting around the office reminding me whose room, and house,
I sat in. “Not saying Caleb’s like that.”

Michael didn’t
reply—too busy laughing.

I picked up a
piece of paper, crumpled it, and threw it at him.

He ducked
before I’d even released it, tried to look serious for a moment,
and then laughed again. He straightened. “I’d
never
let
anything or anyone hurt Grace, and trust me, she’ll be with who she
wants to be with. She’s a big girl and can make her own decisions.
Nothing Caleb or I think will deter her from what she wants, no
matter how powerful the opponent.”

“Good.”

“Good.” He
smiled.

“What about
you?” I stared at my fingers. “Are there any sisters or family from
the other understudies Caleb wants you set up with?”

“Are you
jealous
?” He had a huge smile on his face, like he’d just
hit the ball out of the park.

“No! Well…
maybe a little.” I closed my eyes, wishing the burning on my cheeks
would cool. I blinked, looking right into his beautiful ocean blue
depths. “I just want to know what kind of competition I'm up
against.” There, I said it. I admitted I’d be willing to fight for
the guy completely out of my league.

His huge smile
got even bigger. “You’re one of kind! You’ve no need to worry about
anyone. They can get in line for someone else.”

“You know
you’re crazy.” I had absolutely nothing to offer. Just a silly girl
with no past and not much of a future.

Michael put his
hand on my chin. He leaned forward and kissed me lightly on the
nose. “I’m crazy for saying we should probably get some work done.
I’d rather not…but you know Caleb.”

I scrunched my
nose. “Okay, let’s get the homework done.”

He picked up
the pen. “You talk, I’ll write.”

“Should I run
and grab my laptop? I can type pretty fast.”

“We’ll be fine.
Caleb’ll prefer a handwritten copy, and we can add drawings or
notes as needed.”

I held the book
open for a few moments, trying to decide what to do. “Let’s compare
their Riding Hood story to yours.”

“Red Riding
Hood?” A sexy eyebrow rose again.

I shrugged.
“The Grollics aren’t wolves but the story seems pretty similar.
You’ve never made the comparison?”

He shook his
head. “I’ve never heard anyone make the comparison.”

“Maybe you will
after I read you the book’s analogue of what happened.” I read him
the story in the journal, amazed Michael could write so fast.

“Caleb’s going
to want to hear their side.” He tapped the end of the pen against
the notepad.

“History’s
complicated, don’t you think? One incident can be seen completely
different by ten people watching it unfold.” I wondered how Caleb
pictured the start of this feud. “Does each of the Higher Covens
have, like, a special task or job?”

“Caleb is
acting head. His temper is short but he’s a brilliant leader,
always three-four steps ahead of everyone. Seth, the one coming
this week, is similar. He’s lethal, cunning, and is very
passionate.” Michael chuckled. “He’s an excellent scout and has a
unique talent for hunting Grollics…and ladies.”

In that order?
“He hunts women?”

“He’d never
step outside the boundaries of our laws.” He grinned.

“You have
laws?” I couldn’t believe in today’s society no one had any idea of
Grollics or the ones who tried to find them.
Surreal, freakin’
surreal
. “He’s allowed to hunt women?”

“I’m teasing.
Women tend to like him and he has no problem with the attention.
He’s got a special talent with the female population.” Michael
waved his hand. “But we do have laws. We’re no different than human
society. Politics is politics. Without laws, there would be chaos
and disorder. Caleb is very serious about following the rules. He
has no tolerance for those who do not.”

If Caleb was
scary, what would more of the Coven be like? “Will it bother Seth
I’m here?”

“Nah…He knows
his place is behind Caleb and wouldn’t jeopardize anything to make
Caleb angry.”

“Caleb’s pretty
powerful, isn’t he?”

“Most would
never cross him unless forced to, and, honestly, he’s seldom
wrong.”

“Does he always
make everyone…so uncomfortable?” I tried hiding a yawn behind my
hand.

Michael
grinned, running his thumb gently along my jaw. “He doesn’t try.
You’ll see him differently one day. Fear and respect can sometimes
be interchangeable.” He brushed a stray strand of hair behind my
ear. “I think it’s time we called it a night. Shall I tuck you in,
read a fairytale, and put you to sleep?”

I yawned,
unable to hide it this time. “No fairytales! My favorite’s just
been turned into a horror film. I’m scared what might happen to
Cinderella if you tell me the truth on that one.”

Lying alone on
Grace’s bed, I tried to relax. She’d insisted on giving me some
privacy, and the amount of winking and nudging she’d given me
before leaving the room had me in jitters. I pulled the covers
tightly around me and forced my eyes shut, every muscle tight. So
what if Michael came in?
It’s not like you have to sleep with
him.
I never gone down that road and knew I wasn’t ready.

At the sound of
a knock, I jumped. Michael poked his head in and smiled when he saw
me. He walked in and closed the door behind him. He wore only a
pair of cotton pajama bottoms, and those seemed to show off his
sleek build even more. Shirtless, the tanned muscles from his abs,
his chest, and his shoulders, belonged on the cover of a
magazine.

He stood by the
bed, an amused look on his face most likely due to me blatantly
checking him out. I scooted to the far side of the bed, thankful
the sheets were cool, as I’d suddenly grown warm. He hopped on top
of the sheets and lay down, resting his hands behind his head as he
crossed his ankles. I couldn’t stop staring; he looked like a Greek
god. Change that, he made Greek gods look like poor, lowly little
boys.

He sniffed the
air. “You smell different.”

“I brushed my
teeth.”

“No, it’s not
that. I didn’t notice it earlier because of Caleb’s office but I
can smell it now.”

My face burned
a few degrees higher.
Grace, I’m so going to beat the crap out
of you.
“It’s perfume,” I mumbled. Would he still like me if I
murdered his sister? Mind you, it really wouldn’t be murder if
she’s legally dead already.

He inhaled.
“Pretty. What kind?”

How he kept a
straight face was beyond me. “Grace put you up to this?” I leaned
on top of his chest, tapping my finger where his heart rested. “The
truth.”

He chuckled.
“She may’ve mentioned to ask the name of your perfume.”

“She’s dead
tomorrow. Double dead.” I rolled off him.

“Hey, get back
here!” Michael pulled me back on top of him.

It knocked me
breathless, and not from his strength. I could feel his rock hard
chest underneath my thin pajama top. New, incredible sensations
coursed through my body, through my veins, in my stomach and lower.
The little electric shocks when we touched hands were nothing
compared to this. I searched his face for a sign that showed if my
body had given away any of its secrets.

He smiled and
kissed me lightly on the lips, keeping his eyes open. “I knew there
was something special about you that night in the cemetery.” He
shook his head. “What kind of girl goes running around dead
people?”

“Not many.”

“And you’re
still doing it.”

“Sure. ‘Cept
now, it’s a hundred times more interesting. Before, I just liked
the peace and quiet.” I interlaced my fingers on top of his chest
and rested my chin on them.

“Silly girl.”
He twirled a strand of my hair around his finger.

“You know,” I
swallowed and whispered, “I-I’d give you my Siorghra if I had
one.”

He pulled me
tight and kissed the top of my head. After a few moments, he spoke
quietly, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Ask away, I’ll
tell you anything you want to know.” My heart stepped up its pace a
few notches.

“What’s the
name of the perfume you’re wearing?”

I pretended to
shoot him a dirty look and slid away from him to settle on my side
of the bed. “I'm going to skin Grace alive tomorrow.” I rolled back
and punched him in the arm, grinning despite his uncanny ability to
ruin a perfectly good moment.

“You said you’d
tell me.” He snuggled against me and pushed his face under my
shoulder. His hot breath fanned my back as he chuckled. He popped
his head up. “Please?”

I rubbed my
face. “Fine, but you can’t mention it again. Or laugh.” I ran a
finger across his soft lips. “No laughing.”

“Scouts'
honor.”

“You have no
honor.” I sighed. “Fine. It’s…Eternity.”

He burst out
laughing, shaking the entire bed. “Sorry. I-I’m much b-better now.
Is this something you bought before, or after you met me?” He tried
to sound serious, but the bed still trembled beneath us.

“Way before.
It's going in the garbage tomorrow.” I debated about turning to the
wall and pretending to go to sleep.
It is kinda funny.
Not
that I’d admit it out loud.

“No, keep it.
Please. The smell suits you. I do like it.”

I didn’t reply.
It seemed like a great idea to dump the bottle over Grace’s head.
“It’s my turn to ask you a question.”

“Fair is fair.
Ask away.” He tucked his hands behind his head.

I chewed the
inside of my cheek, trying to pick the right question.
Fun’s
done, I want to know stuff.
“What happened…the night you and
Grace… you know?”

Michael lay
quiet. Then he slowly sat up and leaned over to turn the light
off.

Wrong
question.
Instantly I regretted opening my mouth.
Me and my
great mood killers.

He took one of
my hands in his and spoke in a quiet voice. "It was eighteen
seventy. I remember the exact date because Congress amended the
constitution so African-Americans would be allowed to vote. During
dinner, my father was ecstatic as he had always believed in equal
rights. He told my mother he believed women would have their right
to vote shortly as well. They were so amazing, my parents. You’ve
never seen loyalty and love like theirs. No Siorghra could ever
come close.

“It was early
summer, the strawberries had just come into season and their smell
hung in the air around the house. It was my mother’s favorite time
of year and after cleaning the dishes, she went to sit on the front
porch to watch the fireflies dance. My father sat in the living
room reading and journaling. Grace and I were in the back of the
house in the kitchen, playing cards, and if you ask her, she’ll
tell you she was beating me.”

He chuckled,
but it sounded forced. I lay without moving, afraid to hear what
happened next, but yearning to know more.

“I didn’t hear
them come to the house. You know animals when they hunt, quiet and
cunning as they stalk. Only, I have no idea if they were hunting
us, or if our plantation sat in the wrong spot at the wrong time.
If only they’d just passed us by. They must’ve smelled mother. She
barely screamed before it got cut off.” Michael shuddered. “It was
an awful sound. My father jumped up and ran to the front door. I
was halfway out of my seat when the door flew open and three
enormous monsters jumped in. Awful, devil-sent beasts. They killed
him like he was nothing.

“Four more came
in through the front with, you aren’t going to believe this, a man.
I was too shocked to even move. Grace whimpered and the beasts
heads p-popped up at the s-sound.”

The break in
his voice tore at my heart. I transported back in time, watching
the horror like a fly on the wall.

Michael
continued, his eyes shining. “I scrambled in front of her, not sure
if I would be able to protect her, but was not going to fall
without a fight. There was a knife on the counter I picked up. The
man spoke in some weird language, and… and the Grollics all dropped
to their haunches, as if waiting.