Seventh Mark (Part 1 +2) (29 page)

“
They are NOT gone,” Caleb hissed back. “There
are more and if this pack knew about you, rest assured, the others
know as well.” He scowled, his eyes burning bright blue. “Now, what
the hell did you do at the lake to those monsters?”

My anger evaporated. “There’
re more?”

Caleb was right, they
probably all knew about me or of the offspring of
Bentos. Suddenly this nightmare felt like it was just the
beginning.

“
What happened, Rouge?”
Michael’s calm voice strengthened me.

I flopped down onto the couch beside him, grimacing
as my aching body protested. “After Damon disappeared under the
ice, I ran back to the noise.” I turned to Seth. “Michael was
fighting them all off, but there were so many. Then one saw me and
came toward me. I didn’t think. The words were out of my mouth
before I realized.”

“
What words?” Seth curiously asked.

I had no idea if I’d even pronounced them correctly.
They were written in the Grollic book, in the part I don’t know how
to read. Curling my toes, I knew trying to explain it wouldn’t make
sense. “They…They just popped into my head.”

“
What words?” Caleb pressed.

“
Vilkacis
Diakonos
.” I glanced
around and held my breath, expecting to feel the weird static and
sonic boom again. Nothing happened.

“
Do you know what it means?” Michael
asked.

“
I do now.” I stuck my palm toward Caleb,
stopping him from talking. “Don’t ask me how.
Vilkacis
means Grollic-eyes.
Diakonos
means one who serves. It’s what Bentos said that
let him control those beasts.” I exhaled slowly. “Michael
saw
what happened when I repeated
them.”

“I felt
something. Like heavy static hit the air and zing through each of
the Grollics.” Michael turned to Seth and Caleb. “The Grollics
stopped fighting and just dropped to a sitting position.
Waiting…waiting for Rouge.”

“That’s when
you and Seth came,” I said, rubbing my temples. “I understood their
hatred for you. I could sense all of their emotions and their
frustration at me controlling them. They could do nothing.”

“But when you
spoke to them,” Caleb said. “It wasn’t English. You spoke in a
different tongue.”

What?
I looked at him
incredibly.
Impossible.
He had to be joking. I had spoken in English –
plain and clear. “Excuse me?”

“You weren’t
speaking English.” Caleb spoke as if I were slow.

“Yes, I was. I don’t speak
Grollic
.” My voice rose, but seeing
Michael shake his head, I grew confused. “I don’t know any other
language.”

“It’s the
language of the Grollic book. It’s from Bentos. He created it.”
Caleb spoke to no one in particular, but sounded so sure. “What did
you tell them, as we obviously couldn’t translate what you said?”
His tone was no longer condescending, only curious.

“They wanted to
attack but couldn’t…because of me. I felt their hatred for you and
how much they wanted to kill Michael, and all of you. It made me
mad, angry enough that I wanted them all dead. I told them to go
into the water where Damon had drowned.”

Seth started
laughing.

All of us
looked over at him.

It took a few
moments, but he finally got control of himself. Still grinning, he
said, “You're basically telling us that you told them to go jump in
the lake – as the saying goes.” He roared with laughter again.

“Funny, Seth,
really funny!” I stood. “Maybe I should tell you to go jump in the
lake!”

Michael started
laughing at my snide remark. Seth stopped his face serious and also
a little paranoid. “Wait, can you control us as well?”

I grabbed my
mug off the couch and drilled it at him. He ducked easily and the
porcelain mug shattered against the wall behind him.

“Apparently
your new talent has Caleb intrigued.” Seth pointed over to Caleb
who nodded his head.

“Great! Now I
really am a freak!!”

“Nah, sweetie.”
Seth chuckled. “It just makes you a bit more like us and a little
less human.”

No one
commented and the silence stretched out.

Suddenly, all I
really wanted to do was go home. To the pool house, have a bath,
and crawl into bed. Sleep sounded wonderful. The shock started to
wear off and my body began to ache from the bruises and cuts.

Michael sensed
my body’s reaction and lifted me into his arms as he stood.

“Caleb, Rouge
needs to get back. She’s exhausted and her wounds must be tended
to. You and Seth clean up any mess in the forest. The last thing we
want is authorities looking into what happened. Burn the bodies of
the dead Grollics and check the lake. Seth, double check for any
tracks – human or Grollic.”

He didn’t wait
for their reply. He simply walked out the door and carried me to
the Jeep. He set me gingerly onto the passenger seat and buckled me
in. He kissed my forehead before shutting the door and ran around
to the driver’s side. I couldn’t keep my eyes open and let my head
fall forward as Michael started the Jeep and pulled away from the
cabin. I wanted to tell him that I had put his Siorghra under the
driver’s seat, but utter exhaustion crept in before I could even
say a word.

I must’ve
passed out the entire ride back to the house… and then some. I
don’t know for how long, but when my brain became alert again it
was from behind closed eyes and the comforting of my own bed
underneath me. I heard the kettle steaming, moved against the firm
mattress under me, and then… soreness everywhere. My head, my neck,
my back and my shoulder.
Shoot, even the back of my eyelids
hurt
. I groaned and buried deeper into the soft blanket,
begging the pain to stop. Somehow I drifted into a restless
sleep.

Cool air danced
around me and with a floppy arm I lazily reached for the now
missing duvet. I fought to open my crusty eyes when I realized
Michael was carrying me. And I lay in his arms wearing only a tank
top and underwear.

“Michael, I…”
My breath escaped in a loud huff. Pain shot everywhere with each
movement.

He lowered me
into a bath full of wonderfully warm water. “Shh… Rouge. Just relax
and soak in the hot. It’s salt water. It’ll help your muscles and
clean your cuts. Grace is coming to help.” He kissed my forehead
and disappeared.

My eyes dropped
shut again, too heavy and sore to keep open.

Moments later a
gentle knock at the door and cool air against my damp skin let me
know Grace had come. I sensed her kneel down beside the tub.

“You silly
girl,” she whispered. “Why didn’t you let me go with you?” She
didn’t push for a reply. “I’ll wash your shoulder. It’s looking
pretty nasty. When you’re out of here we’ll bandage it
properly.”

A soft cloth
brushed against my arm as she dipped into the hot water. I gave a
slight nod.

“This is going
to hurt a bit,” she said and paused. “Can you slide down a bit
deeper and let the water clean the cut first?”

I arched my
toes and let my bum slide against the bottom of the tub. A cry
escaped my lips when the soothing water turned to burning acid on
my shoulder. My eyes shot open. “Holy Shi--!”

Grace poured a
cup of water over my head to stop the cascade of swearing escaping
my lips.

I sputtered and
spit the water out. The salt seeped into my cut lip and along my
cheek, making everything sting. I glared at her.

“Sorry.” She
grinned. “You needed to get rid of the dried blood out of your
nose, lips, and hair.” She shrugged and pointed at my face. “If I
were you, I’d avoid rubbing your lips or pressing them tight like
you are right now. They’ll take forever to heal and somebody’s
gonna wanna smooch those.” She paused then added loudly, “Yeah,
Michael. I’ll shut up.”

I smirked.
Point for Michael. “I can wash myself.”

“Fine. But you
can’t reach your back. Let me get the cut and dried blood cleaned
on that side. Lean forward.” She grinned. “Please.”

I nodded,
feeling better already and slid forward. “Wash away.”

Grace wiped and
dabbed. Her hand, even warm against the tub water, touched the edge
of my shoulder blade, close to my spine and near the bottom. She
rubbed the wash cloth over the spot a few times, pressing harder
with each stroke. “The dried blood’s not coming off.” She leaned
forward. “Oops, it’s your birthmark. Weird. It’s turned black.
Didn’t it used to be red, but now it’s… Oh. My. Gosh.” She gasped
and jumped back, her eyes and mouth open wide.

Then she did
the strangest thing, she sniffed the air.

What the
heck?

“Still
liquorice.”

“What?” I tried
to twist to see it, but everything hurt and I’d never been able to
see it properly anyway since it lay in such an awkward spot. I
reached awkwardly, trying to find the mark.

Blue eyes
bigger than I’d ever seen on her, she blinked rapidly. “It looks
like it’s been burned.” She straightened and dropped the wash
cloth. “I-I think you can do the rest yourself.”

I grabbed her
wrist before she could escape. “What are you not telling me?” I
spoke barely a whisper. My heart thundered against my chest. I
gripped her tiny arm with a strength I never knew I had.

Michael banged
on the door. “Is everything okay?”

I tugged
Grace’s arm. “We’re fine,” I called to Michael, and then mouthed to
Grace, “What?”

She grazed her
teeth over her bottom lip and then leaned forward, so close I could
feel her lips press my ear as she spoke, barely above a whisper.
“Yours is the same mark the Grollic has on their chest, by their
heart. It’s in the same spot, just on your back. By
your
heart.”

The Seventh
Mark.
Damon’s haunted words echoed inside my head. “It doesn’t
mean anything.” The words were false but I said them anyway. I
glanced at the door then back at her and shook my head.

“I won’t.” She
knew I didn’t want Michael to know—yet.

“I’m okay to
finish on my own.” I let go of her wrist and reached for the wash
cloth.

“You sure?”
Grace seemed relieved. “Let me grab you a towel and robe.” She
disappeared through the door and told Michael to make some tea. She
came back a moment later and set the soft fluffy towel and robe on
the counter. “Call me if you need help getting out.” She grinned
sheepishly. “Just so you know; the same still goes, ‘kay? I like
you for who you are, not the past.” Then she was gone again.

I sank back
down into the now cooling water.

Could Michael
have heard our conversation? My heart thumped against my rib cage.
Maybe he hadn’t paid attention and figured it was girl stuff we
were whispering about. Would she tell him? Or worse, tell Caleb? I
rubbed my temples. Her instant change in reaction worried me.
Needing a distraction, I washed and soaked until the kettle began
to whistle. I slowly got out of the tub. Using scissors from a
drawer I cut the tank shoulder straps and then carefully wrapped
myself into the bathrobe. Ugly purple, green and blue blotches
covered my body. The four jagged, welted lines on my shoulder
looked angry so I left the robe to hang off my shoulder and let
them air dry.

I like you
for who you are, not your past.
The meaning of Grace’s words
sunk in. She didn’t care. She’d risk everything to be friends with
the enemy, the forbidden.

In bare feet, I
padded back to the main room, and slowly lowered myself to the
futon bed. Soft and inviting. It eliminated my worries about
Grace—for the moment.

Michael walked
over carrying a tray and set it down on the bed beside me.

“It’s safe, I
didn’t make it. Emily made the soup.” He gave a quick smile. “I did
make the tea and it’s herbal, so I can’t really screw it up.” He
pointed to a little bear. “Just in case, there’s some honey.”

The soup
smelled good. My tummy rumbled in agreement. “How long have I been
sleeping?”

“All night.”
Michael reached over and grabbed a brown paper bag from the chair
beside the bed. “And most of the day.”

I glanced out
the windows. The grey clouds hid the sun so I couldn’t tell if it
was afternoon or dusk.

“Eat. I’ll fix
your shoulder.”

My heart sped
to an erratic rhythm again. “My shoulder?”

Gauze, tape and
bandages were dumped out of the bag. “I promise it won’t hurt.” He
lifted two fingers. “Scouts’ honor.”

Warmth crept to
my cheeks and face.

Michael
chuckled. “Feeling modest? Don’t worry. I’ll keep my eyes averted.”
He kissed me lightly on the lips.

Even his touch
didn’t distract me from my worry
.
If he sees my
birthmark. If he knows
. I held my breath.
If he heard what
Grace said, he’ll make sure to see it now
. I grimaced.

“Sorry.”
Michael quickly leaned back, obviously mistaking my facial
expression for pain. “I know it hurts, but we need to get those
wounds healed.”

He moved around
to bandage my entire shoulder and true to his word, kept his eyes
on my face, only double checking the tape. If he knew about my
birthmark, he never said. I’ll tell him another day, when I’m a bit
stronger. Or when I’m forced to tell.

I ate two bowls
of soup and drank the tea (with a spoonful of honey). Michael
cleared the dishes and then settled beside me.

“Do you think
the claw marks will scar?” A constant reminder of Damon.

“I don’t know.
It doesn’t matter, does it?” Michael said. “It’s just a mark.
Something to show where you’ve been and how you made it
through.”