Marked

felt alive. The horses pawed and moved impatiently. They seemed afraid. Their dark manes blew in the wind. Their bodies glistened thick with sweat. Maybe he should have been afraid too. They could sense something that he could not at the time. Damian was not a caring mentor. What good is power if you have no one to control? He wanted more than Marc’s allegiance. He wanted his utter devotion.

  The caretakers had done fairly well. They had preserved the castle in a state of suspended ruin. Damian’s wealth had grown exponentially in recent years, and plans were well under way to restore his home to its former glory.

  Marc looked around. His eyes searched the grounds. You could feel that there was history there. “What is this place?”

  “My home, Marcus.” There was a light to Damian’s eyes that Marc hadn’t seen before. This was something that Damian cared about.

  “You bought this?”

  Damian laughed. “I never sold it.”

  “What were you, some kind of prince?” Marc could not understand how something so massive was anyone’s home.

  “I have always been a warrior,” Damian answered.

  “Warriors do not often abide in castles by the sea.” Marc knew that this was no warrior’s home.

  “True, I was born nobility by blood. I was always a warrior by nature.” Damian did not name his family lineage. He never often spoke of it at all. He looked at his greatest accomplishments as his victory in battle.

  Marc noticed the paintings leaned against the walls, they were covered with cloths. “What of your family?”

  “I have none.” Damian was quick to answer.

  “I’m sorry.” Marc looked down, he wasn’t sure what he should say, or if he had already made a mistake in saying too much.

  “I’m not.” Damian smiled and looked Marc squarely in the eyes. “This gift has given me so much more. I have wealth, land, and power. What more could a man dream of?”

  Marc’s thoughts went immediately to Aimee. He let his back slide down the wall, and she sat there a moment on the cold floor before answering. “I once had the love of a beautiful woman. Have you ever been in love, Damian?”

  “I was married once, long, long ago.” Damian struggled over his words. Every time that he thought of it, the anger in him rose. He left the room abruptly, and walked out onto the courtyard. Marc did not ever bring up the subject of Damian’s marriage again. They spent the rest of their time at the castle speaking of other things. This had helped him to see a different side of Damian, someone who clearly carried a deep burden. Their friendship was strengthened over the course of their time there, and Romania was forever etched into Marcus’ mind.

 

  Along Came a Spider

  Aimee was shaken, and had taken refuge in a tiny diner near her motel. It was early morning, and the place was empty with the exception of a couple of truck drivers. Aimee walked straight to a booth in the back. She was overwhelmed, and beginning to think that coming to see Elsie wasn’t such a good idea at all. She ordered a coffee and stared into the cup as she stirred, a thousand thoughts stirring in her own mind. She missed Marc. She wished that she could feel his arms around her. Her hunger had subsided. She had broken her fast last night. Who was he, the young boy that she killed? She didn’t know, or even care at the time. She could see her reflection in the cup. She pushed it away. She was a monster. What had she done?

  “For me?” She knew that voice. He was standing over her. Damian sat down beside her, pressing her over toward the window.

  She couldn’t get out. She couldn’t go anywhere. “What are you doing here?”

  He took a drink of coffee and turned toward her. His eyes were piercing. She felt like he could hear her thoughts. “You know the answer to that.”

  “I’m not afraid of you.” Aimee squared her jaw. She would not let him intimidate her like this.

  He put his arm around her. She wanted to shove it off, but she knew that he knew that she was in fact, very afraid of him. “I beg to differ.” He looked deep into her eyes. He knew how to get inside her head like no one had before.

  Aimee did not soften her shoulders. She did not give in to him. “I am not something for you to control. I do not want anything to do with you.” The memories of their first life were fresh in her mind. He would not take her this time. He would have to kill her.

  “Surely you can see that with time, my view of our relationship has evolved?” Damian pretended that they were having a normal conversation.

  He spoke to her as if she knew him. She did not, and she did not want to. “Into what?”

  “Well love, of course,” Damian was almost pleading with her. Surely he wasn’t this delusional, “and also a great deal of admiration. I hadn’t dreamed of having the chance to watch you in this capacity. You have become such a beautiful predator.” He laughed as she dropped her head, ashamed. “What? You didn’t think that anyone saw you in the alley?” His voice taunted her. His eyes were so cold, and clearly amused.

  Aimee cast her eyes back down at the table. Tears filled them to the brim, but did not spill over. She tried to hold back her emotions.

  He continued, “I don’t blame you. It’s a terrible thing to try and suppress. I could feel your heart beat quicken. I could feel your need, your hunger. You liked it. You were fantastic to watch. It made me want you so much more.” His bottom lip relaxed as he described this sick voyeur moment.

  He would be a very handsome man, if he wasn’t the devil incarnate. He oozed sensuality. He liked to play with her emotions, to make her angry, to scare her, to make her admire him. All of it was about power. “I don’t have to justify myself to you.” Aimee finally found the strength to fight back the tears.

  Damian looked surprised. This was not the reaction he was looking for. “No, you don’t. I’m not trying to fix you. I don’t think you’re broken.” He took another sip of coffee, and then continued “Tell me, how long are you to live a lie?”

  “What lie?”

  Damian was beginning to get angry. He controlled his composure well, but she could see it in his eyes. “Have I not watched you masquerade as his wife long enough?”

  “I am his.” Aimee was adamant.

  “As much as you are mine,” Damian’s perfect composure began to break. “You have retained some memory of your time with him. You have taken back her name, but in the beginning you were mine. Think about it. He has lived but one lifetime. He remembers and seeks after the woman he loved, which was but one idealized incarnation of you. You have lived many lifetimes, but your soul was first joined with mine. Can you honestly say that you have no attraction to me? You are still drawn to me. I can feel it.” He ran his left hand up her thigh under the table.

  Aimee’s lips curled in disgust at the thought, and at the memories that slammed her. “I was never attracted to you.” She didn’t care what he did, she pushed his hand away.

  “Now, that just breaks my heart.” He hid it, but Aimee knew that her rejection hurt him in some small way.

  “You have no heart,” she answered with absolute certainty.

  He laughed to himself, amused by her insight, and the irony of its truth. “You have quite a passionate spirit.” If her goal was to provoke him, she had succeeded. He ran his hand back up her thigh, looking deep into her eyes. Then, his tone changed, darkened even further. He pressed in with his fingertips. The pain echoed through her, spilling tears down her face. He leaned in to her ear and whispered, “His persistence is nothing compared to what I will do. I will have you. You belong to me.”

  Meanwhile, Marc and Liam went straight to Elsie when they got to New Orleans. It had been a while since Marc had seen his good friend. She had been expecting him. She opened the door as they approached. “Come on in, Marc.” She looked over at Liam as he passed by. “What business have you here, watcher?”

  There was suspicion in her voice. She seemed to have more understanding of who and what Liam was than Marc did. She knew the nature of him. It was interesting that she
called him a watcher. He did mostly observe things, rarely intervening. In any case, Marc was unsure what it was that threatened Elsie about him. She was normally such an open and welcoming woman.

  Liam was cautious and respectful in his answer. “I am a friend. I am here to help Marc find her.”

  Ultimately, it seemed that Marc’s connection with him was enough to calm Elsie’s concerns. As she did with every guest in her home, Elsie led them upstairs and seated them at the table. “Can I get you anything?”

  They both declined. Marc had visited Elsie on enough occasions to know the intoxicating nature of her teas. Liam was, of course, very cautious in what he took in anyway. They sat down instead, quiet, and waited on Elsie’s direction. She lit the incense and sat down beside them.

  Marc spoke first, “I need to know where she is Elsie.”

  “She’s been to see me alright.” Elsie knew why they had come, and how grateful Aimee would be that they had found her.

  “Where is she now?” The urgency in Marc’s voice was well warranted, but Elsie wanted to make sure he knew the whole story before he found her gain.

  “She’s been staying at the motel down the street, but she aint been there for a while now. We found out some things, Marc, things that me and you need to discuss.” Elsie glanced from Mar to Liam. It was clear that she wasn’t sure if Marc would want Liam to hear this new information. She was leery of him.

  Marc touched Liam’s arm,