Marked for grace, p.16
Marked for Grace, page 16
Ben’s movements were stiff as he rose. He set himself down on the arm of the couch to her right then rested his hand behind her when the others filed in the room.
Jenna followed behind Davis before she propped herself on Grace’s other side. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Grace inclined her head. “It’s almost like it was planned.”
Trevor dropped into the space to Jenna’s left with a thunk, shifting the couch back several inches. Elijah and Rodan took the two chairs across from them, the former crossing his legs, while Davis set himself on the edge of Gideon’s desk.
Gideon pushed up, strode across the room, and set the box of muffins on the coffee table between everyone, then returned to his seat.
No one made a move for them, but Grace was still ravenous and not about to let a good thing go to waste. Snatching up another one of the delectable treats, she caught Jenna’s eye as she leaned back. “Try the chocolate.”
Without hesitation, the other woman plucked one up herself, took a bite and sighed.
Elijah’s gaze narrowed on the two before his attention flicked to the muffins, then back up. “Grace, you requested this meeting. The floor is yours.”
Straight to it then. She cleared her throat. “I have a few points of contention,” she said. Ben stiffened. She broke off a piece of her muffin and popped it in her mouth. “What if I don’t give you my paycheck?”
Elijah folded his palms in his lap. “Offering half of your income is compulsory if you work or live off compound.”
Half. Her world tilted on its axis. It was the first time she’d gotten an official number—the worst number. That couldn’t stand. She had to fight it. “That seems a bit unreasonable given the circumstances, don’t you think?”
“The circumstance is that you’re a Shepherd.”
“But that’s not all I am. I came into this situation at a disadvantage. I have financial responsibilities that were accrued long before I learned about any of this. The other Shepherds knew what they were getting into when they accepted their debts. I didn’t. I would hope a reasonable concession could be made.”
“There are no concessions for either side. I do not make the rules, Grace, but I will enforce them.” The words weren’t a threat, but warning dripped off them like blood from a blade.
A headache thrummed in her ears while she did everything in her power to tamp down on the surge of emotions that threatened to erupt. She hated it so much. The Shepherds hadn’t done anything to help her, hadn’t done anything to earn that income. They’d just reached out to take it. Yeah, she’d ultimately be okay, not the best, but okay. Her hand twitched, begging to chuck the remainder of her muffin at him, but she threw her words instead. “Blind obedience never served anyone.”
“Those are the rules.”
She placed her muffin down. “What if I don’t like them?”
“You do not have a choice,” he said, his tone brokering no room for negotiation.
Fire coursed through her veins. “Is this why we’re meant to be taken as children? Easier to mold? Easier to control?”
He didn’t answer but offered her a pointed stare. His mannerisms were so muted, she couldn’t tell if he was angry or surprised, and in that moment, she didn’t care.
“Grace,” Ben cautioned.
“I’m still allowed to ask questions. I’m not under anyone’s jurisdiction yet.” The words hadn’t been unkind, more matter of fact. She glanced back to Elijah, waiting.
“You’re meant to be taken as children so you can be trained and readied for the war that will eventually come.”
“And what if I don’t want to be trained? What if I don’t want any part of your war?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “What if I don’t want to be Marked?”
“You do not have a choice,” he repeated.
“What would you do if I said no?”
His spine straightened while his jaw angled up. “We would rend your soul from your body.”
Everyone in the room shifted—everyone save Gideon, who sat unmoving. When her gaze found his, he offered her a subtle shake of his head. She treaded close to some imaginary line of disobedience. And while she wanted to fight more, if he suggested against it, it was probably a bad idea, monumentally bad.
She glanced at her lap. She loathed being forced into anything. Yes, if she’d have been given a choice between Heaven and Hell, the choice would’ve been easy. But she hadn’t been given that choice, and something about it was wrong.
Her shoulders fell. “Tell me about the Marking.”
Elijah inclined his head. “The Arillia Nephilim and Lesser Demons will gather at the catacombs to bear witness as I set the brands to your skin.”
God, she’d be branded like she was some piece of chattel. She scanned the others and their Marks. She supposed that’s what they were, property of one side or the other, at the Shepherd’s beck and call, required to submit to a will that wasn’t their own. Freedom was an illusion. Have a career, have a home, have as many dreams as you want, but at a cost. Believe it’s yours, but make no mistake, it was only a belief.
She flicked her nail. “Will it hurt?”
“It will sting.”
“Like the prick of a needle,” Ben added. His warm hand settled on her back and his thumb stroked a rigid line across her shoulder blade.
She nodded, the movement tight. Her gaze flicked to Gideon again. “Can they ever be removed?”
“No,” Elijah said. “The Shepherd Marks are permanent. Once they’re in place, there’s no going back.”
Irreversible. The Marks were irreversible. She’d be branded forever. No, not her, her soul. She swallowed around the lump in her throat, violently forcing that thought aside. She’d have to dwell on that horrifying truth later because the Agent had just offered her a half-assed opening she couldn’t miss. “Will a Marksman be the one to do it?”
“No. They do not come to us. Their identities are hidden to protect their charge.”
Well, that wasn’t helpful. How was she supposed to talk to one if they weren’t there? She’d have to see what she could do about that. “And what exactly is their charge?’
“They’re the gatekeepers. They’ve created all Marks from the beginning of time. They formed the link between our blood and the afterlife, all of it is their doing.”
If that was true, then a Marksman had to be involved with the new Mark on some level. That didn’t mean they were behind it, someone could’ve forced them or stolen their knowledge somehow. But the Mark had been made.
“Does anyone speak to them?” she asked.
Gideon’s head cocked infinitesimally.
“We have our methods of communication,” Elijah replied.
What kind of a nothing answer was that? Ugh! These people and their vague, half-replies.
“When is your next round of shifts?” the Agent asked.
Crap. How was she supposed to bring up the Marksman again without looking like she had an agenda? “I’m off the next four days, then start a stretch of five-day shifts.”
“That’s complicated,” Trevor complained.
“Maybe if you have the intelligence of a rock,” she mumbled.
Ben’s hand stilled while Davis choked on a laugh and looked down at his folded arms to hide his smirk.
Elijah uncrossed his legs. “I’ll set the Marking ceremony for ten days from now.”
A knot twisted in the depths of her stomach as she nodded then exhaled slowly. Ten days until she was branded forever.
“Did you have any further questions?”
She bit her lip, hard. Pain zinged across her mouth, which was good, because she needed to hold back the words that teetered on the edge of her tongue. She adjusted the blanket. “Am I supposed to dress a certain way? Wear anything specific?”
“I vote yoga pants,” Gideon drawled.
Her eyes flew wide as her head snapped his way.
“Back off, Gideon,” Ben said through his teeth.
The Head of the Lesser Demon Sect grinned, all confidence and secrets.
Elijah shook his head and looked to the ceiling like it might hold answers…or an escape. Probably an escape. “I would suggest loose or shorter sleeves to expose your forearms.” He offered the others pointed looks. “This meeting is adjourned.” Rising, he stepped forward, took a muffin from the box, and left.
Gideon tipped his head toward Grace when he proclaimed to the room as a whole, “She shouldn’t drive.”
She scowled as she folded the throw blanket, replaced it, and stood. Well, she tried to stand but instead, she stumbled and fell back onto the couch. Her scowl dropped, transforming into a grimace. Damn him for paying attention.
“You don’t need to concern yourself, demon.” Ben spat the last word like it was acid on his tongue. Taking Grace’s elbow, he helped her to her feet. “I’ll drive you.”
She hated to concede Gideon was right about anything, but her being behind the wheel was a crappy idea. “Alright.”
Ben grabbed her coat and purse then guided her across the room to the door.
When she glanced over her shoulder, Gideon’s gaze was fixed on her body. It roved up to her stare, and she raised her finger, offering him the rudest of gestures. The last thing she heard before his office door closed behind them was the thick, rich sound of his laughter.
Grace slipped her coat on as she ambled forward and kept her eyes on the devious icy patches of Bedlam’s parking lot. They threatened to take her down, but her dignity wouldn’t allow it. When she passed Ben her keys, their fingers brushed. “Thanks for this.”
His smile was blinding. “My pleasure.”
She turned to Jenna. “I’ve been thinking about your offer. If you’re still up for it, I’d love your help looking into my parents.”
A huge grin split Jenna’s face as she linked her arm through Grace’s. “Absolutely. I’m free Tuesday.”
“Tuesday works!”
“I’m so happy to have another girl in the Sect,” Jenna said, a bounce in her step.
Grace choked on a laugh. “There aren’t any others?”
She lifted her shoulder in a half-shrug. “There are back at the compound. I just…don’t feel like I have much in common with any of them.” Her voice pitched low. “They tend to stick their noses where they don’t belong.”
Interesting. And where exactly did their noses not belong? She would’ve asked if it hadn’t meant sticking her nose where it didn’t belong.
“I’ve never seen anyone challenge Elijah like that. It was great,” Jenna said. “I thought Trevor was gonna high five you.”
Grace’s face twisted. “Like, in the face, with his fist?”
Jenna snickered.
The other woman’s mood was catching, which meant Grace couldn’t hold back her smile. “I don’t know how well Elijah took it. I can’t read him.”
“He must’ve taken it well enough,” she said, voice firm. “I promise, you’d know if he didn’t. I think he likes you. You amuse him. I’ve never seen him accommodate anyone’s schedule before.”
That’s what she considered accommodation? Grace’s face contorted. “I’m glad, I think.”
Jenna gave her a squeeze before she released her. “You’ve been a very interesting mix-up to our circumstance.”
Ben edged closer, set his hand on the small of Grace’s back and guided her away. His shoulders were stiff when he tossed Trevor his fob. “You, Jenna, and Rodan can follow us.”
Trevor nodded.
Ben popped open the passenger side door for Grace. When he climbed into the driver’s seat, he grinned. “Alone at last.”
Her stomach did a happy little flip.
His posture was rigid when he faced her. “Did Ryczek hurt you?”
Her mouth dropped open. Her silence must’ve sent the wrong message because his hands fisted on the steering wheel, turning white as the bones strained against his skin. Reaching across the space between them, she rested her palm on his forearm.
“No. He didn’t.” He wouldn’t hurt her. That wasn’t Gideon, but Ben couldn’t see that. After what he’d been through with Leah, Grace couldn’t expect any less.
He offered a stiff nod. “I got us a reservation at Prime for our date. The earliest available was in three days.”
Prime? Wow. Her heartrate quickened. He’d pulled out all the stops. Not that she knew anything about the place other than it was fancy-schmancy and expensive.
“I suppose that means I’ll have to make myself pretty then,” she teased.
He started the vehicle, put it in gear, and pulled out. “Pretty would be a downgrade for you.”
The heat that warmed her cheeks was so intense it was a wonder she didn’t burn. They drove for a few minutes before the car slowed with the heavy traffic. She glanced at the clock—too heavy for the time of day. “What’s with this gridlock right now? We’re past rush hour.”
“I have no idea.” He shifted as he tried to see around the vehicle in front of them. “Looks like an accident up ahead.”
The flashing lights of emergency vehicles came into view. Police, fire, and ambulance were all on scene. The cop’s tape quartered off the area and narrowed the flow down to one lane.
Her instinct was to jump out and help, but there were already plenty of hands on deck. The tires crunched as they rolled past, and it gave Grace a clear line of sight to the havoc that’d been wreaked. Her heart sank.
Several people sat on the sidewalk crying while an officer stood above them, notepad in hand. Skid marks tracked across the road leading to a car whose hood had a body-sized dent and a fractured windshield. A bicycle with thick tires for winter riding sat mangled on the ground nearby. About thirty feet ahead, a black tarp covered the cadaver outlined beneath it.
At the trunk of the car stood a soul—the cyclist. It had to be. The woman was somewhere in her forties with short hair done in a pixie-cut. Two forgivable sins sat emblazoned on her forearm. Grace’s gaze lifted then froze when it landed on the new Mark. Cold, liquid dread streamed through her, rushing to every corner of her body until it was consumed.
Grace had learned virtually nothing in her hunt for answers. If she wanted to make progress, it meant speaking up to either get help or dump it in someone else’s infinitely more capable lap. Still, she had to be smart. Telling the Shepherds she knew what the Mark did was a bad idea. Super bad. But nothing could be done about the damn thing unless it was confronted.
If the rogue Shepherds in Trenton were right, the others wouldn’t see the Mark, but she had to try. She crushed the strap of her purse in her grasp to steel herself.
It’s now or never.
She trembled slightly when she pointed, and her head swivelled back to Ben. “What’s that?”
He glanced past her toward the accident, eyes pinched at the corners. “What’s what?”
“On the soul’s chest.” She lowered her arm, settling it in her lap and wringing her hands. “I’ve never seen that Mark before.”
His brow furrowed. “I don’t see anything.”
Traffic stopped, so he leaned over, and his shoulder skimmed hers when he looked. He shook his head. “Sorry, Grace.”
Her lips pursed. She couldn’t let the opportunity pass. She needed to know, to gauge. “Can we call the others? Ask them?”
He rubbed his chin. “Grace—”
“Please, Ben.”
He sighed, sat up, pulled his phone from his pocket then handed it to her. “Call Rodan. Put it on speaker.”
The terror she’d kept at bay reignited with a fury as it burst to life like an accelerant-fueled fire. Her fingers shook, which made hard work of the buttons. When the phone finally connected, its ringing pulled her focus.
“What’s up?” Rodan answered.
“Hey, it’s Grace. Have you guys reached the accident yet?”
“We’re coming up on it. Why?”
“It was a fatal.” She cleared her throat. “The cyclist’s soul is there. She has a Mark on her sternum. I’m wondering if you can see it?”
There was a pause. “What?”
“It’s circular and red with a crucifix, something that looks like a fox, a tree, overlapping rings, several other symbols I don’t recognize and Latin script at the center. Do any of you see it?”
He was quiet another moment before he relayed her words to Trevor and Jenna.
“What’s going on?” Ben rolled them forward as traffic started to move.
Rodan must’ve heard him because he answered, “Hold on. We’re just passing it now.”
Trevor's muffled voice carried from the other end. “What the hell is she talking about? There’s nothing there. Christ. She’s fucking crazy.”
“Don’t be an ass,” Jenna snapped.
Grace’s teeth ground together. She doubted he’d be so brave if she was within crotch-shot range. The image of him doubled over in pain brought the ghost of a smile to her lips.
“I’m sorry, Grace,” Rodan said. “We’re not seeing anything.”
That smile fell. They pulled far enough ahead that the soul disappeared from sight, and she faced forward again. Dammit. “You need to do a Calling,” she told Ben, because she did not want to leave the soul there. Just in case. She couldn’t take that chance.
Ben eyed her askance. “Why?”
Shit. “It’s just…if we don’t know what it is—”
Trevor scoffed. “What’s this we shit? There’s nothing there.”
Channeling her inner Zen, she caged the violence that fought to overcome her. Well, mostly caged it. It still struggled to break free as it rattled that enclosure.
“Enough, Trev,” Ben growled then glanced her way.
Her eyes creased at the corners. “Please, Ben. I don’t like leaving it there.”
He loosed a heavy exhale, then inclined his head. “Get in touch with one of the others at the compound, Rodan. Tell them to do a Calling. I’ll send it through as soon as I get there,” he ordered, and retrieved his phone from her, ending the call.
