Marked

Chapter 4

"Like hell I do. What I need is for you to get out of my apartment." She motioned to the door, exasperated.

He shook his head, running a hand through his hair before replying with, "Our fates are connected now. There's no argument. If you help me, it increases your chance of survival."

It wouldn't change anything. There was no way to defeat them, and he was kidding himself if he thought otherwise. She had heard stories of what they did to those who were marked– they would tear them limb from limb, bathing their home in blood, lapping it up like dogs. They had been known to drag out the kill, savoring each and every moment with the poor soul who had the misfortune of being their prey. They were cruel, wicked beings that had evil seeping from every pore, that delighted in suffering and boasted a gluttonous appetite that was only sated by one thing.

Still, she raised an eyebrow, spitting out, "And what could someone like you ever need from a mortal girl like me?"

"When I was marked ten years ago, I left home."

She tried to hide her surprise, and she hoped her face hadn't betrayed her. If he had been marked for that long... Maybe her chances of survival weren't as slim as she thought.

"I have worked very hard to ensure that everyone I knew thought I was dead, or worse. It is better for them to mourn me than suffer because of my presence. I can't step foot in the Fae region without concealment for fear of exposing my lie."

He looked up at her from the floor, and his eyes bore deep into hers. She met his gaze with a defiant look on her face, trying to mask the tiredness that made her eyelids heavy.

"Get to the point, or get out." She grumbled, ready to lie down and forget the impending doom that stood before her. Yes, she was in danger, but she was so spent that she would have to worry about it in the morning.

"The point is, that I need you to retrieve something for me. It will help me to restore the amulet to its full power, which may allow me to avoid the Daemon longer." He still hadn't explained what the amulet was, or what it did, but she knew that it had saved them at the last moment. He watched her, waiting for her to ask, not giving up a thing.

"And what is that?" She said with annoyance twinging her voice.

"I'll tell you when you agree to help me. If you do, I can survive for long enough to find out how to defeat them."

At that, she laughed. "Defeat them? No one in two millennia has even killed one. And you think you can beat six, or was it seven of them?"

He didn't speak for a moment, but there was a cold determination behind his eyes that told her he didn't think it was a joke, not even for a second. He was quiet as he looked at her, a muscle flexing in his jaw.

After a pause, he said, "I do." Then, he fell quiet again, seeming to mull something over in his thoughts.

She broke the silence with the question that was nagging at her. "Why me? How do you know you can trust me?"

"It's mutually beneficial for us to work together." He said it simply, like it was the most obvious truth in the world. He pushed off the windowsill and moved to the exit.

"Think it over. I'll be back tomorrow for the door."

Roe slept fitfully that night, waking up several times thinking that she had heard something outside of her apartment. The broken door did not prevent the wind from whistling through her apartment, waking her as soon as she'd fallen asleep. Nightmares plagued the sleep she did get, causing her to toss and turn and cry out into the night. The night seemed to drag on for an eternity– she'd stare at the wall blankly, for what felt like hours, until her eyes couldn't stay open anymore, only to be broken out of her sleep by cats fighting in the alleyway, footsteps from the people living above her, or chatter from a few buildings down. When she finally dredged herself out of bed the next morning, she felt more exhausted than the night before. She felt like she was dragging her muscles through mud as she dressed.