The Marked and the Broken Page 4

  “You are recovering from a stab wound,” he argues.

  “No, I’ve recovered from a stab wound. There’s a difference,” I tease.

  Ryker’s beautiful blue eyes fill with heat, and his full lips turn up into a dazzling smile that takes my breath away. He’s so incredibly beautiful both inside and out, and I don’t know where I would be without him and the others. I hate that they’re mad about this whole situation, and I desperately want to go back to all of us joking and having fun with each other. Maybe we can just run away from all of this drama and foreboding shit. Hole up on an island out in the middle of the ocean, where clothing is optional and our problems can’t find us.

  “Mmmm, Squeaks, you have no idea how much I’d love to disappear somewhere with you and discover how many times I can make you scream, but I want to take my time the next chance I get to play with you,” he whispers against the shell of my ear, and goosebumps speckle my skin. “When all of this shit that’s going on settles, you and I are locking ourselves in a room for a week. We’ll live off of orgasms and granola bars and be so noisy that no one else will be able to get anything done in the rest of the house,” he tells me, and I can feel the smile in his voice. “What do you think, Squeaks, are you in or out?”

  A loud laugh escapes my lips, and I think back to the night Ryker and I were first together and I laid down that same challenge. I press a hand against Ryker’s chest until we’re face to face again, and I place a tender and worshipping kiss on his lips. I tap on my soul, and it unveils the words that Ryker deposited that night. I pull back and stare into his bright blue eyes, my gaze radiating everything he means to me.

  “In. I’ll always be in when it comes to you.”

  4

  It’s dark when we land in Vitebsk. I’ve never been out of the country, and I was looking forward to taking in the unfamiliar geography of Belarus from the plane and car, but all I see is twinkling lights and shadowed silhouettes. It seems like there are a lot of trees, but it’s hard to identify details without the help of more light.

  “Have your passports ready, everyone. We need to get through immigration and customs quickly,” Aydin announces and then proceeds to hand me a passport.

  It says something about all the crazy shit that’s been running through my head this whole time, because up until right now, I hadn’t given any thought to the fact that I didn’t have a passport. I stare at the small blue booklet, confused for a moment, before I flip it open to find an unsmiling picture of myself staring back at me.

  “Where the hell did this come from?” I ask Aydin, who seems to be taking a headcount of our group like the responsible chaperone of a field trip would.

  “Lachlan had it made.”

  Someone pokes a head out of the cockpit, and Aydin moves up to talk to him. I’m left staring at his bulky back as questions and a shit ton of suspicion surge through me. The door to the plane opens, and my concern over why and how Lachlan had a passport made is drowned out by my eagerness to get the hell off the plane and out onto land again.

  The last third of the flight passed uneventfully, but there’s so much tension and anger floating around this plane right now that it’s stifling. I thought the cuddle party Ryker and I had going on would help the drama feel less stifling, but as the wheels of the plane touchdown on the runway, the grumbles, glares, and passive aggressive digs start up again. I blow out an irritated huff and rub my temples. The renewed bickering is bringing me dangerously close to losing it. I need air and time to figure out an effective way to deal with all of this shit, and as much as I’m trying to be empathetic and understanding, what I’m mostly feeling is fucking pissed.

  Clean, fresh air brushes past me, and it blows back stray locks from the bird’s nest I’m calling a messy bun. I pull the air deep into my lungs, and I can taste pine needles and birch bark on the breeze. The air is cool, and a hint of fog kisses the ground as we step off the plane and make our way to a small building.

  We’re through immigration and customs in no time, and the next thing I know, I’m being loaded into one of three black vans. I stare at the signs that look like they’re written in Russian as they flash by my window, and I peer hard into the dark night, trying to get a feel for what’s around me.

  “How you holding up, Little Badass?” Aydin asks, and I follow the trail of his voice to find him sitting in the front seat, his denim blue eyes fixed on me from over his shoulder.

  I didn’t pay attention to who else got in the van, but I’m surprised when I look over and only find Evrin and a driver. I let out a sigh of relief, and Aydin starts to chuckle.

  “The boys and Teo are in one van, and Enoch and his group are in the other,” he tells me.

  My brow scrunches with confusion at the name Teo.

  “Your wolf,” Evrin clarifies, when he sees the puzzled look on my face. “Mateo Torrez, he told us to call him Teo.”

  Understanding dawns on me, and I nod as the pieces fit together. I’ve always called him Torrez or Wolf-man or whatever. I never asked if he had a preference. I rub tired hands over my tired face. “What the fuck am I doing? I’ve marked a dude whose first name I didn’t even remember until you just told me, five other guys—two of which can barely even look at me—and I couldn’t begin to tell you what the fuck is going on with Nash, Kallan and Enoch. How the hell are we going to take on the big bad Adriel with this crew?”

  “We’re not exactly driving over to his house tonight and challenging him to a duel, Little Badass. You have time to set your males straight and get everything sorted. We need to do some reconnaissance, get a plan together, and a ton of other shit before we can make a move.”

  I snort. “They’re not goats, Aydin. I can’t just herd these guys in whatever direction I want them to go in.”

  “Can’t you?” Evrin chuckles.

  I shake my head at him and try hard not to let his cheeky smile become contagious. “Neither me nor my vagina are that fucking magical, Evrin.”

  The driver of the van starts to cough and pound on his chest. Oops, looks like he speaks English. A smile breaks open on my face, and I’m surprised I’m even capable of the movement anymore. I’ve spent the whole flight over here being pissed at my magic and its inability to keep its pants on. Or pissed at the guys for being stubborn pricks.

  “Just train them hard and get them all as ready as you can. They’ll work it out or take each other out. Either way, problem solved,” Aydin says casually with a shrug.

  I lean forward and punch him in the shoulder. He laughs and rubs his arm and then bleats like a goat at me. Evrin and I crack up, and I throw my hands up in exasperation.

  “They’re not goats!”

  Aydin winks at me and then faces forward as we turn off the road we’ve been driving down for a while. We’re surrounded by trees just like in Solace, but the terrain feels different. It’s flat, and the air is heavy with moisture that carries the cold deep inside of me. We drive up to a large white concrete wall. There’s a dark brown gate that smoothly opens as we get closer, allowing us through.

  My skin tingles as we pass through a magical barrier, and I shake off the feel of someone else’s magic on my skin. I look around as we drive forward. There are three buildings, all white with slanted dark brown roofs. The van drives toward the middle one, which also happens to be the largest. I don’t know shit about architecture, but the homes look somewhat French to me, or maybe European-cottage is more accurate. They have evenly spaced windows on what looks to be two-story buildings, and an arched entryway encompassing the front door. They look simple, sturdy, and at home surrounded by patchy grass and huge trees that hug the perimeter of the property.

  Silva appears at the front door of the middle house and bounds down a couple steps to greet the van. Wind picks up his curly black hair and forces it to dance around his head. I focus on his face and the frown line that appears between his dark eyebrows, and the way his caramel-colored eyes narrow as he counts the number of vehicles that gradually
pull up in front of the houses. The brakes of our van squeak slightly as we pull to a stop, and Aydin opens the door and climbs out. Silva opens his arms in greeting, and they both close the distance until they pull each other into a tight hug.

  Relief spills out from both of them, and I’m reminded that the last time Aydin probably saw Silva was just before he left the coven. Evrin slides the door of the van back and steps out to join in the greeting. I stay sitting exactly where I am, not ready to abandon the respite of the solitude just yet. Valen and Bastien step out of their van first and make a beeline for their uncle. They hug and joke with each other, but the lines around Silva’s eyes are tight, and it’s clear he’s not as happy as he’s pretending to be that they’re here.

  The rest of my Chosen join the twins, and Torrez slowly unfolds himself from what looks like the back seat. Immediately his eyes find mine. The windows on all of the vans are tinted almost black, and I doubt that he can actually see me, but it’s weird how his gaze lands on mine like that. I run the tip of my finger over my Chosen runes, aware that Torrez’s mark still isn’t among them. The five other guys’ heads snap in my direction, and I immediately pull my hand away from their markings, not meaning to have called them. Valen moves in my direction, but Silva steps into his path.

  “Aydin, you shouldn’t have brought them here, it’s not safe, and they’re not paladin yet,” Silva chastises as he pats Valen on the back.

  “I couldn’t exactly stop them. So I figured best to have them here where we can keep an eye on them,” Aydin defends, as Silva pulls Bastien into another hug.

  Bastien’s eyes flick back in my direction as he hugs his uncle, and I know my words about not trusting Silva are dancing around in his mind. The sudden need to reassure Bastien that he doesn’t have to choose fills me, and I slide out from my hiding spot in the van. I don’t care how mad I am at Silva, Bastien should know that he can love the uncle that raised him even if Silva hates me, even if I don’t trust him, and I would never expect otherwise.

  I haven’t even stepped all the way out of the van into the chill night when I hear Silva demand, “What the hell are they doing here?” and his attention is locked onto Enoch and his coven. “I told you specifically not to involve the elders; what did you two do?” Silva accuses as he turns to Evrin and Aydin.

  “We didn’t tell the elders, asshole,” Aydin informs Silva with an irritated glare. “They have a rune situation going on, and they’re here to train with Vinna.”

  I don’t miss the way Silva stiffens at the sound of my name or the way he looks over Enoch and his coven and then runs his eyes over the new runes that Bastien, Knox and Ryker now have. Silva turns to find me, and the disapproval and mistrust in his eyes lashes out at me like a whip. He says nothing as he stares at me, but I can feel the unspoken contempt he has for the fact that I’ve marked more casters and tainted them with what I am.

  Silva never saw my marking the boys as a good thing. Even after Reader Tearson explained that I was a Sentinel and that being Chosen was, according to him, an honor. Aydin’s words echo through my mind as he tells me about the lamia they tortured and the ominous warning he gave about me and what I am. I tell myself that this fear, this misconception, is what’s fueling Silva’s feelings and actions, but as I meet Silva’s glare and feel the judgment pulsating from him, I decide I just don’t give a fuck about the why behind his issues anymore.

  Maybe I’ve been trying too hard to be understanding of Bastien and Knox and the shit that went down before we came here, but I’m tired of trying to walk in other people’s shoes or giving them the benefit of the doubt if they aren’t willing to do the same for me.

  Fuck ’em.

  I shore up my walls and refuse to absorb anymore of Silva’s vitriol. I let my gaze fill up with my own disappointment. Whether he likes it or not, I’m with his nephews. It’s time for him to grow the fuck up and let go of his bullshit assumptions about me and see me for who I really am. It’s time he learns that he can’t pull this shit with me anymore. In the beginning I kept quiet, not sure where I fit and not willing to put a stop to the hate aimed my way if it meant risking the answers I was so desperate for. But I’m fresh out of fucks these days.

  “Word on the street is that two-thirds of your idiot brigade managed to get themselves caught and now need rescuing,” I say to him, my tone casual, but my eyes are bleeding just as much disdain and judgment as his are. “Want to fill all of us in on how you ended up here in the first place?” I ask, pushing for answers to the questions that have been churning inside of me since the sisters mentioned that Lachlan, Keegan, and Silva were here following some mystery lead.

  Silva’s gaze narrows slightly before he looks away and turns his displeasure on Aydin. “What the hell, Aydin?” he asks, giving him a pointed look, like somehow his real question isn’t obvious.

  I step toward Aydin, refusing to be dismissed. “What do you mean, Silva, you don’t need help? You’ve got things covered here?”

  He doesn’t say anything, and all I can do is shake my head at how ridiculous he’s being. Looks like all this time spent with Lachlan has pushed Silva even further into his dislike for me, although why I feel surprised and frustrated by that, I don’t know.

  “It’s cool, Silva,” I tell him when it’s clear he’s not going to speak to me directly. I walk back to the van. “Let me know when you’re ready to pull your head out of your ass and realize I’m probably your best bet at getting your coven back,” I tell him over my shoulder as I pull my bag out and move toward the house on the left.

  “Little Badass, where are you going?” Aydin calls at my back.

  “To find somewhere to crash.”

  “Those houses haven’t been opened up yet,” Silva informs me, abandoning the silent treatment he seemed hell-bent on administering.

  “I’ve stayed in worse places,” I tell him nonchalantly. “I’m sure as fuck not staying with you or anyone else incapable of getting over themselves.” With that, I shoot a look over my shoulder at Knox and Bastien.

  They both meet my frustrated gaze head on, neither one of them ready to back down yet. I shake my head and walk out of the halo of light the center house is providing and out into the dark cold of the Belarusian night. If they want to stew in their anger, that’s their choice, but they can stay with their uncle, who I’m sure would be all too happy to fan the flames of discord.

  Pain flashes through my chest at the thought that maybe Knox and Bastien might never come around. That maybe they’ll start looking at me the way Silva and Lachlan do. I let anger drop kick the hurt right out of my chest and steel myself. If this is all it takes to break their faith in me, then I probably never had it in the first place and I’m better off without them.

  I twist the knob to the front door of the dark building I’ve claimed as mine. The wood of the door sticks to the frame, so I shove my shoulder into it and force it open. I’m not sure what I expected, maybe dust and cobwebs all over, but it looks pretty clean past the stale feel of the place and the cold air that greets me from the entryway. I flip a switch to my left, and the lights blink on. The scuffling of feet sounds just behind me, and I turn to find Torrez.

  “So, Witch, or should I say Sentinel?” he queries, half his beautiful mouth turned up in a smile. I chuckle. “Yep, the guys filled me in on the car ride over. I always knew there was something different about you,” he taps his nose, and I reach out to flick it. “Where’s our room?” he asks with a sly grin as he dodges my assault.

  “Our room?” I ask.

  “Definitely our room. You need time to process, and I have no issue with that, but you’re mine now, and I’m yours. I don’t see any point pretending things are any other way.”

  I raise an eyebrow in question at his statement. He’s right, and I did just say anyone staying here needed to get over themselves, and I have no trouble admitting that applies to me too. He is mine. Which is exactly the way that I wanted it when I marked him.

  “Lead
the way, Wolf,” I tell him with a cheeky grin and a wave of my arm into the house.

  Torrez’s half smile morphs into a full-blown grin, and he swings a duffle over his shoulder and steps past me.

  His shoulder brushes against mine, and it sends a dusting of goosebumps all over my body. “Torrez?”

  He turns his deep brown eyes to mine.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” I admit.

  I raise my hand and brush the tips of my fingers against the black scruff on his cheek. His molten gaze takes me in for a moment before he leans into my palm. He turns his head and kisses the inside of my hand softly before moving down a hallway to our right.

  “Ooh bunk beds,” he shouts out from the room he just disappeared into. “You want the top or the bottom, Witch?”

  I laugh and follow him further into the house. The smile I’m once again wearing tricks me into feeling soft for a moment, hopeful. Maybe this won’t be the cluster fuck that I’m worried it will be. Maybe Valen’s right, and with a little bit of time, it will all blow over. Then the faint sound of arguing permeates the walls of the house, and I release a deep exasperated breath. Who am I kidding? This is going to be a fucking bloodbath.

  5

  I wake up cold, my cloudy breath in the air, my body just on the verge of a shiver. I crack open my eyelids. The light in the room is muted. It looks like either the sun hasn’t come up yet or just now dipped below the horizon. I’m disoriented and not quite sure if I’ve crashed for only a little while or if I’ve slept the day away. I’m alone, and I look around the room, taking in the piles of blankets strewn about the makeshift bed situation.

  Apparently, king size beds are an American thing, because the biggest bed we could find in this house was a full. Not satisfied with that situation, Ryker and the others pulled all the mattresses they could find off the beds and Tetris-ed the shit out of them on the floor of the biggest bedroom in the house. So now this room is absent of all furniture and has been redecorated with a very minimalistic and modern mattress floor.