CHAPTER FOUR

 

I dragged my feet to school. Kids talked, lockers slammed, and the bell rang. The sounds of my normal day droned on like white noise. Continuing to my locker, I grabbed my books.

Although my mark was covered with a thick coating of make-up, I felt exposed. Not knowing what was happening made me twitchy. I grabbed my books and walked to class as the bell rang. My hand pushed the door open, and the teacher shot me a dirty look. I walked quietly to my seat.

Mr. Tanner was a squat man with stern features. Getting excited made his face turn red and his jowls shake. Sweat stains made his once white shirt dingy, and his Dockers clung on for dear life, under his enormous gut. “Tardy. That makes two,” he waved a sausage sized finger at me. “One more and you’ll be spending the afternoon in detention.” Marking his book, he grunted.

If this happened a year ago, I would have been horrified. But now? I didn’t care. The sniggers would stop in a second, and they’d all forget I was here. Except for Jenna Marie. She was in every freaking class with me. I think it was some divine joke—putting the pink princess next to the Goth girl. Well, I wasn’t really Goth. I just wore solid black a lot. The dark color suited me. 

Slouching in class, I watched the clock tick slowly, counting the minutes until the bell. I made the motions as I went through the day, trying not to talk to anyone. I was moderately successful.

Jenna Marie didn’t care that I didn’t want to talk. She talked enough for two people.

“Pink would be a great color on you, Ivy,” her voice was perky. Perky irritated me. Sitting ramrod straight in her seat, she sat across the aisle from my desk.

Starring straight ahead I mumbled, “I like black. Thanks.” Talking about my monochromatic wardrobe was a daily ritual for her. This was what I got for getting to class on time. I’d rather sit in detention. My eyes drifted up to the clock, watching the second hand tick one tock at a time. I prayed for the bell to ring.

“But you have such pretty hair. Those beautiful, hazelnut curls would just pop with pink! And you wear black every day.” She frowned at me. “I haven’t seen you wear another color in over a year. It’s time to think pink!” Looking at her, my eyebrows rose in incredulity into my hairline. The bell rang, and snipped off rude words that had formed on my tongue.

When class ended, I sprang from my chair to avoid more pink talk. Shouldering my way out the door, and into the hallway, I paused when Collin came running up behind me.

“Hey Ive!” he called.

“Hey,” I answered, looking up at him.

We fell in step and navigated the crowds of kids, open lockers, and the nerds that were always running somewhere. “What’s going on?”

Shrugging, he said, “Same old stuff. I just wanted to tell you to wait up for me after school.” Arching an eyebrow, a smile spread across his face. Bouncing on his toes, with his hands behind his back, he said, “I have something for you.”

“Sure,” pausing I added, “You didn’t. Did you?” I cocked my hip as my head automatically slanted. I sighed. “Remember? No birthday presents? Geeze Collin.”

Celebrating didn’t feel right, not this year. My birthday was forever connected to the worst day of my life. And after last night, I just couldn’t.

Her voice filled my ears before I saw her face, “Awh, the little virgin said she doesn’t want your present Collin. I’ll take it.” Nicole Scambotti wrapped herself around Collin. He smiled at her. They dated on and off for the past few years. He seemed to like her as much as any of his other groupies. She was part of his flavor of the month club. At the moment it was ginormous boobs on a blonde bombshell frame, with a snarky mouth.

I sneered at her, as I pulled my books tight to my chest. The “little virgin” nickname was my own fault. Collin took me out one night, and I partied a little too hard. Everyone was there, including Nicole. Collin watched me lose control, as I let the glorious numbness flood me. After dancing, I saddled up with some guy I didn’t know. We had an embarrassing public make-out session that I barely remembered. The part that I did remember was his hand sliding up my shirt. It thrilled me, and it felt so good to feel something, besides pain. I let his hands linger, but when he went for my skirt, I slapped him away. When he didn’t stop, I yelled. Collin pulled him off of me, and Nicole started making virgin jokes every chance she could.

Collin pulled away from her, and spoke softly in my ear, “There are worse nicknames.”

I glared at Nicole, speaking loud enough for her to hear me, “Yeah, skank is way worse.”

The bell drowned out Nicole’s pointed response.

Collin pulled her to class, saying over his shoulder, “See ya later. I’ll meet you at your locker.”

I waved to him, and walked off to class.

Collin liked helping me forget my troubles, and I was always up to my neck in them. Sometimes he would take me to the beach, and we’d sit near the surf. The sea washed the waves in and out, in a hypnotic rhythm that soothed me. Collin would sit next to me, quietly. Something about the sea and the wind made me feel free, like I wasn’t trapped in my life. But when things got really bad, I needed more. I started partying, and Collin was always nearby. He didn’t stop me, but he kept me out of trouble. My other friends didn’t like him for it, but I did. He let me live, and grieve without judgment. 

After I while, I noticed that all the things that haunted me melted away around him. And the real Collin, the one no one really saw, was unsure of himself. The uncertainty was alluring. It made me wonder who he really was; the confident guy that walked around like he owned the school, or the shy version that was so deeply hidden that I wasn’t sure if it really existed. Collin never made a pass at me; aside from the first day I met him, which was all right because I didn’t want to date him. The groupies alone were a health hazard.

That was before my life took an unexpected turn, and fell apart. While the virgin title was still accurate, it wasn’t uncommon for me to suck face with some guy I didn’t care about. I threw myself at strangers to ease the hole in my chest. I pushed away the guys I actually liked, too afraid of the pain it might cause.

My pace quickened when I saw Eric in front of me, about to walk into the classroom. “Eric,” I called. “Wait up.” I fell in step with him.

“Hey Ivy. Ready for more biology fun?” he asked as I caught up to him, saying nothing of last night.

 “Yup, as always.”

Eric had a way of stating the obvious that made me want to smile. He was simple, but in a good way. He was my tether to normal. At least I thought he was. I sat in bio listening to the directions for the next lab. My mind kept tugging me back to last night. My fingers absentmindedly drifted to the mark on my forehead.

I sighed. Eric glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. I ignored him, knowing we couldn’t talk about it now. Waiting sucks.

I shifted my pencil restlessly, between my thumb and index finger, as a nervous sensation crawled up my throat. I always took notes with a pencil, so I could draw if class got too dull. The yellow stick twirled over each finger with a swift grace - before it flung out of my hand, and pegged the kid sitting in front of me in the back of the head.

The jock shifted in his seat and turned to glare at me. I mouthed, Sorry. Eric looked up from his neatly printed notes, and laughed. Two minutes until the bell rang. Thank God. I rolled my eyes, and leaned my head on my hand. Staring at the clock, I watched the black hand jerk, and the bell finally rang. The teacher spewed reminders about assignments. I quickly grabbed my books, and looked at Eric, waiting for him to tell me what we were doing.

He closed his book, and stacked his papers neatly. My books had papers sticking out the sides like bunny ears. Organization wasn’t really my thing. Eric seemed a little too neat to me, but he was the reason I wasn’t failing the class, so I didn’t needle him about it.

Eric turned and reached under the lab table in front of us. He held out my pencil, smiling. I took it. “Thanks. I thought Bret was gonna kill me.”

“It’s only because that was the fifth time you’ve pegged him with a pencil in the past month.” He picked up his books, and I chased him out of the room.

“It has not been five times!” I squeaked, unable to contain my grin. As we rounded the corner, I saw Collin leaning against my locker. I turned to Eric and asked, “When can we talk?” Slowing, I touched his arm, and he stopped.

Eric looked at Collin and then back at me. “I’ll walk you home. Let me grab my stuff.” It felt a little awkward, but I agreed. Collin and Eric glared at each other. Ignoring them both, I went to my locker.

Collin’s arm slid over my shoulder, “Hey Ivy. You ready?” He spoke loud enough for Eric to hear. I watched Eric round the corner, and disappear from sight.

“Uh, sure. I gotta sec. What were you so excited about?” I asked while I fumbled my combination.

His grin was gone, replaced with seriousness that didn’t look right on him. Clearing his throat he asked, “So. New boyfriend?”

The lock clicked open in my hand. “No. He’s just a friend. Don’t go big brother on me and chase him off either.”

Collin folded his arms over his chest. “When have I done that?” The corners of his mouth pulled up into a smirk, and I knew he wasn’t seriously asking.

I arched a single brow at him, until he shrugged, laughing. “So, what’d you want?” I asked, shifting through my stuff, and grabbing what I needed.

“Just wanted to talk to you. And I’ve got something for you.” He leaned his body into the row of lockers, waiting for me.

I fished out my book, and slammed the locker door shut. I hesitated, looking at him.

“Sure. What is it?” I glanced over Collin’s shoulder, seeing Eric walking toward me.

Collin turned to see who I was looking at, and stiffened. I watched the two of them together for a moment. Eric stood a few inches shorter than Collin. Eric was neatly pressed, short hair combed perfectly in place, with his shirt tucked into his jeans, and a pile of books under his arm. Collin had the just-rolled-out-of-bed smoldering look going on. His longer hair went where it wanted, untamed like the rest of him. His dark shirt clung to his body, covered by a black leather jacket, and biker boots. They both looked good, in a different kind of way.

Turning back to Collin, I asked, “Sooo… ?” His blue eyes darted back to my face. Uncertainty flashed across his features, but disappeared so fast that I wasn’t sure that I’d really seen it.

He leaned in close, resting his hand on my shoulder, his lips hidden by my hair, as he whispered in my ear, “I’ll catch up with you later.” He gave Eric a pointed look and walked away. I sighed, watching him leave. He wasn’t sulking, but he wasn’t happy either. Crap.

Eric looked at me, asking, “Are you guys… dating?”

“No,” I shook my head. “We most certainly are not. Let’s just get out of here.” I shoved my book under one arm, pressing through the narrow metal doors that lead out the back of the building, with Eric next to me. Lots of kids walked through an alley behind the school to get to the avenue. It wasn’t dark or creepy, and with the company of other kids, it wasn’t the kind of alley that gave you the willies. People fanned out as we passed through the metal doors, and I sucked in fresh air. Despite my seemingly dark façade, I enjoyed the sensation of sunlight on my skin. Eric watched me out of the corner of his eye, saying nothing until we were out of the earshot of the others.

“So, tell me.” I blurted out when I couldn’t wait any longer. “What is this?” I pointed at my head.

As we walked past storefronts, I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. The conversation was shrouded in the noise of engines and car horns. There was always a lot of traffic at this time of day. Crossing the street, without becoming road kill, was a trick.

Eric shifted his books to his other arm, and his pace slowed. His amber eyes glinted gold in the sunlight. “It’s gonna sound weird. You aren’t going to believe me.”

“Just tell me.” How weird could it be?

Eric smiled slightly and said, “Last night you asked me if Jake did this to you—if he made that mark. The answer is no. He didn’t. The mark on your head makes you his enemy. It shows that you’re a Martis. We usually hide it, but when it first appears, life can be kinda rough. In short—you were claimed to fight for the good guys. You were chosen because of your fierce loyalty and courage. That’s the reason any Martis is chosen.”

“Chosen by who?” I asked.

Eric shrugged. “Angels. They did this to you. When they claim a mortal to fight on their side, that blue mark appears above the right eyebrow—exactly where yours is.”

I stared at him with my mouth hanging open, not really believing what he was saying. We’d stopped walking. My eyebrows were receding in disbelief into my hairline. I managed to blurt out, “Then what is Jake? There’s no way he’s normal.”

Eric’s expression was somber. “He’s a Valefar. They are the only beings that can destroy Martis. You’re immortal, unless one of those takes you out.

“There’s a war that’s been raging forever. The demons were no longer content staying in their realm—the Underworld. They tried to take the angel’s realm as well. They fought long horrific battles intent on destroying anyone who opposed them. At some point both sides were at a stalemate. They were equally matched.  But the demons wouldn’t back down. That’s when the demons did something that changed everything—one of them kissed a mortal.

“The demon kiss stripped away the human’s soul, and then they infused the victim’s body with demon blood. That was the birth of the Valefar. Basically, a Valefar is a human puppet that is kept alive with demon blood. They are like animated corpses, but look exactly like real people. You can’t tell the difference unless you catch a glimpse of their mark or their eyes when they are caught in blood lust—they turn blood red. It’s the demon blood that made them what they are.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. My fingers were pinched tightly into fists. When I tried to relax and unfold them, I noticed how slick they were. His words were scaring me. They sounded totally insane, but my gut was telling me it was real. All of it.

Eric’s gaze met mine, “Demons are the only creatures that don’t need a soul to survive. And they made the Valefar just like them—soulless. Demon blood is different. Vile. It gives them life in an unnatural way. The rest of us have souls—humans, Martis, even angles.

“When the demons remained in their own realm, the angels left them alone, but when they attacked and started trying to expand their realm; the angels had to do something to stop them. So, they made the Martis. We nearly lost the war because of the Valefar, Ivy. The angels didn’t want to engage humans, but they were forced to. And it was for the better—the Martis were able to trap the most powerful demon in a pit in the Underworld—Kreturus. He’s still alive down there, waiting for his Valefar to free him. The Martis make sure that doesn’t happen.”

My throat slid into my stomach. “So, an angel picked me to fight in a battle that I can’t see, and my boyfriend was a demon puppet? Is that what you’re saying?”

Eric flicked his eyes up at my face, “What do you want to believe? After last night, I can’t imagine how you could think what happened was normal.”

Shaking my head, I said, “It wasn’t normal.” I shivered, absently rubbing my hands against my arms. “He was kissing the soul out of my body—ripping it away from my bones like it was meat.”

Eric’s hand reached out, and gave my arm a reassuring squeeze. “Ivy, it’s their way. That’s how they make more Valefar. He was stalking you—hoping to catch you before you knew what you were. He was going to bind you—or kill you.”

Eyes wide, I nodded. “He said that. Last night. He said it was the perfect time—because I didn’t know what I was yet.” Closing my eyes, I blinked hard trying to erase the memory. Looking up at Eric, I asked, “He said I was new?”

“Well, you are, right?” Eric answered. “Your mark looked more mature, which threw me off a little bit. But you seem new. When did you first see the mark?”

“Last night. I didn’t see it before then. It wasn’t there,” my fingers absentmindedly touched the make-up covering the mark.

Eric’s eyes flicked to the spot, and then returned to my face. “That’s what they do—their older Valefar hunt us, trying to find us before we’re made. There were hardly any Martis left. When the angels thought we won, when we locked Kreturus in the pit, they allowed the Martis to dwindle. But, when it became clear that the Valefar needed to be addressed, they started adding to our numbers again. It’s not unusual to be seventeen or eighteen when you get marked. And the Valefar know that new Martis are clueless.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. 

“I mean that the Angels don’t shoulder-tap their chosen and give them a welcome packet. It’s not their way. Martis learn what they are on their own. Anyway, the Valefar befriend humans who they think may get marked, waiting to destroy them as soon as the mark appears. We’re easy targets at that point. Maybe that one got lucky?” He glanced at me.

“That was some luck.” I heard the disbelief in my voice. That wasn’t luck. I was played. Jake knew what I was going to be before I did. How? “Eric, how did he know? I had no clue it was happening. I never even heard of any of this before.”

“I don’t know entirely, but we suspect they hunt their prey in ways that are unique to Valefar, using abilities we don’t have. No one is really sure how it works, but when you’re changed to a Martis, it’s a process. You don’t usually wake up with a mature Martis mark on your head. It’s typically a gradual change. First the mark appears like a blue bruise, before it intensifies into a pattern. We assumed the new Martis were being killed because their mark was exposed. But you didn’t have that bruise-like mark. I would have seen it. It just appeared, fully formed.” He shook his head, “Ivy, I don’t know how they hunted you. I didn’t even realize you’d get marked.” His voice was sincere and somber.

Shaking my head in disbelief, I stood looking straight at him, with my eyes wide. I felt the air fill my lungs as my stomach twisted in knots, not knowing what to believe.

“Ivy,” he said, “if you remember anything about the Valefar, remember this. They feel nothing, care for no one, and are only interested in one thing—power. Right now, they are trying to shift the balance of power back in their favor, so they can defeat us.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, “And if they defeat us?”

Eric’s gaze broke as he turned away from me, “They can release Kreturus.”

A horn blared, making me flinch. Throwing my head back, I looked into the pale blue sky, and wrapped my arms around my waist. I didn’t know what to think. Looking over at him, I asked, “So, what do we do?”

“Keep ourselves hidden, and destroy them before they can kill us off.” He sounded perfectly reasonable, like killing immortals was an everyday thing.

“Hidden? That’s why we hide our mark, right? So the Valefar don’t know if we are human or not?” I asked.

“Yes, it makes it harder for them to find us. If you leave the mark uncovered, it’s like walking around with a bull’s-eye on your forehead—any Valefar can see it, not just their hunters.” He paused, “Why, what’s wrong?”

I felt myself blanch. “Eric, he knows me. The Valefar that attacked me last night—Jake—he knows who I am. He knows where I live. I was seeing him for a while, before all of this happened.”

“Ivy, they can hunt you, once they know who you are. We have to find him, before he finds you, and hope he didn’t tell the others. What’s his name? Tell me everything you know about him.”

I told him what I knew about him, or what I thought I knew.

Eric’s hand rose to my cheek, but he hesitated, and then rested his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll take care of him. Don’t worry about it.” His amber eyes were reassuring, but I didn’t see how he could defeat Jake.

I shook my head, “You can’t go after him. He’ll kill you.”

“I know what he is. And I’ve fought the Demon Kissed before, Ivy.”

Looking up into his face, I stared at him. “What are you? How do you know all this stuff?”

His amber eyes glittered in the afternoon sun. “I would've thought it was obvious—I’m a Martis.”

That’s why he saved me. That’s how he overpowered Jake. I felt something stirring within me. I didn’t like being drawn into this, and not having any say in the matter, but there were much worse people to be allies with than Eric. I owed him my life. I didn’t know what to say.

Regret spilled across his face, “Last night—I wish I’d gotten there sooner. I haven’t ever met someone who survived an attack. Getting kissed by a Valefar is supposed to be unbearable.”

I shivered and said, “It was.”