Ever Marked (Mystics of Mercy Ridge #1)

5. Arson

Chapter 5

Arson

F ucking hell, how much did I drink last night? Feeling like I was hit by a bus, I sit up with a groan, eyes shut tight to keep my vision from swimming as I palm my head.

A rustle across the room has me reacting on instinct, going for the knife I always keep under my pillow, but end up empty handed. Memories of last night come crashing back to me as my eyes fly open, preparing to tackle the threat with my bare hands, only to come to a screeching halt at the sight of a teal haired angel that steals my breath away.

“Oh thank god, you’re finally awake.” The woman gets to her feet, stretching her arms above her body and rolling her neck. The move makes her bloody t-shirt creep up a few inches, revealing a tantalizing flash of skin. Long teal hair is pulled back into a ponytail to reveal an ear ringed with piercings while purplish-blue eyes stare back at me with equal interest, a thin bruise slicing through her eyebrow and cheekbone in a perfect line. “I was starting to worry I knocked you straight into a coma.”

Hypnotized by the swaying of her hips as she closes the distance between us, it takes her clearing her throat to snap me out of my staring and notice she’s offering me my favorite knife. “Here. I would’ve asked to borrow it, but you were, you know, unconscious.”

I curl my fingers around the sheath, careful not to touch her. I’m not about to do anything to wake up from this fever dream sooner than I have to.

“Where am I?”

“The hospital. I sort of,” she cringes, “ran you over this morning. They patched you up and said you should be fine after some rest, and used dissolvable stitches on the worst of your cuts so you won’t have to come back. They refused to touch your cheek for some weird reason though, so I did my best with what I could find in the room.”

I blink, but nope, she’s still there. Just how hard did I hit my head? Do I really care if this is the result?

No, no I don’t.

“You did that… for me? Why?”

“Well it was sort of twenty percent my fault you were hurt.” Sheepishly, she rubs the back of her neck, a faint blush staining her cheeks. “Okay, maaaaaaaybe fifty percent.”

Fuck, she’s adorable. I’ve never hallucinated before, but if this is what it’s like, I can see why people do drugs. Because no way in hell would someone like her worry about a monster like me in real life.

She glances at the door and steps closer, lowering her voice. “Can you walk? We need to get out of here; something’s seriously off about this place.”

This close, her scent hits me, and it takes everything I have not to bury my face in the crook of her neck and breathe her in until it’s branded permanently in my lungs. It’s sweet; strawberries and peaches with a hint of citrus. Like a summer cocktail of all my favorite things. But with it comes an undercurrent of fear that instantly raises my hackles.

Women shouldn’t be afraid; they’re supposed to be cherished. Protected. And this is my fantasy girl. If she’s afraid, that makes it my responsibility to kill whatever upsets her.

Shucking off the scratchy hospital blanket, I get to my feet, doing a swift system check. A couple of fractured ribs, a bit dizzy, and I’m sore as hell, but nothing’s broken. I’ve had far worse before going out on jobs. “Give me the highlights.” Heading to my backpack, I pull out clothes and strip off this infernal hospital gown, pulling on my typical black tactical pants and long sleeved shirt over my new mummy costume. My bloodied angel turns to give me the illusion of privacy, but shoots frequent looks out of the corner of her eye.

I may or may not drag out getting dressed, enjoying her attention far too much.

“I told them someone hurt you before I brought you in,” she says, biting her lip, “but nobody seems to care. Even asked when the cops were showing up to take my statement or arrest me, and the nurse burst into laughter and walked away without answering. It’s weird as hell. So I stuck around to watch the door while you were out of it in case whoever you escaped from tried to finish you off since nobody was taking me seriously.”

She… watched over me when I was vulnerable? Me ?

My heart beats a little faster. I’m starting to think this might not be a dream after all. But if it’s not…

That means she’s real. She could have robbed me and left me for dead, but this gorgeous woman protected me while I was unconscious. She worried about me.

Nobody but Vic has ever cared about me before. Even then, we both knew the score after he accepted me as payment to spare my parents’ lives. But this woman has no reason to give a shit about what happens to me.

“Here, trade me.” Oblivious to my silent meltdown, she passes me a clear bag filled with my weapons while slinging my backpack over her shoulder. “Something tells me even disoriented and beat to hell, you have a better shot of fighting someone off than I do.”

I scowl, strapping everything back in its proper place, already fed up with these bandages hindering my movements. “You don’t have to carry my bag.” It’s heavy. And she’s already done far too much for me.

“Dude, I put you in the hospital. The least I can do is carry your backpack.” As I open my mouth to protest, she adds, “And it’ll make it easier for you to stab a bitch if necessary. Seriously, let me help since you’re doing the hard part.”

My heart swells. This woman…

She moves her chair from in front of the door and peers out. “Okay, the coast is clear. Come on.” I open my mouth to scold her for going first when she doesn’t even have a weapon, but my protests die on my tongue as she grabs my hand and darts down the empty hallway, pausing to peer around the corner first again.

“You’re… touching me.”

“Oh.” She glances back over her shoulder and blushes. “Sorry.” Embarrassed, she drops my hand like it burned her.

Nope, don’t like that at all.

“I didn’t say stop.” This time, I thread our fingers together so she can’t slip away from me so easily.

The corner of her mouth twitches. “I’m Everest by the way, but everybody calls me Ever.”

Ever. It suits her. After all, she’s my dream girl. Mine forever and ever.

“Arson.”

She cants her head. “Is that a street name or something? Did you drag me into a gang war?”

I glance around the corner, tugging her behind me toward the door to the stairwell. “You make me sound way more interesting than I really am. Nah, my parents took one look at their devil spawn and leaned into the angle. Made it five whole years before they gave me away.”

If only it was as simple as that.

We take off down the stairs at a fast clip, but she’s right; for a hospital, this place is a ghost town. I can hear voices behind the doors at each landing, but nobody comes in. Likely sticking to elevators, I imagine.

“Sorry.” With a wry smile, she adds, “If it makes you feel better, mine didn’t last a year before dumping me at a fire station. The social workers think it wasn’t even them that grew enough of a conscience to fork me over with the condition I was found in; at least yours owned up to not being cut out to raise a kid.”

My heart skips a beat. “Why the hell would that make me feel better?”

We stop outside of the first floor door and she shrugs. “Misery loves company? I don’t know, I felt bad for bringing up a touchy subject, so just letting you know I could commiserate.”

I frown, studying her. I don’t like the thought of her suffering at all, but there’s a small possessive thrill that snakes down my spine at the realization that we have something in common. Something that connects the two of us she won’t share with anyone else.

“Ready to make a break for it?”

She takes a deep breath and nods, slowly opening the door. There are far more people on this floor, so rather than run, I keep her hand firmly in mine and calmly walk like we belong here, as if nothing is wrong. I may not have been able to master turning off my emotions in training, but blending in? Nailed that one in my first month.

“So, what brings you to Mercy Ridge?”

Ever sighs heavily. “Caught my boyfriend cheating on me and needed a fresh start. You?”

I stop abruptly. “What idiot would dare-”

She slaps a hand over my mouth, violet eyes widening as she hisses, “We’re trying not to make a scene, remember?” Huffing, I nod, and her hand falls away with a chuckle. “You might suck at flying under the radar, but you’re great for a girl’s self-esteem.”

“Excuse me, I’m amazing at being stealthy.”

She raises an eyebrow in challenge. “You walked out in front of my car, and started shouting while we’re trying to sneak out of here. Hate to break it to you, man, but stealth doesn’t seem to be your strong suit.”

I simply gape at her. I’ve been shadow walking since I was a toddler; younger than any demon in history. I was raised by the country’s most feared assassin guild master. Stealth is my middle-fucking-name, thank you very much.

“Is too.”

She snorts. “You’re right, silly me. All these people are looking at us and whispering because you’re amazing at blending in.”

I glare at the nearest man that’s blatantly ogling Ever, memorizing his stupid face and making a mental note to hunt him down after I’ve settled in. Does she really not realize the effect she has simply by walking into a room? Female mystics are highly coveted; there’s only one born to every ten males. Of course an unmated woman coming to town is going to turn heads. Everyone’s going to be taking an interest in the hot new girl and shooting their shot.

Nope, don’t like that one bit.

Pretending to scratch my jaw, I discreetly peel off the bandage on my cheek, leaving the raw X on display for all the annoying gawkers as a warning. Any myst that doesn’t live under a rock will know what this mark means, and will think twice about getting close to my Ever and risk pissing me off. If one of them wants a chance at joining her bond group, he’ll need to have the balls to deal with me as well, so that should ward off anyone with common sense. The stupid ones, I’ll have to make an example out of to really get the point across that she’s off limits.

Interrupting my murderous thoughts, Ever tugs me into motion and asks, “So, give it to me straight. If it’s not a gang war, what are we dealing with here? Random axe murderer? Someone you owe money to? Shit, you pissed off the mob, didn’t you? We’re dead men walking.” Ever hums contemplatively. “At least I won’t have to pay bills anymore; could be worse.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” I ask, wondering if I really do have a concussion. She gestures to my cheek and it finally clicks. “Oh, that’s why you thought someone was after me? Sorry to disappoint, this was just a parting gift from my family.”

The late afternoon light is blinding as we exit the building. Ever’s right though; it’s strange that not a single hospital worker tried to stop us. It has me holding onto her hand a little tighter, searching the gaps between parked cars for threats.

“Oh,” she says with a frown. “Well that’s not nearly as exciting. I’m glad you got out of that situation, though. Came here for a fresh start too, I take it?”

Does she want me to be mixed up with a serial killer?

What are the odds there’d be two in the same town?

Shaking myself out of my scattered thoughts, I explain, “Sort of. I recently found out that a few years after they gave me up, my parents had another son. Gave him up for adoption the day he was born though, so they learned from their mistakes with me, I suppose. I came here to find him.”

A soft squeeze pulls my attention back to her in time to catch the tail end of a sad smile. “At least he was adopted. Usually those parents really want kids, so he probably had a decent life.” She waves her hand to encompass my entire body. “A less stabby one than you did, if nothing else. As sad as the situation is, it’s good your brother didn’t have to go through the same sort of hell as you did.”

I never really thought about it like that, brow furrowing deeper with each passing second. That means we won’t have anything in common. He might be out here living a happy, well-adjusted life, and I’m about to fuck it all up.

Nope, unacceptable.

We’re going to be best friends.

Either the hospital drugs are still heavy in my system, or that hit to the head must’ve been worse than I originally thought, because by the time I’ve finished working through my thoughts, I’m in the passenger seat of Ever’s SUV. I don’t remember getting in or if she even offered me a ride, my body running on autopilot while I was lost in my head. But Ever’s still here, watching over me while I pull myself together. My personal guardian angel.

She’s too pretty for a fucked up monster that even his own parents couldn’t love. Too nice. Too trusting.

If I kill off all the other unmated men in town, though…

She wouldn’t have a reason to leave me. Ever.