Ever Marked (Mystics of Mercy Ridge #1)

10. Arson

Chapter 10

Arson

“ D on’t think this makes up for earlier,” Ever chastises as I loop a few shadowy tendrils through the grocery bags and pluck them out of her hands.

No one has ever been able to sense me when I’m in the shadow realm unless I showed my hand before, yet every day without fail, Ever can tell within moments that I’m watching her. It’s as impressive as it is maddening.

You know, none of the other bastards in this town could ogle my pretty mate if I hid her in here with me…

While peaceful, the shadow realm is lonely and depressing. I’m stuck viewing the world through a grey-washed filter, stuck on the outside looking in, watching other people go about their lives like it’s an old black and white TV show. Everything’s muted here; the scents, the sounds, the colors. Great for stalking, assassination work, and quick travel, but it doesn’t do great things for one’s sanity. My gorgeous mate is a much needed splash of color to brighten up my dull life.

For as observant as she is though, I’m surprised she hasn’t noticed that I’m not actually invisible. Sure, when I’m completely in the shadow realm, there’s nothing to see, but when I reach through to manipulate something, like open a drawer or carry her bags, I’m using only a thin tendril of shadow to be discreet since her kitchen is so bright and there are barely any shadows for me to hide in.

“What the fuck was that, back there?” she demands, taking stock of what the stupid wolf bought her.

The temptation to throw it all away is strong, but my guilt is stronger. I’ve been so focused on rigging traps around the property and shoring up the house’s defenses to keep her safe, I didn’t even think about how empty the fridge was. I’d seen her eating, so it didn’t even register in my mind as a problem.

I’ve only been a mated man for a few days, and I’m already screwing it up. Stripping off the bandages from the hospital and finding my mate mark was the best and worst day of my life. Ever’s perfect and deserves far better than a scarred monster that even his own mother couldn’t love. Now I suddenly have a mate and a brother. My own little family, yet one’s lost, and the other’s starving.

Turns out, keeping people alive is way harder than killing them.

I dry my sweaty palms on my thighs and snag the notebook and pencil off the counter, preening as Ever stops what she’s doing to give me her full attention even after I wrecked her date. Well, ‘Casper.’ She doesn’t realize it’s me she talks to every day, but that’s a problem for another day.

Sorry =(

She scowls. “Sorry doesn’t cut it. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous.”

Of course I’m fucking jealous. We live together. I watch her sleep. We’re practically an old mated couple already.

My hand flies across the page, underlining it hard enough the paper tears.

My Ever. Forever.

“Aw, fuck,” she mutters, scrubbing her hands over her face. “I didn’t get the ghost that’ll sweep me away to a magical land, I got the crazy kind that’s going to eventually kill me so we can finally be together.”

Well that’s mildly insulting. Though I applaud the fact she recognizes my level of commitment if nothing else.

“Let’s get one thing straight, Casper. If you start trying to arrange my untimely demise so we can be together, I’ll leave you for the first new ghost I meet out of spite. We have a good thing going here, and I’m happy to be your friend so long as you don’t murder me just because you’re lonely. Deal?”

The pencil snaps in my crushing grip, jaw clenched so tight, my teeth might be next. Images of Ever lifeless on the floor, of her leaving me behind as she replaces me because I failed her. Nobody can love her like I can, but I’d never hurt her, even to keep her from leaving me. I’d sooner cut off my own hand.

Chest heaving, I snatch the usable half of the pencil off the floor.

I’d kill ANYONE that tried to hurt you. Even me.

A strained laugh bubbles out of her as she reads it, and once the floodgates open, there’s no stopping them. She slides down to the floor, and soon, tears stream down her cheeks, the occasional strangled sob cutting through her semi-hysterical laughter.

My rage and self-loathing is snuffed out as swiftly as it came, icy cold panic taking its place as I drop to my knees beside her. She’s crying. Why the hell is she crying?!

Hastily scratching out another note, I practically shove it in her face.

I’m sorry, you can have first dibs on killing them. Please don’t cry, I can share.

Another strangled laugh has fresh tears streaming down her face, and I frantically brush them away, using tendrils of shadow to stroke her hair, her back, and anything else within reach, desperate to fix it.

“I feel like I’m going crazy,” she sniffs. “If ghosts are real, why have I never noticed one before? I felt you watching me as soon as I set foot in this house. This city can’t be the only one you guys hang out around.” She digs the heels of her palms into her eyes and growls in frustration. “And everyone knows? What kind of bullshit is that? If people move here to run away from their problems, it’s not like everyone grew up in a haunted town and thinks this is normal. There’s no way that everyone coming here would take that revelation without freaking out and running for the hills.”

I pause mid stroke, confused. How couldn’t she know the supernatural exists? She is one. Otherwise she couldn’t have passed through the barrier into town. Hell, she may have mistaken me for a ghost instead of a shadow demon, but she didn’t run away screaming when she realized I was stalking her, so I figured it wasn’t her first taste of the supernatural.

Maybe she’s only got a trace of mystic blood? A grandparent she didn’t know, or it’s recessive enough she doesn’t have any abilities and slipped through the cracks?

Dread pooling in my gut, I write,

You rolled with having an invisible roommate just fine when you moved in. Why are you upset about it now?

She swipes at her face and takes a minute to give it some genuine thought before slowly replying, working through her feelings aloud. “It’s like we were in our own little bubble here. It didn’t matter if I was delusional or if I thought my house was haunted; it was just you and me. But talking to other people about it makes it… real, I suppose. And with it brings a whole onslaught of questions I’m not sure I’m ready to confront. Does that mean everything I know is a lie? If ghosts are real, are they the only thing out there I need to be worried about? Why haven’t I encountered any before? Is this city built on some ancient mass grave or something? If everyone else knew but me, it’s like I’ve been on the butt end of a joke since coming here. What other secrets are these people keeping from me? Is that why the hospital workers were so weird; they’re actually necromancers instead of doctors?”

Fuck, she really doesn’t have a clue what she is. There are so many bastards here that will try to take advantage of her ignorance of mystic society before she understands how much power she holds as both a female, and a central bond.

She can give any of these undeserving jackasses a power boost if she chooses to mark them as one of her mates. They’ll all be making a play to get in her good graces, or try to slip some bonding potion in her drink and seduce her into a one night stand without her realizing the full scope of the consequences. She wouldn’t need to keep them as a mate, but it’d force her mark to appear on their skin and give them all the power perks of being mated, even if they were screwing themselves out of the chance of any other center choosing them to join their bond group.

And any monster that tries to spike her drink and take what they want by force? There won’t be enough of them left for the Fates to judge their souls. I’ll bribe a wraith to torment them for eternity; they’re all brutal, kinky bastards. I’m sure it won’t be that hard to convince one.

I scrub a hand down my face and bite back a snarl, not wanting to freak her out any more than I already have. This changes everything. If Ever doesn’t know what she is, she has no idea what people in this town are capable of or how to protect herself from underhanded tricks.

Shit, I can’t keep leaving her alone anymore to look for my brother. I’ll need to take her with me, or do it while she’s sleeping. No, fuck, that’s when she’s the most vulnerable and needs someone to watch over her.

Stroking her hair a little more aggressively, I glance back at the massive pile of groceries and grunt with begrudging respect. The wolf isn’t the worst choice the Fates could’ve saddled us with, I suppose. My mate could use a decent guard dog when I’m not around.

It’s a little trickier to text while my phone is cloaked in shadows, and takes me twice as long, but like hell am I about to send my dream girl a message riddled with typos. I want to impress her, not scare her off, especially now that I’m terrified to have her out of my sight.

Can you give me a ride to the store this weekend? Driver’s choice if I ride shotgun or the hood.

After her reaction to the wolf carelessly shattering her worldview, I’m not about to make the same mistake. I need to ease her into the idea that she doesn’t have a ghost haunting her house, but a demon stalking her every move. To accept that, she has to love me first so she’ll overlook that pesky little detail.

A watery smile curves her lips as she stares down at her phone. Voice rough from crying, she whispers to herself, “I came here to build a life that would absolutely wreck me if I tried to leave it behind, and I can’t do that if I’m too afraid of messing up to take any risks.”

My phone vibrates a second later, and despite my worries, I can’t help but grin as I stare down at it.

The future Mrs. Hale:

It’s a date.