Insidious: (The Marked Mage Chronicles, Book 1) Page 11

  “Still trying to catch up on schoolwork?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So what brings you here? Can’t remember the last time you took a break from your studies to do some shopping, especially during the week. Trying to give your mom an ulcer?”

  I forced out a small laugh.

  “You’re not gonna get a 4.0 shopping at Victoria’s Secret.”

  “I’m just here to see someone.”

  “Oh?” He looked around, and his eyes homed in on the front entrance of the record store. “No…”

  I grimaced.

  “Kat, you can’t be serious.”

  “It’s not like that,” I assured.

  “Try telling that to Car.”

  “She’s not here, is she?”

  “Yeah, she’s buying perfume or something at Bath & Body Works. I couldn’t take the smell in there, so I bailed. She’s gonna be here any minute.”

  “That’s my cue to hightail it to safe ground.” I really wasn’t in the mood for a lecture right now. I collected the pretzel wrappers and headed over to the trash to discard them.

  A force collided into my shoulder as I turned around, and I outright gasped, shrieking back at the sight.

  “Sorry, you okay?” asked the Goth. The guy was a towering presence. His stilt-high black and blue spiked hair only exaggerated his 6’3” stature. And that wasn’t the only spiky thing that could be found on him. His entire jacket and even sections of his shirt were garnished in small metal spiked studs. That wasn’t what took me aback though. It was the fact that his eyes were black. Not just the irises, but the entire freaking eye! No whites, no color. Pure black!

  “I’m fine,” I managed to mutter.

  The Goth smiled sweetly, and it only made the sight all the more horrific. He turned and continued on his way across the food court, leaving me to gape mindlessly in his wake.

  “What was that?” asked Daniel.

  “You saw that? You saw his eyes?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, it’s called guy-liner. I know you’re a bit of a stickler for conventionalism, but some folks like to be a bit more eccentric.”

  “No, I mean the color of his eyes,” I whispered.

  A look best guessed as confusion distorted Daniel’s features. He suddenly gaped, imitating my apparent dismay. “I know, right? When was the last time you saw brown eyes? That’s only, like…half the population, including me.” He laughed, but still looked at me in bafflement when it was clear I didn’t share in his amusement. “Seriously, what’s up with you? You look like you’ve just seen Pennywise the Clown.”

  “I have to go.”

  “Kat-”

  I pushed past him, making my way toward the escalator. As I made my way down, I spotted Carly sauntering over to Daniel. Knowing he’d tell her about my mini freak-out, I maneuvered between the inactive people standing on the stairway and ducked into the first store I could get to when I reached the ground level. Hiding behind a clothing display near the shop window, I saw Carly and Daniel walk out of sight after a couple minutes toward the other end of the mall.

  At last, I’d caught a break.

  I exited the boutique and started heading over to the record store when a figure cut into my path.

  “Hey, again.” It was Black Eyes!

  For the life of me, I couldn’t say anything. I just stood paralyzed, looking up at him with eyes the size of saucers.

  “I haven’t seen you here before, and I never forget a pretty face,” he mused, perching his elbow up against the wall beside us. His other hand suddenly teased through the ends of my hair.

  I shied away, but a woman leaving another store suddenly plowed into my back, hurtling me right into Black Eyes’s chest!

  He grinned down at me, clearly pleased by the development. “How about we take this somewhere a bit more private?” he cooed, his hand cradling my chin.

  Just as I was about to run for dear life, another arm suddenly slung across my shoulder. “What a little maverick this one is. I leave you alone for ten minutes, and you’re already seducing your next victim.”

  Both Black Eyes and I turned to see my Psychotic Hallucination beaming down at me devilishly, and I’d never welcomed the sight as much as I did in that moment. The Goth reluctantly backed up as Reese planted a kiss on the side of my head.

  “Seems we need to have a little talk,” the magician jabbed lightly, pulling me away.

  His arm dropped down to the middle of my back, and he steered me across the plaza. Temptation urged me to look behind us, but he tightened his grip. “Don’t. You’ll only draw more attention.”

  “Is he the same thing as the guy from the alley?” I asked under my breath.

  “No, he’s a demon.”

  Well after we were in the clear, I tried moving out of his hold, but he wouldn’t let up.

  “What the hell is going on?” I insisted, slamming on the brakes. The effort did me little good as he continued on, practically dragging me across the marble floor. “Will you stop? Just talk to me!”

  We passed the Cineplex, heading down toward a side exit. I further protested, but Reese pushed the door open and hauled me through. The exit took us out to a vacant section of the parking lot where only a few sparse cars were scattered across the spaces by the closed automotive department. I immediately spotted the old beater truck resting under a streetlight just down the way.

  “What attacked me in the alley?”

  “Hellhound.”

  I looked at him incredulously.

  “Trust me, it’s a long story. I’ll fill you in once we get you somewhere a bit safer.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you!” It still amazed me that I was even bothering to put up a fight at this point. I’d have better luck taking down a great white than this guy.

  “Hey!” a voice barked from behind.

  Reese’s hold on me ripped away as I caught sight of a hand clasping around his throat. The power behind the individual sent the magician hurtling away, driving him into the brick wall beside us.

  Adam?

  “Don’t!” I bellowed. Seeing firsthand just what Reese was capable of, I didn’t doubt for a second that he’d skewer Adam like a shish kabob.

  Adam ignored my plea as he charged at the man, grabbing a hold of the front of his shirt. Reese instantly nailed his foot into Adam’s left shin, making him retract. The magician pushed up in front of him and whirled around to catch him off guard as he caught him in a chokehold. Adam’s face started turning red as he tried and failed to break free. I sprang forward in an attempt to intervene when I saw Adam at last pry out something from his pocket. Was that a black marker? He swiftly thrust the ballpoint right into Reese’s bicep. The magician barked out a string of curses as he released his grip on my ex.

  Just as I’d seen Adam practice in the gym countless times, he delivered a spinning hook kick, striking Reese right in the jaw. The impact of his boot had apparently broken the skin on the magician’s face, because a trail of blood ran from the reddened mark beside Reese’s mouth.

  Bile threatened to rise up in my throat as blood literally spurted from the wound like a popped ketchup packet as Reese ripped the pen from his flesh as well.

  Adam wasted no time and grabbed him from behind, locking Reese’s arm behind his own back. He began lifting him off the ground when Reese threw his weight back, catching Adam off guard. He forced a step forward before driving his left hand around, nailing Adam right in the temple with his elbow. As Adam crumpled over, Reese continued bringing his hand over, placing it on the other side of Adam’s arm. He straightened, locking up the appendage and getting right in Adam’s face. Reese all-out sucker punched him in the ribcage, knocking the air right out of him.

  I cried out, but the magician wouldn’t relent. He threw Adam against the wall, pinning him in place with his forearm digging into Adam’s throat.

  “STOP!” I wrestled my way between the two, but Reese still wouldn’t budge. “Let him go!”

  R
eese shot me a bemused glare. “Why in perfect health would I do that?”

  “That’s my ex, you idiot!”

  His stare only hardened all the more as he looked back at Adam. “Oh, I think he’s much more than that.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He can see me,” Reese growled. “Only those who are supernatural have the sight to see past mental manipulations. The only question is, which breed is he?” Reese fetched out a long slender knife from inside his coat.

  “What are you doing?” I snapped.

  “If one of the unholy comes in contact with silver, it scorches their flesh. Let’s see if he burns.” He removed his arm from Adam’s throat, only to put the knife in its place. The steel pressed into the skin, nicking it ever so slightly. Asides from the trickle of blood that escaped, there didn’t appear to be any other reaction.

  “That’s enough! Get off of him,” I demanded, seeing no resolve. I finally managed to push Reese away enough so I could step between the two.

  “Seems you get to keep your head,” huffed the magician, tenderly holding his injured arm. “At least for the moment, anyway.” He examined the hole in the fabric where Adam had stabbed him and groaned. “Though I might change my mind, being that you ruined my jacket.”

  “You both have some serious explaining to do,” I barked, looking back over at Reese. “And I’m pretty sure you need a doctor.”

  “He’ll be fine,” muttered Adam, fingering the knick on his own throat. “The wound will heal within the hour.”

  “And you know that from personal experience, I take it?” remarked Reese, still watching him guardedly.

  “Something like that.” Adam’s eyes shifted behind him, and he grimaced. “Though, this might take a little longer.”

  I gasped, and Reese didn’t even have a chance to turn as a tire iron suddenly throttled into the back of his head. The magician’s body limply collapsed on the asphalt, and the figure standing behind him stepped into the light.

  My jaw practically detached. “Mr. Reynolds?”

  “Hey, sweetheart.”

  Chapter 9

  The Wretched

  Mr. Reynolds promised he’d give me the answers I needed, but first, he had business to tend to. By the looks of it, that business was Reese, who was now bound and handcuffed to an iron chair in the Reynolds’s basement.

  Every time I stole a glance at Adam, he quickly diverted his own gaze, and I knew this wasn’t going to be good. Footsteps pounded down the stairs, and Mr. Reynolds headed over to the landing to greet the visitors. Everyone else’s backs were turned towards me, but I could still make out the strapping figures and short haircuts to distinguish that they were all men. Mr. Reynolds whispered something indistinct, nodding over in my and Reese’s direction. The group turned, and the whole room froze.

  I instinctively cowered back over to the recliner in the corner, unable to read everyone’s faces. Were they taken aback by Reese or me? I recognized the men from around town, but didn’t know anyone by name with the exception of Russell, one of Mr. Reynolds’s security detail buddies. He was a burly man with a military crew cut and arm muscles the size of cannonballs.

  “What’d we know about him?” asked Russell, eying the magician.

  Reese was still out cold. His long locks swept over his eyes as he sat slumped over in the chair, and my own neck hurt just looking at the crooked angle his was unconsciously positioned in.

  “He goes to school with Adam and Kat,” confirmed Mr. Reynolds. “It’s Christine Blackburn’s son.”

  The name drop didn’t improve the mood.

  “Do we know what he is?” asked one of the men.

  “No, but he was carrying quite the arsenal when we took him out,” remarked Adam, motioning to Reese’s jacket that was now slung over the back of the loveseat by the landing.

  The men eyed the garment curiously, opening up the inside compartments.

  “Holy shit,” muttered Russell, pulling out over half a dozen different blades and tactical tools. There was even a set of silver throwing stars. “He’s definitely packing.”

  “What’re we thinking? Purebreed? Hellhound?”

  “I don’t know,” huffed Mr. Reynolds. “But I don’t like it.”

  Adam finally approached me, but it wasn’t without hesitation. “You might want to wait upstairs. This could get ugly.”

  “Ugly? What are you planning to do to him?”

  “He’s right, Kat. You won’t want to see this,” affirmed his father.

  All eyes were on me, and the discomfiture was enough to get me to leave. But before I could move, I heard a low grumble. Everyone looked over at Reese as his head bobbed a couple times before he wearily peeled his eyes open.

  “Motherf….” He wrenched his neck sorely, wincing at the pain I could only imagine was radiating from the back of his skull.

  “Well, look who decided to grace us with his presence,” remarked Russell, walking over to Reese with a folding chair in hand. He propped it open and set it down backwards, so when he sat on it, he could rest his enormous arms across the backrest.

  Reese finally gave a good look around the room, and of all things, he chuckled.

  “You know who we are?” queried Russell.

  “Let me take a guess…” The magician seemed to take deep consideration in the question as he scrutinized each of the brawny men. “An underground steroid coalition?”

  No one appeared pleased by the remark, but that didn’t stop Reese from sharing in his own amusement.

  “Shut him up,” growled one man, pulling out a blade from an ankle holster.

  “No,” barked Mr. Reynolds. “There are other means of doing this.” He pulled out a flask and unscrewed the lid, heading over to Reese.

  “What? You wanna become drinking buddies?” Reese scoffed.

  “Depends. How do you feel about holy water?” Mr. Reynolds suddenly hurled the contents of the container right in Reese’s face. “

  “Ah!” the young man howled, triggering everyone else to unsheathe a variety of different blades aimed at him.

  Perturbed, Reese shook his head, causing the water dripping off the front strands of his hair to spray across the floor. “Right in the eyes.”

  The men lowered their guard at last, apparently not getting the reaction they had anticipated.

  “What? Were you expecting me to burst into flames?” Reese chortled. “Sorry to disappoint you all, but you’re barkin’ up the wrong tree.”

  Russell growled, getting up from his seat and walking behind Reese. The magician cringed, expecting some kind of blow to follow. Instead, Russell shoved his head forward, brushing away the hair covering the back of Reese’s neck. Unsatisfied, he grabbed the collar of Reese’s shirt, taking turns exposing each shoulder. “He’s clean.”

  “Where did you get these?” asked Mr. Reynolds, stepping forward with one of Reese’s filigree knives in hand.

  “eBay,” the magician retorted. “Or was it Craigslist? Door-to-door salesman, perhaps. Can’t really be sure. That hit to the head is making my memory a bit fuzzy.”

  Still, no one else seemed amused.

  “You a Purebred or Changeling?” asked one of the other men.

  “What difference does that make?”

  “Are you a part of a charter, or not?” growled Mr. Reynolds.

  Reese sighed, fidgeting at the restraints around his wrists. “Is this really necessary? Or is this how you treat all your guests?”

  “Just answer the question. Were you turned or not?”

  The magician stole a sideways glance at me, a restrained grin tugging at his lips. “No good deed goes unpunished, aye?”

  Russell grabbed a handful of his hair, wrenching Reese’s head back.

  “No,” he confirmed.

  “So your old man was a Reaper then, I take it? Is this his collection?” Mr. Reynolds didn’t really need him to answer, observing the knife in his hand. “Impressive steel. You know what happened to him
?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  “Did he teach you how to use these?”

  “Well, he walked out on me when I was two weeks old, so if he did, I can’t say I remember much,” said Reese, flatly. “The only reason I even figured any of this out was because I found his weapons and journal buried in our basement when I was thirteen.”

  “Can someone just explain to me what the hell’s going on?” I finally demanded. “Who…and what are all of you people?”

  “Care to clarify?” mused the magician. “Or do you wish for me to do the honors?”

  Eric and Adam only exchanged uneasy looks.

  “I’ll take that as the latter,” huffed Reese, turning to address me. “Back in the day when Lucifer and his legion fell from Heaven, these fallen angels fornicated with human women, bringing about a new breed called the Nephilim, otherwise known as Mages.”

  “Mages?” I uttered.

  “Historically, a Mage is the equivalent of a sorcerer. They possessed the powers of an angel and wielded the darkest, demonic magic. Drank the blood of their victim to steal their life source. Vampires. Nearly indestructible. To counteract the reign of terror they brought upon mankind, God flooded the Earth, wiping them all out,” Mr. Reynolds clarified. “Their spirits remained earthbound though, in the form of demons. Asides from your casual possession, they didn’t pose any threat. That is, until some occultists a few hundred years back managed to resurrect a demon, by the name of Azazeal, back to our world in bodily form. He repopulated the world with Mages, forcing Heaven to combat the movement. A small band of benevolent angels willingly fell from Paradise to bless the strongest and pure-hearted of men with the abilities to fight these new Mages, therefore creating Reapers. Us.”

  “There’s a delicate balance between the living and the afterlife. Reapers escort souls to the hereafter, but they also have the power to resurrect the dead under certain circumstances,” added Adam. “If they do this, the person brought back is no longer human, but a Changeling. Half-Reaper, half-human—i.e., you.”

  “Wait, you’re saying I died?”

  “In a less than flattering sense, yes,” confirmed Reese.