Marks of the Past - 21

Chapter 21

“Leila?” Mark’s response was almost immediate and it surprised me how quickly he appeared at the side of my bed like some nursemaid with nothing better to do with her time. The thought was almost enough to make me laugh. Almost. 

“Oh thank the ghosts you’re here,” I murmured, keeping my voice low and eyeing the door warily. “We need to be quick. Any minute now the maid is going to come in with dinner and we need to be ready by then.”

“Ready for what?” 

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t pretend you haven’t been listening, Mark. You know that I need your help.”

He nodded once. “There is one way I can think of that’ll get you out of here alive.”

His dark eyes met my pale ones, face filled with concern. “It’s not going to be easy.” But then again, what was at this point? “The only way I can think to get you out of here alive is to let me take over your body.”

Just as bad as I’d expected. 

“Is that all?” I asked at last. “Doesn’t sound too bad.”

Mark laughed. “I know you’re making jokes to hide your fear, Leila, but you don’t have to pretend to be brave for me. 

I knew that. I was trying to be brave for myself. 

Shaky breath in, shaky breath out. “I have to do this - if not for me, for my family and friends.” 

Mark nodded. I was glad that it was Mark I had to share a body with rather than anyone else. He already knew almost everything about me and it surprised me that of everyone I knew, he was the one closest to me. Plus, he understood a lot of what I was going through with magic. 

“Once I’m in, I’ll use your magic to help you escape. We’ll find a way to come back for everyone, I promise,” Mark assured me. “Do you trust me?”

“I have to,” I respond, avoiding the question. “I’m ready.”

The second the words left my lips Mark’s smoky form launched itself at me and went straight for my chest. 

I couldn’t breathe. There was something, no, someone inside of me, tearing me apart and making itself a home inside of me. It stole the thoughts from my head and the breath from my lungs. I wasn’t in control anymore. 

Pain poured over me like molten lava but it was nothing compared to the panic I was feeling. My heart raced and my chest spasmed as it tried to rise and fall. It was as though the air around me had turned to stone, allowing me no room to move or breathe. Just end. Please just let it be over. 

There was a knock at the door and the monster inside me stirred at the noise. I could feel its claws holding tight on my mind. 

The little maid appeared less than a moment later and almost dropped the bowl she’d been carrying when she caught sight of my limp form on the bed. 

The monster stretched, practically purring with pleasure as it took in its new prey. 

I felt my limbs move without my permission, the movement stiff as my arm rose into the air. The more I fought to push it back down, the shakier it became.

“Miss, are you okay?” the little maid asked, her eyes wide with fear. 

The voice that came from me wasn’t mine. The laugh was too raspy as though I was speaking with stones in my throat. “Better than okay.”

My fingers closed and the bowl shattered on the floor with an ear splitting crash as the girl clutched her chest suddenly. She dropped to the floor, twitching slightly. The panic in my chest rose higher. 

Mark, I tried to say but my voice was lost in a howling windstorm. Mark, what are you doing? 

Getting you out of here alive, came a response. 

You just killed the maid, I argued. 

Instead of an answer, I felt the air around me solidify as though I had been boxed away. I slammed my fists against the walls to no avail. 

My body stood and the bracelets snapped off my wrists with a snap. 

Locked away, all I could do was watch as Mark walked calmly towards the door, stepping over the girl’s body as I choked back a sob. 

We were met by a guard in the hallway but he crumpled when Mark raised my arm again. 

I knew what Mark was doing now. He was stealing the lives of others to support himself - the very thing I’d been doing by accident. Only he didn’t seem to care, and now he was growing stronger. My control over my body dropped away, leaving me completely powerless now. 

We were striding through the corridors without a caution now. 

Mark knew where he was going and it only made me try harder to regain my control. 

We stopped at the door of James’s room. Mark threw open the doors, the wood splintering under his touch.

James looked up from his work on the other side of the room, color draining from his face. His voice trembled when he spoke, “Leila?” 

“Leila is gone,” Mark said in his gravelly voice. “I am revenge.” 

At least James had the common sense to duck as Mark whipped out his hand, but it didn't do much to stop the onslaught of a magical attack. 

The boy fell to the ground, convulsing and writhing in pain. 

Mark was playing with his food and my stomach churned at the thought. I pounded my arms harder against the mental cage but it did nothing. James. James, wake up. James. 

Anger mixed with fear and guilt inside of me, creating a dangerous combination of emotion that I poured into my attack as I slammed myself one more time against the wall. The glass around me shattered into a million fractals, spiraling through the darkness. 

James! 

But this time it was real - I had spoken the words aloud. 

My hand dropped to my side and James stopped spasming, gasping for breath as he clutched his stomach. 

I dropped to my hands and knees, making my way desperately towards him as I felt Mark reclaiming his grip on my mind. A blinding headache rushed over me and suddenly I was back to being confined in the darkness of my own head. 

I could vaguely feel the pressure of James’s hands on my arms as he shook me, trying to wake me up. 

Mark felt them too - I could tell by the way he was staring at his arms in shock. 

I noticed they were whole again, no sign of them withering away. He looked up, eyes meeting mine. Fear shot through me like lightning. 

“Do you want to escape or not?” 

This is not escape, I said, dismayed that my voice wasn’t working. But I could hear the sound echoing in the space around us. At least I knew Mark heard me. Killing is not the answer. 

Mark scoffed. “What have these people ever done for you, Leila?”

Nothing, and that’s exactly what I thought you would do to them. Mark, you can’t just murder people using my body. 

“Oh yeah? Watch me?”

The air around me solidified again and I fought back against it, trying to focus on it becoming smooth like a liquid. Mark took my momentary pause to dart at me, knocking me to the ground. 

I raised my arms like Mark had when he’d controlled me, prepared to use my magic. 

He was faster than me, though, and more experienced. Besides, we both knew that I wouldn’t hurt him - and that was my mistake. 

My pulse dropped like a stone in a pond and I saw the silvery ghosts rise up around me. Pain rimmed my vision red and I felt Mark reinforce the walls around me. They grew taller and taller as I grew weaker and weaker. 

Was Mark using my life force to sustain his mental protection? 

The answer was yes. Which meant every time I fought back, his protections would use my energy to sustain themselves as I grew too weak and eventually either died or dropped into a coma like Kyle had. 

I gathered what little energy I had left into my palms, trying to think of forcing the magic outwards. I only had one chance at this … 

I thrust my palms outwards, trying to picture Mark’s face as he withered to dust again. 

My magic shot from my palms, striking the glass. I heard the crack of glass shattering but then my entire world went dark as the magic shot back at me like a bullet. 

I could just barely hear Mark whisper, “Well that takes care of that.” 

Then my eyes fluttered shut and the question wasn’t when I would wake, it was if I would. 

Mark brought me back to consciousness in the graveyard. 

The ground was coated in a fresh blanket of snow, which my now seemingly ghost-like form rested upon. I didn’t feel the cold, which was my first sign that something was off. 

I pushed myself upwards into a sitting position only to be knocked back down by a wave of exhaustion. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Mark warned from not far away. I struggled to angle my head to face him, my body protesting the movement. “Just let yourself relax - it’ll all be over soon.”

I doubted that. 

Mark was standing with arms stretched high in front of one of the graves. The stone was marked with so much graffiti that it was impossible to tell what the original name had been - not that I couldn’t guess. 

He raised his arms a bit higher and another wave of nausea rolled through me. 

I’d been foolish to ever trust a word that came out of his mouth. To ever think that a boy like him could change. I was disgusted with him for using me and with myself for never questioning his motives. 

A tiny rumble shook the ground. It was barely noticeable at first, but then it happened again. The ground before Mark’s feet cracked open and the weight of the world crashed down on me. 

My vision went dark again but somehow - whether a curse or blessing - I stayed awake. I felt every single stab of pain, every shift in my strength, every breath growing slower and shallower. One second I was in my ghostly form and then I was in my own tangible vessel. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Mark lying beside me in his new - or old, rather - body, somehow preserved for the past century. 

The sting of the cold poured over me but it was the least of my worries. I could feel my strength waning, disappearing as though it was being sucked down the drain of a sink. 

Mark’s fingers twitched and I passed out for a moment. 

When I came to again, he was inspecting his fingers, running a hand through his hair, touching his face. Every movement sent another slice of pain down my spine until somewhere in the distance I heard a scream. 

Mark got to his feet and this time his movement caused me no ache. 

His skin was pale in a way that reminded me of some sort of demon of the wood. Eyes dark, he peered down at me and his lips drew into a smirk. 

I tried to move, tried to get up and smack him or at this point maybe put him back in the grave where he belonged. But it was as though the snow had claimed me as its own and I was encased in ice. 

He bent down so his lips were at my ear when he spoke. “I don’t need you anymore, Leila. Did you hear that scream? The people of this city are mine for the taking and it's all thanks to you. I do hope someone finds you in time to save you. If they do, you’ll know where to find me.”

Then he was gone and the freezing sensation left me trembling with cold, fear and betrayal. 

Silent sobs racked my body as over and over again I saw him rise from the ashes, a dead man made live once again. Some people aren’t meant to have magic. James was right about one thing. 

The people of this city are mine for the taking and it’s all thanks to you. 

More screams pierced the silence as I imagined mothers came downstairs to find their children dead. Entire families discovered slaughtered in their homes. 

I wanted to help but I could feel exhaustion pulling me down. 

No. If you fall back asleep, you aren’t going to wake up again. Fight the pull. Think of your family and the Shadows and everything you have to live for. 

In the end, the only thing that kept me awake was the pain from the cold and the whole ordeal of the day. I drifted in and out of sleep, trying to force warmth into my limbs but I wasn’t dressed for the weather. 

It was a miracle when I finally spotted a shadow approaching. 

“There,” someone said in a voice that sounded vaguely familiar. “Grab her and let’s go before someone sees us.”

My eyes felt like they’d been crusted shut with ice so I couldn’t see who had found me. Strong arms looped themselves under me, pulling me upwards. The warmth from the body of my rescuer thawed my half-frozen limbs and I wrapped my arms around their neck, hoping that they wouldn’t decide I was worth it. 

The next few minutes were a blur of movement as I attempted to keep my grip on the person’s neck. Every time I felt myself start to slip away, someone would whisper my name and tell me to hold on one minute longer. 

I took it one breath at a time, in and out. One more. One more. One more. 

There was a creak of a wood porch, the swish of a door being swung open, a crackle as a fire was lit. Someone draped a blanket around my shoulders, lying me on a couch. 

The fire sank into the depths of my weary bones and the smell of hot chocolate drifted into the room. I perked up at the thought of food and my stomach growled miserably, reminding me of lost meals. 

Wherever I was, it was a sitting room of some sort. The layout reminded me a bit of the living room of Nik’s house, with the couches and armchairs arranged around the fireplace. The shelves above the fireplace were stacked with books to the point where they were practically overflowing. 

I was still inspecting my surroundings when I heard the footsteps again and wheeled around, expecting to find … well, I didn’t know. 

But I certainly hadn’t been expecting to see the Cursebreaker. 

His fiery red hair was damp with either sweat or snow, and his cheeks were flushed. In his hands was a steaming mug of what I assumed was the hot chocolate. 

I reached out my fingers, silently pleading for food or drink. 

“Nope, it’s not ready yet,” he said, setting the mug down on the coffee table in front of me. He drew a small vial maybe the size of my finger from his pocket, swirling around the reddish liquid inside of it. “Do you know how much you weigh?” 

“It’s impolite to ask a lady her weight,” I croaked, voice raw. 

The Cursebreaker raised an eyebrow. “It’s either you tell me or I overdose you on this stuff and you die.”

“I don’t know how much I weigh,” I admitted. 

The Cursebreaker’s eyes raked over my still shivering form. “I can make an educated guess and hope you don’t burst into flames.”

I didn’t laugh and the young man gave a sigh before mixing his little potion into the hot chocolate before handing it to me. I took in the scent, finding it slightly sweeter than I expected. “Is this drugged?”

The Cursebreaker rolled his eyes. “If I wanted you dead, I would have left you in the snow to die.” I still didn’t touch the hot chocolate and he gave a frustrated sigh. “Okay, fine. It does have a bit of sedative in it but only to make you calmer as your body fights off the effects of the magic. Think of it like sleeping off the worst of the plague.”

The look he gave me made me realize Kyle must have told him about me. Which meant Kyle was awake, which meant … 

“He’s resting in the kitchen,” the Cursebreaker said, meeting my eyes. “I’m sure you understand.”

“I do,” I nodded. Kyle had every right to want to avoid me, even if it stung a bit. 

“In the meantime, you can drink that delicious hot chocolate that I made especially for you,” the Cursebreaker suggested. 

I took a sip to satisfy him and had to agree that it was delicious indeed. It took less than a minute for me to down the contents and hold out the mug for more. 

The Cursebreaker gave a laugh. “No more.”

I opened my mouth to protest but suddenly my vision went a little fuzzy at the edges. Suddenly there were several Cursebreakers, all of them staring at me with a cocky smirk as if to say I told you so. 

“Strong, right?” The Cursebreaker gave a small smile. 

I nodded reluctantly, feeling a bit light headed. “I don’t want to get knocked out again.” The words came out muffled. Just a small dose of sedative? 

The Cursebreaker barked a laugh and gently pushed me over so I was lying completely on the couch. He brushed a hand over my forehead, checking for a fever. “Just rest for a bit, okay? Then we can get back to rescuing Kyle’s friends and my sister.”

His sister? 

Right before the world dissolved into the darkness again, I made the connection between the only two fiery, potion-makers that I knew. 

The Cursebreaker was Chelsea’s brother.

Author's Note

...