MARK OF LOVE (Lovemark #3)

12. Indigo

Chapter 12

Indigo

When I returned to the camp, with the cuffs secured safely back around my wrists, I felt awake, relieved, and ready to face whatever came next.

Whistling “Singin’ in the Rain” with a smile on my face, I pulled up short, however, at the sight that met me.

Quilla sat before the fire cross-legged as she looped strips of dough around the end of a stick. With her attention absorbed in her craft, she looked absolutely stunning.

Careful to exact each detail of her project just so as she applied the raw loaf to the spit, she then reached into a bag beside her with a free hand and removed a handful of glittering powder that she sprinkled on top.

Culinary magics. It must be an herbal remedy she’d gotten off some other mage to assist with cooking because as soon as the powder hit the dough, it doubled in size. Satisfied with the new dimensions, Quilla hovered her stick over the fiery coals and proceeded to bake her bread.

Returning to my bedroll, I sat and idly put my things back into my pack as I continued to watch her turn the spit, cooking the loaf evenly.

A second later, her gaze lifted to me, her eyebrows furrowed in disgruntled ire. “What?” she demanded.

My staring was bothering her again. Smiling, I bent up a knee and rested my forearms on it, getting more comfortable so I could keep doing exactly what I was doing.

“You’re cooking,” I said simply, amazed by it all. For someone so bitter and angry at the world, her calm patience as she prepared food sat in stark contrast to everything else I’d observed about her so far. So I found this to be an interesting facet of the woman in front of me.

“Not for you,” she muttered, returning her attention to the dough that was already halfway to becoming bread. “Now stop looking at me.”

I chuckled and flopped down on my back to rest my bound hands on my chest. Humming my song again, I gazed up at the brightening morning and enjoyed the tranquil moment. The sun wasn’t yet full in the sky, so the horizon was a canvas of warm colors. I watched them change and shift for a few minutes until Holly, back in the form of a black cat with white paws, leaped onto my chest, demanding attention.

I pet her while she pranced in a circle, kneaded her claws into my chest through my tunic, then curled down into a ball on top of me, and purred in contentment. And together, we enjoyed the quiet sounds of Quilla cooking at the fire and the amazing colors painting the world.

Until a boot kicked my ankle. The same ankle Quilla had stepped on earlier.

“Oww!” I bolted upright, causing a comfortable Holly to screech in protest and scurry away.

Melaina stood above me, in a pure black dress today, with her hands on her hips as she nailed me with a scathing glare.

“What?” I asked, absolutely sure I had done nothing to deserve such a scowl.

“Worthless male,” she sneered, making my eyebrows arch in shock. Motioning around me, she said, “Are you just going to laze around there all day, doing nothing?”

After blinking the confusion from my brain, I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry, was there something you required from me, Auntie?” Lifting my hands, I showed her the cuffs. “Just release my restraints, and I’d be happy to assist.”

Ignoring my request, she motioned to the things around me. “Just get off your ass and help Quilla prepare the loaves for the market already.”

Help Quilla?

“Gladly.” I started to rise, always eager to go near my mate and share a moment with her, but as soon as I gained my feet, Melaina sat down on the very bedroll I’d been enjoying.

And she reached for my saddle pack.

Pausing, I arched an eyebrow. “Um… What’re you doing?”

“We need to slim this pack down,” she answered with a distracted frown, and she fumbled to untie the pull cord keeping it closed. “I’m not toting all this crap around kingdom-come a single day longer.”

I blinked over such a suggestion. “Nor would I ask you to,” I said. “As it’s my crap, I’ll tote it.”

Melaina sniffed as if I’d just suggested something absurd. “So you could fetch some weapon you no doubt have hidden away in some secret pocket and use it against us? I think not.”

My brow furrowed in confusion. Then I glanced toward Quilla to see if she also found Melaina’s claim to be as completely unfounded as I did. I’d been digging into my pack all morning as well as last evening without anyone saying a word. Why was she suddenly worried I had something harmful inside? This woman made no sense.

Besides…

With a confused laugh, I shook my head. “I fail to see why you two keep insinuating I’m the violent one here.” I hadn’t threatened anyone with a dagger as one of them had, hadn’t actually stabbed anyone as the other had, and I certainly hadn’t gotten into a knock-down-drag-out-kicking-screaming-punching-hair-pulling fight as they both had.

“Really?” Melaina questioned haughtily. “You fail to see, hmm? What about this, then?” Reaching into the opening, she pulled out two daggers, then a chain mace, a small hatchet after that, and a bow, along with some arrows. “I’ve no idea what this even is,” she announced, producing some throwing stars. “But I have no doubt it’s some kind of weapon too. Unless it’s part of a kinky s*x toy. Ooh.” Finding metal wrist cuffs, she purred in appreciation and tucked them into the pocket of her cloak. “I’m keeping these, thanks.”

I ground my teeth, becoming a tad bit vexed as she continued to dump all my possessions out onto the ground—clothing, personal grooming items, and weapons alike.

Melaina sniffed. “A ratty, old second set of boots. Yeah, we don’t need these.”

“Having extra footwear around is always smart,” I muttered petulantly, wincing when mine landed in a puddle of mud. “What if the pair I’m wearing get wet or destroyed or stolen?”

“Well, no one would steal this pair, that’s for sure. And what is this?” She slowly drew my journal out into the open.

I stopped breathing, merely watching as she turned it this way and that, closely examining the leather cover, then the wax-dipped bindings on the spine that crisscrossed past each other in order to hold the inner pages inside. She plucked at the leather laces wrapped around it, binding it closed, and sniffed in disinterest.

“This is the worst excuse for a book as I’ve ever seen.”

And she tossed it haphazardly over her shoulder on top of the pile of the rest of my things as if it were nothing.

I stepped forward to intervene, only to stop myself. Inside those pages lay the writings of my entire life’s research. I had painstakingly detailed everything I had learned throughout my journey across the Outer Realms.

To me, it was probably the most important and valuable thing I owned. Nothing could replace it.

And her negligent treatment of the book did not sit well with me. But then I worried that if I put too much attention on protecting it, I would reveal its sentimental value, and thus target it for further torment.

I soon learned Melaina wasn’t the one I needed to worry about, though. Quilla looked over suddenly, her brown eyes alert with curiosity.

“Book?” she said. “Where?”

While Quilla set her baking bread aside and pushed to her feet to wander closer, curious to see what Melaina was picking through, I shook my head slowly, realizing what term both she and her aunt had just used to describe my journal.

“Wait, what did you just call it?” I had to ask to make sure I hadn’t heard them wrong.

Pausing, Melaina glanced at me. “What? The book?”

I nodded. “Yes. But how did you—?”

Attention snagged by Quilla when she leaned down and slowly picked my journal up, I released an unsteady breath, not sure what to think of her looking at the most personal thing I owned.

In all honesty, I would love to share my discoveries and research with my true love. It had taken me years to accumulate all the information I’d put in it. It was a point of pride and satisfaction with me. Of course, I’d want her to look at it with awe and wonder, then transfer that look to me and feel a connection between us through the words I’d written.

Except Quilla wasn’t exactly a typical true love. She was a Graykey, and she wouldn’t like what she found inside the pages.

Besides, knowing her, she was more likely to laugh and chuck it in the fire or dunk it in water, ruining the whole thing, and then degrade me for being a writer of any kind than she was to find any genuine interest in my research.

My stomach muscles knotted and tensed as I hoped and prayed that she didn’t hurt my baby.

While she rotated it slowly, examining the cover and frowning at the leather bindings, no doubt trying to figure out how to remove them from around the cover so she could open it and look inside, she said nothing and revealed even less with her expression.

But the fresh and open curiosity seeping from her emotions charmed me.

Melaina gurgled out a degrading laugh. “How do I even know what a book is?” she guessed my question when I couldn’t seem to finish it. “Oh, darling. If you only knew. I’ve been to places where they have an infinite supply of books. They sell outdated volumes that no one wants any more in these shops called used bookstores. They stack books from floor to ceiling on so many shelves you can barely walk between the crowded aisles.”

My lips parted as I watched her talk.

I couldn’t believe a word she said, because no place like that existed in the Outer Realms—since books didn’t even exist in the Outer Realms—but she spoke with such familiarity and authority, and the things she said matched stories I’d heard from another who knew about all that, so I found myself wondering if maybe she had been to a bookstore before.

But how?

“And what place was that?” I asked, my gaze straying to Quilla as she kept my journal clutched in her hand and returned to the fire, still examining it as she sat and picked up the spit of bread to continue cooking.

Wait, why was she keeping my book? And why was she watching me while I talked to her aunt? It was distracting as hell; I could barely concentrate on what Melaina was saying, and this was a conversation I was very invested in having. But Quilla was looking at me, and I could feel her interest blaring through the mark, which made me just want to crawl over to her and rub against her like a tomcat in heat.

Jesus, I think I preferred it when she completely ignored me—as she did ninety percent of the time. Because whenever she looked my way, my brain suddenly felt like a rubber ball ping-ponging around inside my head with all the aches and wants consuming me.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Melaina was answering.

I dragged my gaze away from her niece and exhaled slowly, trying to control the arousal that flooded my veins by bobbing my knee.

Just to see how she’d respond, I said, “So you’re talking about Earth, then?”

She looked up, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. Across the fire, Quilla gasped.

My attention returned to her just as Melaina demanded, “What do you know of Earth?”

“What do you know about it?” I countered, still unable to tear my stare from Quilla. A strange mixture of confusion and excitement wafted off her. And she was watching me intently. She’d heard of Earth too.

Which was…

Interesting.

The only other people I’d met who knew what Earth was were people from Earth or descendants of people from Earth. How did these two know?

“Honey, we’ve been to Earth,” Melaina finally announced. “That’s how we know.”

I zipped my incredulous gaze to her, only to turn back to Quilla. She hadn’t changed a feature on her face, yet I knew from her frozen expression that her aunt wasn’t lying. My mouth dropped open.

“Wait. You’ve been to Earth? Earth, Earth? Holy shit.” I clutched my head in my hands and took a step in her direction. “I have so many questions.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she pointed a stern finger at me. “Stop right there. Don’t you dare come over here.” She might look like she was ready to cut a bastard and not think twice about it with the hostile glare she sent me, but I sensed fear and sudden anxiety spike from her emotions over the possibility that I would approach her.

I backed away considerately, then plopped my ass down on a nearby log, needing answers.

“What was it like?” I asked. “When did you go? Did you see any motorcycles? Or airplanes? Or cars? Or were you born there? Wait, you couldn’t have been.” I suddenly realized. “You’re a—” A Graykey. But then another thought struck me. “f*****g hell, I know when you went. I know exactly when.” My gaze lifted to her frozen expression. “It would’ve been—what—” I did a quick calculation in my head. “Eighteen years ago,” I realized. “Right?”

Quilla exchanged a shocked glanced with Melaina, telling me I was right.

So I went on. “Almost exactly when the tenth reaping began.” Lifting my bound hands to my temple as another realization occurred to me, I laughed. “Jesus, that’s right. You and your aunt—” My gaze sought Melaina. “And a handful of others went missing then. No one knew if your bodies were hidden where no one could ever find them or if you just went so deep into hiding that no one ever saw you again. But you went to Earth then, didn’t you, to escape the reaping? Along with…”

I wracked my brain, trying to remember the names of the other Graykeys who’d gone missing then. The ones who’d never turned up again. I had it all written down, in the very book my true love had just confiscated, but I’d gone over the facts and studied them so many times I should remember this.

“Taiki,” I blurted, snapping my fingers in self-congratulations. “She was another aunt of yours. And there was also…” I glanced toward Melaina. “Two of your children. Questa and Quailen, right? But they’re still…”

Missing.

I glanced around, growing suddenly uneasy. If these two were back here, in the Outer Realms, and the other three were not with them, that either meant they were still on Earth, or they hadn’t survived the trip. I’d heard of cases where people who were transported between the two worlds hadn’t survived.

The sudden solemn air coming from Quilla made me think the worst.

“How the f**k did you know all that?” Melaina seethed, slowly rising to her feet. Anger radiated from her expression as she grabbed one of my special daggers on the way up. She pressed a lever with her thumb, and it released the blade, shooting out from the hilt with an ominous snick of sound. “I asked you a question, boy?”

She stalked toward me, the knife gripped with menacing intent.

I looked over at Quilla who gaped between us, her lips parted and eyes blinking rapidly.

“My mark disappeared then,” I explained, reaching up to touch my temple where I felt it almost alive and working, reading my true love’s surprise and interest.

“I thought you had died,” I told her. “I mourned for you. But then, over four moon cycles later, I woke up one morning, and there was the tattoo again, back on me as if it had never left. It must’ve thought you died too when you departed the Outer Realms, and then it returned again when it sensed you back on this planet.” Blowing out a soft whistle, I murmured, “Incredible.”

Quilla seemed dazed by what I’d just said, but Melaina sneered heatedly. “That’s all nice and interesting,” she growled, not really appearing to care about what I’d just explained at all. “But it doesn’t answer the question I asked. Now, how the f**k did you know who went missing during the tenth reaping?”

I lifted my eyebrows at her tone. She seemed truly and honestly pissed. In fact, this just might be the first time I’d ever actually seen her mad at all. The woman really did not like me knowing so much about her children, I guess.

When I refused to answer, she let out a growl. “How do you know about Earth?”

I said nothing.

“Dammit, answer me!” She pressed the dagger to my neck.

Since I was so zealous about sharpening my weapons, the blade cut into my jugular with ease, splitting open flesh until I immediately felt blood drip down my throat. I hissed at the pain and clenched my teeth but otherwise remained perfectly still, letting her have her moment. She was being a worried mother; that was all, I told myself. It was a fear I could understand.

Not because I’d ever been a mother, of course, but I’d cared for and worried about plenty of people before.

But they were Graykeys. I wasn’t telling them anything they didn’t need to know about the information the High Clifters had about their entire family tree.

Since the end of the Great Lowden War, King Ignatius had been systematically hunting down every last Graykey and ordering them to be eliminated. With the curse hanging over their heads, and the destruction they caused throughout the entire Outer Realms, it wasn’t safe to let any of them run free.

I glanced toward Quilla with just my eyes, realizing that meant her, too.

“You have an unhealthy obsession with my neck, you know that?” I asked, returning my gaze to Melaina.

“I swear to God, you High Cliff piece of s**t…” Grabbing my hair, she tugged my head back so that the blade dug in deeper. “If you don’t start talking, I will keep pushing this in until your head rolls across the ground.”

Damn. Maybe I should stop her. This was beginning to hurt.

And bleed.

A lot.

But from the other side of camp, Quilla exhaled an impatient sound. “Melaina,” she muttered. “Cut it out.”

“Cut out what? His windpipe?” Melaina's eyes glittered wildly with rage as she watched me. “Gladly.”

Well.

I guess we weren’t friends anymore.

“Put the knife down,” Quilla ordered, her voice brooking no room for discussion. Setting aside the bread, she rose to her feet, squaring off with Melaina.

As she spoke, I felt a quiver of fear shimmer through her. My gaze sought hers, surprised. Was she perchance worried? About me?

The idea made my insides flare with cozy warmth. Worrying about me had to mean she cared, right?

Well, I thought so. And I liked it. So I let her aunt threaten me further.

“Sure,” Melaina shot back, flashing her teeth at me while she spoke. “I’ll put the knife down as soon as this fucker talks and tells me how he figured out where my children and the love of my life are.”

“My God!” Quilla flung my book she’d been holding to the ground with force and growled, “Why does it matter how he knows? He knows! So what?”

“My book,” I whimpered, hoping it wasn’t hurt.

She pierced me with an incredulous glance. “Are you serious? You are literally bleeding from the throat right now with your life about to end, and you’re worried about a damn book?”

“It’s the only one I have.”

She shook her head and drew in a sharp breath before clutching her temples and rubbing them soothingly.

“If he knows,” Melaina started. “Then that dipshit king of his must know they’re on Earth too.”

“Again…” Quilla countered. “So what?” She marched forward, her glare centered on Melaina. “Only Graykeys can travel through the portal. No one from High Cliff can reach them there; they’re safe. Now, will you stop threatening his life already? You’re the one who insisted we keep him alive. And I sure as hell don’t want to have to kiss him again if you give him another mortal wound.”

I could tell the exact moment Melaina decided to relent. The pressure on my neck lessened and her voice took on its usual mocking, sarcastic tone that dripped with amused disdain once again. “But it’s simply too much fun to torture you so, sweetling.”

“f*****g bitch.” Quilla yanked the dagger from her aunt’s hand and away from my jugular so she could wave it in Melaina’s face. “You make me kiss him again, and I’ll cut out your throat.”

The sudden freedom of my airway caused me to cough and sputter with an overabundance of oxygen. Quilla sent me a quick, questioning scowl.

I returned it with a grin and managed to rasp, “My hero.”

“Shut up,” she spat and kicked me in the shin before spinning away and storming off.

“Ouch.”

“You know, I think you’re actually growing on her,” Melaina mused, suddenly my pal once again as she patted my shoulder companionably.

“Of course I am,” I said, still wincing as I rubbed the spot she’d kicked. “Soon, I’m sure, she won’t be able to help but love me.”

Melaina snorted. “Want to wager on that, boy?”

“Hell, no,” I answered immediately.

In all reality, my true love would probably still be threatening me for quite a while to come.

As Melaina laughed uproariously, I slid a cautious glance Quilla’s way, hoping she hadn’t heard that last bit between her aunt and myself, because I could only imagine which body part she’d come back and kick next if she had. But she merely sent us a curious, if not irritated, scowl and went back to cooking.

And I was left with more questions than answers.