Page 6 of Marked

The truck rumbled over another rough patch, and Caleb steadied me again with those unnervingly quick reflexes of his.“You’re going to fit right in here,” he said in a tone that suggested he knew something I didn’t.

“Was that sarcasm? That felt like sarcasm. Also, how much farther? Because I’m running out of small-town stereotypes to panic about, and I’d hate to have to start recycling material.”

“Actually, we’re here,” Caleb said, turning onto what I thought was a driveway, though it looked more like nature had briefly considered the concept of a path.

Something twisted in my gut. A memory, maybe, or a warning. Both? The trees looked different in the dark, but something about the way they bent over the path felt… familiar. Like déjà vu, but with more dread.

“Oh good, because nothing says ‘welcome home’ like a road that’s actively trying to kill—” The words died in my throat as the cottage materialized out of the darkness. My scar tingled, and for a moment, I could have sworn I saw…

A person running. Moonlight. Shadows moving wrong.

I blinked hard. The cottage stood there, innocent as any building that size could manage—which wasn’t very. It was bigger than I’d imagined, yet exactly the size I remembered, which made no sense because I didn’t remember it at all. Did I?

“That’s… not a cottage,” I managed, trying to shake off the weird double vision of present and past. “That’s what cottages have nightmares about becoming when they grow up.”

Caleb pulled to a stop in what might have been a designated parking area. Or was it always the parking area? Had Mom’s old Civic sat in this exact spot?

“It’s not that bad.”

“Says the man who probably lives in a house made of fallen logs and pure masculinity.” I peered through the windshield, fighting the urge to check if the upstairs window on the left still had that crack in the corner.How do I know about that crack?

He killed the engine, and suddenly the night felt very… night-y. And familiar. And wrong. My scar ached.

“Want me to help you get your car situated?”

“By ‘situated,’ do you mean ‘not blocking the escape route if demons attack’?” I tried for humor, but the word ‘escape’ felt too real on my tongue. Like maybe I’d said it before, here, in the dark. “Because yes, please.”

I reached for the door handle, then froze as another wave of déjà vu hit me. The motion sensor lights. There were supposed to be… “Um, quick question—are there motion sensor lights or am I about to audition forCity Boy’s Last Stand?”

“There’s a switch by the front door,” he said, already sliding out of the truck.

Right. By the door. Behind the loose board that never quite—I cut that thought off. How did I know about a loose board?

“Right. Front door. Which would be…” I squinted into the darkness, trying to ignore how my feet wanted to take me there without guidance. “Somewhere behind all that looming?”

I followed him to the door.

“Wait a minute,” I said, watching him. “How do you know where everything is? The light switch, the…” I gestured vaguely. “Everything?”

Caleb’s pause was almost imperceptible. “The Stones maintain several properties in the area. Including this one, actually.”

“The Stones?” My mind flashed back to Karen’s gossip at the store.Three brothers, old money, basically own half the town.“As in…”

“Yeah, that’s me. Caleb Stone.” He had the grace to look slightly sheepish. “Should’ve mentioned that earlier.”

“Right.” I tried to process this new information. “So you’re telling me that the mysterious local family my cashier warnedme about actually maintains my inherited cottage? That’s not weird at all.”

“Karen’s been spreading stories again?” His smile was carefully neutral.

“Oh, you know Karen too. Of course you do. Small town and all that.” I couldn’t keep the sarcasm from my voice. “Any other surprises I should know about?”

“Just trying to help, Kai,” he said softly, and something in his tone made my scar tingle. “The cottage… it’s been in our care for a while now.”

Since we left, my brain helpfully supplied, though I had no idea why I was so certain about that.

“Right,” I muttered, eyeing him with renewed wariness. “A Stone brother. Maintaining my mother’s cottage. Nothing suspicious about that at all.”

Caleb’s laugh carried through the night air, but it felt different now. More weighted. “Come on, let’s get you inside before you convince yourself I’m part of some small-town conspiracy.”

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