Page 15 of Marked By the Dark Lord
Below us was a city of stone.
“Where the fuck am I?”
The gray man just chuckled ominously.
Chapter Seven
Korr’ok
It was nearing five in the morning by the time we reached the girl’s home. I didn’t know her name. I didn’t want to. Names held a certain sort of power in my world. I preferred to stay anonymous. Very few knew my true name. Most only knew the alias I’d adopted since leaving my home.
“You should be happier to be home,” I remarked as we walked up the driveway, my fingers wrapped firmly around her tiny wrist. It would be so easy to break, but I held my strength in check. She wasn’t my enemy. If anything, I pitied her.
“Why?”
“Because your mother loves you. They hired me to rescue you from those creatures.” My voice was flat. I understood the concept of love. Of family. But only in an intellectual way.
“Goools,” she said, not quite properly pronouncing them. “I know them.”
“Do you now?” I rumbled, looking down at her.
Twin sparks of blue flame stared back up at me from a face of a woman, not a girl. They burned into me so brightly that I stumbled backward with a hiss.
“Are you okay?”
Blinking, I rid myself of the vision of the woman from the alleyway. Why was she in my mind? And why was my blood burning and rushing between my legs? I turned to look back out over the very modest estate toward the city beyond as if I could somehow see her out there. As if she would be waiting for me.
“Fine,” I responded, snatching the girl’s wrist before she could dart off. Again.
I’d made that mistake shortly after extracting her. She’d run off, wasting only a few minutes but proving that children were an irritant all the same. That was why they were one of my rules.
No Gods. No Innocents. And most of all: No. Children.
My rules, however, were about those I would not kill. In my world of magic and malice, children were few and far between. They rarely survived the appetites of creatures such as ghouls long enough to be rescued. Let alone any of the stronger beings that lurked in the shadows. It was a miracle this one had been alive, let alone untouched.
Almost like she wasn’t in danger …
I looked down at her torn nightgown once again. The blood surged from my groin to my biceps. I wasn’t on anyone’s “good” list. Far from it. I was a cold-blooded killer. Enough money and I would kill anyone as long as it didn’t violate my rules.
But the idea of a father and his daughter …
With a snarl, I started marching us up to the house again, putting thoughts of the blue-eyed woman and good intentions out of my head. I had a payday waiting, and I intended to secure it.
My thick, meaty fist hammered on the door, shaking the house to its foundations.
Too many distractions tonight. I needed to return to The Place Behind and clear my mind. A good fight with Dachor would probably do the trick. Then a steak and some rest. Being on Earth, with all its scents and busyness, was always taxing. It intrigued me to no end, but prolonged periods could be overwhelming.
The door opened.
I reared in surprise as a pair of bright blue eyes poked out from the darkness within, too bright and round to be natural.
Surging forward, I wrapped a fist around their neck, hoisting them from their feet.
“What is this sorcery?” I snarled, easily lifting the large human until they were at my eye level.
“That will be enough, Rokk,” another voice said from within the shadowy interiors.
My eyes focused on the speaker. It was my employer, Abhed. His short, rotund body was hidden under a plush red robe, the type worn at night, not by a mage, though I knew he had some dabblings in magic. His house was positively infested with magical residue, though it was more like layers of very thin varnish instead of a thick coat of primer.
