Page 63 of Marked

“Let me guess,” Jack begins, but again his voice is soothing and calm. “Seth?”

My head snaps up to look at him, but I can’t even muster a glare. “How…?”

“The chalice,” he replies, pulling his bloodied hand away to look at the bullet hole in his shoulder. “It’s why I was so adamant about getting an answer from you.”

I clutch my phone tighter. “I don’t understand. What does that have to do with anything?”

“It’s from my homeland.” He raises his head and looks at me. “When I saw it, I thought that you were the one behind the murders. That maybe you were the one who helped Ammit escape. It wasn’t farfetched, especially since you’re a hellhound. It’s why I was so angry. I suspected you just like you are suspecting me.”

“I have every right to suspect you, Jack! The bodies started landing as soon as you showed up! You know Ammit! You’re from the same underworld as her! How am I not supposed to think otherwise?!” The tone of my voice rises as hysteria teeters on taking over.

Jack’s eyes soften again as he watches me. “I know how it looks, but it isn’t me.” He gestures at my phone. “What else did Seth say? Or did he only send the picture?”

Swallowing, I scroll down and look at the text under Taylor’s picture. “Maybe this will be an incentive to answer your phone,” I read.

“It’s been Seth since the beginning.” Jack takes a tentative step towards me. “The chalice confirmed it.”

“It’s just a cup,” I whisper, not ready to believe it.

“It’s not,” he stresses. “This chalice is Egyptian made. Not just that, but it is very, very old. It’s the kind that was left in crypts and at the base of alters. It’s impossible for anyone other than a god to have it.”

This doesn’t make any sense. “But he was with me the night Browne was killed.” I repeat, trying to find any excuse that it wasn’t Seth. “I mean, I left him to go to the club, but he would have had to follow me there and kill her without me seeing him.”

A possessive growl rumbles in Jack’s chest. “You may have been with him, but that’s not the issue. Ammit is the one killing people; Seth is the mastermind.”

“You can’t be certain that it’s him.” It can’t be true. I couldn’t have been sleeping with a murderer. Oh gods, had I been fucking two of them? When I focus on Jack again, he’s standing less than an arm’s length away from me. I quickly lift my gun again. He doesn’t try to stop me when I press it against his chest, right over his heart. “How do I know you’re not just like him? That all three of you aren’t in on this together? That I wasn’t just a pawn to you?”

“You are not a pawn to me, Valkyrie.” His fingers loosely wrap around my wrist, but he doesn’t push the gun away. “You were an unexpected surprise, but one that I am very grateful for.”

This is all too much.

The emotional rollercoaster is rapidly draining my energy, leaving me tired and wary. “I don’t know what to believe,” I whisper.

“Believe me,” Jack pleads, his thumb rubbing circles into the soft skin of my wrist. “Or, at the very least, believe that Seth is who you need to focus on. He’s the one that has Taylor.”

Taylor.

I look at my phone again, tears pricking my eyes as I take in the battered form of my friend. Before I can ask anything, the phone starts ringing, a picture of Seth with his signature cocky smirk appearing on my screen. Panicking, I look to Jack for help. He nods to the phone, his fingers sliding towards my gun. I don’t let him take it from me, but I do take it away from his chest as I answer the call.

“Ah, I thought that would get your attention.” Seth’s mocking voice says as I press the warm glass to the side of my face.

I push down my panic and latch onto the anger, letting it boost my confidence. “Why do you have Taylor?”

“Why?” he mocks. “Because you love her.”

My feet move without thought, causing me to pace across the room with a stagger in my step. I can feel Jack watching me, but I don’t look at him. I’m still not sure what to make of him or if I can even trust him. “Of course I love her. She’s my best friend.”

“Exactly,” he hisses. “You dropped me like I was nothing so I thought I would return the pain.”

“That’s not fair,” I protest. “She has nothing to do with us.” Feeling Jack approach, I whirl towards him, gun already lifting. He holds up his bloodied hands before gesturing at the phone and then to his own ear. Understanding, I put the phone on speaker.

“No, she doesn’t,” he agrees with an edge of humor. “But that doesn’t matter. You hurt my feelings and so I wanted to lash out.”

My anger flares with the sheer childishness of his statement. “Is this a joke? Are you fucking five?”

A soft growl comes through the speaker. “I would be very careful how you talk to me.”

“Seth—”

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