Page 13 of Marked

“Touché,” I say with a sigh. “Alright then, let’s test it out. I’m not a werewolf.” He’s not either, so if he isn’t honest with me, then I know this won’t work.

“I’m not either,” he replies before giving a small smile. “Although, I’m not sure that’s actually a secret since I knew you weren’t one from our meeting on Thursday.”

“I never actually confirmed it until now.” I lift the small Cerberus figurine from my desk and run a thumb over each of the heads.

After the guardian sent me back to my body the day I met him, I became fascinated with trying to find out more about him. Greek mythology became my obsession when it turned into my reality. Mom surprised me with the figure on my fifteenth birthday, and I simultaneously hate and love it. Sometimes I envision it being the actual guardian so that I have an outlet for my frustration. After marking someone, I’ll sometimes squeeze it until my knuckles turn white. The plastic figure has proven to be damn near indestructible over the past decade.

Jack studies me quietly. “Are you going to tell me what you really are?”

My golden eyes meet his. “Are you?”

His teeth clench together. “It’s not something easily explained.”

“Same.” I echo nonchalantly, thumb brushing over the figure once again.

“May I be honest?”

I don’t look at him. “By all means.”

“Your aura is different than anyone I’ve met before. It’s touched with darkness, but not the kind that comes with evil. Does that have something to do with what you are?”

His words couldn’t have hit me harder. I can’t see my own aura, but I suppose it makes sense that it’s tainted. Still, the words sting. I take a deep breath and try to get my sudden self-pity under control. “Your aura is extremely oppressing. It’s powerful and dominant. Does that have something to do with what you are?” I echo his question while deflecting it.

“Yes.” He doesn’t hesitate. “I suppose that’s why you called me Mister Alpha.”

I run my hands through my short hair to try and hide my embarrassment. “Well, this has been lovely, Detective Khoury, but I think I’m going to go over the witness statements. Alone. You can email me should you need anything.”

He seems confused by the sudden, professional brush off but stands. “Alright then. If you have any questions, feel free to ask, Valkyrie.”

I curse the shiver that runs down my spine at the way my name sounds on his lips. “It’s Val.”

“Valkyrie suits you better.” He comments before slipping out my office and closing the door behind him.

I slouch ungracefully in my chair and release a groan. Somehow, I have a sneaking suspicion that this case is going to be one of my harder ones and not because of the victim. Pulling open my bottom desk drawer, I rummage through the loose papers and half-empty water bottles until I find the tiny bottle I knew was there.

I grumble when I look at what kind it is. I don’t mind whiskey, but somehow the tiny bottle of Jack seems too coincidental. Fate’s funny like that sometimes.

With a silent curse to whatever god is mocking me, I down the mini bottle.

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