Page 7 of Marked

Three

Stumbling into my apartment, I throw my belongings on the kitchen counter, not caring if they spill off the other side of it. Today sucked, and I’m over giving a shit about anything. I promptly remove the loaner shirt a crime scene tech gave me and shove it into the trashcan under the sink. I scowl down at my bra crusted in Ruby’s blood and quickly remove it as well. After shoving it in the trash next to the shirt, I make my way down the hall to the bathroom attached to my bedroom.

“For fucks sake!” I curse as I get a look at my reflection. I didn’t see it at the club, but now I can see that blood had seeped into the waistband of my slacks. The pair I bought just a few days ago.

Undoing the button, I slide them down my legs before kicking them at the wall. I tug off my panties and throw them at the pile. “Throw the whole damn outfit away at this point,” I mutter under my breath as I turn to the shower and crank it to nearly scalding.

I wait until steam starts to fill the small room before stepping under the water. A groan of delight escapes my lips as the water beats down on me. After scrubbing my body three times with extra soap to make sure all the blood is gone, I wash my hair and lean back against the cold tile.

Closing my eyes, I go through the night’s events. Putting aside the disdain for failing to mark my target, I focus on the victim. What killed her? Who? And why? Was it the man who got a dance from her? Somehow, I don’t think so.

Of course, it’s going to be my job to figure it out once the video footage proves my innocence, but where do I even begin? I’ll have to review the security feed after Jack does, but I have a feeling we won’t get much. I doubt it’ll be that easy. It never is.

Turning off the shower, I ring out my short hair and step onto the plush grey rug. After drying off, I wrap the matching towel snuggly around me and go to the kitchen to find my phone. I walk back down the hallway to the bedroom and plug my phone in, setting it down on the nightstand to charge. After pulling on a pair of hot pink, lacy boy shorts and an oversized t-shirt I stole from Seth, I flop down on the bed with a heavy sigh of exhaustion.

The pawprint burning on my skin is the only warning I get before falling through my mattress. Well, no, that isn’t right. I don’t physically fall; my soul is yanked down out of my body and thrust into a different realm. The only thing I can possibly compare it to is the free fall drop on a rollercoaster.

When the world stops spinning and the weightless feeling around me evaporates, I see three sets of shining black shoes before me. Aware I’m on my knees, I tilt my head back and look up at the triplets. Once again, they are dressed in black dress shirts, jackets, pants, and ties. Their red eyes fixed on me with matching disapproval.

“Valkyrie,” they say as one, making me flinch ever so slightly.

I climb to my feet and brush off the pale green sand from my knees. “Look, it wasn’t my fault.”

Each head tilts the same way. “Oh?”

I pull on the hem of Seth’s shirt, very aware that I’m in my underwear while facing the guardian of the underworld. “I missed her by fifteen minutes, if that. Someone murdered her before I got to her.”

“We are aware.” They comment.

I scowl at them. “You knew she was going to die?”

“Of course,” one says with a lifted brow.

“You were told to hurry, no?” Another adds with the same eyebrow cocked.

My hands ball into fists. “Yeah, but you didn’t say she was going to die that fast.”

“We cannot tell you when someone is to die. That would be breaking the rules,” the last informs me in a stern tone.

My eyes narrow. “Can you tell me who killed her?”

They pause for a second, their crimson eyes sliding over to the Styx then at each other. “The rules say we cannot.”

“Fuck the rules!” I snarl. “Whatever killed her is brutal; it tore off her head and ripped out her heart. It’s going to be my case and I need to stop it from happening again.”

They shrug in unison. “Even if we knew, we could not tell you.”

Useless threats fizzle on my tongue when the meaning of their statement becomes clear. “Wait, you don’t know? How is that possible?” When they remain silent, I rub my face in exasperation. “Alright, where’d her soul end up? I’ll ask her myself.”

Their gaze returns to mine. “It is not here.”

My lips part in surprise a moment before my brow furrows. “How is it not here?”

They give me a look that manages to insult my intelligence. “Because you did not mark her.”

Oh, right. Still, I scoff. “So, what, it’s just gone?”

“Yes.” They sigh and steeple their fingers. “Normally if you fail to mark a soul it would mean that the soul just isn’t here. The underworld is all forms of the afterlife. It is so expansive that there are different realms of it while still existing within one.”

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