Daniel Taylor Between Two Worlds (13 page)

Marla opened her eyes. She was panting for breath. It took her a moment to orient herself in the dark. When she found herself in Mike’s arms, she relaxed. But her heart kept racing, and tears flooded from her eyes. Kitana, her mother, was part watcher? Could it be? She had lived with the demons all those years! She had been a priestess of the Oracle!

The eye of Horus had concealed her identity …

She had sacrificed herself, killed herself to protect an artifact!

So much had become clear to Marla now. The scepter must be incredibly powerful, and Oberon wanted Silvan in order to obtain this power!

Marla snorted. The high lords had yet again used her as a means to an end.

Suddenly she understood why she was capable of feeling. All these years she had thought herself to be a pure-blood demon, and now she realized that she and her brother were more similar than she had thought.

Silvan … should she warn him?

Xandros scowled as he watched Oberon lead Silvan out of the great hall.

“Were you able to find out anything about the scepter’s location, lord?” Metistakles asked submissively, kneeling at Xandros’ feet.

Xandros growled. “Silvan has no idea where his father is or how to find the magical artifact. We’ll have to go about this another way. Silvan must make contact with Carpenter.”

“Does that mean he’ll have to return to the surface?”

“Exactly.” Xandros tapped his fingertips together, enjoying the feeling of powerful energy pulsating though his nerves. He was still strong.

“Marla will be able to convince her brother, lord. I can make her; I have the little one under control.”

“Yes, I’m sure you do, Metistakles. Don’t disappoint me!” Xandros called out. His voice echoed through the hall, bouncing off of the black marble walls. He watched Metistakles crawl away from him, the maggot. But he could be useful. They were all useful — even his son Antheus, who intended to deceive him. They all sought to deceive him — even his own wife had betrayed him, compelling Xandros to kill her. He had murdered the watcher-infected wench when their daughter Kitana gave birth to a girl. But his time wasn’t yet at an end. When he possessed the scepter, thanks to its power, he would rule forever!

Xandros would not set aside his claim to the throne so easily, and certainly not for a half-blood. A prophecy could be mistaken or misinterpreted. Or he could simply insure that it would never be fulfilled! The artifact would be his alone!

The trusted voice of the DJ Phil Newman woke Mike up — it must be eight-thirty, time to get ready for work. Today Mike was scheduled to work from ten to two.

He had just been with Marla. They had spent a fantastic evening together and then ended up in bed. What a great dream!

His eyes still shut, Mike groped for his clock radio. Something sharp stabbed into his finger.

“Ow!” He was immediately wide awake. He blinked in confusion at the splinters of glass that were strewn across his nightstand and on top of the radio. They glinted in the morning sunlight that infiltrated the room between the slats of the blinds.

Mike suddenly remembered the previous night and turned over. There she was: Marla. Naked and lovely, like Sleeping Beauty. Her long hair curled down her neck and across her breasts. In sitting up, he had pushed the blanket down to her hips, and for the first time he saw her long, slender figure and her colorful tattoos — as well as the bruises that covered her entire body, as though someone had brutally beaten her. Mike was deeply shocked. Oh God, what had happened last night?

He quickly pulled the blanket up to her shoulders. Was he to blame? No, no, he hadn’t done anything to Marla; he had been completely sober. He could never inflict harm on Marla!

He had also seen scars all over her body. They were so small and faded that he hadn’t felt them the previous night.

Mike’s pulse beat loudly in his ears, drowning out Phil’s weather report. With a fingernail, Mike carefully pushed the shards of glass off of the clock radio and turned it off. He wondered how the light bulb could possibly have exploded, since the lamp hadn’t even been turned on. A surge in the power grid, he guessed, but these thoughts were overridden by a queasy feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. Marla must have been in an accident, or she had been abused, or she had done this to herself. Mike had heard of people who cut or burned themselves, either to punish themselves for something or because they had a troubled relationship with their own body. It was a type of borderline personality disorder.

Marla shifted in her sleep, and Mike held his breath. How should he react?

She turned onto one side, and the blanket slipped away from her body again. Now he could see one of her breasts and a mark that looked like someone had bitten her.

Mike felt a pang in his chest.
That wasn’t me, that’s for sure!
He rubbed his temples. Did Marla have a boyfriend? Someone who treated her harshly? Did she like that kind of thing? He felt sick.

Her eyelids fluttered and finally opened.

“Good morning,” Mike said as casually as possible, trying to hide his uncertainty.

Marla looked just as confused as he probably did.

“Did you sleep well?”

“I haven’t slept so well in a long time.” She sat up, stretching and yawning, and the blanket slipped further.

She hastily pulled it back up over her breasts and stared at Mike, wide-eyed.

“I already saw,” he said quietly. Marla looked down at her white-knuckled fingers clutching the blanket.

“Who did that to you?” he asked, but Marla remained silent. She didn’t look at him.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Mike’s heart raced. He didn’t want to lose this strange girl he had fallen head over heels in love with.

She shook her head.

“Then who hurt you like that?”

Tears welled up in her eyes. Without hesitation, Mike pulled her into his arms. “Okay, we don’t have to talk about it right now, but you should know that you can tell me anything.” He stroked her back; he could see now that it was covered in welts, and he swallowed hard.
Damn it, who did this to her?

Sighing, Marla clung to him. She was trembling slightly, and he could feel her breath on his chest. He had no desire to go to work, damn it — he just wanted to stay with her and protect her forever. He wanted to find out what was wrong, but he bit his lip. If he were too intrusive, Marla might be frightened off.

She said nothing, and finally he gently shifted away from her. “Well … I have to get ready for work.” Mike felt strangely empty without her touch. But he nevertheless turned and put his feet over the side of the bed. He bent down to pick up his boxers, which were with the rest of their clothes in a messy pile on the floor. He quickly slipped them on, taking care not to step on the splinters of glass, and then went to find his spare key.

When he came back into his bedroom, he saw Marla where he had left her, the blanket pulled up to her neck. She frowned and looked questioningly at the key he held out to her.

Mike smiled timidly. “You’re acting like you’ve never seen a key before.”

“Oh, a key, right!” she said quickly, taking it from him. “You lock doors with them.”

At this point, Mike was beyond surprise. “You have a weird sense of humor.” She was strange, but he was completely in love with her. His mysterious girl …

She raised her eyebrows as though she had only just understood what the key meant. “You trust me with your house key?”

“I just want to see you again.” Mike’s heart jumped. He hadn’t even considered whether
she
wanted to see
him
again. But he didn’t want her to go back to whoever it was that had treated her so badly.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she replied in a barely audible voice, looking down again.

Mike gently raised her chin. “Please,” he said quietly. “Stay here.”

His face came closer to hers. He had to kiss her; her sensual mouth was just too inviting.

“Okay,” she breathed, and as their lips met, he knew that he would never want any girl but Marla.

Marla hurried through the torch-lit corridors, no real destination in mind. She had hoped to find her brother, but she had only encountered Sirina, who was lolling lasciviously in Silvan’s bed. She had said that her lover was still training with the high lords. Marla only wanted to speak with Silvan — to ask him whether he knew anything about this scepter and to tell him what she had learned about their mother. Silvan had no idea who his mother really was. The descendant of a watcher, the guardian of the scepter! But should she tell him? Kitana had been afraid that Silvan would fall under the power of the scepter … She’d better keep it to herself. Marla also wanted to talk to him about certain human things — naturally, without letting slip that she had been with Mike. She was suddenly frustrated that Silvan, despite being a half-blood, would soon be able to perform more powerful magic than she could; she had always been kept on such a short leash. This fueled her anger at James Carpenter … although … did she still hate him? That damn dream! If only Marla knew who was telling her the truth. Should she warn Silvan? The more Marla thought about her dream, the less certain she became. She was torn. Should she ask Obron whether her mother had really been a watcher? No, Marla knew that she should never bring up the subject of Kitana with him.

She turned in the direction of her chamber, or rather her “hole,” as she called it. Her little brother was already living like an Overlord, and she was housed with the slaves. Which is what she was. Metistakles’ servant.

Marla had once dared to ask her father whether she could have a bigger room instead of the oppressive hole in which she could scarcely turn around; it was barely large enough to hold her cot and a table. It reminded Marla of a prison cell.

Obron had grabbed her by the collar and opened a portal to the other side of the underworld. He didn’t push her through; he merely wanted to demonstrate to her how good she had it. Horrified, Marla had seen how the other demons lived: packed tightly together in damp, dirty caves, fighting over the best spots in this ghetto. So she had no reason to complain; if she did it again, Obron threatened her, he would send her to live with the lower demons.

Marla had the vague feeling that it wouldn’t be long before the downtrodden underworlders rose up against their lords. Like Marla, they were nothing more than slaves, forced to give the high lords and Xandros a portion of their soul energy …

Before Marla reached her hole, Vanessa popped into her head. Nessa would certainly be able to tell Marla about romantic feelings.

Feelings … If everything she had learned were true, then she had watcher blood in her veins.
Damn it!

Without further ado, Marla inscribed a portal on the stone wall and stepped through it into Vanessa’s bedroom.

She was disappointed to find that no one was home. Vanessa’s parents were probably working, and Vanessa herself …

School!
Marla realized and drew another portal, but Vanessa wasn’t there, either — campus was deserted. Maybe it was the weekend, or a holiday. Marla knew a little about school; she had frequently visited classes in order to learn how to read. That had been denied to her in the underworld. When Obron found out, he didn’t allow Marla to leave the underworld for months. So she visited Ilaria and read there in secret.