Moonlight's Ambassador (Aileen Travers Book 3)(19)

I sighed and held the glass carefully in one hand as I used the other to roll my right sleeve up, exposing the sorcerer's mark where it had melded with Liam's.

Blue took my arm, his fingers cool and gentle, as he tilted it so he could see it better. "Liam's marked her too."

The words brought everyone but Nathan and Eric's attention to us. The Viking set his pool cue down and advanced on us. "Where?"

Blue tugged my arm around, showing him the oak tree where it had bloomed with leaves behind the lion. "That's his mark."

Viking looked from it to me, his eyebrows lowered and a thoughtful expression in his eyes. His head swung towards Nathan. "Did you know about this?"

Nathan shrugged.

"What's the big deal about having his mark?" I asked.

Blue and Viking looked back at me, both sets of eyes more than a little impressed.

Viking's voice was a deep rumble as he said, "Liam doesn't mark yearlings. He thinks looking after them until they mature enough to be useful is a waste of his time. The only ones he ever keeps around are the ones he's made, and they were exceptional before he ever turned them."

"Has he marked you?" I asked. I knew both Eric and Nathan held his mark and was curious to see who else in this place had it as well.

Viking was wearing a t-shirt that hugged his chest and biceps lovingly. He turned his arm so I could see the forearm, where an oak tree spread its branches. Bigger than mine, his also had roots, making it similar to a Celtic tattoo I'd seen when I'd been human and thinking about getting one.

"All of his enforcers have one." Viking dropped his arm.

"I thought vampires wore the mark of their clan," I said.

The two shared a long look but refrained from commenting on my lack of knowledge. Since I didn't have the benefit of a vampire mentor willing to tutor me in all things of the fanged variety, I had to ask questions, even when it made me look like an uneducated hick. It forced me to don my reporter's mantle, thread-worn, and bug-eaten, as it was.

"Normally, that would be so. Enforcers are different. We're a clan unto ourselves. Instead of sharing the bond of blood or the same creator, we have chosen to be part of this fellowship and have passed rigorous testing for the honor," Viking said, watching me carefully. "Makoto is new to our ranks, so his is only partially formed."

Blue raised his arm and showed me the tattoo on his forearm. It was small and only sported a few scraggly branches. The green was faint and barely there in places.

I touched mine. Why was mine full of leaves and in full color when Makoto's was still in the beginning stages? It was a question I hesitated to ask in case there were ramifications that might make dealing with the enforcers difficult. Makoto had already demonstrated a speed far superior to my own. In a fight, I would lose. I wanted to keep things on as even a keel as possible. They might not be allowed to kill me, but vampires, even baby ones, could take a lot of damage before kicking the bucket. With the assistance of an older vampire to heal wounds, a lesson taught by these guys could get very painful indeed.

Neither one commented on the difference between mine and Makoto's mark for which I was grateful.

"What are you playing?" I asked to change the subject.

Makoto spared the screen a glance. "Halo. Ever play?"

I nodded. "A time or two."

That was a lie. Military guys loved this game, and to fit in, I'd learned. Not to mention, it felt good to beat their asses at something they assumed men were superior at.

Makoto's smile was slow and crafty. "Looks like we got a challenger, boys."





CHAPTER FIVE

"NO! HOW ARE you doing that?" Makoto howled as his screen exploded in red.

I smirked, my character on screen swerving, as I made for the spot he’d have to cross when he re-spawned. That was the third time in a row where I’d sniped him before he could do much more than pick up some extra grenades.

"Who cares how?" Anton said, his voice delighted. "She's kicking your ass. That's all that matters."

I was kicking his ass, and it felt awesome. Makoto was good. Better than I was, to be honest. I had to work my ass off to kill him as many times as I had. It helped that he underestimated me early on, giving me the opportunity to snap up the sniper rifle and a few other key items. All I had to do after that, was sit back in a few key spots, waiting for him to show. Then, it was a red parade for him.

I think even Eric was impressed. It was kind of hard to tell because the extent of his facial expression was a slight twitch of his lips as I, yet again, sniped Makoto's avatar from across the city.

Makoto cursed as the game kicked him back to a different part of the map. My avatar took off to get a bead on the grenade launcher I had a feeling he was going after next.

"Anton?" a feminine voice asked from the hallway. Pretty brown eyes in a heart-shaped face peered anxiously into the room.

"Catherine, my dearest. What is it you need?" Anton said, his voice lazy from where he sat watching me decimate Makoto.

Catherine stepped inside, her gaze flitting around. She was a pretty woman, human and delicate looking. That was all I had time to notice before being forced to return my attention back to the TV or risk losing my advantage.

"I thought you were coming to my room tonight," Catherine said, her voice holding the faintest edge to it.