Marked (2 page)

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Authors: Sarah Fine

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Contemporary, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Dystopian

BOOK: Marked
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CHAPTER TWO

C
acy plowed past the rows of ambulances parked in the cavernous garage and stumbled through the back door to the locker room, grateful to hit AC again. As soon as she made her less-than-graceful entrance, the guys greeted her with their usual teasing-but-affectionate wolf-whistle welcome. She curtsied elaborately and headed down the hall to the doorway of her brother’s office. He looked up from his computer screen and smiled. “Hey. How was the press conference?”

“It went off without a hitch, but it would have been nice if you’d come, too.”

Dec ran a hand over his hair, leaving it standing on end. “He has
you
.”

She walked into the room and stood next to her brother. He had the same ice-blue eyes as their father, the same inky-black hair of his youth, the same elegantly handsome features. She tapped the Scope hanging from the chain around his neck. “Does he have you?”

Dec’s face flushed as he looked down at the screen where the scheduling board was displayed. His shift had been over for an hour, but he hadn’t yet changed out of his uniform. “It’s hard to get the day off when you’re the Chief. And you know I do my part. I shuttled three souls through the Veil during my lunch break. While you and the rest of them were at the press conference.”

She pinched Dec’s cheek. “Sounds like you need a nap.” Ferrys were human, but they required a mere hour of sleep per day, which was the only way she and Dec could maintain their day jobs and still fulfill their family responsibilities.

Dec rose from his chair. “Are they still staring at the videowall in there?”

Cacy shrugged. “Was it that big a deal?”

Dec gave her a look that said she should know better. Normally, the news of a CEO’s retirement wouldn’t interest their fellow paramedics at all. And they had no idea what the Ferrys’ business really was, no idea how the Psychopomps empire touched their lives . . . and maybe their deaths . . . every day. The only thing they cared about was that Patrick Ferry had bought the struggling EMS department from the city and funded the renovation of every EMS station in Boston the year Cacy became a paramedic and joined her brother at the Chinatown station.

It had been her father’s velvet revenge after Cacy turned down a cushy white-glove position at his corporate office—and left his side for the first time in eight years. All
she’d
wanted to do was find her own way, but
he’d
accused her of abandoning him. So
he’d
made himself an instant hero to every paramedic in Boston, and Cacy had been dubbed a “princess.”
She’d
had to scrape and fight for every shred of her colleagues’ respect.

Every night. For the last seven years.

Dec threw a thickly muscled arm over her shoulders and whispered in her ear, pulling her from her thoughts. “Finally found you a new partner.”

She tensed and reached for her own Scope, which suddenly felt heavy around her neck. Her last ambulance crewmate had been killed in the line of duty a month ago.
She’d
escorted him through the Veil personally. The only problem—when she flipped her Scope and opened what turned out to be a portal to Hell,
he’d
tried to escape.
She’d
had to hunt him down and cram him, screaming and clawing, through the portal.

She’d
done it tons of times before, just not to someone
she’d
done shots with.

“Why can’t I keep Trevor?”

Dec chuckled. “And here I thought you hated the Kere.”

“That’s because most of them are bloodthirsty assholes who enjoy the pain they cause. But Trevor’s all right. He’s different.”

“You just want to work with someone who can’t die, you coward. Anyway, Trevor misses his day shifts. Your new partner’s a regular human, but he seems pretty durable.”

“Is he a transfer?”

Dec nodded.

That was good news. It meant the guy wasn’t a newbie. It meant he knew what they were facing out there. She relaxed a little. “Which station?”

Dec frowned. “Um.”

She twisted from her brother’s grasp so she could stand in front of him. “Dec?”

He shrugged. “Wilkinsburg.”

“Wilkin-
what
? Where’s that?”

He watched her carefully. “Near Pittsburgh.”

“You let some freaking refugee desert-dweller into our crew? And you assigned him to
me
? Do you think I enjoy watching my partners die?”

Dec took hold of her shoulders and shook her lightly, a warning in his eyes. “I’m having a hard enough time staffing two-person crews, let alone the four we need to run right. Eli’s an experienced paramedic, and—”

“Yeah, if you’ve got a snakebite or a cactus splinter—”

He clamped his broad hand over her mouth. “You’re going to show him the ropes. I’d have taken him on myself, but I’m still trying to get Carol settled in. Len’s got a new partner, too, so he couldn’t help. You’re the next-best thing.”

She punched him not so lightly in the chest, and his hand fell away. “I’m the
best
thing,” she snapped—and realized
she’d
fallen into Dec’s trap.

Dec grinned. “Go get changed so you can start proving it.” He swatted her butt and shoved her toward the locker room. “Be nice, little sister,” he said in a sweetly sarcastic voice.

Cacy shot him the finger and stalked into the locker room. She and the other female paramedics had an aisle to themselves. It was the only privacy they got, but the guys—most of them, at least—were really respectful. Besides, Cacy wasn’t modest.

Which was good, because
she’d
just taken off her T-shirt and bra when Trevor appeared out of thin air beside her. “Sneaky bastard,” she yelped as she fell against her locker.

He grinned and steadied her with incredibly warm hands. The Kere ran hot, and Trevor was no exception. In more ways than one. The man was six and a half feet of chocolaty hotness. The fact that he was gay hadn’t stopped Cacy from enjoying a few elaborate fantasies about the two of them in the back of her rig. The fact that he was a living personification of death . . . well . . . that hadn’t stopped her, either.

Trevor patted the top of her head. “Dec told me you finally have a new partner, so I stopped by to give you my condolences.”

Cacy’s stomach dropped. “Tell me he’s not Marked already. It’s his first freaking day.”

He glanced down at the inside of his forearm, rubbing it like it ached. “Not on my list.”

Trevor and the rest of the Kere were responsible for Marking—and presiding over the gory, disease-ridden, pain-filled deaths—of humans who had drawn the short straw of fate. Few Kere interacted with humans as equals, and few had day jobs (they didn’t need to, since Ferrys had to split the death commission with them). Still fewer actually cared
about people. That’s where Trevor was an exception. For whatever reason, he wanted to stay connected to the humanity
he’d
lost a century ago when he sold his soul to become a Ker.

Trevor raked his gaze over Cacy’s bare breasts. “This is a good look for you, little Ferry. Should I call Len over here?”

“Fuck off,” she said, laughing. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

The grin fell from his face. And that could only mean one thing.

She laid her hand on his cheek. “Hey. How many lives did you save during your paramedic shift today?”

His eyes met hers. “I don’t know. We went on twelve calls.” He threw his massive shoulders back. “I delivered a baby on the way to the hospital. The little guy couldn’t wait to be born.”

“How many lives are you about to take as a Ker?” she whispered.

“Nine,” he mouthed.

Shit.
It was going to be a busy night if the Marked were in the Chinatown emergency response zone. Cacy cringed inwardly but said, “So in the balance, you saved more than you destroyed. It’s a good day.”

He smiled sadly and pulled her into a hug. “I’m going to miss riding with you, Cacy.”

“Bullshit,” she mumbled against his chest. “You’re thrilled to be back on first shift. You’ll get to hit the clubs again.”

He chuckled. “But I’ll be dancing with tears in my eyes.”

“Hey, Trevor, do you know where—? Oh, sorry,” said a voice that carried the slightest of western twangs.

Trevor’s arms fell away from Cacy as they both turned. The newcomer’s emerald-green eyes widened, and his cheeks flushed dark pink. “
So
sorry, ma’am,” he muttered, but he didn’t seem able to tear his eyes away from her breasts.

Trevor snorted. “Boy, you are so fresh it’s sweet. Sergeant Eli Margolis, meet your new partner, Lieutenant Cacia Ferry. Cacia, Eli.” He waved his hand back and forth between them.

Cacy put her hands on her hips, praying the men in front of her would attribute her hard nipples to the fact that the room was cold. But in truth,
damn
. The newbie was going to take some getting used to. His short dark-blond hair was streaked with gold and platinum, like the sun loved him. His skin was tanned but not scarred or blistery like so many these days. She couldn’t choose which part of him to stare at first, so her eyes just bounced all over, from high cheekbones to square jaw to broad shoulders to lean hips. She almost asked him to turn around so she could admire the rear view.

Her new partner was sex on a stick.

Which sucked, since she had no intention of going anywhere near said stick. Or any other part of him. “You never seen a pair of breasts before, Sergeant Desert Boy?” she snapped.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips as his piercing gaze hit her. He gave her a sweet half-apologetic smile. “None like yours, Lieutenant City Girl.”

Trevor threw his head back and laughed. “This is a match made in . . . somewhere. What did you need, Eli?”

Eli’s eyes didn’t leave Cacy’s face. “Her. That’s all.”

Rebellious little shards of pleasure streaked down Cacy’s spine. She shivered and turned toward her locker. “You found me. Give me five minutes and I’ll meet you at rig four-three-six.”

She actually only needed a minute to get dressed. She needed the other four to freaking
pull
herself together
.

“Yes, ma’am,” Eli said. She looked over her shoulder to read the expression on his face, but he was gone.

Trevor tugged lightly at the back of her ponytail. “I can’t tell if your day just got a lot better or a lot worse.”

“I’m not sure, either,” she muttered.
She’d
sworn off guys a few years ago, the night
she’d
had to escort her last boyfriend to the Afterlife. And Trevor knew that, because
he’d
been the one to Mark the guy for death. It hadn’t been personal. Brian’s name had simply come up on Trevor’s list, and Trevor had done his job. So Cacy had guided her boyfriend to Heaven, just not the heaven
she’d
planned at the start of the evening. Then
she’d
split the commission with Trevor, drunk herself into serious oblivion, and decided getting involved with anyone else wasn’t worth the pain.

“Be safe out there, Cace. It’s gonna be a long night. Sorry in advance.” Trevor leaned in, kissed her cheek, and walked away. Off to wreak havoc Cacy would have to clean up. Off to shed the blood
she’d
no doubt be washing out of the back of her rig by morning. Off to reap a soul
she’d
probably have to escort to Heaven or Hell on her coffee break.

CHAPTER THREE

E
li stood by rig 436, pulling at one of the dozens of zippers on his bulletproof, waterborne bacteria–repelling paramedic uniform. It would take some getting used to, like most things in this place. Especially Lieutenant Cacia Ferry.

By the time
he’d
showered and met with the Chief, Eli had convinced himself it would be no big deal to have her as a partner.
He’d
worked with tons of female paramedics in the past.
He’d
never been anything but professional. And this would be just like that. Nothing but professional.

Then
he’d
come face-to-face with her. Now he would spend the rest of his shift trying to get the image of her breasts, rose-pink nipples pearl-hard and mouthwatering, out of his head.

“Chief’s
sister
,” he whispered to himself.

A buzzing vibration coming from one of his pockets pulled him from his thoughts. He pried out his cell and looked down at it.
Here safely. Apartment is great! And check out my lab! I think I’ll call this handsome fellow ‘Danny.’ Hope your first day at the job is going well. XOXO

Danny?
In the time it took for Eli to wonder who the hell Galena was talking about, the text dissolved and a picture appeared. His sister was posing with her arm around a broad flat-screen computer, its holographic projections throwing all sorts of odd squiggles across the snapshot.

Of course. Danny. Her new computer.

He smiled, relieved, as he shot back a reply and tucked his phone in his pocket.
She’d
always worked hard, and she hadn’t let what had happened to her slow her down. If anything,
she’d
driven herself harder after the attack, trying to regain her sense of control. And it had really paid off; this faculty position in the Harvard University Immunology Department was a dream come true for her. Eli just wished she wouldn’t spend so much time alone. He hoped there were actual people in that lab facility and not just machines. It’d be nice if Galena made a friend or two.

Eli focused his gaze on the alcove next to the locker room entrance. A videowall there kept up a rotating feed of the different sectors of their station’s emergency response zone. He stared at the teeming canals and sidewalks. So many people. So many problems. The population of the city had swollen in the last few years as Boston became one of the few remaining cities with modern conveniences. Electricity. A (barely) functioning police force and fire department. Hospitals still stocked with antibiotics and anesthetics.
Luxuries.

“Feeling prepared, Desert Boy?” Cacy called as she strode into the garage. Her uniform clung to her body, revealing lush, round hips and shapely legs.

Eli flashed a smile at her and looked back at the videowall, trying to ignore the sudden tightness in his pants. “I’m always prepared, Lieutenant.”

Dec had told him about the dangers of the canal zones, and in the city in general. It didn’t sound any worse than what
he’d
faced on the streets of his hometown or during his stint as an Army Ranger.

Cacy yanked open the rear doors of the ambulance and climbed in, where she began systematically checking each compartment in the back, mumbling to herself about self-perpetuating saline gel, chemical defib solution, and fast-acting antibiotic boosters.

The back of the rig dipped as Eli climbed in to join her. She glanced at him irritably and wiped her hand over the back of her neck, drawing his gaze to a delicate platinum necklace that hung there. A circular pendant with some sort of bird etched onto its surface dangled from the chain. She saw him looking and tucked it into the collar of her uniform.

Cacy sat down on the side bench and slid toward the cab of the vehicle. She looked down at the bench and made a face. “Could you grab some Powderkleen and wipe this? I don’t know what day shift got up to in here, but I sure as hell don’t want to sit in what they left behind.”

Eli did as she asked, grateful to have something useful to do. He sneaked glances at her as he worked, admiring the absolute comfort with which she maneuvered around the rig. It was clear she had little tolerance for things being out of place. He was the same way, so it was a relief to have a partner who cared about those details as much as he did. Details saved patients’ lives.

She opened the front left cabinet and counted the rounds in the tranq guns. Dec had gone over the rules of engagement with him earlier. Eli had never wielded a tranq gun before, but he figured he could get the hang of it quickly should the need arise. He had plenty of experience with street violence, but in this city, he planned to focus on defending himself against it . . . instead of causing it.

Cacy leaned into the front seat. He wondered if she was aware of the amazing view she offered as she bent over to tap the nav screen by the steering wheel. He gritted his teeth and looked down at the bench, where
he’d
been scrubbing hard . . . about six inches away from the sticky spot that needed it.

He paused in his work, deciding this might be a good time to clear the air between them. “You don’t seem thrilled to have a new partner, Lieutenant. Seems too soon to be personal, but in case it is, I apologize again if I offended you earlier.”

“By eye-fucking me in the locker room, you mean?” she asked casually, not bothering to turn around.

He stared at the dangerous curves of her backside. Her tone hinted a challenge, which drew a smile to his lips. “Was it good for you, too?”

Her shoulders shook, and he wondered if she was laughing. But then she made a disgusted sound and grabbed something from the front passenger seat. She turned around and held out a small colorful box. “Want some mockolate? It’s the high-end stuff. My father once got us the real thing, and I swear this tastes just like it. You have this kind of thing in the desert?”

Eli peered at the box. “No, can’t say I’ve ever seen that.”

“Seriously?” She ripped off the lid of the box and plopped down on the bench. There was a raw, spicy-sweet scent to her that he couldn’t quite place, but it made his heart race. He scooted back a few inches and sat on the floor of the rig.

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re offering me candy? Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

She gave him a thoroughly seductive smile and plucked a creamy-dark square of mockolate from its crinkled paper nest. “Nope. It means I’m willing to share Len’s please-screw-me gift with you.”

His mouth dropped open. She took advantage of his surprise and popped the piece of candy between his lips. His mouth snapped shut as deep, earthy sweetness melted on his tongue. His eyes rolled back and he moaned. “Wow.”

When he recovered enough to open his eyes, Cacy was staring at him with a slightly glazed look. But then she brusquely crammed the lid back on the box and jumped out of the ambulance. “Don’t get used to it,” she called over her shoulder.

This woman was giving him a serious case of whiplash. He leaned out the rear of the rig to watch her.

Len stalked into the garage, carrying his med kit. He scowled and raked a hand over his buzz cut when he saw Cacy about to dump the candy into the trash bin.


Really
, Cace? That cost a fortune!”

She shoved the box against his broad chest. “Don’t spend a cent of your hard-earned paycheck on this stuff, Len. It’s not going to get you anywhere with me.”

For some reason, her statement lifted Eli’s mood. More than it should have.

Len opened the box, peeked in, and grinned. “You ate one. I must be making progress.”

For some reason,
that
statement made every muscle in Eli’s body tense. He hopped off the rear deck of the ambulance and strode toward them. “Uh, no. That was me. Amazing stuff, Len. Thanks for sharing—with
us
.”

Len’s eyes narrowed to slits. He opened his mouth to say something but got cut off by the screech of the wireless alert. They turned toward the videowall in the alcove and listened to the dispatcher’s voice:
“Mass casualty incident at the intersection of High and Pearl. Multiple units requested. Caution advised. Fire crews and law enforcement not yet on scene.”

Len and Cacy cursed in unison when they saw what appeared on the videowall. Dec had told Eli that the city’s surveillance cams, as well as most private home and business cams, were hooked into the emergency call system. When someone placed a call, the feeds from that location were automatically displayed on their screens so they could see what they were up against. It was an impressive system, something they could have used in Pennsylvania. It might have saved some paramedics’ lives.

Tonight they were treated to a view of twisted metal and fiery wreckage. Len ran up to the screen and zipped his fingers along its surface, already yelling at his crew. “AV and NMOB collision!” He enlarged the screen capture and flipped it around, giving everyone a 360-degree view of the disaster. “Multiple casualties in the water. Mobilize four-two-zero, four-three-six, four—”

Cacy grabbed Eli’s arm and tugged him into motion. “Come on. We’re four-three-six.”

Eli kept up with her easily as they sprinted for their ride. “AV and NMOB?”

Cacy didn’t miss a beat. “Amphibious vehicle and nonmotorized multiple-occupancy boat. Some jackass didn’t look both ways and crashed into a boatful of refugees. Third time this month. I’ll drive.”

“You’re the boss, Lieutenant,” he said as he split off from her and rounded the ambulance to jump into the passenger seat.

Cacy swung herself up into the cab and punched the ignition code. “Seat belt, Desert Boy.”

She tapped the red square on the nav screen, and the ambulance bay doors whooshed open. Eli sat back and watched her slender fingers grip the steering wheel. She glanced over at him. “Ready for your first mass casualty in our fair city?”

There it was. Another challenge. Eli smiled. “I think I can handle it.”

“We’re about to find out if you’re right.” She flipped the siren on and hit the gas.

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