Claiming Marcus (Lords of Discord 1)

That was a lovely image.

And yet, he was still sitting there, waiting for some word or reassurance from Marcus. Why? Because Marcus paid well? Because he treated Ethan with kindness and respect? Because Marcus was some hot guy with the most adorable smile?

Or was it that Marcus was his only real chance at finding out the truth about what happened to his family?

Ethan groaned against his legs. There was a good chance that it was a combination of all those reasons, and that didn’t make him feel too great about himself.

He waited another half hour, but there were no more shouts or cries of pain from the library. Shoving against the wall and floor, Ethan slowly hoisted himself to his feet. His body protested the movement. The hardwood floor had been incredibly uncomfortable, but walking suddenly felt worse. He shuffled toward the kitchen and dug through the cabinets and closets until he finally located the cleaning supplies. There was no going back to sleep anytime soon, and he wasn’t leaving. Might as well do something useful, starting with getting rid of all this damn blood on every surface.

And if he was lucky, the physical labor would help him clear his head and maybe find some answer as to why the hell he was so determined to stick close to Marcus when it was obvious the man was the center of violence and danger. Two things Ethan didn’t need in his life.

Chapter Ten

Marcus poured the last of the bagged blood into a glass. He tossed the bag into a nearby trash can, mentally noting that he’d have to empty the garbage before Ethan returned to the house. Bagged blood was a good filler, but for some reason it wouldn’t hold a vampire over for an extended period of time. The longer the blood was in the bag rather than running through the human, the less power it contained. Blood straight from the source held the most power when it came to healing and satisfying hunger cravings. There was no surviving strictly off bagged blood.

Luckily Rafe had been with them. They’d managed to get Bel to two donors before they made it to Marcus’s house. Rafe was the only one among them who could blur the memories of a human. It seemed to be part of his special gift to charm humans. Bel had fed deeply, but both humans were left alive and unconscious in a safe location before the brothers arrived at Marcus’s town house.

The infusion of blood had helped to slow the bleeding, but the wounds on his chest were so extensive, Marcus knew Bel would need a few days to fully heal. At least on a physical level. Emotionally, Marcus wasn’t sure if Bel would ever recover.

Earlier in the evening, Bel had sent out a text that Julianna was having a bad night. Rafe had immediately replied, asking if he needed some help, but Bel didn’t answer. Marcus waited roughly a half hour. Sometimes Bel got distracted and didn’t check his phone right away. Julianna hadn’t had a truly bad night in nearly a year. They’d each been able to manage her alone.

Winter sent another text to Bel, and their brother hadn’t answered. Something was wrong.

Marcus had raced to Bel’s house, knowing Rafe and Winter were doing the same thing. He arrived first, but Rafe was right on his heels. Charging into the old house, they found their mother straddling Bel’s chest, both of them covered in his blood. His shirt had been shredded, and there were more cuts on his face as if she’d raked her nails across his cheeks. He was lucky to have not lost an eye.

But the worst, it was like she was trying to dig into his chest and pull out his heart. She was screaming nonsense, claiming that he was evil, that he needed to be destroyed. They all needed to be destroyed.

Marcus had pulled their mother off Bel and subdued her as best he could without hurting her while Rafe worked to stop the bleeding. Bel had only tried to protect himself. They all knew he never raised a hand toward her. None of them would willingly harm their mother. This wasn’t her fault. There was something horribly broken in her mind, and no matter what they tried, they could never fix her.

The best they could do was play for her.

For some reason, the music reached the calmer parts of her mind. It soothed her when nothing else could.

Thank God Winter arrived a couple of minutes after Rafe with his guitar in hand. He said nothing, barely even looking over at Bel. He just sat right in front of where Marcus had their mother held and started playing. It was a soft, lilting melody that reminded Marcus of water trickling down from leaf to leaf in a forest before finally slipping into a playfully babbling brook.