Willing (The Un 1)

I spent part of my shower checking for that.

“Are you sure? You don’t feel a tingling? Or a throbbing? Nothing like that?”

I shake my head even though I know he can’t see it. “I’ve felt nothing from my mark.”

“Okay, that’s good.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. You would feel it through your mark if he was near you.”

I let out a sigh of relief.

Thank God.

“Did anything else happen?” Isaac asks with a touch of impatience.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him about my little slip. How I almost told him where I am.

But something holds me back.

I don’t know why, maybe it’s because I’ve already gone through so much humiliation and shame already… but I can’t bring myself to admit what I did.

The words just won’t push past my lips.

“No, nothing else happened. I was just… disturbed by the dream and feared the worst.”

Isaac’s voice softens with a mixture of relief and sympathy. “That’s understandable. It can’t be easy living on the run, like you do.”

His understanding catches me so off guard I don’t know how to respond.

No one else in the Order has ever said anything like it to me. No one. Not Sister Edna, not Father McCall, and certainly not any of the other clergy I’ve had the pleasure of interacting with. No one in the Order has ever hinted at having any sympathy or compassion for my plight.

So why does it make me feel so uncomfortable that Isaac sees me different? That he understands? He’s like a brother to me, it should feel good that he knows me and gets me.

But it doesn’t.

It feels weird and somehow a little too intimate.

“Chloe? Are you still there?”

“Yeah,” I respond out of reflex, still stuck inside my head. “I’m still here, but I’ve got to go now. I need to get ready for work.”

Isaac doesn’t even try to hide his disappointment when he says, “Oh, okay.”

And that just makes this whole thing feel even weirder.

“It was great talking to you. Thank you for being there for me. I really appreciate it!” I say quickly, ready to hang up on him.

The sudden need to end the call is growing stronger and stronger by the second.

“Of course. I’m here anytime you need me.”

“Thanks!” I say a little too cheerfully and quickly press the disconnect button.

Almost instantly, a strong sense of relief washes over me to be done with that conversation.

Before I can figure out why I’m feeling so much relief, my phone buzzes in my hand.

I know it’s from Isaac before I even look at it. Who else could it be? He’s the only one I talk to besides my roommate. And if Charity has something to say to me, she’ll bang on my door to say it.

I don’t why, but I don’t want to look at his message. I’d rather avoid it. Which is beyond strange and doesn’t make any sense.

It’s just Isaac, what’s the big deal?

So what if the end of our talk was a little awkward?

I glance at my phone, but the screen is blurry from all the water that dripped from my hair.

Making a sound of frustration, I wipe my phone quickly off on my towel and bring it back up to my face.

Issac: Call me right away if you feel anything strange.

I roll my eyes and shake my head at his paranoia.

He said it himself. My mark hasn’t done anything, so I’m safe. It was simply a stupid dream, and I was stupid for getting worked up over it.

I’m just about to set my phone back on the nightstand when my it buzzes again.

It’s another text from Isaac: And don’t roll your eyes at me. I’m serious. If your mark does anything, hide somewhere safe and call me. I’ll come right away.

Almost rolling my eyes again, I text him back: Ok.

My phone buzzes almost instantaneously.

Isaac: And don’t forget to eat something.

Five

Chloe

Putting my phone down on my nightstand, I start the process of getting ready for my day. For normal people, I imagine such a process is probably simple and easy. You throw some clean clothes on and get on with it.

But for me, it’s a little more complicated.

For my own safety there are extra steps I must take. Steps I can’t risk skipping if I don’t want to be discovered for what I am.

Besides seeing my mark, which isn’t likely given its location, the creatures that hunt women like me can identify us in other ways.

One way being our scent.

And it’s not only the shadow that hunts me that I have to worry about—it’s all of his kind. Every vampire can smell what I am.

There are hundreds, if not thousands of them plaguing our world, walking the streets after dark, and they’ll know I’m cursed if I don’t actively hide it.

No one in the Order is quite sure why, but those of us with the mark smell different from normal humans. It’s not a smell any human can smell. I’ve never smelled it myself, but I’ve been told too many horror stories about cursed girls getting grabbed off the streets after dark to question it.