Mark of Damon by Eva Chase Page 0,13
washed through me, all the way past my ribs and down to my gut—and another sensation teased the edge of my awareness. It resonated like a faint hum running just beneath the surface of my skin around the demon’s mark. As I focused on it instead of the more destructive longing, the hum tickled up into my fingers. A sudden giddiness quivered through my chest. I was abruptly certain that if I simply reached out…
I pressed my hand to the pipe right by the wall, curling my fingers around the heated metal. The hum rose alongside my pulse between my ears. My throat constricted. I closed my eyes and aimed all my attention at my sense of the pipe on the other side of the wall, the cracks or gaps that might have opened up to let loose that flow of water, and the need to solder them shut any way I could.
A matching heat flared all through my body, sharpest in my forearm around the mark. With a jolt of a power I didn’t understand, it flowed from my fingers into the pipe. My heart stuttered.
Behind my eyelids, a ruddy light burst around a vague image of curving lines and joints. Even as I lost my breath, the certainty that I’d made something happen gripped me.
“Damon?” Mom said hesitantly. Her voice seeped through the dwindling rush of sensations. I blinked and stared at the pipe I was clutching. As far as I could make out, it looked exactly the same as before.
“Just… giving something else a try,” I said, only a little shakily. I steadied myself before clambering back out. My hand balked for an instant, but I convinced myself to test the tap again.
It shouldn’t work. I hadn’t really done anything. There was no reason…
The hot water hissed up to the faucet. I peered under the sink. The seconds slipped by with the ticking of the clock over the counter, and not a single drip slicked along the metal surface.
A laugh sputtered out of me. I had done it, somehow or other. I’d fixed the damned pipe by sheer strength of will.
My gaze dropped to my arm, seeing the ragged splotch of the scar in my mind’s eye even though it was hidden under the cuff.
No, it hadn’t been just will. Some sort of power had come to me through that mark—a power I’d been able to control. Magic.
Kyler was wrong. There were ways guys like us could face off against Rose’s witching society without needing all kinds of doctored tools.
The burning of the scar had faded completely. Not a twinge or a single violent impulse ran through me when I swiveled my arm at the elbow. Interesting. A surer smile crept across my face.
I’d been able to get control over the thing after all. Rose’s dad had no clue what he was talking about. I’d refused to follow the mark’s urging, and I’d transformed whatever energy it contained into a force I could use for what I wanted.
A thread of uneasiness wove through me beneath my elation. Whatever the power was, it was connected to the demon that’d wounded me.
So what? I’d shown it who was in charge. If I could use magic to right a few wrongs in the world, why the hell shouldn’t I? I couldn’t imagine even Ky with all his plans and precautions would argue with that.
“All better,” I said to Mom, turning my smile her way. “I told you that you could count on me.”
Chapter Six
Seth
Most weeks, there was nothing better than the lazy Saturday mornings when I didn’t have to worry about next week’s college assignments just yet and there was no need to go anywhere beyond the walls of Hallowell Manor. I could cut myself enough slack to linger in bed for a little while before going down to check out the cook’s breakfast offerings. If the bed I’d ended up in was Rose’s, I could even have the joy of starting her morning as well as my own in a very enjoyable way.
That particular Saturday, I woke up in my bed in the room down the hall. Jin and I had stayed up late in the sitting room talking about what he’d called “the intersection between art and architecture,” and I hadn’t wanted to disturb my consort. I stretched out on the firm mattress, absorbing the warmth of the sunlight streaming through the broad window, but it didn’t bring its usual mellow comfort. A restless twitch ran through my