little, my father would tell me stories of Malefiscus.”
“Everyone’s parents did,” Laylen pointed out as he merged the SUV into the left lane so he could pass a very slow moving minivan.
“Yeah, but my father would tell me different stories.” His jaw tightened. “Darker stories.”
“How dark of stories?” I asked, leaning forward on the console.
“Stories of how one day a descendent of Malefiscus,” he ran his fingers through his hair, letting out a stressed breath, “would bare Malefiscus’s mark.”
“Those were the kind of stories your father told you when you were little.” I stared at him, horrified. Jeez, maybe Marco and Sophia weren’t that bad.
He shrugged. “I was a little kid, so I thought it was normal. I honestly didn’t even remember his story until you mentioned your vision and how he…” He swallowed hard. “How his parents cut off his mark. I knew then that my father had to be the descendent he always told me about.”
I shook my head at him. “And you didn’t bother mentioning any of this to us because…”
“Because I don’t bother mentioning a lot of things to you.” Alex stared out the window, with his arms folded.
As I sat there thinking about Alex, and the way that he was, the thought that he might have been marked by Stephan, just like Nicholas had, crept back up into my mind.
“So did you know your father could mark people with the Mark of Malefiscus?” I asked, looking at Alex.
He shook his head. “That I didn’t.”
I rested my arms on the console and leaned forward even more, trying to get a better look at his face, so I could watch his expression when I asked the next question.
“He didn’t…I mean he didn’t mark…you, did he?” I felt horrible for asking it, but we needed to know.
He just stared at me, unblinking, not saying a word.
“Sorry, but I had to ask,” I muttered.
He kept staring at me with this serious look in his eyes. “Do you think I have the mark?”
“I don’t…a…I don’t know.” I sounded like a babbling idiot. “I don’t know what to think anymore, not with everything that’s happened.” I tried to make eye contact with Laylen so I could signal to him to help me out with this, but he was focused on the road.
“So what do you want me to do?” Alex cocked an eyebrow at me. “Strip off all my clothes and prove to you that I don’t have the Mark of Malefiscus anywhere?”
“No,” I said, and then I turned my head away and bit down on my bottom lip, hoping he couldn’t feel my increasing body temperature.
“Okay, then, I guess you’ll just have to believe me.” There was a hint of laughter in his voice.
Believe him. Was that possible? A week ago I’d have said there was absolutely no way I could believe him. But, I don’t know, things change. The idea of believing him didn’t seem as absurd as it once did.
“Well, what are we going to do now?” Laylen asked suddenly.
“We’re going to keep driving east.” Alex dropped open the glove box. “We’ll make a plan when we meet up with Aislin.”
“A plan to go to The Underworld and save my mother, right?” I said.
“If we can get the Ira back, then yes.” He started digging though the glove box and I slipped the Ira ball out of my pocket and placed it on top of the console in a Ta-da! way. He glanced over his shoulder and his eyes widened. “Where the heck did you get that?”
“I swiped it from Nicholas’s house before I left,” I said proudly.
“Nice job.” Laylen flashed me a smile through the rearview mirror.
“Impressive,” Alex added, looking very much impressed. He picked up the Ira, lifted up the lid to the middle console, and dropped the Ira down inside. Then he returned his attention back to rummaging around in the glove box.
“What are you looking for?” I asked, flopping back against the seat.
“For this.” He pulled out a first aid kit. “Your wrists need to be cleaned up. What happened to you by the way?”
I glanced down at my semi-mutilated wrist. “Nicholas chained me up to the wall and every time I jerked at the chain the metal cuffs cut into my skin.”
Alex’s jaw tightened. He hopped over the console and into the backseat, opened up the first aid kit, and took out a roll of gauze and a bottle of peroxide.
He held out his hand. “Here, let me see one of your wrists.”
I