A Book of Spirits and Thieves - Morgan Rhodes Page 0,106

“Got to say, I’m totally ready to forgive and forget.”

He’d expected her to respond with a flustered denial, but she just continued to study him.

“Is this really you?” she asked.

“Not sure what you mean.”

Crys shook her head, then took off her glasses and put them in her purse. She placed the book down next to her, then moved across to sit next to him.

He eyed her, now intrigued.

“My mother said the mark you get . . . it can change things. The magic messes with your mind, makes you loyal even though you might feel anything but. Did it do that to you?”

Her mother had said that, had she?

Farrell frowned as he glanced down at his arm where Markus had given him both his first and second marks. He remembered how much it’d hurt as the golden dagger sliced through his skin, the alarming amount of blood that had dripped to the floor. Then the pain of the healing before everything felt better.

He brushed his fingers over his skin. “I’m not sure what I really feel anymore. Sometimes it’s difficult to think straight. Do you think that might be because of the mark?”

“Maybe.” She searched his gaze, her breath quickening. Then she grabbed hold of his hand. “Maybe it doesn’t have to be this way. Maybe you can fight against his power over you. You could help me—me and Becca.”

She drew even closer, so close that her addictive strawberry scent enticed him more intensely than ever.

“Do you have any idea how good you smell, Crystal Hatcher?” He reached forward and threaded his fingers into her hair. She watched him carefully, warily, but didn’t try to pull away. “And do you know how absolutely beautiful you are?”

“Farrell . . .”

“I don’t know what to do. Markus’s pull . . . the pull he has over all of us . . . it’s so strong. So hard to fight.” He moved closer, focused on her lips.

“It must be.”

“I have heard of one way to break the power this mark has over me, but I’d need your help. Would you help me, Crys?”

“Of course I would,” she said, breathless. “How can I help?”

He’d drawn so close he could almost brush his lips against hers. “To break the mark’s control, I need to . . . have sex with a really gullible blonde.”

She reared back from him, her expression going from hopeful to outraged in a split second. Then she smacked him, hard, across his face.

“Ow!” He laughed and rubbed his cheek as she scooted back to her side of the limo.

“I hate you.”

“Didn’t look like it a moment ago. Word to the wise, sweetheart, even if this mark did make me Markus’s loyal and unquestioning servant”—he held up his left forearm—“I’d be okay with it. I’ve never felt better in my life. And as far as how I feel about you? I don’t feel anything at all. Markus asked me to bring you to him, and that’s what I’m doing.”

“So loyal. Like a trained poodle.”

There was a time not long ago when an insult like that might have incensed him. Tonight, all he felt was calm. He lit a cigarette, not even registering that she gave him a venomous look as he blew the smoke in her direction.

His phone buzzed and he glanced down at the screen to see a text from Adam.

where are you? want to see a movie tonight?

It seemed that his brother had finally forgiven him for what happened at Firebird.

Sorry, I’m on a date with Felicity, he answered. Won’t be home for a couple hours.

Sam was driving them to the same cathedral where he’d met Lucas on the day of his fateful meeting with Markus. It seemed like a thousand years ago—back when he’d been full of doubt about what was to come, back when he’d still been so tormented by his older brother’s suicide.

So much had changed in a matter of days. Now he barely thought about Connor at all. The dead were gone—no reason to give them any further thought.

Sam pulled the limo up to the curb and opened the back door, averting his eyes as Farrell and Crys got out. The chauffeur knew something was up but was smart not to ask any questions.

“You can head off now, Sam. I’ll call you when I’m done,” Farrell told him.

“Yes, sir.” Sam glanced at Crys for a split second before he got back in the car and drove away.

“All right, let’s go,” Farrell said. “And just a warning: