The Marquis (The 13th Floor)

Chapter 12


“Hm, what sort of cliché line can I spout off right now? The tide has changed. I have the upper hand now. Ha ha!” Vetis laughed at his own joke. Neither Mae nor the Marquis made a sound. Then his face went hard and cold. “I think it all boils down to: you’re f*cked. Now get over here and kneel down before me or I’ll tear out her pretty little throat.”

Mae remained absolutely still, biting her lower lip. The Marquis kept his gaze upon her as he walked over. Every ounce of fear within her made his anger rise tenfold. He went to his knees, glaring at Vetis.

“Excellent.” Vetis nodded once. His nose had already straightened and the bones were slipping back into place in his face. It was as if little bugs under his skin were moving things around. “Here’s what’s going to happen. Anything I tell you to do, old man, you’re going to do. You’re going to kill those women as you should have done and then we’re going back to Hell a happy threesome. You will bow before our Master and let everyone know it was me who brought you back. Me.”

“No, Marc.” Mae barely moved her lips. Fat tears broke free of her long lashes. “My life is only one. Don’t kill those women.” She whimpered as Vetis dug in his nails a little deeper.

Her life was the greatest one. The only one that mattered. The Marquis knew she wouldn’t understand it. She always sacrificed so much for others. Why shouldn’t others sacrifice for her? They were only a few women. He could kill them, give him time to think of how to free her. There was no way he could let Vetis take her to Hell. That was a death sentence itself.

“I’ll do it, but Mae’s not coming to Hell. You’ll release her.”

“I think you’re missing the point here. She’s my insurance. The second I release her, you’ll kill me.” Vetis raised his brows as if to challenge the Marquis to say it wasn’t true.

“I give you my word.” The Marquis held up his chin.

“No.” Mae pleaded. “No. Please, don’t do it. It doesn’t matter what happens to me.”

“Ah, but it does matter. That’s the only reason you’re still alive, sweetcakes,” Vetis said near her ear. “As for your word, old man, no. Never trust a demon. You’ll do as I say right now, or she’ll suffer the consequences.”

No witty remark. No little dance. Vetis had run out of tricks. The Marquis’ hands itched to rip Vetis’ head from his shoulders.

A few nights ago, he had barely enough power to create an illusion to try to frighten Vetis off. Now the power was burning through to incinerate his very core. He had felt pitiful, even helpless that night. Detestable emotions. It sickened him. What the Marquis was he loathed, but at least he had power.

Vetis was doing it again. He had no control as long as he wanted Mae to live. She was the perfect tool to manipulate him, and Vetis would use her to whatever ends his beastly heart desired. He couldn’t allow it. This had to end now.

“Mae,” the Marquis breathed out her name. “He’s right. You do matter. You matter more than anyone else has ever mattered to me. I can’t let him take you to Hell. You belong to Heaven.”

As soon as the ball of fire appeared in his hand, he threw it. There was no point in dragging this out for any of them. The world shattered as it hit Mae. The look on her face. It was as if he died too. Vetis immediately dropped her, and she fell to ground screaming.

The Marquis howled and pounced upon the other demon. They rolled, each trying to get the upper hand. Flames brewed between them. Desperation drove Vetis, but the Marquis had something much more powerful ready to tear him apart from the inside out.

Mae’s screams cut off in mid-shriek.

Vetis kicked upward, attempting to catapult the Marquis. The Marquis held on and used the momentum to take Vetis with him. He slammed Vetis into the cornerstone of a building and followed it with a fist to his face, crushing his head.

“Never again.” With those words, the Marquis released the full force of his inner fire.

Vetis’ cry didn’t even get a chance to escape from between his lips as his body ignited and was cremated in the same second. The pile of dust that was a greater demon fell with a soft whoosh and blew over the Marquis’ feet.

He threw back his head and howled. The rush of victory. The power.

A few of the women screamed. He could smell their fear. Ripe and mordacious. He turned to breathe it in all the more. They huddled by the fountain. And across the street, her body was still.

Mae.

The ache in his chest eradicated his triumph. The Marquis ran over to her side and collapsed onto his knees. His hand hovered over hers. Something burbled up in his throat. No growl or roar. If he saw someone else doing it, he would call it a sob.

It was his fault. Mae. She—

Her hand lifted and took hold of his. A soft hand with no blisters or burns. Mae smiled as she sat up and it was as if the sun had risen for the first time in a dark world. This time the sob did break free even thought it sounded a bit like a wolfish snort.

His illusion had worked. She was alive.

“Marc, you did it.” She glanced over at the other women and further relief spread across her face. “You saved us all.”

The Marquis shook his head. “It was my fault. All of it. None of this wouldn’t have happened—”

“Shush.” Mae held up a finger, touching his mouth. He knew it had to disgust her, but she was gentle. “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t. All those people out there are alive. I’m alive. You’re alive. And it’s because of you.”

“I took a big risk. If Vetis wasn’t so shocked by what I did, he might have noticed you weren’t really burning.” He squeezed her hand. He couldn’t stop himself. He wanted to hold on and never let go. Though he knew it couldn’t be. Not for him.

“You had to take the risk and I’m so grateful you did. Stop thinking about what might have happened. It’s over.” Mae caressed his cheek. He flinched as if she had hit him. She was too good to be touching a demon. He was a monster.

“It’s over.” He agreed and started to rise. “Everything’s over. I should leave now.”

“No.” Mae had a firm grip on his hand and pulled him back down. She rose up onto her knees, trembling but not letting go. Still not close to his height, but she didn’t have to crane her head as much. “You’re not running away from this. You’re Carmine’s hero. My hero.”

“I’m a demon.” The Marquis growled and gestured to himself. “Look at me. I’m no hero. I’m undeserving of anyone’s forgiveness.” He twisted away and she pulled him back as if he were a ragdoll.

“Whatever you once were, you’re different now. So you look the same on the outside, scary teeth and big horns. Inside, you’re something else. Inside, you’re a good man. You have to forgive yourself. That’s the first step on the road to absolution.” Mae refused to let go when he tried to tear away from her again. “You’re a good man, and I love you.”

The Marquis fell forward, head on her lap. His sobs shook his body as she stroked his head. He loved her more than anything. He thought it might drive him insane to know she truly loved him in return. His heart swelled and brought on tears of another sort. All his years, even those in Carmine, he’d never thought there was more for him. Never thought he was deserving. Now there was that beautiful pinprick of hope.

With Mae, anything was possible.

He sat, trembling more than he’d like to admit, and cupped her face. “I love you too.”

When he kissed her, it wasn’t with fangs or a muzzle. It wasn’t with the fires of Hell searing through his body. It was with soft lips and the tickle of his last few whiskers. A tender passion full of promise.

“My hero,” Marc murmured as he smiled against her mouth. Supple and sweet. More tender than her best baked pie.

The morning sun peeked out with pinks and golds. He could almost feel the warmth of those rays.

“Kiral!” Marc was fast on his feet. Was there still time to save his friend?

Mae clasped one of his hands with both of hers, an expression that seemed to be a mixture of confusion and fear. He refused to let go or force her to do so.

“My friend. Vetis left him chained to the roof. The sun will kill him.” Knowing she couldn’t run as quickly as he, Marc tossed her over his shoulder and sprinted to the building. The front door was busted, and with no electricity, he had to take the stairs.

Desperation fueled him, and Mae complained not once of the bumpy ride nor did she question why they had to dash to save Kiral. Once at the top of the stairs, he set her down and stared at the door to the roof which was sitting slightly ajar. Marc shouldered his way out and onto the gravelly roof.

Chains, but no vampire.

He made a quick search of the roof and ventilation unit, which sat in the center, but Kiral wasn’t there. His shoulders shook. He couldn’t even tell if he was laughing or crying.

“He’s not here?” Mae crept out, resting a hand on his back.

“No.” Marc wrapped an arm around her. “Vetis was lying.” Except it hadn’t been something he had believed the bastard to lie about. But there was no vampire, alive or dead, on the roof. If Kiral was as clever as he believed him, he got away if he was caught.

Yes, nothing was going to ruin this moment. His friend escaped and the woman he loved was snuggled against him.

Carmine’s charred heart still beat. Below, the fountain burbled quietly. No angel on top, but no flame either.





EPILOGUE


“No sugar? And it’s your third cup of coffee. You’re going to be up all night tonight.” Mae raised a brow, but she still poured the steaming liquid into his cup.

“I know.” Marc smiled with no teeth, slow and suggestive. It was the smile he reserved just for her. She knew it too, and a blush crept up to her cheeks from her neck. Funny how a dame could make his blood run hot with a little color added to her skin.

“I’m working late tonight. Maybe until five.” She returned the pot to the coffee maker and set about filling salt and pepper shakers. Her gaze kept drifting back to him while his eyes never left her.

The café was busier than usual for this time of night, but it was one of the few places remodeled after the nightmare that had tried to tear the heart out of Carmine two months ago. Of course, Marc enlisted the help of some friends to fix up Mae’s shop. Few others had supernatural volunteers working on their businesses.

“Why don’t you go see how Kiral is doing? It’s been a while since you visited with him.”

“He’s been otherwise occupied lately.” Marc smirked a bit, not adding any other details. Mae knew the whole story now and was already well liked by every tenant on the 13th floor. He hadn’t managed to convince her to move in yet. She was an old-fashioned girl in some ways. That’s why he had already terrorized a few jewelers searching for the perfect ring. He didn’t know jewelry but he knew Mae.

Nothing ostentatious. Simple and beautiful.

Marc’s heart swelled. Was it possible to love her even more? More each day? He had to wait for the perfect moment. He didn’t know when that would be, but he’d know it when it happened. And for the sake of his sanity, it better be soon.

Four college boys, red faced from a night of drinking, came into the café, shoving one another and laughing raucously. They hollered for coffee from the “old lady” and sat down at one of the tables.

Someone needed to teach those boys some manners. Marc’s face hardened and he pushed his cup from him. Mae flashed him a stay-in-your-seat look and brought four mugs over to the young men. She smiled, ignored their comments about the old lady, and served them their drinks.

Marc’s fingers drummed on the counter.

One of the boys leaned over to where two working girls were having a late meal. He gave them a sloppy grin and muttered something ungentlemanly. The women knew their type better than the boys thought they knew them and kept their backs to them.

“Hey, he was talking to you, whore.” A blond boy slid his chair over to the other table. “What’s your price?”

“F*ck off.” One of the women snapped, holding her fork in a tight grip.

“You don’t get to talk to us like this. Not f*cking trash like you.” The blond stood, hulking over the women.

“Hey now, you boys get back to your own table and let the ladies eat in peace.” Mae came out from behind the counter, moving to the girls’ sides.

“Shut up, old woman.” Another of the boys spat.

The drumming stopped and Marc was on his feet. Anger, hate, destruction. He’d rip the heads from their bodies.

He breathed out and let it all go.

“Boys, if you can’t show the ladies some respect, leave the shop. You aren’t welcome here.”

All four of the young men rose to their feet. The blond, obviously the ringleader or the most idiotic drunk, stepped up to Marc. “Whatcha going to do about it, old man?”

A thousand tortures flicked through his mind.

“I’m asking you to leave or I will make you leave.”

They stood for nearly a minute just glaring at one another. Until the boys saw something, perhaps felt it. Marc never knew what triggered it. They backed down, and giving him a wide berth, left the café.

Everyone was silent for a moment. Then the spell was broken and the tension slipped away.

“Your meals are on the house, ladies. My apologies for men everywhere.” Marc nodded to the women.

They smiled at him. Not the one they used for show, but genuine smiles that made them look like little girls who managed to convince him to attend a tea party.

“Thanks, Pops. You’re a sweetheart.”

“Mae, you picked yourself a good one.” The other woman chuckled and gave Mae’s hand a squeeze. “You might want to get him to shave, though.”

“I’ve grown fond of the beard.” Mae winked at them and returned to fill the shakers.

Marc took his seat and picked up his cup, taking a long drink.

“I’ve got you figured out.” Mae came to lean on the counter opposite him.

“Do you now?” He sipped again to hide his smile.

“Nothing you do can surprise me anymore.” She stood, hands on her hips and her chin up in triumph.

Marc reached into the pocket of his flannel jacket and pulled out the tiny box. Holding it out in front of him, he flipped open the lid. The small, perfectly shaped diamond glittered under the florescent lights. “Marry me.”

Her mouth dropped open as her hands fell. Tears shimmered in her eyes. Just seeing her reaction made him feel more alive than ever before. He could keep her on her toes.

“Will you?”

“Oh, Marc.” Mae’s hands fluttered to her mouth before tucking under her chin. “Yes. Yes, I will.”

If the armies of Hell came for him, he’d fight them back a thousand times for one day with her. If Heaven opened its gates to him, he’d turn away and come right back to her arms. With Mae, he had found unbounded love. He had found absolution.



THE END