The Marquis (The 13th Floor)

Chapter 6


Mae had seen his demonic side. His fiery eyes and inhuman maw. His goddamned ugly mug.

There’d be no last cup of coffee. No sweet smile or comforting touches.

He wanted to smash the cars he strode by and throw them through windows. The urge to destroy, to kill, was intoxicating.

Marc had saved her. For the time being. He didn’t think that was an attack particularly meant for her. Though as fate would have it, it was well timed.

He stopped in the shadows of an alley and leaned against the graffitied brick wall. Shaking his head, he reined in his destructive thoughts. The strength that had surged through him in the café left him. His clothes became less tight as his muscles shrank to what they had been. Marc wanted to grasp on to that energy and not let go. He had forgotten how good it felt to be so powerful.

His canines retracted and he stretched his jaw, cracking it. Power he’d believed gone was still there. If he could get back what he’d once had, he could easily defeat Vetis. But what would that mean for him? And how would he do it?

The last thing Marc wanted was to be a demon back in his Master’s service. No, the last thing he wanted was for Vetis to kill Mae. Yet could he bring himself to pay the price to kill Vetis?

“Marc.”

He started at the sound of his name. Looking up, his chest tightened. His mouth was dry as he told Mae to go away. What was she thinking? He knew she wasn’t stupid. Yet to be so brave as to follow him and speak to him, it was, well, he wanted to smile. Then he reminded himself that she might die because of him. His face hardened.

“Marc,” she said his name again in a gentle tone. “No matter what I saw, no matter what you are, you saved my life back there. You’re my hero. My guardian angel.”

“Don’t say that.” Marc growled, huffing as if he were punched. “You need to go, get out of town. Take a vacation far away from here.”

“I can’t. I—” Mae’s protest was cut off by another wordless growl. Her hand fluttered to her injured throat, but she didn’t run or even step back.

She wasn’t afraid of him. Part of him felt proud of the fact, but the other half wanted to shake some sense into her. Marc stomped forward, towering over her, and glared at her. She was trembling, but she didn’t move.

“Your business can be closed. The girls will survive this better than a lot of other people. Think of yourself for once. Be selfish. Be smart.” His hands came up on either side of her as if he might grab her, but he clenched them into fists. “You’ll die if you stay. Get out while you still can.”

Mae said nothing for a minute. Her hand clasped the top of her bloodied shirt. She then took a deep breath and shook her head.

“You can’t scare me off. I’ll take my chances just the same as anyone else in Carmine. Something’s happening here and I’m not going to run. I’m not just staying for the café or the girls either.” Her gaze locked with his. “I’m staying for you.”

“No!” Marc spun away from her, stepping away four feet. His arms swung, needing to hit something, but there was only the wall. “Forget about me. I’m nothing.” He yelled up at the heavens knowing his cries wouldn’t be heard. Then he turned back to her. “Go. Get out of here. I don’t want you to stay. Go before I stuff you into a cab and send you out of the city myself.”

“I realize you’re trying to protect me by sending me away, by trying to scare me off. But it’s not going to work.” Mae put her hands on her hips. “You’re not nothing. Whether you want to believe it or not, you are a hero. You might keep to yourself and drink way too much coffee, but from the first day I met you and you talked about your tenants like a father would his children, I knew you were a hero.” She raised her chin. “And besides, there’s no way you’d be able to find a cab in Carmine right now.”

Marc snorted. How she managed to drain his anger away, he wasn’t sure, but it was enough to make him feel reasonable again. The way she stood there with her hands on her hips and head held high, she was beautiful. A strong and courageous warrior. She shone so brightly even through the darkness that surrounded him. He felt the urge to fall to his knees in worship.

She wouldn’t leave and he wouldn’t force her. If she stayed, Vetis would kill her. Marc silently roared in protest of that possibility. He would have to make sure she stayed somewhere safe then.

“So ...” She pulled him from his thoughts. “I know you know what’s going on. I’d like to know what we’re up against.”

“All right.” Marc sighed and raked his hands through his hair. “All right. Let’s go to my place. It’ll be quiet there and we’ll talk.”

How much should he tell her? Mae was smart. She could handle a lot of things, but demons? Some of her girls were in the same business of temptation. Maybe she could. He shook his head and led the way toward his block, avoiding the main streets and the chaos.

“Do you have any coffee?”

“What?” Marc looked at her and blinked. His mind went blank.

“You know, coffee? A hot drink that you down way too much of. Surely you have some.” Mae pursed her lips. “Or maybe you don’t and that’s why you spend so much time in my café. You never learned to make a decent cup.”

“It’s not the coffee that brings me there.” The words came out before he could stop himself. He bit his tongue, silently cursing himself. He didn’t need to be saying anything like that. Nothing would ever come of the two of them. He’d either be dead or gone within the next day or two.

He clamped his mouth shut and didn’t say anything more until they got to his building. She didn’t force any more conversation either. Marc loved and hated that she could read him so well.

The front windows of the building were broken. People had busted a lot of windows along the street. Something horrible was going on in the city and people mirrored it with their looting. That being the least of their sins, he was sure.

Marc caressed the worn red brick as he opened the door to let Mae in. He wasn’t worried about his floor. No one uninvited would ever find it. And it wasn’t through his or any of the other tenants’ invitation that mattered. The 13th floor chose for itself.

Mae headed to the elevators, and Marc motioned to the stairs.

“We only going up a floor or two? Energy conscious, are you?”

He almost smirked. “No. I live on the 13th floor. The elevator doesn’t open there. Only way up is through the stairs.”

“Thirteen floors?” Mae’s eyes widened and then she reached over to press the call button. “We can at least take the elevator to twelve.”

This time he did smile. It was something he never considered. They rode up together, sharing their little smiles. He felt almost normal again. Dangerous as it was to feel that way, he liked it.

On the 12th floor, they entered the stairwell. He let Mae go ahead of him and watched her from behind. It was an impressive view. Something else stirred within him when he heard someone stumble up around the corner.

Marc ran up and spied Harriet struggling to stand. Her legs shook and she nearly fell again. He slipped an arm around the old woman.

“Harri, what are you doing out? It’s dangerous in the city right now.” Though, even as he said it, he knew why she was out. She didn’t have a choice.

“I can make it.” Harriet made a shooing motion at him, but her protest was a croak.

“I’m helping you to your apartment. Lock yourself in if you have to.” Marc helped her up to the landing and opened the door to the 13th floor. Mae walked up to stand beside them, smiling sympathetically at the other woman.

“Let me hold the door. You two go through.”

Harriet lifted her sagging head and peered at Mae. Her cracked lips smiled. “You brought a lovely friend home with you, Marc. The one from the little coffee shop. I like her.”

It pleased him to have her approval. Pleased him more that she suddenly didn’t start screaming. “Mae Hopkins. This is Harriet McKay.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. McKay.” Mae followed them into the hallway and down to the far end. “Marc’s told you about me then?” She grinned like a cat that had gotten into the nip.

“No.” Harriet reached a shaky hand into her pocket for her key to her apartment door. She ignored Mae’s stunned expression and let Marc help her unlock the door. “Come in for a moment. I have something for your injuries. I know Marc doesn’t even own a bandage.”