Page 67 of Soulmarked
“Like the vampires working with Phoenix.”
“Don't.” The word cracked like a whip. “Don't try to make this about now. This is about what happens when you trust things that aren't meant to be trusted.”
“Or maybe it's about being too afraid to see when things could be different!”
“Different?” Sean's voice rose. “You want to know different? How about watching someone you love get torn apart while they're still trying to negotiate? How about holding them while they bleed out, still believing they could've made a difference?”
“And what about the ones who help us?” I demanded. “What about...” I caught myself before mentioning my own mark, my own connection to things Sean would consider monsters.
“What about what?” His eyes narrowed. “What aren't you telling me, fed?”
“Nothing.” But the lie felt hollow, even to me.
“Bullshit.” Sean moved closer, all predator grace and barely contained violence. “You've been hiding something since we met. Something about why the vampires called you 'marked one.' Something about why supernatural creatures react to you differently.”
“I can't.” The words scraped my throat. “I can't tell you.”
“Can't or won't?”
“Does it matter?”
“Aye, it fucking matters!” His fist slammed into the wall beside my head. “Because I've seen this before. Seen what happens when secrets and monsters mix. And I won't watch it happen again.”
We were toe to toe now, close enough that I could see the flecks of gold in his eyes, the way anger and fear warred in his expression. Something electric crackled in the space between us, rage or attraction or both.
“Then walk away,” I said quietly. “If you can't trust me, if you can't believe things might be different this time, walk away.”
“Different?” His laugh held no humor. “The only difference is I see it coming this time. See you making all the same mistakes he did. Thinking you can change things, reform the system, make peace with monsters.”
“Maybe I can.”
“Maybe you'll die trying. Just like...” He cut himself off, but the words hung between us anyway. Just like Eli.
The silence stretched, heavy with everything we weren't saying. Finally, I reached for his hand where it still pressed against the wall. His skin was warm, callused from weapons and combat. He didn't pull away.
“I'm not Eli,” I said softly. “And whatever you think I'm hiding, whatever you're afraid of... it's not the same.”
“No?” His voice was rough. “Then tell me. Tell me what makes you so sure you can trust these creatures. Tell me what makes you different.”
I couldn't. The mark on my chest burned with the truth I couldn't share, not yet, maybe not ever. Because if Sean knew what I really was, what had saved me that night when I was eight... everything would change.
“I can't,” I said again, and watched something close off in his eyes.
He pulled away, and the loss of contact felt like a physical wound. “Then we're done here.”
“Sean...”
“No.” He moved to gather the scattered research, movements sharp with controlled anger. “You want me to trust you? Want me to believe things can be different? Then stop lying to me. Stop pretending you're not hiding something that could get us both killed.”
“It's not that simple.”
“It never is with you.” He straightened, and his smile was all edges. “But here's what is simple, I won't watch another partnerdie because they thought they knew better than everyone else. So either tell me the truth, or we keep this professional. Your choice.”
The ultimatum hung between us like a blade. I thought about telling him everything. But the memory of his words about monsters, about never trusting anything supernatural...
“I can't,” I said for the third time, and watched the last warmth fade from his expression.
“Right then.” He moved toward the door, all hunter grace and careful distance. “We've got work to do. Phoenix isn't going to wait while we sort out trust issues.”
