The Marquis (The 13th Floor)

Chapter 9


The door flew open and Marc wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug. Mae’s breath was knocked out of her, but she didn’t complain and didn’t stop him.

“You’re safe. You stayed.”

“Well, yes, I said I would.” Mae replied and rubbed his arms. She peered at his ravaged clothing. “What happened? Are you all right?” She brushed her hands over his ruined beard. The remaining stiff whiskers floated to the floor.

“Vetis knows who you are. He was there at the café.” Marc pulled her close again, resting his cheek against the top of her head. His anger bubbled to the surface, but he reined it back in. “I’m so sorry, but your place, well—”

“Shush. It doesn’t matter. I have insurance. All that matters is you’re okay. And you’re okay, right?”

Marc had sidestepped the question the first time, but she wouldn’t give it up. He released her and shook his head. “No. I won’t be okay until Vetis is dead. And I think I can beat him, but I don’t know if the price is worth.”

“What do you mean? Saving lives, saving the city isn’t worth it?” Mae’s brows furrowed. It made her look more her age, but it didn’t take away from her beauty.

“Not that.” He headed to his bathroom, unbuttoning his tattered shirt. He paused, thinking about Vetis’ comment about him putting on a fresh shirt, and growled as he ripped away the remaining buttons. They made tiny tapping noises as they hit the wall and bounced into hiding spots never to be found.

“What is it? Marc, you can tell me anything.” Mae wisely kept back, one hand resting upon the hall wall.

“To beat him,” he said as he tore off his shirt and tossed it into a corner. “I have to bring forth my demonic powers. Not just a little either. I need them all. I need to be everything I once was to defeat him. And I don’t think I could return to being ...” He looked at himself in the mirror. Dirty, bloody, and human. “Me.” Why would he even want to return to being like this? He was pathetic. “The demon in me is powerful. And I’d be much worse than Vetis is right now.”

Mae came up behind him and placed a hand on his bare shoulder. Her hand was cold compared to the heat of his body. He watched her in the mirror as she inspected him, making sure he didn’t have any wounds. She didn’t attempt any more contact. For that he was grateful. Yet there was another part of him stirring, highly aware of how close she was, how wonderful she’d feel underneath him.

“You won’t lose yourself. You’re much stronger than you think. You’re a hero.” She squeezed his shoulder, urging him to be quiet. “And not just because you saved me. But because of the way you care for Ms. McKay. Her affection for you is obvious. And the way you help out your addict friend. Sticking by someone during that is rough. Most people give up. And the way you care for your tenants. I’ve listened to you talk about them. A lot of people in the city don’t give a damn about others, not even their neighbors.”

Marc felt a slab of guilt weigh down upon him at the mention of Kiral. He’d failed the vampire. Saving him from being tempted into taking a hit that night had given him a death sentence.

“Hey, look up.” Mae rubbed his shoulder. He hadn’t realized he’d dropped his head. Their eyes met in the flat plane of the mirror. “I believe in you.”

He reached up and laid his hand over hers. This feeling he could live within forever. He wanted to say thank you, but words were beyond the gratefulness he felt. Never in all his centuries of life had he found himself speechless. He loved her.

The realization shocked him. His chest swelled. He could barely breathe. Love. Only a saint like this woman could make his hardened heart beat like this.

Mae’s smile widened as she watched his face. She stepped closer and leaned her head against his arm. “I don’t care what you once were. Who you are now is what matters. God never gives up on anyone.”

It hurt with how swiftly his body went rigid. The door to his heart slammed shut as he pulled away from her. Marc shoved past her. “God turned his back on me a long time ago.”

He ignored her as she called to him and went to his bedroom. Yanking a clean shirt from his closet, he dressed as he headed to the front door.

She cried out his name, apologizing for what she said. She didn’t know what she’d said wrong. Marc didn’t expect her to understand. She was only human. And he couldn’t be that way anymore. He couldn’t live as a wretched old man pitied by that beautiful woman.

There was no absolution for him. Not from God nor from Mae.

Kicking the door closed behind him, he raced down the stairs. The Grand Marquis was going to come out of retirement. And Vetis would be the first to feel his wrath.