Black Scar by Karyn Gerrard Page B

injured in an
attack. Gossip states the head blood-sucker disfigured you to keep you in
line.”
    A short burst of
cynical laughter left his throat. “Yeah, well. Not true. Look, Dani, I don’t
know what in hell I am going to do. If I do leave, I’ll make sure you come with
me. That’s all I can promise for now.”
    “Thank you.”
    Marcus opened the
door. “Good night.”
    She nodded and
left the room. Marcus closed the door, his hand still gripping the handle. Now
what? Take to the hills with a pregnant whatever-she-is? How to react. Laugh? Cry? Tear the room apart?
    Fuck it. He was
going to bed.

Chapter Eleven
     
    The door to his
bedroom banged against the wall, bringing Marcus out of a deep sleep.
    He opened his
eye. Devlin stood at the end of his bed with arms crossed. His expression,
though guarded, looked irate and dark.
    “The Blacks are
here. Did you call them? They did call here yesterday. I did not return it.”
    Marcus snatched
his eye patch off the end table and put it on. He gazed at the window. The sun
sat high in the sky. “What is the time?”
    “It is one in the
afternoon. Answer me: did you call these blood-suckers?”
    Marcus threw back
the blanket. He was naked and hard as an iron pike. The Blood Lust had returned
in full force. Blood and sex were all his thoughts were full of. His arm still
throbbed in pain.
    “No.”
    Devlin scoffed,
his gaze sliding down to Marcus’s erection. “Look at the state of you. You no
longer have any control over yourself, do you? You have become one of ... them .”
    Devlin said the
word ‘them’ with loathing and disgust.
    “Get dressed and
meet me in the office. And do something about that.”
    Devlin strode
from the room, banging the door shut behind him. Marcus stood and grasped his
aching prick. While he stroked, he wondered—why in hell had he slept so long?
    ****
    Ten minutes later,
Marcus entered Devlin’s spacious office. By the opposite wall stood Deegan,
flanked by Tristan and Lucius. They made a formidable trio. All three were
dressed in black, how appropriate. Devlin sat behind his desk. Marcus decided
to remain standing.
    “So what is the
reason behind this unforgivable breach? No one approaches The Compound without
being invited.” Devlin sneered.
    Deegan smiled,
though it held no warmth. “Really? And yet you dared to step on my property to
take Marcus. And let us not forget what you did to Tristan’s mate.”
    Tristan snarled,
his fangs fully elongated. Obviously, Katrina’s kidnapping had not been
forgotten or forgiven.
    “Marcus is not a
pet for you to keep about your house for amusement,” Devlin snapped.
    Deegan laughed.
“That is rich coming from you. Yet, you yourself treat him as one. Keep him in
this sterile kennel, breed him. You turn my bile.” Deegan turned to face him.
“Marcus, all we want is for you to make a choice. We will respect it whatever
it may be. You cannot straddle both worlds, lad. It is not the way of the
Shadow World. The choice must be made now. Either remain here or come with us
and join the Blackthorne Clan.”
    Christ. No pressure. He glanced at the Blacks. If he chose them he would
be embracing his Vampire side and would no longer be a Thrope. His brother,
Devlin, would not welcome him back to the Compound. Why did the Blacks feel
more like brothers to him than his own did?
    But, thanks to
these Vampires, his life was now irrecoverably altered. Granted, he agreed to being
turned, but everything that had happened to him after that? How could he cope
with the Blood Lust here with the Thropes, or his feeling a Mate Bond toward a
woman who did not want him? How to handle this damned Bloodling stage? There
were so many questions with no answers. Why did he sleep so much some nights
and other nights not at all? Why he did not feel the effects of the sun? Come
to think of it, how was it Deegan could walk around at one in the afternoon? A
bolt of pain shot through his injured leg, and he shifted his