Marked By You

Don't own anything.

Chapter 1

It had been months since Malik had had a mission. Now, his new mission was to kidnap some rich teenager for ransom. Lovely. He was an assassin for God's sake, not a babysitter! He growled to himself as he came upon the wall around the estate he was looking for. He climbed the wall into the garden of the kid's house, keeping his eyes peeled. No guards, nobody. Landing softly in the garden, he slid into an alleyway between two houses. He heard someone coming. Looking out, he saw a boy walking right past where he was standing. The description was right: small, platinum hair, lavender eyes, tan. Pretty, too; actually, that wasn't in the description, just Malik's opinion. He pulled a strip of cloth out and used it to cover the boy's mouth, dragging him backward into the pitch black alley. Pressing the struggling boy against his body, he removed the cloth, slipping his hand over the boy's mouth.

"Make a sound or try to run, and I'll kill you faster than you can say 'help.' Now, let's see if you're the one I'm looking for..." He felt the boy's neck until he found a thin chain. Taking it out of his victim's shirt, he saw the emblem of the house of Ishtar. He smirked. Perfect.

"Hands behind you, boy, now," he said softly. Instead, the boy tried to pull away. Malik pulled out a knife and placed it at the boy's throat, watching his eyes contract in fear.

"Now," he growled menacingly. The boy complied, and using one hand, Malik deftly secured the boy's wrists with the strip of cloth. Then he dragged him away, leaving only a note where they had stood.

Malik and his friends were celebrating as they always did when someone's mission went all right. Which was every night, usually. Which meant a lot of drinking. Malik smirked at the captive huddled in a corner. So lovely and desirable. The strip of cloth around the boy's wrists had been replaced with rope, and he curled up against the wall, clearly terrified. Malik's friend Bakura smiled, which was more like a sneer.

"Marik, huh. Looks a little like you, Malik. Pretty, ain't he?" The prisoner tried to move as Bakura approached, but he was trapped. Bakura knelt in front of him. Marik's eyes widened. Bakura ran a finger down the boy's face softly. Marik closed his eyes, shuddering, trying to ignore the hand that was now running over his neck. Suddenly a high-pitched voice came out of the group.

"'Kura, what about me?" Bakura smirked and left Marik to go over to a young albino boy serving the group. He grabbed him roughly and kissed him.

"Whaddaya mean, what about you? I was just playing with him. You're mine." The servant smiled happily. Then he broke away and ran to the stairs.

"Come catch me, 'Kura!" He ran up the stairs, with Bakura chasing him, laughing maniacally. The rest of the group groaned.

"There goes tonight's sleep. Ryou's a screamer." Malik looked out the window and realized how late it was.

"Time for bed, everyone. Someone tie the kid's feet." The boy struggled uselessly as the order was carried out. Malik smiled down at the frightened boy.

"Can't have you running away now, can we?" The assassins left the room to go to bed. Malik couldn't sleep. His mind kept drifting to the boy, to those light lavender eyes looking at him in terror. Finally he got up and went downstairs. Marik was asleep, bound as he was. Tear tracks ran down his cheeks. Malik squatted down, and ran his thumb over them, wiping them away. The boy stirred, but nothing more. Malik sighed. He could never hurt this boy. Even if his father refused to pay up, Malik would just let him go anyway, more than likely. Marik stirred again, and Malik quickly left the room.

The next morning, Malik had the boy blindfolded and kneeling in front of him, feet untied. Someone pushed Marik's head down. Malik moved the hair away from his neck, feeling him tremble. Malik dipped a small knife in a dish of purple liquid.

"Now, boy, I'm just going to mark you, in case I need to find you again for...financial reasons." The others guffawed. Malik began carving a symbol into Marik's neck. The young captive jerked at the sudden pain. Malik smirked.

"If you move, it'll just hurt more." He put the finishing line on the Ka symbol and stood, watching it turn purple.

"Let's go." He took Marik and got on his horse.

"Don't make a sound, or I will kill you." Marik nodded, and the assassin's rode off. They came to an alley and saw a man standing there with a bag. Malik and the others got off their horses. Malik held a dagger to Marik's throat.

"Give me my son back." Malik pressed the flat of his dagger against the side of the boy's face. Marik shuddered as Malik ran his tongue slowly up his captive's ear.

"Why should I? He's so...delectible. But for as much money as I've asked for, I'll give him back. Throw the money to my friend here and I'll let your son go." The exchange was swift. Before the man could even remove his son's blindfold, Malik and the others had disappeared.

Malik had felt a pang of regret as he let go of the boy. He wondered if he'd ever see him again...if those deep pools of lavender would ever look at him in something other than fear...