Marcus spent the entire show plotting a way to take charge of the situation again. He ultimately decided he should remind her of what he was, in an attempt to wipe the loving expression off her face. Every time he saw it, he felt loved and he was certain that was the root of all his problems, conveniently forgetting the fact that he'd acted oddly before she even developed any feelings of that kind. He'd have to make her fear him again. He'd make her so scared she wouldn't smile at him ever again, so he wouldn't feel the warmth that enveloped him every time she did.
Finally the show ended and they joined the hustle of people walking down the theatre corridor. Jessica slid her hand into his and placed her head on his shoulder. As they walked past a large mirror, Marcus was struck by the way they looked. She looked so tiny against his large frame, so fragile. The worst part was: they looked like a couple in love, damnit. He had to put a stop to this.
Not caring about the people he forcefully pushed out of the way, Marcus shoved her into the wall. Placing his hands on either side of her face, he stared at her intently, trying to gauge her response at his unexpected action. He dipped his head down to briefly brush against her lips with his. She looked up at him wide-eyed, not sure of what to do. Again he lowered his head, claiming her lips possessively and pinning her to the wall with his body.
His knee pried her legs apart and his hand went under the slit of her dress, lifting up the fabric to grant himself better access and revealing her underwear to the public. She pulled back, attempting to push him away. He let his other hand travel up her neck and threaded it into her hair, yanking her head to the side. Attacking the soft skin with his mouth, he let his fingers dance across the waistband of her panties.
"Marcus, no. People are watching," she hissed.
He raised his head to meet her eyes, his face a cold mask. "You don't get a say in this. I am not your boyfriend. Do I need to remind you of that?"
"You wouldn't..." she said, voice trailing off. What had come over him?
His tone became menacing. "Don't mistake me for one of those men, Jessie." He gestured to the people passing by, some of them throwing worried or disapproving glances in their direction.
"I'm not. I'm just not comfortable with all these people watching," Jessica tried to explain.
"You know I could take you right here if I wanted to. Right against this wall, spectators and all. You could scream all you wanted. I wouldn't care." His hand went up to caress her cheek softly and his voice became a whisper. "You keep forgetting who you're dealing with."
"Marcus, please. You don't have to prove your point," she pleaded.
He let go of her abruptly. "I think I do." Grabbing her by her arm, Marcus hauled her back to the car. As soon as they entered the apartment, he ordered her to go to bed.
"Aren't you coming?" Jessica asked tentatively. She had screwed up and she was thoroughly frightened by his ominous silence.
"No. I'm going out." He turned around and slammed the door shut behind him.
She needed to be set straight. She thought of him as her boyfriend while he was anything but. Marcus Hamilton was part of the most powerful evil in this and many other dimensions. He and his brothers ruled the underworld, for God's sake. Armies had gone up against him and lost. She had forgotten they weren't equals. He held power over her. He owned her, damnit. Her life was his.
While he was prowling the streets, Marcus' head was filled with violent thoughts. It didn't take long for him to find a willing girl. She was standing in a crowd waiting to be accepted into a nightclub. She looked at him through heavily made up eyes and stared at his form appreciatively. Sidling closer to her, Marcus took in her appearance. She would have been pretty if it hadn't been for the harsh line of her mouth. She was wearing way too much make-up for his taste, and she was wiry and thin. Not soft and pliant like Jessica. Don't go there.
As he halted his step in front of her, she smiled at him lewdly. He ignored his instant revulsion and returned her smile, waiting for her to make the first move. He didn't have to wait long.
"Hey there," she lisped. "You going in?" She pointed to the club's entrance doors.
"No," Marcus replied, watching her face fall slightly. "I was thinking of spending the night somewhere... more quiet."
The woman's smile came back full force. "Care for some company?"
Bingo. It never ceased to amaze him how little effort it took to get a woman into bed. He offered his arm. "Let's go."
Vague promises of a passion-filled night were enough to lure her back to his apartment. As the elevator doors opened, he grabbed the woman by her hair and yanked her onward. He opened the door with one hand and kicked it shut behind them.
The noise drew Jessica out of the bedroom. Taking in the scene before her she gasped. What was he doing? Who was that girl? The situation reminded her of the day she'd first come into his life. Had he taken a new girl to replace her? What had she done to piss him off so much?
Marcus backhanded the woman across the face, knocking her out. She slumped down to the ground, while he headed for his study. Opening the dresser, he took out his favorite knife and tucked it in his waistband. Back in the living room, he tossed the still unconscious woman on the sofa and advanced on Jessica.
"Do you remember now, Jessie? Do you remember what I am?" He unsheathed the knife and held it in front of her face. "Do you?" Jessica's horrified look was almost satisfying enough in itself, but the bloodlust that had been dormant the last couple of days had been awakened.
Jessica shook her head slowly, tears welling up in her eyes. "Don't."
The woman on the sofa groaned, gaining consciousness. He walked over to her, cutting the straps of her top with his knife and exposing her bare chest. The woman made a startled sound and looked up at him wide-eyed.
Jessica came to her senses. This had to stop. "Don't do this. Don't hurt her, Marcus."
Marcus chuckled evilly. "I will hurt her. And I'll do it because I like it. That's what I am. You'd better not forget again." He leisurely and deliberately tracked the knife's blade over the woman's throat, drops of blood welling up in its wake. "You think she's a screamer, Jessie?"
Terrified, the woman looked at Jessica pleadingly. Jessica shook her head incredulously. Was this really happening? Still, she had to help the young woman. She couldn't let her get killed. "Let her go. Please."
Her voice was so low that Marcus had to strain his ears to hear her. It was the words she wasn't saying that he was most interested in however. Fascinating. "Are you offering your life for hers?"
Jessica nodded mutely.
"You'll willingly undergo everything I had in mind for her?" Marcus inquired mockingly. "See, it's the willing part I'm not really into. I'd much prefer reluctant participants."
"Poke me with that knife and you'll see how reluctant I can get," Jessica said bitterly, fighting back her tears.
"I think I might." He turned back to the woman and observed her quiet sobs, his face full of disdain. "You were a lot more fun, Jessie. She's disappointing as hell." Not knowing what to say, Jessica kept quiet.
"Are you really sure you want to trade your life for hers? Even though you have no idea what I was going to do to her?" In a silky soft voice he continued, "Are you ready to die, Jessie?"
She closed her eyes in desperation. "No."
"That's what I thought." He proceeded to haul the woman off of the sofa, holding her up in front of him with his knife to her throat. "You wanna know why? Because you think you're better than her. More deserving of life. You're not the one at knifepoint. She must have fucked up somewhere along the line. That's what you're thinking. Don't deny it." He advanced on her. "But see, this is the funny thing. If I choose to, I can reverse your roles in a heartbeat. Doesn't that make me better than both of you? Do you think I'm better than you, Jessie?"
She swallowed. "I think you have a certain advantage over me, yes."
Chuckling, Marcus shook his head. "Well put. Answer the question."
What did he want her to say? Jessica thought about it for a while. "You are more powerful than me. If that means you're better, then you are."
"And?" Marcus prodded. He could tell she'd wanted to continue, but she'd wisely closed her mouth before the words came out.
Jessica gave up. He was going to kill them both anyway. It was almost amusing how fast she'd fallen from being on top of the world to her life being in danger. "You are also clearly a homicidal lunatic, and that would make me better than you. So I guess it's a draw."
Marcus let out a surprised laugh and tossed the woman to the side. "Funny, little girl. As I recall, you weren't so picky when we had sex." Patting the palm of his hand with the knife, he moved toward her. She flinched and backed up into the hallway. "Oh come on, Jess. Don't act all shy with me. I know better than that."
Behind him, the woman scrambled for the door, desperately trying the doorknob. Marcus looked over his shoulder, then turned back to Jessica. "I'll be back in a second. Don't go anywhere." He stalked across the room and picked up the woman. "Guess this is your lucky day." Opening the door, he flung her into the elevator. He walked back over to Jessica. "You ruined her for me."
"I did not." Jessica breathed a sigh of relief, immediately followed by an intense fear. She felt guilty to admit it, but she had been glad the woman was there to divert most of Marcus' aggression. Up until now, Marcus hadn't hurt her, but she couldn't be positive he wasn't about to. Seeing as he was still cherishing the knife while he headed over to her, she was pretty sure she wasn't getting out of this unharmed. A sob escaped her throat but she wasn't going down without a fight. "You did. You should have bought her clothes and try to gain her trust and play games with her, but you rushed it."
"That's not what I meant," Marcus smiled. "You spoiled me for the others. It's only fair that you make up for that."
She shivered. "I didn't do anything. Screw you."
"Watch your language, little girl. I have better uses for that pretty mouth of yours." He grinned at her horrified expression. "Yep."
"You're not seriously thinking I'm going to sleep with you again, are you? You're delusional."
"Not willingly, no." Marcus shrugged. "But you see, I don't care. I can make you do anything I want. Besides, you know I can still make you scream my name." He raised the knife to her face and gazed at her pensively. "I don't think I ever heard you scream. In pain, I mean."
Swallowing back her fear, she lifted her chin and looked at him defiantly. "No. And I like it that way."
"Well, I don't," he decided, shoving her into the bedroom. "Let's see what we can do about it, shall we?" He followed her into the room, opening a chest drawer and taking out something she couldn't identify.
"Lie on the bed, please," he instructed her pleasantly.
Jessica didn't move. "What if I don't?"
Her voice was trembling. Nice. "Then I'll make you." To his contentment, she obeyed and lay down on the bed. "Good girl." Marcus moved to stand next to the bed and started tying her arms to the headboard. Her legs underwent the same treatment. Checking the restraints for strength he briefly pondered other things he could do with her tied up like this. No. He had priorities, and that wasn't among them. He took the knife from the nightstand and sat down beside her.
He traced the blade over her nightgown, tearing the material instantly and making her gasp. Applying a little more force to the knife, he brought it back up, drawing blood. She whimpered softly and closed her eyes, not wanting to see the man she loved cutting her with a large knife. Had she been fooling herself all along? It sure seemed like it. She had forgotten he was a homicidal maniac, who had seen fit to abduct her and hold her captive in his apartment. Instead, she had gone and fallen in love with him, treating him as her boyfriend and making demands. For a few days, he had given in to her and let her live her fantasy, but apparently he'd had enough. Now she was paying the price. And it hurts like hell -- I don't necessarily mean the knife. Tears filled her eyes and she started to cry silently.
Marcus tried to force himself to continue marking her. If he decided to let her live, she'd think of him every time she looked into a mirror. She would scar, he'd make sure of that. He couldn't shake a vague sensation of discomfort however. The feeling became stronger with every stroke of the knife, until it was impossible for him to continue. He turned his attention to her face and was dismayed to see tears trickling down her cheeks.
Abruptly, he rose from the bed and cut her loose. Shedding his clothes, he climbed into the bed behind her and took her into his arms, holding her tight. For hours, he listened to her sobs, feeling them rack her body. He'd finally broken her.
Then why wasn't he feeling good about himself?
After a couple of hours Jessica's crying finally died down and she fell asleep due to pure exhaustion. Marcus stayed awake, realizing he had a lot of thinking to do. He hadn't been able to torture her the way he'd planned to, although he was reasonably sure he'd sufficiently scared her. Thinking about the sadness etched on her face made him cringe. She hadn't been crying because of the physical pain he was inflicting; her tears had been of grief, hurt, betrayal. It pained him to realize that he was the cause of all her suffering.
He had to admit it. He was totally, irrefutably in love with her. There were some major reasons why that couldn't work out though. The first was easy. He was evil; she was not. He'd proven that once and for all tonight. Even if she still loved him after what he'd done to her, it would be impossible for them to have a life together. He could never be sure she would have loved him if he had given her a choice. Because he hadn't. He'd taken her from her life and forced her to make do with what she had. Which is me. He knew it shouldn't matter to him anyway, they could just continue living like they were now and he could keep on forcing her to be with him, but it didn't feel right. She had to stay with him because she wanted to. Which brought him back to a very important question. What kind of future did they have together?
Apart from the fact that their natures couldn't be more different, he also had to consider the fact that she was human. Mortal. Weak. Prone to dying. She wouldn't live as long as he would, not by a long shot. She'd die and leave him. Being with him would make her an easy target for all kinds of demons and hell gods that wanted to cross him. She'd die. And leave him. He'd seen it happen; even Madea and Tina, who were powerful demons in their own right, had been taken on a number of occasions to pressure his brothers into changing strategy. It simply was too dangerous for Jessica to be with him. She'd die.
Just before dawn, Marcus reached a decision. It was selfish as hell and he hated himself for it, but it was the only thing that calmed his frazzled nerves. He had to kill her. Before she could die a horrible death at the hands of his enemies. Before she could leave him. He realized he couldn't just set her free. His possessive nature would never permit him to stay away from her, let alone allow her to build a life for herself -- with another man. He couldn't bear the thought of her lying in another man's bed, loving him, caring for another man the way she did for him. Because he lacked self-control, the woman he loved had to die. He would make sure it would be quick, and she'd never have to be scared again.
Thursday
Jessica woke up in a disoriented state, wondering why her chest hurt and why she felt like she'd been crying all night. It took a few seconds for the harsh reality to kick in. Marcus had had enough of her and had both mentally and physically hurt her. At least that woman had survived.
She had no doubt that Marcus was going to murder her; his actions last night had made that abundantly clear. He did not care for her in any way. Why had she fallen in love with a monster? Apparently, he wasn't able to love her back. Maybe he'd killed her sooner if she'd kept on disliking him... but that would have saved her a broken heart. She wouldn't have experienced the last couple of days, that was true, but as it turned out, her happiness had been based on a lie.
Hot tears burned behind her eyes. She was only twenty-one and now she was going to die. She'd never marry, never have children. Her parents would never know what happened to her, and when they approached Marcus to ask about her, he'd kill them too.
Behind her, Marcus stirred. He was holding her like he had done every night since the first time she'd slept in his bed, the second night she'd spent in his apartment. Even now it felt right. She still loved him, at least the Marcus she'd thought she knew. Was that weird? Jessica didn't give a crap. She was going to die, by the hands of the evil thing she was in love with. How's that for irony? An involuntary sob escaped her.
Marcus had felt her tense up, alerting him that she was awake. He should just snap her neck right now and be done with it, but the thought sickened him. He needed to lose himself in her one more time, right now. She already hated him; he could add another thing to her list. He trailed his hand over her stomach, making her wince in pain as he touched the wound he'd inflicted last night. Damn.
"Sorry," he whispered softly.
Jessica fought to gain control over her emotions. Part of her revolted at the idea of actually letting him touch her again, but another, rapidly increasing part told her she'd be dead this time tomorrow. She needed him -- or the part of him she loved. Was she really going to hell for trying to find some comfort in her last hours alive? She turned in his arms, facing him.
Without further ado, Marcus rolled on top of her and captured her mouth in a desperate kiss. His hands were everywhere, ridding her of the remnants of her nightgown and kneading her flesh roughly, at the same time being careful to avoid her wounds. She raked her nails across his back forcefully, making him moan. There was an urgency in his touch she'd never felt before. He was virtually clinging to her, drinking her in. She tugged at his boxers, succeeding in removing them.
Last time. The two words kept repeating in Marcus' head. He struggled to keep some semblance of self-control. Her hands on him nearly caused him to bury himself deep into her, but it would be over too soon. He had to make it last a little while longer. It was the last time he'd feel her soft skin, the last time she'd touch him with her small hands. She was clawing at him frantically, trying to get him where she wanted him. He recognized her need and the fear that lay underneath it.
Giving in, he sheathed himself in her body. She arched her back, urging him on. He drove into her violently, surrendering to his desperation. She kept perfect time with his thrusts, unfazed by his brute force. As her muscles started to contract around him he climaxed.
"So sorry," he muttered, resting his forehead against hers. "I'm so sorry."
She didn't reply but settled for stroking his hair, a gesture that shocked and touched him at the same time. Marcus rolled off of her and silently made his way to the shower. It didn't change anything. It had been goodbye and she'd known it. As he dressed himself he contemplated talking to her. But what purpose would that serve? Would it help her in any way? No. She'd be better off thinking he'd grown bored with her and she'd have to die because of it. Did it make her death easier to bear if she knew he had difficulties killing her? No, it wouldn't. It would only get her hopes up and he'd done enough hope-crushing to last him at least a couple of weeks.
He headed for the bedroom door and paused in the doorway, looking back at the still figure on the bed. She was facing away from him. He couldn't blame her. Closing his eyes for a moment, images of their days together played in his mind. Marcus shook his head vigorously, trying to rid himself of the pleasant feeling they caused. He couldn't bear it, knowing what he was about to do.
He set course for his study. Opening a secret vault, he took his favorite ancient dagger out of its sheath and studied it, light reflecting on the silver blade. It was beautiful, the handle encrusted with emeralds and engraved with a primordial demonic language. He visualized thrusting it into her body or slashing her throat with it. The thought made him recoil. No. He grabbed the desk for support.
Sitting down with his head in his hands, Marcus tried to force himself to get over it. He would grieve for a while, sure, but there was a copious amount of violence waiting for him just around the corner. Nothing worked better to relieve him from grief and worry than a good spot of mayhem. Even the thought of beating Angel into a bloody mess didn't cheer him up. As soon as his thoughts returned to Jessica and he pictured her lying dead in his bed -- or anywhere in his apartment -- his body convulsed in disgust.
No matter how he had to, he couldn't do this himself.
Striding purposefully down the hallway to his office, Marcus reached a decision. He fished his cell phone out of his inside pocket and dialed a number. He waited impatiently until someone answered.
"Marcus Hamilton here. I have a job for you." As soon as the words left Marcus' mouth, he regretted them, but he forced himself to continue. "Meet me in my office around ten."
Marcus had been pacing around his office for half an hour when Patterson entered the room. Not bothering to look up, he addressed his assistant. "Sit down. And you'd better have some good news."
"Something wrong, Sir? You seem... distraught," Patterson observed as he lowered himself into a chair.
"Nothing you need to worry about," Marcus answered curtly. "What's the news on Angel?"
"He's making preparations. All is going according to plan." Leafing through the paperwork in his hand, Patterson looked up. "I have found out who sent those cyborgs though."
"Good," Marcus nodded absent-mindedly while turning to face the window. "Tell me."
"Well--" A racket outside Marcus' office interrupted Patterson. With a brusque gesture of his hand, Marcus indicated Patterson should check it out. Glancing quickly at his watch, Marcus discovered it was ten o'clock and the noise probably belonged to the gang of demons he'd hired.
Patterson stuck his head back through the open door. "These... men... say they have an appointment, Sir."
"Send them in." Marcus moved to sit down in his chair. Rubbing his temples, he tried to summon the willpower to carry through with his plans.
The demons entered his office relatively quiet, obviously aware of his violent reputation although they had no way of knowing exactly how powerful he was. There were six of them, each one of them so very unsightly. Marcus felt a pang of remorse at the thought that this was the last sight Jessica would see. He grimaced. He had to stop thinking about her.
"You said you had a job for us," the leader of the six rasped. "We're at your disposal."
Marcus composed himself. "Good." He saw no point in putting it off any longer, fearing he might change his mind if he did. "It involves a girl. I need her dead."
The demons listened attentively, so he continued. "It's strictly a killing job, no torture, nothing. It needs to be quick and tidy. If I find out you played around with her, you'll be sorry you were ever born. Or hatched. Or spawned. Whatever."
Nodding, the demons indicated that they understood. "Get in, kill the girl, get out."
"Exactly." Marcus proceeded to discuss payment and made sure to stress again that Jessica shouldn't suffer. He escorted the group to the elevator where he pushed the buttons that would lead them to his apartment. When the elevator doors closed, he leaned against them and sighed. It was for the best. His life was better spent alone.
Jessica hadn't felt like doing anything and stayed in bed. She wondered why Marcus hadn't killed her yet, but figured he just liked to postpone her inevitable death to add some much-needed torment. She made a face at the thought. How could she have been so wrong about him? Well, apparently there was a reason she didn't know much about men: she was pig-ignorant.
Jessica shook her head wryly. Even though she was staring down horrible and untimely death, she still found it necessary to make fun of her situation. No wonder he'd grown tired of her. Suddenly she remembered something that happened on one of her first nights with him. He'd made a lot of noise and had come out of his study all twitchy when she'd caught him.
Getting dressed quickly, she went to investigate. She stood in the doorway indecisively, taking in the large room and wondering where to start. She didn't even know what she was looking for, but she figured it had to be something he didn't want her to find out about, judging from his edgy behavior that night. So that had to be either a secret exit or something that could hurt him. Both of them not entirely useless in her situation. Finally deciding to look behind the books on the shelf, she wasted no time in discarding them, taking a certain pleasure in the fact that she messed up his painstakingly neat study.
Behind one of the books on the top shelf was a security panel. Yes! It required a numeric code, which was disappointing. She was startled by a noise at the front door, and quickly punched in a random series of numbers. A red light flashed, indicating that it hadn't been the right code. The front door opened with a loud crash and the sound of heavy footsteps ensued. Crap. Think! His year of birth... She punched it in. 0. 4. 6. 7. The light turned green and a hidden door opened, just as a bunch of hideously looking things entered the study. She dashed through the opening, thanking her lucky stars for the narrow escape. Slamming the door shut behind her, she ran through the corridor, only to be halted by a second door with another security panel. The door behind her opened, revealing two of the monsters that were after her. She desperately tried to unlock the second door, trying the code that had opened the other one, but to no avail. She sagged to the floor defeatedly while the things grabbed her arms and hauled her back into Marcus' apartment.