Marked

By T.L. McDonald

'There is something terribly wrong with his eyes. My mind struggles to rationalize what I'm seeing and I tell myself that it's just a trick of the light, or that maybe I'm hallucinating due to the crushing amount of fear I'm feeling, because when I look at them, all I see is darkness. Deep dark voids that threaten to swallow me whole.'

When 17 year old Hanna Harper agrees to see a local band at The Iron Knife Club with her two best friends, she has no idea her life is about to change forever and that everything she thought was impossible...isn't.

Marked by a mystical symbol by a dying boy, she's thrust into a world she never imagined existed where her eyes are opened to the reality that fallen angels are very real, and very dangerous. And with just one look from their soulless black eyes, they can take everything from you.

And now, because of the symbol and the secret it contains, a secret she must protect at all costs, those black eyes have set their sights on her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: T.L. McDonald
• Release date: Feb 3, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311240828

T.L. McDonald

T.L. McDonald lives in Ohio with her husband, her three wonderful children, and her little miniature pinscher Lola (who thinks she's a big beast.) When she's not spending time with her family or friends, she can often be found staring at the computer screen as she writes new material (okay sometimes she's actually just surfing her newsfeed on Facebook or Twitter), curled up with a good book, or occasionally binge watching an entire series on Netflix. Although T.L. has been writing since her childhood, Marked is her very first published novel and now that she's gotten this far, she has no plans of stopping. Nothing makes her happier than knowing she's put something out into the world for people to enjoy.

Book preview

1

W e are so going to this tonight, Kat Matthews says, as she thrusts a flyer into my face. She leans against the locker beside mine, shaking the flyer as if it were on fire. Subtlety is not her finest quality.

I grab the paper from her, suppressing the urge to smack her with it and read aloud. Infinite Haze, performing this Friday. Live at The Iron Knife. I hand the flyer back to her as I shut my locker and give the combination a swirl. You know you have to be twenty-one to get into that club, right?

So… Kat takes the flyer, folds it in half, then folds it in half again before slipping it into the back pocket of her designer skinny jeans. That’s what we have our fake IDs for, remember?

Like I could forget. She makes me use it almost every weekend. I don’t know, couldn’t we do something else like go to a movie or something? Kat gives me a look that says ‘absolutely not’. I sigh, knowing full well I’m going to give in. I always do.

You know how nervous I get using that thing, I say. One of these times, we’re going to get caught.

That’s what makes it fun, she says.

Unless we get arrested, I point out.

Her lips curve into a sly grin. Depends on who’s doing the arresting. I wouldn’t mind being arrested by that new cop in town. Officer Hottie, as I like to call him.

I can’t help but laugh. Kat is the biggest flirt I know. She has about every boy in school wrapped around her little finger. She’s also drop dead gorgeous with dark brown wavy hair, big brown eyes, and a super model figure, so there’s that. Officer Hottie probably wouldn’t stand a chance.

I, on the other hand, pale in comparison with my gray eyes, blue streaked blonde hair, and semi-short stature. I’m 5ft 5in, which isn’t exactly short per se, but compared to Kat, who’s closer to 6ft (taller when she’s in heels), I look like a munchkin standing next to her. Plus, she’s outgoing and confident where I’m shy and introverted. She seeks attention from everyone; I avoid it at all costs. She can flirt her way out of anything; I’d be lucky to flirt my way out of a paper bag. If Officer Hottie were to bust us with our fake IDs, she’d walk away free, I’d be hauled off in cuffs.

Kat links arms with me as we walk into art class. She towers over me, given her choice of heels and has to look down. Come on, Hanna. She bats her lashes, giving me her best puppy dog eyes. Pretty please come with me? Next it’s the pouty lips.

I suppress the urge to smile. How can I argue with a face like that? Besides, when Katherine Matthews wants something, Katherine Matthews pretty much always gets it. Okay, fine. I’ll go. She squeals in delight as we take our seats.

Art is the last class of the day and my absolute favorite. Not because it’s the last class of the day, but because I love painting. There’s just something so relaxing and therapeutic about it. No matter what I’m feeling at the moment, be it good, bad, or somewhere in-between, if I have a brush in my hand, I can get it all out.

I spend the next forty-five minutes so immersed in my work that when the bell rings signaling the end of class; it startles me so badly; I knock over my tray of brushes. They fall to the floor with a clang, scattering every which way. I bend down to gather them all up at the same time Rain Rivers reaches for them. Our heads collide in a loud thud.

I rub the knot forming on my forehead, my cheeks reddening. Sorry, I mutter.

The tiny dragonfly charm on her eyebrow ring jiggles as she rubs at the knot I’m sure is also forming on her head. It’s okay, she says with a half smile. Grabbing a handful of brushes, she places them on my desk while I scoop up the rest.

Careful, she might put a curse on you for that, Kat teases once Rain leaves the classroom.

Everyone has this notion that Rain is a witch just because she’s a little, well, odd. Sure she has jet-black hair, assorted facial piercings, dresses all in black, and pretty much keeps to herself all the time, but that doesn’t necessarily mean she’s a witch. Maybe she’s just really shy and likes the color black.

I don’t believe in stuff like that, I tell Kat.

Kat angles the strap of her bag over her shoulder and nudges her chair under the table with the tip of her zebra printed pumps. How the girl doesn’t break her neck in those things amazes me.

I got to run, but you’ll meet me tonight outside The Iron Knife around 8pm, right? Oh, and don’t forget your ID. She winks at me before disappearing out the door. I roll my eyes, but smile despite myself.

By the time I finish cleaning up my mess, the classroom is empty and the hall outside is pretty much deserted aside from a janitor pushing a large broom. I flip the light switch off and pick up my pace as I head to my locker to gather what I need for homework over the weekend. I don’t know why, but being in an empty school always tends to give me the creeps, so the sooner I can get outside the better.

Once I get what I need, I head out to the student parking lot at the back of the building where I see Jared Vaughn lounging on the hood of my car. His back is resting against the windshield. One arm tucked behind his head, the other draped across his stomach. His legs are stretched across the length of the hood, ankles crossed. As I get closer, I see that his ear buds are in and his eyes are closed. He looks so peaceful that if not for his foot moving to the beat of the music, I’d think he was asleep.

Careful not to alert him to my presence, I approach as stealthily as I can before slamming my hands down on the hood of the car on either side of his legs. He jumps, yanking his ear buds out while simultaneously sliding down the hood a few inches.

He kicks his foot out, barely grazing me as I jump out of the way. That’s not funny, he says, trying not to laugh. You scared the crap out of me.

That was the point. I laugh. You should have seen your face.

Ha ha. Glad I’m here for your amusement. He scoots the rest of the way off the car landing in front of me where he then grabs a hold of my shoulders looking me in the eye. Just know I’m planning my revenge, Hanna Harper. He smiles mischievously, showing the cute little dimple in his left cheek.

I’ll keep that in mind. I disengage myself from his grip to unlock the car door. So what’s up? Need a ride again? I throw my bag in the back where it proceeds to hit the edge of the seat before rolling off onto the back floorboards.

Yeah. My stupid Jeep won’t start again. He grabs his backpack from the hood of the car before making his way around to the passenger side. Jared is pushing 6ft 2in, so it’s always entertaining to watch him squeeze into my little blue Chevette.

Granted, it’s not the roomiest or prettiest of cars, but it gets me where I need to go. And besides, it holds sentimental value. It used to belong to my mom. I get in then put the key in the ignition, bringing the engine to life with a loud roar. Okay, so it’s not the quietest of cars either.

Jared struggles to fasten his seat belt in the limited space. His knees are more or less pinned against the glove box, and his head nearly touches the ceiling. I feel like a sardine in here.

Good thing we only live ten minutes from school, I say with a grin. Jared has been my neighbor and one of my best friends since he and his family moved in across the street when we were both five. Our moms were best friends too and would do everything together, but that all changed when my parents died in a car accident two years ago orphaning my older brother Adam and me.

It happened the summer after my brother graduated from high school. He was so excited to be going away to college, and he’d had all these big plans for how his life was going to go once he got there, but that all ended with a knock on the door, a knock that changed our lives forever. Adam was eighteen at the time so he inherited the house, control of the sizable life insurance money, and because I was only fifteen, me. After that he gave up his dream school and enrolled in a local college to stay here and take care of me so I wouldn’t have to leave my friends. I don’t think I ever thanked him for that.

Got any plans tonight? Jared asks, bringing me back to the here and now. He shifts in his seat, attempting to get more comfortable. Brad’s in town, and you know how big of a douche he can be. I thought maybe we could see a movie or something.

I steal a quick glance at him, as I turn right onto Oak Street. His light brown hair is curled around the edges of his dark blue Lake Haven High School baseball cap. He likes to wear it so the bill hangs low, covering his eyes, which he’s doing now. I asked him once why he wears it like that and his answer was so he could see out and I couldn’t see in. But I can see his bright green eyes now, and they’re pleading with me to accept his offer.

I would, but I already told Kat that I’d go to The Iron Knife with her tonight. There’s a band playing there she wants to see.

Oh. His shoulders slightly droop. It breaks my heart. He doesn’t talk about it much, but I know his home life isn’t that great when his step-dad Brad is there.

Though I know Kat and Jared pretty much despise each other, I can’t stomach the thought of him being stuck with Brad. You should come with us. It could be fun.

I guess a night out with you and Look At Me Barbie does sound better than spending the night in the house with Brad the Evil Step-Dad.

I narrow my eyes, giving him a look of disapproval.

What? He gives me his best innocent eyes, but the sly grin on his face means he knows exactly what.

You know I don’t like it when you call Kat that. It’s true, Kat prefers to be the center of attention at all times, but she’s still my friend. And good friends don’t let other friends call them names behind their backs.

What? It’s not like I say it to her face.

I roll my eyes as I pull into my driveway. After shutting off the engine, I turn to face him. I’m supposed to meet Kat at 8pm in front of the club. If you want, you can meet me back here later and we can ride together.

Jared opens the door, stretching his legs as he climbs out. No, that’s okay. I called to have the Jeep towed to Mike’s Body Shop while I was waiting for you after school. It should be done by tonight. I’ll text you when I get there.

Okay. Sounds good.

With a half grin, he tosses his backpack over his shoulder before heading across the street to his house. Later, he hollers back.

At least fifty people are ahead of Kat and me as we get in line to get into the Iron Knife. Why I let her drag me to these places all the time is beyond me, especially here in the sketchy part of town where my chances of getting mugged or worse are pretty high. Not to mention the lines are always long and the people waiting in them are almost always rude.

We move ahead a few paces and I take out my cell for about the millionth time to see if Jared has texted. No such luck. No new messages. I shove it back in my pocket, resisting the urge to pull it back out and check it again.

Ow. I turn to see who or what jabbed me in the back. Some girl I’ve never seen before with a gold hoop in her nose and fake lashes glares down at me as if her jabbing me was my fault.

Problem? Fake Lashes asks. She shifts her weight to one side, putting her hand on her hip.

No, I sigh, turning back around.

Fake Lashes jabs me again, then follows it up with a series of giggles and insults. Choosing to ignore it, I move closer to Kat. I really don’t want to end up in a fight with some random girl. I wouldn’t even know how to fight her anyway, having never been in one before. Fake Lashes, on the other hand, looks like she could take me out with one punch.

Kat is too busy adjusting her black miniskirt that looks like it was made for a small child and not a seventeen-year-old girl to notice my almost fight. She reaches down the front of her red tank top and pulls out a hidden tube of lipstick, then applies another layer to her already red lips. Seeing me watch, she holds the tube out offering me some. Boob lipstick—I think I’ll pass. I shake my head. She shrugs, then drops it back into her bra.

Bright red lipstick is not my first choice in lip color. It’s way too bold for me, but definitely not for Kat. She tends to gravitate toward the bold. Sometimes I wish I were more like her. She can be so fearless, never afraid to put herself out there, never caring about what anybody else thinks. The only bold thing I’ve ever done was put blue streaks in my hair. I’m not even bold enough to dress the part of going to a club. Every girl here is dressed in tight clothes, short skirts, heels, or knee-high boots and I’m in jeans, a plain pink t-shirt, and Converse.

We finally make it to the door where I hand the bouncer my ID and cover charge. My heart pounds in my chest, my hands growing sweaty as he looks back and forth between my photo and me.

I hate this part.

I love your tattoos, Kat says to the bouncer as she runs a long red nail down his arm. Without a second thought he hands me back my ID, giving Kat his full attention. She winks at me with a sly smile while I move over to the side to wait for her.

Kat blows the bouncer a kiss, setting his cheeks on fire before we make our way up a set of dimly lit narrow stairs that have been painted a dark red. The walls are the same color and covered in ‘for a good time call blah, blah, blah’ messages. As we inch closer to the top, my Converse start to stick to the stairs under my feet. Gross. Who knows what it could be and truthfully, I’m probably better off not knowing.

At the top of the landing, we’re ushered into a large area that’s packed full of dancing bodies. The walls are black and the floors are the same dark red as the stairs as far as I can tell. I wonder if they’re painted that way on purpose. This club looks like it’s the kind of place where fights break out, no doubt leaving blood splattered on the floor. Hopefully that wasn’t the sticky substance I stepped in earlier.

The main stage is set up at the far end of the room where the band Infinite Haze is already performing. To my left is a bar that runs the entire length of the room, and to my right, is a series of tables and booths, leaving the middle of the room clear for dancing. Above me, colored lights shine down, flashing to the beat of the music, and in each corner, large iron cages hang from the ceiling containing a barely clothed dancer.

A bead of sweat runs down my back. Even with the air conditioning and the low hanging fans oscillating throughout the club, it’s hotter than hell in here. Using the hair tie I keep around my wrist, I pull my hair up into a ponytail to keep it from sticking to the back of my neck.

This band’s pretty good, I yell over at Kat.

They’re awesome. Closing her eyes, she begins swaying to the music, attracting the attention of every male in close vicinity. When the song finishes, she grabs a hold of my arm leading me over to the tables. I think I see Jessica and Ryan over there. Let’s go say hi.

Jessica and Ryan toss me out a hello as we take a seat at their table. Ryan’s arms are wrapped around Jessica, holding her cozily against his chest. They’ve been together since 6 th grade and are one of those sickeningly cute couples that are practically glued at the hips. You never see one without the other.

Ryan is the Lake Haven High School quarterback and Jessica is co-captain of the cheerleading squad with Kat so they’re really more her friends than mine and it isn’t long before the three of them slip into their own little world leaving me on the outside. But I don’t mind, discussions of cheerleading and football really don’t interest me, and that’s all they ever talk about when they get together, anyway.

Buy you a drink? A familiar voice whispers in my ear between songs. Jared smiles with a wink as he places a glass of something dark in front of me. There are no seats left at our table, so he steals one from the table behind us. Swiveling it around he straddles it, resting his arms along the back as he watches Kat flirt with some guy at a neighboring table. I see Look At Me Barbie has caught another Ken doll.

I smack him on the arm even though I laugh at his comment. Thankfully, the music is loud enough that Kat doesn’t hear his little nickname for her. I know she wouldn’t take too kindly to it. Of course, Jared wouldn’t like what Kat calls him behind his back either.

I didn’t think you were going to make it tonight? I say, glad that he did.

What and miss all this? He leans back, spreading his arms wide.

Smart ass.

Jared’s only reply is to wink at me with a playful grin.

I take a sip of the drink he brought me, savoring the refreshing taste of Dr. Pepper, my favorite brand of soda. So, was Brad there when you got home after school?

Yep.

Was he an ass?

Yep.

Sorry.

He shrugs like it’s no big deal even though I know that it is. He’s only home for the weekend this time, then he’ll be back on the road.

I hate the idea of Jared having to go home when Brad’s there. Thankfully, Brad is a truck driver, so he’s gone most of the time because when he’s home he drinks. And when he drinks, he gets mean. And when he gets mean he gets really mean and takes it out on Jared and his mom. Jared denies it, but I know Brad hits him. I’ve seen the marks. But every time I ask him about it he blows me off and changes the subject. So I’ve learned to stop asking, but that doesn’t mean I have to stop trying to help him in some way or another.

You can crash at my house if you want? I offer.

Taking a hold of my left hand, he flips it over, tracing the scar there with his finger. Goosebumps spring to life, trailing their way up my arm. I remember when you got this trying to help me hide from Brad when we were ten. His eyes meet mine for a second before returning to my hand. You’d cut it on a piece of broken glass in the garage and had to get seven stitches. Bringing my hand to his lips, he kisses the scar. His lips are soft and warm and for a split second I wonder what it would feel like if it weren’t my hand he was kissing. I mentally smack myself as heat rises to my cheeks. What is wrong with me? Jared is my best friend. I shouldn’t be having thoughts of kissing him. He lowers my hand back down to the table, but doesn’t let go. I appreciate the offer, but Brad should be passed out by the time I get home.

I will the redness in my face to go away. I don’t know why Jared kissing my hand got to me like that. It never has before. I clear my throat. In case he’s not, you know where to find me.

Kat flops herself down in the chair beside me, making her presence known. Her eyes narrow in a hateful glare when they land on Jared. I see they’re letting in just anyone now.

They let you in, didn’t they? Jared spits back. He gives my hand one final squeeze before letting go.

Two seconds later, their bickering begins. It’s impossible for them to be in the same room with one another without fighting about something. It’s hard to believe that they ever dated. Okay, so it was back in our sophomore year and it only lasted a week, but since the ‘break-up’ Jared is like the only guy who doesn’t fawn all over her. This is something that irritates her, even though she swears she no longer has any feelings for him. Sometimes I wonder if she’s not lying about that.

Deciding to ignore them, I focus on the band instead. Three guys, who look around my age, maybe a few years older, make up the group. Fully engrossed they perform with a mad energy that’s infectious and I soon find myself tapping my feet along to the beat of the drum getting completely swept away in it.

I’m quietly singing along to what I’ve learned of the chorus so far when I hear Jared’s chair slide back. His eyes are narrowed into tiny slits shooting daggers in Kat’s direction.

Are you leaving? I ask, as he gets to his feet.

I am if she’s staying. He stares her down. She stares right back with a look of triumph on her face. A few choice words leave his mouth, Kat smiles like they’re a complement. Giving her the finger, he storms off.

I give Kat a disapproving look. What was that all about?

She shrugs her shoulders with a small smile.

Why do you always have to be so mean to him?

I don’t wait for her to answer. All I want to do is find Jared and make sure he’s okay. Kat can be pretty vicious when she wants to be. I catch a glimpse of his blue ball cap near the front exit. I push my way through the crowd of swaying bodies, making it to the middle of the floor when someone grabs a hold of my arm and twists me back around.

2

W hat’s the hurry there, sweetheart? Some dude with spiky green hair has a hold of my arm, his grip tightening until his fingers dig into my skin. He pulls me in closer, pressing himself up against me as he pushes me backward toward the stage. How ‘bout a dance? His speech is slurred and his breath reeks of alcohol and cigarettes. I gag, nearly throwing up a little in my mouth.

Get off me! I pry myself away, giving him a hard shove. He stumbles back a few steps, but quickly recovers, holding his hands up in front of him feigning defeat.

Don’t be like that, sweetheart. Looking me up and down, he licks his lips. The effect is disgusting, making me feel like I need an immediate shower. He reaches out for me again and somehow manages to hook a finger under the hem of my shirt. Seconds later, he has a fist full and is jerking me closer.

My heart speeds up in both anger and fear, each one fighting for dominance.

Anger wins.

Who does this guy think he is? I jerk my body backward, but he just won’t let go. Left with no other choice, I knee him as hard as I can in a place no guy ever wants to be hit. He falls to the floor, a string of obscenities tumbling out of his mouth between groans of pain.

Glad to be away from that creep, I continue to push and shove my way through the crowd. It’s like trying to swim against the current. For every step forward, I’m pushed back two. I look around, hoping to spot Jared’s blue ball cap in the sea of people, but he’s gone.

Great. Now what?

I’m still upset with Kat, so going back to the table is out of the question. She’s probably found some new guy to flirt with by now, anyway. Deciding to just call it a night and go home, I pull out my

Reviews for Marked

[Faith · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

There are mistakes in the punctuation sometimes, which make you have to re-read things once or twice to understand what's going on, but this is a good light read for some people. Additionally, her descriptions are good and luxurious most of the time. Sometimes, I think she should've "shown" things rather than "told". Hanna's best friend doesn't seem to be able to think rationally. Thus, the drama between best friend Kat, lover boyfriend Jared, and Hanna does not make much sense and does not seem plausible. Hanna doesn't bother to tell the police about the break-in but even though she wanted the police there? She knows Officer Jensen knows something about her mysterious mark but waits to ask him anything about it for no apparent reason?

Although the main characters are pretty much all involved with The Order, you'd think The Order would be mentioned more, or at least, its hierarchy, its history, or at least anything about it. It's like a group of kids come in and say "I'm an alien from another planet" but the story never mentions anything about their home planet.

You can pretty much guess what's going to happen (Who's the evil traitor in The Order?) but I would not recommend this to someone who wants the story to be about the girl. This is a very important thing for me, because I am a young girl. I don't relate that well to teenage chosen-one boys, and I'd much rather be the chosen-one than the chosen-one's-newbie-protector. You'd think the series is going to be about the girl, especially given the book description. It's misleading.

Hanna is nobody special, even though the cover description makes it seem like she's the fulcrum of the plot. "And now, because of the symbol and the secret it contains, a secret she must protect at all costs, those black eyes have set their sights on her." Not so fast. The only reason she has any importance at all is because she's a memory holder. She's just a walking bag of bones with someone else's important memories. So, in a way, that moves the story along, but it feels like an excuse just to have a female lead in there at all. I think the story would've been better off being written from Jared's perspective. At least I wouldn't have bothered wasting a few hours to read this, had I known it's all about a boy.

However, Hanna does not become a whimpering fool over said chosen-boy at any point in the story. She can recognize her mistakes in judgement, such as kissing her best friend when she knows she may not be in the best state of mind. Her will is strong and she does the right thing, especially when face-to-face with said traitor and black-eyed fallen angel.

I don't see why there's a pseudo-love triangle between Will-Hanna-Jared, especially since Will hasn't even known her for more than a month. Thankfully, Will does not turn into a blubbering idiot, and he also knows which boundaries he can and cannot cross. For example, he does not kiss Hanna in front of Jared because he's angry Hanna and Jared are together.

Kat, oh, cat. I think I would've liked seeing you fleshed out more. She could've made a very touching villain. Same thing with "Blondie." Who doesn't like a good villain backstory, like how horrible and painful it must have been to fall from heaven, and how that created a drive for vengeance against God? Anyway...

This probably would have gotten 3 or 4 stars except for the fact that I felt utterly lied to about what the book was about, since the description was misleading. The book was NOT about a girl, but it was about a girl who's questing for a boy, and the whole book essentially revolves around how important it is to find the boy, so the girl is only important as a) the memory bag to find the boy and b) the chosen-boy's lover. Not my cup of tea.