Marianne: Blood Trilogy, #3

By Ruth Miranda

"I'm what's been made of me, a product of someone else's depravity. There are scars going deeper than the eye can see, they're carved into our blood, placed there by the actions of others. You, of all people, should know this. Threatening Caius was the only way I knew of to assure your undivided attention. If you couldn't love me, at least you'd hate me. But you would notice me."

What secrets hide in Marianne's past?

After being thrown to a time portal by Nora Bell's magic, Marianne finds herself face to face with her own past, one she must now share with Marcus. Will witnessing the life events, that led to having met her at Stuart Harlow's mansion, change the way he sees her? And will his worry about having left Cai alone, back in their own time, allow him to stay focused and clear headed, around a woman who once held such allure over him?
Will Cai and Nora find a way to bring Marcus back from the past?
And will they condemn Marianne to stay locked there, with her own demons?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ruth Miranda
• Release date: Sep 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386866992

Ruth Miranda

Ruth Miranda is a Portugal born and raised author who feels more comfortable around words than people, especially if those words happen to be in English, a language she once taught for a living - amongst other varied jobs. She started making up stories in her head as a child, to put herself to sleep, but the stories kept growing with her, so eventually, they needed to be put to paper.

Book preview

Cover design by Ruth Miranda

In Memoriam

Marianne

1

Marcus groaned, taking in his surroundings, while seated on the hard pavement.

With no idea to his whereabouts, he caught sight of Marianne from the corner of his eye. She lay very still on the ground, eyes shut. He wondered if she was injured, or even dead. Whatever Nora Bell released on them, had been strong, powerful, and damaging. The brunt of it being directed towards Marianne, still Marcus got caught in its grip, ending up wherever Nora had thrown them to. A few roads down, a couple of blocks from where Avalon House stood?

He didn’t recognise the place, this wasn’t Afflyn’s high street, nor one of the roads he and Cai had strolled around during their time in the village. He wasn’t even sure of being in Afflyn, any longer. It had been late morning, the sun above Marianne, setting her hair on fire; now evening spread its fingers across the sky, tinting it inky blue velvet, soon to be dotted with blazing stars.

Taking a closer look at the witch, Marcus saw her eyes flutter, knew she was still alive. The woman was like a cat, nine lives inside her. He wondered how many more she still had, that she could cart around, and get away scotch free from all the bad she did. A vise grabbed his heart in its snare, breath escaping his lungs while eyes rested over the fallen figure, a surge of emotion rushing through him and smothering every other notion he might have about her.

She was alive. And his spirits soared for it.

It didn’t matter, all the harm she’d caused, her empty threats, her coldness and cruelty. None of it mattered, for he must be deranged; and as perverted as Marianne; if what he felt for her was this strong, this persistent, that all he wanted was to kneel by her and hold her tight, have her lips once more, taste her kiss. It wouldn’t do, to allow himself such thoughts, the woman was dangerous and had sworn to kill Cai. Whatever Marcus may come to do with his life, one thing he wouldn’t allow himself to fail at, and that was making sure his brother remained safe.

Pushing himself back on his hands, he joined Marianne, noticed her waking up. Eyes as dazed and hazy as always, she sat up, back propped against the wall, legs pulled to her chest, glancing around as if trying to understand where she was. Then her eyes connected to Marcus’s, he saw the fear in them. His heart stopped; if it scared Marianne, it must be bad.

Where are we? What happened? he whispered, body shaken by tremors he tried hard to disguise.

Marianne held out one hand to shush him, stood up, looked closely at her surroundings, the already pale skin losing more of its colour. Panic drenched Marcus in cold sweat. He must get back to his brother.

Marianne, what the fuck happened here? Where are we?

Again, her hand slashed the air, palm towards him, a silent recommendation he was to keep quiet.

Shut the fuck up, Marcus, just let me think for a minute, she said, straining her eyes in search.

He stood up too, blushing at the sound of his name on her lips, realised he hadn’t fooled her at all, with his childish trick of dressing up as his brother so Marianne thought she had Caius.

You knew? hope fled him. How?

Sharp, a rapid movement, she flicked her head round, turned to face him. Their eyes met, hers like blades, the grey irises liquid and bright as melted steel.

"There’s a terrified little boy at the back of your eyes, always. He doesn’t exist in your brother. Cai’s eyes hold a different kind of haunting, another kind of pain. You may be able to fool half the world pretending to be him, but you’ll never fool me, Marcus."

He tried not to attach hidden meanings to those words, or the tone she used; to no avail, his brain had already latched on to it, trying to deceive him into believing something that wasn’t there, couldn’t be. Marianne had every reason to hate him and want him dead.

Do you know where we are, how we got here? Marcus asked, knowing he wouldn’t be able to tell her the truth about Nora’s powers, Emrys’s spell having him in a strong hold.

She looked around, registered every detail her eyes could catch, turned on her back, focusing sights on the small iron gate, painted a shade of light green, already peeling.

That girl, her voice was low, she walked to the gate and placed one hand over it, eyes searching the house it belonged to, is she Cai’s girlfriend?

Marcus shrugged, what point was there to this line of questioning? What did it matter who Nora was?

No.

I thought there weren’t any left, they were a myth, extinct.

Shuddering at the panic in her voice, Marcus tried to grab one of Marianne’s hands, still holding on to the wicker basket she always carried. What are you talking about?

That girl’s a Timewalker. She opened a portal and threw us through it.

What? he had feared as much, but hearing someone else say it, made it all the more real.

We can’t stay here, she grabbed Marcus’s wrist, curled her hand in his, pulled him down the road, boots clattering over the pavement in a succession of quick steps. I need to get out of here, so I can think.

Marcus followed her lead, turning when Marianne turned, walking as fast as she, sweating with the exertion and the heat of the evening. A Summer’s evening, if he’d ever seen one. Mind bursting with questions, he tried to recall his last moments at Afflyn. Nora had recognised him, knew he wasn’t Cai, and still, she’d tried to protect him. No, she’d tried to protect Caius, casting her spell to get rid of Marianne and ensure Cai’s safety, understanding what Marcus tried to do, playing along with his deception. One that hadn’t worked, seeing Marianne had known all along who he really was.

The thought Nora had tried to keep Caius safe was a balm to his heart; no matter how far he might be from his brother, nor how long it took him to get back, there would someone by Cai’s side who cared as much as Marcus. Someone Cai trusted and had opened up to. He wouldn’t be alone, Nora would take care of him, their elder brother too. Still, they didn’t know Cai as well as Marcus, and didn’t know how to deal with him, when one of his despondent moods hit. His brother might be an immortal, but if he cut himself deep enough, and bled for long enough, Marcus was sure he’d lose his life.

Someone had to be around to ensure that didn’t happen. Someone had to be around to make sure, if push came to shove, Cai could be turned into another kind of vampire altogether, and keep his life. Marcus must be there to save him, when the time came where Caius needed saving. He refused to give up the fight, he would not lose his brother; he’d never lose his brother.

Marianne, he pleaded, stopping their wild run, noticing they were out of the village by now, surrounded by darkening woods, Marianne already entering a cluster of trees, where the hell are we?

She turned back, eyes glistening, as if carrying traces of tears, and Marcus realised she was just as scared as he.

She’s a Timewalker who can open portals in time. That’s why she said I shouldn’t underestimate her, Marianne mused. "I thought she was a weak witch, but she had all this power. Look, she was trying to keep your brother safe, I’m sure she wasn’t fooled by your pretence at being Cai. So she opened a time portal and sent us through it.

Time and space can be bent to a Timewalker’s wishes, when they’re this strong. The most common use of such powers is in the shape of witches conversing with echoes from the past, being able to witness past events. Very rarely are they able to cross over and enter said events. This girl, I bet she can do that. But she’s a neophyte, and can’t control her powers, yet. Did what she could, cast a spell to get me away, you were caught in it. She cast the spell, I brought us here.

I know what a Timewalker is, Marianne, he said, the wild story he’d heard from his elder brother’s lips very vivid in his mind, one that had mentioned Nora’s particular brand of powers.I understand what Nora tried to do. But do you know where we are?

Marianne dove into the clump of trees, Marcus sped after her, entering the dark woods. Night had fallen, a beautiful evening, balmy, with a full moon shinning above them, its radiance breaking through the bows of the trees, bathing the soil and their path in a creamy, milky light.

I know where we are, I just don’t know when.

Nora sent us to your past?

Yes, that’s what I’ve been telling you all along, alright? pausing amidst the thick trees, Marianne took a turn, looked around. This is Warton, Lancaster, ever heard of it?

Marcus shook his head, he’d done little travelling around the UK. Ever since finding Caius, his time spent on the road had been touring with ‘Morning Rain’ through Europe, or the US. All he knew of this country was London, Belveny Moor and now Afflyn and Falkirk.

Never mind. I went to university in Lancaster, shared a tiny house with a friend down at Warton, we landed right on its front door.

Why didn’t you knock, then? Maybe someone there could help.

There are rules to Timewalking. You can’t go around intervening with the past, changing things, you can’t contact your past self. It might kill you in every timeline. That’s why I needed to get us out of there. Until I can find what year this is, we need to stay hidden.

No, what we need is to find a way back to our own timeline, Marcus shouted. I realise this is the icing on the cake for you, me being unable to reach Cai, but be warned, Marianne, you either help me find a way back to my brother or...

Or what, Marcus? What are you gonna do to me you haven’t done before? Finish what you screwed up two years ago? She stepped out of his reach, searching the trees, sights set on a cottage just barely seen in the distance. Her face crumpled, as if in pain. Do you think I want to be here? Our only hope of getting back to where we came from is that girl. She’s the one who can open the portal back, so we can step through. So you better hope and pray, to whatever deity vampires live by, that your brother keeps his head about him, and makes the fucking witch rescue us.

How can she do that? How will she know where and when we are?

Marianne covered her face with shaky hands, sighed, he was right. How would the girl know? Then it dawned on her, what Marcus had confided one sleepless night two years before, as they sat together, drinking wine inside Stuart’s library, while everyone else was asleep.

Remember what you told me, about Cai having these visions of your life? Does that still happen? Do the two of you still have that strong bond between you?

He nodded, they did. How many times had they been privy to each other’s thoughts and feelings, having to exert intense effort only to sever those connections momentarily? Could he use this as a beam for Caius to track him down? Would Cai think of it, too? If he did, there might be a way for them to pass on messages to each other, for Nora to track Marcus and Marianne, so she could bring them back to their time.

You must try and reach him, then. Use it as an anchor for them to get to us.

I don’t know how to do it.

I forgot you have no magic, this will be hard, Marianne’s eyes went back to the cottage, as if expecting to see something, someone. Marcus followed her gaze, noticed lights shining in the upper floor, but nothing more. How do I teach magic to someone who isn’t a witch?

He blushed, cast his eyes down, remembered they’d kept his real nature from Marianne all along, Stuart insisting on the need for it. I’m a vampire blood witch.

Her eyes popped in awe, only to turn bitter and cold. "You kept that from me? After everything you told me that night?"

You got me drunk, that evening, of course I told you stuff. I don’t drink.

"You told me stuff because you and I are the same, Marcus. We’re broken by what others did to us, we’ve been through hell, and that’s left us damaged. When I said I understood all you’ve been through, I meant every word. But you chose to believe the tale Stuart sold you, never even questioning its veracity.

Because you’re broken; a girl broke you and now you can’t bring yourself to trust. It was so easy for him, to plant the seed in your head, you were eager to jump in and buy it. Because people see us as they want to, and that’s what you did. You needed me to be another version of that girl, it never crossed your mind Stuart wanted you out of his way.

Out of his way? Why? Why would he lie about you, why would he need to make me despise you as much as I do?

She winced at his words, Marcus swallowed hard at the lie he forced upon himself. He didn’t despise Marianne as much as he wished.

Stuart knew of my feelings for you, she replied, turned her back on him. You’re part of the Maledectum now, aren’t you? Sensing his concurrent nod, she mimicked the gesture. It never crossed your mind to look up my files, check if his story was true? Did you really not care?

I tried to, Marcus whispered, wondering if he meant he’d tried not to care or if he referred to having tried to read her files. "They’re off limits for me. But I heard it from you, I told you so. Cai and I, together, we heard you tell that can de loup you would have Brontë ready for him. A fourteen-year-old girl, she was, and you were ready to..."

Stop it, she shouted, checked herself, took a long look around, trying to find if she’d disturbed