Page 10 of Marked

Blair sat in the chair in her kitchen, her eyes glued to the canvas bag that lay on her table.

She opened it, slowly unpacking the two items wrapped in cloth.

She hadn't dared to carry them out in public after leaving her classroom but instead laid them at the bottom of her bag and carried them back to her house.

She had wrapped the dagger multiple times to stop any harm she might do to herself.

She cautiously retrieved the dagger and unwrapped it.

Lifting her hand up to a random ray of sunshine that leaked in through a window, she placed the dagger in her palm and eyed the way the sunlight illuminated the details.

Size-wise, it was not much bigger than her hand, but the blade extended past her longest finger.

The detail was what made it exquisite to her.

An intricate array of swirls and patterns adorned the handle.

The onyx color was darker than any black she had ever seen, but somehow it managed to produce an effect like diamonds, glittering in the light.

She rotated her wrist, watching as light bounced off and reflected.

Balancing it on her finger, it felt weightless, not like other weapons.

This one was different; unlike anything she had seen before.

She swiveled it more to the sides, taking note of how the intricacy was on both sides of the blade.

It was the perfect size, very discreet, and easy to hide.

Somehow, in just the day she had acquired it, the small item subdued a majority of the anxiety she felt.

She finally had some form of protection.

Against what? She wasn’t sure . Plus, using a weapon was new to her.

She would have to figure out the correct way to hold it.

That aside, she was still glad she had taken it.

Such a small yet brazen tool that could ultimately prove the difference between safety and danger.

She gazed around the room, her eyes finding small pockets in which she could hide it while inside the house.

The instructions were clear from Damien: keep it out of sight.

There were two options: a hollowed-out book on her shelf and an open canister in her kitchen reserved for flour.

Nothing seemed to fit the majestic nature of the dagger.

She looked at it again and thought about ways she could wield it instead of hiding such a glorious specimen.

Although it was common for men in town to carry a way to defend themselves, she couldn’t have this out in the open around her children.

She sighed for what felt like the hundredth time today and wrapped the dagger, placing it back in her satchel.

Next was a crafted lock, if you could call it that.

The metal was shaped using a simple method and more so resembled a bolt.

As she looked at it, she realized there were two pieces to fit on either side of the door.

One was rather large and held a cylinder bolt that would lock into the other side once it was moved into place.

Holding it up, it proved to be extremely sturdy and durable.

Blair noted the holes on the sides were meant for a place to install it on the door.

It was heavy enough to be uncomfortable to lift, but she didn't think it would require much effort to attach it to the door.

With that thought, her brain shifted to Damien, the person who had given her these things.

She almost dropped the lock completely out of sheer annoyance.

Inside her head, she knew he had ultimately helped her.

Despite the anger he caused, he did deliver on his word and made something that could help.

She set the metal pieces down on the table with a dull thud.

For the rest of the afternoon, Blair made an effort to stay busy.

She cleaned her kitchen but found her fingers were strangling the broom.

Trying to bake, she dropped a bowl of batter due to the shakiness in her hands.

Deciding to settle in and ease her body, she even tried reading but found her foot silently tapping as she reread the same sentence over and over again.

Nothing seemed to still her anxious mind.

As a last-ditch effort, she had taken a bath in hopes of easing the knot of nerves she housed.

She ended up leaving the warm water quickly.

The cotton cloth she was using as her towel, clung to her thick frame as she passed by the items yet again.

Every time she passed them, they seemed to call out to her.

She huffed, moving to the bedroom to quickly get dressed.

After dressing, she decided to surrender to the constant pull and grabbed the bundle that was the dagger.

Stepping outside and toward the back of her cottage, she opted for the side that lined up with the trees.

Her neighbors were not close; a thick layer of tall, exuberant trees fenced her house in from those around her.

She stepped up to a tree and laid her hand on the bark.

A pesky, unwelcoming texture met her skin.

Slowly but building confidence, she unwrapped the dagger once more.

Once it was fully out, she tested it in her grip.

She moved it around in her palm until it felt right.

She raised the dagger to the tree and traced a small spiral into the trunk.

The edge of the dagger easily carved into the strong wood, leaving a fine line where Blair pulled and pushed.

A smile was soon plastered on her face. This was not nearly as scary as she had made it out to be in her head.

Soon after her carving was complete, she eyed the other side of the trunk.

This time, she wanted to test her boundaries even more.

She took a step back and raised her arm, the tip of the dagger touching the bark.

She took another step back and another, stopping when there was a distance of fifteen feet from the tree.

Adrenaline began to spike in her bloodstream as she raised the dagger to throw.

Her thumb was securely placed over the handle.

Bringing back her arm in slow motion, she threw it.

The dagger spun once and thudded, handle-first, against the tree. Then, it dropped to the ground with a clumsy clink. She let out a sharp breath and walked over to pick it up. Her fingers were already smudged with dirt.

"Okay. That was... practice."

She tried again. This time, it veered left, slicing through a patch of weeds before vanishing into the underbrush around the tree .

"Seriously?"

Her jaw clenched. She yanked the dagger from the ground and walked back, breathing out and trying one more time. It hit the tree, flat side first, and fell. She stood there, hands on hips, staring at the wood like it had personally insulted her.

Her yard was quiet except for the wind in the grass and a bird singing somewhere overhead.

It didn't feel like the right soundtrack to failure, but here she was.

She rolled her shoulders and picked up the dagger.

This time, she didn't mutter a spell under her breath or try to make up a technique. She just inhaled and threw.

Too high. It was stuck in a low-hanging branch from the tree, barely.

She groaned and flopped to the ground, flat on her back, with arms stretched out. She could just picture Damien's smug reaction to her failing. That mental image made her even more angry.

"What am I doing?" she said to the sky.

She stayed there, letting the evening breeze cool her frustration.

She turned her head, watching the last bit of sun slip behind the treetops.

Then she sat up. Picking up the dagger for the final time, she stood, eyes narrowing in concentration.

Her fingers gripped the hilt which reflected the faint light of the receding sun.

She threw without thinking. It spun through the air, glinting, then thudded into the tree with a satisfying thunk. Her heart raced, and a grin stretched across her face .

"Perfect," she whispered to herself, stepping forward to retrieve the dagger. She was almost giddy with the rush from the well-executed throw. She stood there for a moment, admiring her work, before hearing something.

A subtle rustle came from behind the nearby oak tree, the sound sharp in the otherwise silent night. Blair's pulse skipped. Her smile faltered.

The air around her shifted, and the hairs on her neck stood up. She squinted at the shadow of the tree, but it was too dark to make out anything clearly. A few seconds passed, and then the shape behind the tree shifted again, just enough to confirm her suspicion: someone, or something, was there.

The thrill she'd felt moments before evaporated. She turned sharply, her eyes darting in the direction of the house. Knowing it was only a few yards away, her fear made it feel much longer.

Without hesitation, she snatched the dagger from the tree, gripped it in her palm, and started to move swiftly toward the door.

Her feet barely made a sound on the ground as she moved.

She glanced over her shoulder once more, a feeling of dread tightening in her stomach as she reached for the door handle.