No Peace for the Damned

the room. Markus was growing his brown hair long, but it still wasn’t to the length of Malcolm’s dark blond. He didn’t have Malcolm’s bulk yet either, but it didn’t matter
.
    Their senses weren’t as good as mine. They could turn on the lights or open the drapes and find me standing there, but the search was part of the thrill. At least for Malcolm
.
    “She’s not in here,” Markus said. Then he picked up a silver letter opener from the desk next to the door. He examined it for a minute then slipped it in his pocket. Damn it. I hadn’t seen it there. Now he was armed
.
    “Oh, she’s here all right,” Malcolm purred, then he called out in a deep, sing-song voice, “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
    Markus chuckled, but it was more nervousness than amusement. Markus was scared of me. He was scared of everyone
.
    Malcolm snuck around the side of the bed. I would have made a run for it except Markus was still by the door. He wasn’t as powerful and certainly wasn’t as into this game as Malcolm, but he’d try to take me down if I got too close
.
    Malcolm leaned back on the bed but kept one foot on the floor. “How about this,” he said as he fluffed the pillows behind his head. “I’ll give you to the count of three. If you don’t show yourself, we’ll turn on the light. Not even you can hide from the light.”
    Actually, I could. I could go completely invisible now. But for some reason, I didn’t want anyone to know that yet. And Malcolm’s game wasn’t enough of a threat to give away my new secret
.
    “One…two…last chance…”
    I didn’t move
.
    “Three.”
    Markus flipped on the light and I squinted into the sudden glare. My eyes had barely adjusted and Malcolm was there. His body slammed me against the wall. His hands immediately went to my chest, his mouth to my neck. He sucked in the skin between his teeth and squeezed at my breasts hard enough that I cried out. The next moment he was flying backward. He slammed against the armoire on the far side of the room, breaking it with a loud crack
.
    I crouched and turned to Markus. His eyes were wide, the letter opener clutched so tight in his hand his knuckles were white. I didn’t wait for his attack. I sent him backward so hard and fast that when he hit the door it broke from its hinges
.
    Then Malcolm was back, looming over me. He stood just far enough away that I couldn’t reach him without stepping closer. His power bit along my skin, reminding me how much stronger he was becoming. I wouldn’t be able to fling him across the room again. His eyes were dark and his thoughts swirled with images of what he wanted to do to me. He smiled and wiped the blood trickling from his mouth with a piece of cloth. A piece of my shirt. I suddenly felt the sting of scratches across my chest where he had clung to my nightshirt when I sent him flying. Shit. This was all foreplay to him
.
    Suddenly the bedroom door shattered. We both jumped. I shielded myself from the debris then was instantly pinned against the wall by an invisible force. From the corner of my eye, I could see Malcolm facing the door, standing at attention
.
    “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Father roared from the bedroom door. He came into the room, stepping over Markus as if he were a stain on the floor. A frustrated glint twinkled in Malcolm’s eye. He wouldn’t get to finish his game, but at least I’d be punished for his fun
.
    I closed my eyes as Father moved across the room. A slap against Malcolm’s face made me flinch. Then his hot breath was on me. The muscles around my ribcage clenched as if they knew they’d never get the chance to heal before being broken again
.
    “Looking for attention again, Magnolia?” he hissed, spittle hitting my cheek as he spoke. “Well, I can give you all the attention you need.”
    I shook myself back into the farmhouse’s kitchen. My pulse slowed and I took another drink. Thirteen had wanted me to have freedom here, but until this moment, I hadn’t really known what that meant. He didn’t want me running all over town by myself—he was still too worried about my safety for that—but he wanted me to feel the freedom of not being on guard every minute of every day.
    Those people from the meeting today didn’t think like my brothers. I realized now that I had expected them to. In their thoughts I hadn’t found any of the malice or deep hatred that coated Malcolm’s mind. Or the fear and anger that