Marks

Chapter 3

The flashbacks began in her mind as she heard the other line drop. Kristen's smile broke though her happiness for her sister remained in the caverns of her heart. She could remember the day their good for nothing mother brought Emma home. She had been such a small, fragile thing. At only seven pounds Kristen could see that Emma had some fight to her, but it was the eye roll that won Kris over.
Her sister's attitude had stolen Kris's heart, ravaging it with new and unconditional love until all at once it crashed down. Kristen was the first born, she had ten more years on her sister and she knew what their parents were like. She knew how disappointing they were.
Back then, Kristen was only about ten years old, but even at the age of ten she found the need to protect her baby sister overwhelmingly natural. She smiled at the name on her phone's screen, her thumb dragging over it affectionately. A memory beginning to dig its way out of the depths of her mind.



She hasn't slept in days, not since Emma had been brought home. The doctors called it colic which she defined as some unimaginable force that made babies turn into writhing demons for no reason. Kris refused to believe that it was colic, she knew it was something in the air. She herself could feel the unhappiness in the air, she shuddered to imagine what a new baby could feel.
Judging by her sisters shrill shrieks, her suspicions were confirmed. She padded her way down the hall of their house, the back of her hand rubbing the sleep from her eyes as her body woke up. Her sisters room light was on, casting a silhouette on the wall of a moving figure.

"Shh, shut up!" Her mother whispered harshly. Kristen's movements faltered for a moment, listening as her sisters cries were suddenly muffled. Kristen gasped, bolting the rest of the way down the hall. Her fingers caught the doorway, swinging her turn and throwing her into her sisters room. To her horror their mother stood in front of her Emma's crib, a pillow gripped tightly in her hands and pressed onto Emma. Her mother's hair was ravenous, her dark hair tangled and messy from restless sleep and her eyes an almost blood shot red. She seemed to be in a trance, not noticing her oldest daughter coming at her until she felt the rough impact on her ribs. Kris stood up, glaring at her mother and immediately removing the pillow from the crying baby whose voice was hoarse and weak. She picked Emma up, cradling her tightly to her body before running out of the room. "Kris! Kris I'm so sorry!"

Kris ignored her mothers screams, not caring about anything but getting her infant sister to safety. Tears sprang to life in her eyes, her mother hadn't been the best mother in the world but she never expected her to do this. Her heart was breaking, betrayal creeping up on her as she rounded into her room, slamming and locking the door behind her. She slid to the floor, hugging her sister who had quieted down quite considerably. Why couldn't her mother be this patient? Didn't she know that this doesn't last forever? Tears spilled out, rolling down her cheeks as she whispered soothing words of encouragement and love into her baby sisters ear. Slowly her cries drifted away, her eyes closed and her plump lips puckered. Sleep had claimed her.


     The thought of her sister finally finding her Twin Flame in this lifetime filled her with a deep joy that surprised even her. Like Emma she was born with no mark. She had chosen her mate eight years ago when he had come over with a mutual friend. That day had been particularly hot, and still despite the hardship between them she found joy in that day.
She stared down at the dinner she was making, inspecting the honey thick sauce that coated the chicken fully. The scent wafting upwards was sweet but spicy and she smiled in triumph. Another dinner prepared and successful.

Barry had been working undercover all day, following the Strom girl had proven to be an easy feat. He had first seen her driving to her work. Admittedly she had looked just as reluctant as she had probably felt, her hair was perfectly brushed and tied back tightly, her hands skillfully gripped the wheel. She had seen him, there was no doubt about that, especially since they had made short eye contact. Though he had seen a better glimpse of them in the Diner where she had served him his cup of coffee.

     "Hey there, newbie," She had teased playfully. Her ember colored eyes blazed with life, their warm depths attempting to sucker him in and cover him with her charm. He imagined it worked on a lot of her customers as it had almost worked on him. He could tell behind all that forces energy was a tired woman just trying to make it through the day. She was probably the type to curse him internally for waiting until closing time to stop stop in for a cup of coffee. She may have had the voice of an extrovert but her soul screamed introvert, he imagined she was probably the type to eat the cookie dough instead of baking cookies.
Still, he had played along with her game, catching himself whenever he wanted to stare at the silky strands of hair that escaped their captivity. He chalked that lack of focus up to little sleep. His department had been chasing this case for years and they finally got one step ahead of the bastard.
     Everyone had heard of the Unmarked killer, the predator of those who had the misfortune of being born with no soul mark. He had slaughtered dozens of unmarked steadily over different state lines until finally the case got serious enough for the FBI to be dragged into it. Barry had tracked him, following the patterns until he finally got a step ahead. He'd traced him all the way back to this small town, to that specific girl. Emma Strom, his next victim and a single mother of one. He had been there in the diner. He had ordered a burger and onion rings and was stealthily watching her as she took Barry's order. The stalking process had begun. Barry had to get closer to the girl, but how?
     Barry sighed heavily, sliding his room key into its slot so he could gain access to his hotel room. He'd already checked it for bed bugs and the like and had set his equipment up to where he liked it. He had placed the privacy sign on the door so that way his work space wouldn't be disturbed. He shuffled inside, throwing his room key on the table and walked over to the dresser, stripping himself of his jacket and folding it neatly before placing it on the top of it. Above the dresser was a large mirror, bordered with cherry wood. It was clean, no spots showed which gave him an undistorted view of his reflection. His soul mark was embroidered on his neck with handwriting that was both bubbly but elegant with an edge. It had definitely been feminine, the words captivating.
     It was always you.
He put his hand over his mark, almost feeling her through it. He had hoped to find her by now, but still no luck. All he could do was search.