Black Scar Read Online Free Page B

and total wreckage.
    The right side of
his face resembled a three-kilogram tray of raw hamburger. It began just above
his eyebrow, of which only a small tuft of black hair remained. The dark, empty
hole where his eye used to be looked horrific. Deep, raw ridges of red, mottled
skin were held together with stitches from his empty eye socket to just above
his lips. His nose appeared to be more or less intact, though part of the
nostril was missing and he could see a small section of bone exposed near the
top of his nose. A tiny chunk of skin was absent, as if a sharp claw had
removed it cleanly.
    He resembled a
fucking monster.
    Marcus roared in
agony then sent the mirror sailing across room where it smashed to bits against
the wall. His arm flailed about wildly. Brennan sprinted to the bed and held
him down.
    “Calm, Marcus. Be
still,” Logan whispered.
    Her voice
immediately washed a wave of tranquil peace over him.
    He lay still, but
Brennan continued to hold him down. Logan spread her fingers and moved her hand
across his body like McCoy again. Marcus’s breathing slowed, his eye focused on
her.
    “Has the face
improved since you last changed the bandages?” His voice was raw, but calmer.
    She did not look
at him. “No, lad, I canna see any improvement.”
    His heart sank.
He knew it. Inwardly, he wanted to sob his fucking heart out while another part
of him wanted to tear the room apart.
    Logan’s hand
moved up toward his damaged face. She closed her eyes and concentrated. Marcus
glanced at Brennan, and he seemed as surprised as he by what he observed.
Rolling warmth entered his body and moved upward toward his nose.
    What in the fuck is she doing?
    Logan gasped all
of the sudden and her eyes snapped open. Lowering her hand, her shoulders
slumped forward. Marcus touched the right side of his nose. The very tiny chunk
of skin had miraculously been regenerated.
    “Can you do this
and repair my entire face?”
    She shook her
head. “No, I canna. As it is just repairing that small piece of skin has
drained me. Brennan, can you help me back to my room? Could you bandage
Marcus’s face as well?”
    A spark of worry
flickered inside Marcus. She sounded weak, exhausted, and her skin looked even
paler if that were possible. Brennan left his side and moved to Logan’s. She
leaned on Brennan’s broad shoulder and let him lead her from the room.
    What kind of
damned power or skills did Logan possess? He never heard of a Faepyre, what the
hell was she? Weren’t Faes mythical creatures like fairies or pixies or
whatever the fuck?
    A few minutes
passed, and Brennan entered the bedroom. He gathered the items on the tray and
placed them on the table. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he exhaled, and began
to bandage Marcus’s face.
    “Is Logan all
right?”
    “She is very
weak. She fell asleep right away.”
    “Ever heard of a
Faepyre, Brennan?”
    The man frowned
as he continued his duty. “No, but there are many in the Shadow World and
beyond I am not aware of. Everyone keeps to themselves. It is how we exist and
thrive. I have heard of the MacNeils of Cape Breton, they are actually an
affiliate of Deegan’s Clan, a branch of the Blackthorne tree. It is wise not to
ask too many questions.”
    “Are you telling
me to shut my mouth, Brennan?’
    “Not at all, lad.
These questions are best phrased to your Formator.”
    Marcus inhaled
again. “Can you smell that? Vanilla, spices—and more.”
    Brennan halted
his bandaging and inhaled. “Sorry, lad, I don’t smell a blessed thing.”
    ****
    Oh, she was
utterly stupid. Logan lay on her bed.   Her body throbbed with fatigue and weariness. She should have never
attempted regeneration. Now her powers would be drained for at least a day.
Faepyres were expert at hiding their emotions, hiding them so deep other
Vampires could not sense them no matter how powerful they were. Doing so became
a form of protection. But she had been so moved by Marcus’s agonizing reaction
to his