Page 6 of Bride By Initiation

Zara freezes, then slowly meets my eyes. "Stay out of my business, Sean."

I refocus on the man. I hold out my hand. "Sean O'Malley. I don't think I've met you before. Who are you?"

He lifts his chin, squares his shoulders, and shakes my hand. He confidently announces, "John Smith."

"John Smith?" I repeat.

"Yep."

I arch my eyebrows at Zara.

"What?" she questions.

"John Smith?"

"What's wrong with his name?"

I grunt. "He just happens to have one of the most common names on earth?"

He chimes in, "Can't help it, man. Anyway, I'm late for another event. We'll talk later, Zara."

Like hell you will.

"Let me walk you out," I offer, but it's not a choice. I put my hand on his back to steer him toward the door.

"Sean," Zara snaps.

I turn my head and, in my sternest voice, warn, "You stay here."

She opens her mouth but immediately snaps it shut again, glaring at me.

I lead whoever this guy is through the pub door and into the cold. As soon as we get outside, I demand, "Who are you? And don't tell me John Smith."

He doesn't flinch, and something tells me he's not one to scare easily. It makes me want to keep him away from Zara even more. He replies, "Can't help it if my name is John Smith."

"Bullshit."

"Prove me wrong," he challenges, crossing his arms over his chest, displaying a mark near his thumb and index finger.

My gut clenches, as if I've been punched hard. I stare harder at his hand. It's not a tattoo but a branded skull. It has flowers and feathers around it, or maybe it's leaves. The nose is an upside-down heart. Something drips from the skull's chin, almost like it's blood, but there's no color to it, just the dead skin from whatever hot metal singed him.

For some reason, it seems feminine yet masculine at the same time. I peer closer, knowing I've seen it before. I rack my mind to figure out where, but I can't remember. It's too far away in my memories, but the sense of déjà vu is too strong to deny that this isn't the first time I'm seeing it.

Another chill runs down my spine when he lowers his voice and says, "You see something you like, Sean?"

I tear my eyes off the mark, threatening, "I'm only going to ask one more time. Who are you?"

"I told you. I'm John Smith," he answers with a cocky grin.

It's a rare occasion when I feel fear for myself, but it erupts within me, mixing with anger. And the overwhelming thought this guy is no good and needs to stay away from Zara consumes me. Whoever he is, there's evil resonating from him. I don't know how or why she's involved with him, but I need to find out.

I seethe, "What do you want with Zara?"

"That's between her, me, and The Underworld," he asserts.

"What's The Underworld?"

He wags his finger in my face. "You wish you knew, don't you?"

---