Marcus From Deadly Class Novels & Stories

Elena said sharply. Marcus shrugged. “I rested.” “You were unconscious.” “Same thing.” He moved toward the table slowly but stubbornly. His eyes scanned the screens. Five profiles, five enemies. Marcus exhaled through his nose. “Well,” he said. “That’s a problem.” I leaned back in my chair. “Understatement.” Marcus pointed toward the images. “So that’s the council.” “Yes.” “And we’re planning to kill them.” Damian answered calmly. “Yes.” Marcus gave a tired nod. “Good.”

But it was the person standing behind him that made the blood freeze in my veins. Marcus. He was supposed to be dead. Dante had said he dealt with him at the airfield. But there he was, his eyes burning with a manic, vengeful light. "Hello, little brother," Marcus’s voice crackled through the speakers. "I hope you’re enjoying your new life as the Butcher’s pet. Did he give you a nice collar? Does he let you sleep at the foot of the bed?"

BANG! Two precise shots—straight to the head. The attackers dropped, lifeless. Marcus gasped for air, his vision blurry from the blood loss. Then he saw him. A man standing in the shadows, dressed in a long black coat. As he stepped forward, the dim club lights illuminated his face. Marcus’ breath caught. "What the fuck…?" His mind raced as he recognized the man. Marvin. Or as the world once knew him—Cassandra’s father. Marcus tried to speak, but Marvin simply shook his head.

They were participants in the Death Game. As Marcus stepped into the dim light of the pen, the heavy gate locking behind him, the men fell silent. They stared at the newcomer. Marcus didn't look terrified. He didn't look broken. He stood tall, his broad shoulders squared, his hands wrapped in faded athletic tape. He looked like a monolith carved out of the dark. A grizzled older man with a jagged scar across his jaw approached the bars of his cage. He looked at Marcus’s taped fists and the heavy, unreadable expression on his face.

When the door clicked shut, Marcus’s eyes locked onto hers. "You saw him too," he said. She nodded. He took a step closer. "Lorenzo." Again, she nodded. Marcus didn’t speak for a long moment. Instead, he walked to the liquor cabinet and poured a glass of whiskey. He didn’t drink it. Just held it, like it might steady his hands. "I should kill him," he said quietly. Raven’s breath caught. "He’s not—" "He is," Marcus interrupted, turning toward her. "He’s not the man you knew anymore. That man died when he walked through the gates today with a gun aimed at my family."

His body was stiff as he sat next to me in the back seat, his hand tightly holding mine. "To introduce myself properly," Marcus replied. The speakerphone made his voice sound hollow, but the family resemblance in his tone was undeniable. "You see, you just defeated my partner, Vincent Moretti. While I appreciate the irony—since I was already planning to eliminate him myself—I do have some feelings about how things went down." "Vincent isn't dead," I spoke up, leaning closer to the phone. "Not yet." "He will be soon enough," Marcus said smoothly. "And in the meantime, I would like to make you an offer."

Avery called out in surprise, not expecting to suddenly hear his voice. "Where are you Avery? What's going on?" He asked her. She hiccuped, trying to stop her tears; "We were on our way back from the hospital when... when... Marcus, he's dead! Hector's dead!" She screamed in fear through Mindlink. Marcus felt conniption gripped him. The worst he feared had already happened. One of his best warriors his dead and Avery is still out there alone without anyone to care for her. He shouldn't be here. He should do something, immediately!

"I want to know exactly who sent them, though I suspect we already know the answer well enough." "Silver blades, professional gear, no identifying marks," Silas confirmed. "Precisely the kind of men gold buys when someone wants a killing done without a trail leading back to them." Elena looked down at the fallen archer's face, slack now in death, a stranger who'd nearly ended everything with a single well-placed arrow, and felt the old, familiar grief settle into something harder, more resolute than she'd carried even after learning Dane's name. "Marcus sent them," she said quietly. "He knows I'm alive now, beyond any doubt. Whatever patience he was managing before tonight, it's finished."

I nodded and walked over to Mason. “That is Alpha Maverick and his sister Scarlet.” I said to him. The name Scarlet tasted like sweet honey on my tongue. It rolled off so smoothly. Just looking at her picture, she was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Perfect figure, long dark hair that I could already imagine twisting my fingers through as I pulled her head back exposing her neck to me. Just that had my dick twitching. “That body…” Mason said quietly. He connected the dots. “You can’t kill her!” He whispered to me urgently.

Continuous Torture. “No, i…. I...i don't want to die.” i managed to say, still struggling to catch my breath. “Good, because i only grant death to people who don't want to live anymore.” he said grabbing my neck. “Alpha Marcus, she is here. Ella is here?” I didn't recognize the voice but he immediately let go of his grip on my neck. Any minute longer and i think i would have died.