Marcus From Deadly Class Novels & Stories

I murmured, my thumb grazing her knuckle once before I forced myself to step back. Raine’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile as she turned back to the engine. “Pass me the rag. This carburetor is giving me trouble.” We worked side by side for nearly an hour, our occasional banter lighting the garage. She was still telling me something when the garage door banged open. Isla stormed in, her face growing paler as she advanced. “Marcus is dead,” Isla announced, wiping sweat from her brow even though the morning air was cool. “The second lieutenant who was considering flipping on Dad. He was gunned down execution-style outside his haunt. One of our guys found him.

Marcus said. "He was terrified. He wasn't mistaken." Marcus stepped closer. Kael moved between us. "Don't," Kael said. "I'm not going to hurt her." "You're not going to touch her." Marcus raised his hands. Mock surrender. "I just want to talk to the girl." "Her name is Aria. And you don't get to talk to her." Marcus's smile finally faded. His face went hard. Cold. The mask slipped, and for the first time, I saw the man underneath. The killer. The monster who had destroyed two families.

They had survived too many close calls to end like this, shot down like a dog on a dark dock. “Fuck! Fuck!!” Marcus gritted his teeth, his jaw locking tight. “Leo!” He called out again as he gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles went white, a cold promise settling deep in his chest. "I am going to kill every single one of you," Marcus whispered, his voice deadly quiet. "Every single one." He did not have time to dwell on his grief. Two mercenaries in black tactical gear stepped out from behind a stack of rusted shipping containers. They carried heavy rifles and moved with perfect, military discipline. They did not look like local mobsters. They looked like ghosts in the dark.

he mumbled. A week after. In New York, Marcus and Marina was babbling about their next activity while touring the country. "Marcus went out to buy some goods while Marina was left in his suite with Hillary. He was about to enter his car when he was hit by series of gunshots in his chest. Marcus hissed in pain. That was bolt from the blue. His body was laying helplessly in front of the supermarket. Not far away a guy wearing a black sunglasses was perching inside a luxurious car. He was beyond appeased with the scene.

As of now I've edited it out (So no, you're not going crazy if you can't find it again) I'm sorry for the mix up but please note that Marcus wasn't shot in the head (As I don't think anyone can survive being shot in the head) Thank you and please react once you see this message so that I know it's reached enough people ❤️

"The damage from containing her entity should have kept you unconscious for days." "Should have. Would have. Could have." Drake stalked forward, his presence radiating lethal intent. "But you forgot something crucial, Marcus. I have died and returned more times than you can count. Pain is just information now. Death is just a transition. And you—" his smile turned savage, "—you are just a dead man who has not stopped breathing yet." Marcus's dark magic flared defensively. "Brave words from a rogue playing at being important. You are nothing but—"

I replied, he paused for a while before speaking up. “Elder Marcus is dead!”

Tedy spat with a look of displeasure. “Oops! Did I hurt your handsome face?” Marcus grinned ridiculously. He was already prepared with his fists until he was a little wary when Tedy pulled out a gun. Which Marcus knew very well was any type of gun. The only murder weapon that hit his coworker-Kenzo's vital organs. Which made the man die on the spot without a fight. That made Marcus lose his control. He swiftly took the gun from his coat pocket. Aiming right at Tedy's head. His opponent chuckled at Marcus' undaunted attitude towards him.

Luca held Grace. Derek held Hope. Derek Jr. slept. We were a family. The four of us. And the children. The painting watched. The doorbell rang. Luca answered. A man stood there. Tall. Dark hair. No scar. He said his name was Marcus. But Marcus was dead. He smiled. He said he was the real Marcus. The one who had died was his twin. He said he had come to take what was his. Hope. He pulled out a knife.

“Don’t tell the other Elders. They’re such sissies that they may decide to cancel the Council meeting. We need to get all those members here so I can tell one way or another if the rumours of this war are true.” That, Marcus believed. His father had a way of sniffing out lies—his one true gift, and the reason Marcus had never lied to him before. He hadn’t been caught already because Alessandro had been distracted. Marcello DeLuca, the most loyal vampire to ever walk the earth. The perfect soldier. What a joke that was, now. Alessandro sighed, surveying the destruction. “I need someone to clean this up.”