True Blood Marcus Novels & Stories

“Just let him stand next to you and breathe menacingly while crossing his arms.” I couldn’t help it. I laughed. It slipped out of me, a small, reluctant sound that tasted like exhaustion and sadness. “Where am I supposed to find someone like that? You think they sell those on I*******m now?” “Funny you should ask,” she said, her grin growing wicked. “Marcus has this friend. He’s single. Works private security. Ex-military or something like that. Quiet, serious, very tall, very built. The kind of man you look at and think, yeah, he’s definitely carried bodies before.”

"But noted." "Is that all you wanted? My opinion?" "No." Marcus stood, walking to a cabinet against the wall. He poured himself a glass of whiskey, then offered one to me. I shook my head. He shrugged and drank. "We wanted to see you. In person. To assess." "Assess what?" "Whether the rumors are true." He set down his glass. "About you and your blood moon bride. I hear the bond is must stronger than a mating bond. Is that true? Has your newfound love and affection for her made you weak?"

With trembling hands ,he instantly moved the sheet away to look exactly what was wrong with her but his sight meet with her naked skin which had started turning blue at the most near the wound he left yesterday , his eyes widen and guilt surface up as his face lost all its color to the extent that it hurt his heart with a peircing pain . Marcus hurriedly moved down only to fall on the floor suffering from the pain. Subconsciously he looked down at himself and saw his whole body even was decorated with torchered marks all over. The sudden flash of acknowledgment surface in his eyes, as he glanced at the figure lying on the bed and once back on his body. He remember the words of the super

His hands are pressed against his stomach, dark blood leaking through his fingers and staining the snow that has drifted in through a ventilation shaft above. "It’s not dead," Marcus whispers, his teeth stained pink. He looks up at me, his eyes wide and completely vacant. The purple tracks on his arms are darker now, almost black under the skin. "The transition... it’s beautiful, Nora. I can see the cabin. I can see the ice. I can see the day I met your father." He smiles, but there is no life behind it. His pupils are dilating, swallowing the gray of his eyes until they look like two holes in a sheet of white paper.

Just grabs my hips and slams inside – burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. "Fuck,” he groans. “She’s even wetter now. All that cum making her sloppy.” He fucks me fast. Desperate. Like he’s been waiting for this, building up to it while he watched the others use me. “Tell me about Marcus,” he demands, pounding into me. “What did he look like?” “Tall – ” I gasp with each thrust. “Dark hair – nice suit – ” “What did he promise you?” “That he’d – oh god – that he’d introduce me to people – important people – ”

Black liquid, blood, soaked the dirty carpet; some of them had splashed onto her face and her khaki coat. “He’s so hot, even in death,” Marc said from her side. His name was Marcus, but everyone called him Marc. “It’s an incubus. Of course, it’s good-looking. Stop talking like that about a dead body. Disgusting.” Danica shut him up. Her coat stripped off, she wiped the smelly blood off of her face with it.

I don’t know if this is something Marcus is doing to me to get what he wants, either way, I need to get myself and this man out of here before something does happen. “Almost perfect,” Marcus said grabbing me around my throat. “It's almost sad to see you go, but I am not going to feel bad about killing the last of her family that can do anything.” “You won't be doing anything.” I snapped. “I am going to figure out how to get away from you, get my mate out of here if he is my mate,” I said looking down at the fraile but buffy guy. There is something about him but I don’t know what it is. Maybe this is a trick and he might be part of it, even though he didn’t look too good for being part of the

She looked at him. "Yes," she said. "Speak to him." A beat. "He'll like you." Something warm moved through his expression unguarded, genuine, the kind that appeared when he was not performing anything. "I hope so." Marcus knocked and entered before the moment could extend further. He crossed the room and placed a photograph on the desk without a preamble. Mara looked at the face. Not from the council. Not from any lycan record she had reviewed. From the hospital. From the morning she was born.

“Midnight’s Mark hasn’t appeared in over a hundred years.” “I didn’t do anything,” I blurted out. “I didn’t ask for this. I just went to the ceremony and then” I touched my neck. “This happened.” “I know,” he said kindly. “And I know my Beta’s reaction was painful.” I laughed bitterly. “That’s one way to describe it. He made it clear I disgust him.” “Darius is… complicated,” Marcus said carefully. “May I tell you something you might not know?” I nodded.

Cassandra then turn her vision out of Marcus. "D-Do you really love me Marcus?..." "Or you're just using me?" Cassandra look at Marcus who's now seems surprised because of her questions. "Is it still E-Ertha?" She asked and tears started rolling again. When Marcus hear this name, his chest felt tight as if something broke inside him. Suddenly he couldn't breathe properly and he fell to his knees. He felt like he just been shot by an arrow. He tried to calm down and control his breathing, but the pain won't leave his body. It's the thought again of Ertha being killed by Cassandra's packs and being tortured by his friend Conan.