Chapter 9 — The Mark Awakens
Kevin didn't sleep that night.
When dawn broke, he was still sitting on the edge of his bed, staring blankly at the floor.
Lilith.
His grandmother.
The first woman. The mother of Cain. The mother of monsters.
And him — the son of Cain.
Her words churned in his head like a storm he couldn't escape: The blood son of Cain. The heir he thought he would never have. The only child born of his mark.
He went through the motions of his day, hoping the world would still feel normal if he just pretended it was.
He showered. Got dressed. Walked the familiar streets toward the Hollow Oak Bar.
It felt wrong.
Everywhere he looked, he felt watched. The faint hum of electricity in the streetlamps seemed too loud. Shadows stretched too far. People's conversations sounded strange, distant.
He forced himself to step through the bar's doors. To tie his apron. To pretend.
Marla greeted him with her usual smirk, but even her teasing sounded muffled, like it came from underwater.
He just nodded and got to work.
The first few hours passed in a haze — cleaning glasses, pouring drinks, taking cash.
And then… she was there.
Lilith.
Sitting at the same stool at the end of the bar as before.
Her dark green trench coat draped around her like a second skin. Her sharp green eyes glittering like knives in candlelight.
He froze mid-pour.
She smiled faintly at him.
"Hello, grandson," she said softly.
Kevin's heart thudded painfully in his chest. He set down the glass and stormed toward her.
"What are you doing here?" he hissed under his breath.
"Watching you," she said, her tone calm. "Like I've always done."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, and her voice dropped lower.
"You carry the mark of your father. It's already waking. Soon… it will manifest. And then you will see for yourself."
Kevin shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Her smile turned cold.
"You will suffer," she said simply. "The mark of Cain brings nothing but misfortune. That's what it was designed to do. A curse carried through your blood."
Her words cut deeper than he wanted to admit. Something sharp twisted in his chest — fear, anger, shame.
He backed away from her, shaking his head again, muttering, "No. No, I'm not— I'm not him—"
He dropped his towel and stormed out into the night air, his heart hammering.
The streets felt even darker than usual. The streetlamps flickered as he passed them.
He didn't see Maya until she was right in front of him.
She stepped out of the alley like she'd been waiting. Her dark hair hung loose, her eyes sharper than he'd ever seen them.
"Where were you?" she demanded.
Kevin stopped in his tracks. "What? What are you talking about?"
Her expression hardened. "You shouldn't have gone there. You weren't supposed to know yet."
He stared at her, stunned. "What the hell are you talking about, Maya?"
But her hands rose — and the air between them shimmered like heat on asphalt.
"I wish it wasn't like this," she murmured, almost to herself.
And then she lunged at him, her fingers curling as though grasping something invisible.
Kevin gasped as an unseen force clamped down on his chest, driving him to his knees. His breath came in sharp, shallow bursts as the pressure grew tighter and tighter.
"Maya—" he choked. "Stop—"
Her voice cracked.
"I can't. I'm sorry. You were never supposed to—"
A blur of motion to his left cut her off.
One of the three from before — the guy — slammed into her, knocking her back.
The other two — the two girls — flanked Kevin, dragging him to his feet.
"Move!" one of them barked.
Kevin stumbled as they hauled him away, his breath ragged, his mind spinning.
Behind them, Maya's voice rose in a sharp, anguished cry.
"You don't understand! He can't be allowed—"
But her words were drowned out by the sound of running footsteps, the rush of wind in his ears, and the chaos of his own hammering heartbeat.
The last thing Kevin saw before they dragged him into the shadows was Lilith.
Standing at the end of the street.
Watching.