Caitlin

::Chapter 5::

His name was Marcus. Marcus DiSanto…my mentor, my friend, the man who would change my life. For better or for worse, I still wasn’t sure of that fact. In a world of lies, he was my truth. “I will always give you an honest and complete answer, Caitlin,” he once told me. And, for once, I knew that I would always know the truth from him.

He taught me many things. Not so much at first. It was mostly just technical stuff, like, how to call upon your power and things like that. We had never tried any of it yet, but I was ready. I knew I was ready. Under his tutelage, I felt that I was finally ready to do the real thing, and not just read about.

Of course, reading about it held its own advantages: you didn’t have to get down and dirty doing the real thing. But I was ready for the real thing. I was overly confident and I knew that I could do it on my own.

“Marcus, I think I’m ready,” I told him once, closing one of the books that he had given me to study. I had been coming and going from this place for a few weeks now, mostly at night after work, and I felt like I had gotten to know the once mysterious man, somewhat. He was a grouch, but sometimes, I would catch him in a faraway gaze, like he was thinking of something or someone…

Anytime I would ask him a question, he’d answer with another question. That usually irritated me, especially if I was trying to find something out about him. He always stood close to me. When we would talk, he would be directly in front of me, staring intently as he always did. It was unnerving, but I sort of welcomed the human contact.

It had been a while since I’d been close to anyone but Lucas. Marcus rarely smiled, and when he did, it was more of a smirk than anything. It always seemed like he was trying to hide his bad eye from me. Whenever we were together, he would turn his face to the left to turn his bad side away from me. It never bothered me, the scar. I thought it added to his mystique. It made him who he is, however brooding and dark that might be.

“You think, do you,” he answered my statement with a quirk of his eyebrows, regarding me as he leaned back against one of the bookcases of the library. We had moved into the library after our first encounter where I had shattered the windows of the sitting room. Figuring that the room was out of commission for the time being, we began my studies in the library on the other side of the staircase.
“Yes, I do,” I replied, gazing up at him from my seat on the floor. A few strands of his dark hair had come free from the tight knot at the back of his head and fell across his face contrasting against the pale color of his skin. He nodded his agreement and told me to go ahead and try.

It would be easy, I thought, preparing myself. Ok, all I had to do was do what the books said. I closed my eyes, concentrated everything I had on calling upon whatever power I had in my body, and then…nothing. I didn’t understand, I did exactly what the book had said, why hadn’t it worked?

I looked up at Marcus, where he stood, still leaning with one foot braced upon the bookcase behind him, his one arm crossed menacingly across his chest as he rubbed his eyes with his free hand.

“You could help me, you know,” I said, irritated.

“And what would be the point in that, dear Caitlin.” I hated when he said my name like that. /Dear Caitlin/… he said it as if I were a child.

“Well…you know, it would help me to better understand how to do it on my own…you know.” I had stood up by this time and had made my way over to him, crossing my own arms over my chest. “Haven’t you heard of showing and not telling? It’s a much better approach to the whole teaching thing.”

He smirked at me, his one good eye laced with amusement. “I’m glad you think this is funny,” I stormed, turning my back to him and starting to walk away. He caught my arm in his strong hands before I got too far.

“Give me you hands,” he said, his voice still filled with light laughter as he took both of my hands into his. “Now, concentrate…feel the power coursing through your veins, gathering in your hands.” His voice had turned soft, almost mesmerizing as he spoke his instructions, and I could feel fire flowing through my entire body as it made its central appearance in the form of a flame sitting proudly in the middle of my upturned hands.

I smiled lightly as I looked down into the orange blaze, amazed that I had that kind of power inside of me. I barely noticed that he still held my hands until I looked up into his face. There was an expression there that I couldn’t place…one that I had not seen before upon his features…a look that was meant for only me.

I let the flame die from my hands as I dropped my gaze, embarrassed that I had caught him in what, I thought, was an intimate moment with his thoughts. I felt a finger lifting my chin and I raised my eyes to look at him once more. His facial expression was so soft and so tender that I caught myself blushing. We were so close that we very nearly shared the same breath, and I could feel my heart beating wildly against my ribcage.

“You did it,” he said softly and simply, as if those three words said everything. But they said nothing at all. They said nothing about the expression that he held on his face, or the fluttering of my heart as he gazed at me.

All too soon, he dropped my hands and my gaze and stepped away turning his back towards me. “I didn’t do that,” I said, in response to him. “You did.”

“No, I merely helped you. Fire is not my element…it’s yours.”

“When will I be able to do it on my own?”

“It takes time, Caitlin.” He never called me Cate. He insisted on using my full name, saying that it was disrespectful to call me anything but by birth name, even though I told him it was all right. He was just weird like that. Gorgeous, but weird.

--

“Did you know my father?”

He seemed startled as he gazed up from his readings to search my face. I had my eyes downcast, pretending to be focused on my own readings. I had to know because he had always known so much more about my own family than myself.

“I did,” he answered softly.

“And?”

“And nothing.” His voice had gotten dangerously deeper when he said nothing.

“Do-Do you think he’s still alive? Is there even a remote possibility?” I was grasping at everything and nothing, hoping that he might have been.

“What did your mother tell you about what happened?” Again, answering with another question.

“She said he just disappeared once day…” Even in my ears it sounded foolish, but I needed to believe something.

He said nothing for a moment, taking that moment to lean back in his chair, looking at me thoughtfully. “You will learn the truth soon enough, Caitlin.”

“Why not now?” I was getting angry now. He had said that he would always answer me truthfully, and yet, now, I felt like he was dodging the question.

“Now is not the time. You will learn the truth when you’re ready to learn the truth.”

My mentor, ever the practical one, even when I wasn’t. It disturbed me that he wouldn’t tell me. But, like he said, I would learn soon enough.