Chapter 7: Marked

Zara arrived at the coffee shop before nine.

Morning traffic moved slowly along Upper Street, and the smell of roasted coffee followed her through the door. A waiter looked up, noticed the tension in her face... then returned to arranging cups behind the counter.

Adisa was already there.

He sat in the far corner, with a clear view of the entrance. A half-finished cup rested in front of him. When Zara approached, he straightened slightly—but did not smile.

She sat opposite him without removing her coat.

“You said you know what my result means,” she said.

“I do.”

“Then tell me.”

Adisa looked at her for a moment.

“I had the same result.”

Zara stopped breathing—for a second.

“My ceremony was eleven years ago,” he continued. “The Abuja register showed nothing. They called me Null... and asked me to leave.”

“Null...?”

“Empty. Powerless. A mistake.”

His voice stayed calm, but his fingers tightened around the cup.

“They were wrong about me,” he said. “And they are wrong about you.”

The coffee inside his cup began to turn—slowly.

No spoon touched it.

Zara watched the liquid form a perfect circle.

Before she could speak, a loud crash came from the counter!

An old man had fallen from his chair.

His wife screamed—and dropped to her knees. Customers moved back, knocking into tables. Someone shouted for an ambulance!

Zara stood.

For one second, she saw more than the man’s body.

A black shape sat on his chest.

Its arms were too long. Its fingers were buried inside him—pulling a thin silver light from his heart.

His spirit.

Zara moved toward him.

Adisa caught her wrist.

“Wait!”

“He is dying!”

“You do not know what that thing is!”

The shape turned toward her.

It had no eyes... but Zara felt it looking directly at her.

He belongs to us now.

She pulled free from Adisa and knelt beside the man.

His wife was crying.

“Please...” the woman said. “Please help him!”

Zara placed one hand on his chest.

Portrait of a Lady rose sharply from her skin. Rose, incense and smoke filled the room.

The dark thing screamed!

People covered their ears, though none of them seemed to know why.

Zara looked at the spirit.

“No.”

Light burst from her palm!

The creature tore away from the man—and fled through the wall.

The old man gasped!

His wife began to sob with relief.

Adisa pulled Zara outside before anyone could question her.

“That was not death,” he said.

“What was it?!”

“A collector... a spirit that steals lives before their time.”

Zara looked down.

A black circle had appeared on her wrist.

Three lines cut through it.

Adisa’s face changed.

“It has marked you.”

“For what...?”

He looked back at the coffee shop.

“To tell the others that you are awake.”