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13 - Harmless Flirtations

Marcus saw the look of alarm in Ysabelle's face. He had been grilling her with questions last night and he knew that she wouldn't want to be in that same position again. The last thing he would want to do to her was to ask about her family tree history, but her slip-of-the-tongue really did increase his curiosity. If indeed she was not Mehak's aunt, then how was she related to the Rogratiatto Family?

"Uhmm, you didn't take your photo Father. Aunt Regina handed it back to me in my room this morning, " Ysabelle stated, seemingly trying to drop the subject and divert his focus.

And it did, successfully.

'Goodness! Of all the memories she could revive, she had to pick that one?!' his mind shouted.

Marcus gently nodded and crossed his arms on his chest. "Yes, I can always get it when I come back in the mansion. During that time, I want for you to give it to me, not anyone else."

She cleared her throat and intentionally disregarded the cryptic message Marcus was sending her.

"I don't think you'll be able to set foot on Uncle's house again Father, " said she, voicing what was already an obvious possibility. She turned to the side and mimicked the position he was in, facing the spacious foyer instead of looking at each other.

Marcus had to snicker a little.

"Because he is of different beliefs? I do know he doesn't like priests very much, " he pointed out.

Ysabelle had to debate on that in her mind. 'No. Because he doesn't want you to know of my nature as an immortal and how the brotherhood keeps that secret safe.'

Fleetingly, she shook her head, "I guess...you can say that, " and answered out loud, hiding the real reason.

This time, Marcus dropped his arms and turned to face her, his smile that of a man who had just concocted another surefire plan. "Hmmm... Let us bet then, Ms. Ysabelle, " he stated, looking at her and assessing her anxiety.

But he only noticed a cunning smile from her.

"What makes you think I'll accept it or that you will win Father?" she asked, putting a hand on her waist.

Marcus stepped closer and looked at her directly, not even once blinking.

"Because, my dear Ms. Ysabelle, I just feel it, " he said, the smugness evident on his face.

It was a clash of confidence. Each one with expectations of winning.

"You are a weird priest, you know that right?" Ysabelle then broke the tension, dragging her eyes away from his heated stare.

Marcus had to smile wildly this time. "Weird? Hmm... I guess you are the first to say that to me. I am normally called as the Glutton Marcus."

Stifling a laugh, she arched her brows back at him.

"Glutton?" she clarified, but then her mind brought her to remember how he was too familiar with the Rogratiatto Family dining table. Though he hid it perfectly, she was able to see how much he loved eating the dishes that her Aunt Regina had prepared during their stay.

"Oh, " she uttered, "I guess your colleagues are right. You are notorious with food."

It was unintentional, but Marcus chuckled with her statement. "I will take that as a compliment, Ms. Ysabelle. Not at all pricked by it."

They both smiled at each other with genuineness and warmth. It was as if the tension awhile ago had gone down and that they were just two people now, sharing differences and similarities.

"So...the bed— errr... bet. Are you in or not?" Marcus then reminded, watching her with anticipation hoping she didn't caught the accidental wrong word.

Ysabelle was the one who furrowed her brows then. "You don't look like a gambler to me Father, " she said, still wary of the offer. "But— oh, wait, priests aren't supposed to gamble, right?"

In quick response, Marcus shook his head and grinned.

"Oh, no, my angel. You got it all wrong, " he started, stressing the endearment, "If it doesn't involve money, we priests can join the fun."

"Fun?" Ysabelle parroted. "Oh, yeah? Then, if our bet doesn't involve money, what is at stake for both of us?" she asked, confused. How clever of her to press her lips and lift her chin in order to hide whatever effect he had on her because of the sweet term.

"If I win, I get to ask you questions again and you would answer me honestly, " was Marcus' quick suggestion.

Again, observing her reactions, it was only a minute of pause when he noticed her withdrawing. Gone was her confidence earlier.

"I don't—I don't think that's a good idea Father, " she replied with caution. Stepping backward, Ysabelle scanned the room and found that the only remaining people from her group in the foyer were two students, her niece and a teacher. They were still talking in the front desk, but now holding with them key cards.

"Don't tell me you are backing away?" Marcus questioned, trying to draw her back in their bet. He saw her take a deep breath and looked down on the floor. She seemed to be unsure of what to say or even how to answer him.

"It's just that..." Ysabelle started in a trembling voice, "how would you know I am not lying if I answer your questions?"

"I would know, " Marcus answered, free of any hesitation or doubt.

Ysabelle waited for him to elaborate further, but after waiting in seconds without anything from him but a deep stare, she stated, "Fair enough. But then, what's in it for me?"

"Your choice, " was his quick reply.

"Hmmm..." she looked contemplative for a moment that Marcus had to metaphorically cross his fingers the whole time. "I'll have you as my photo model for a day for free of course, " she finally said with which made the latter very happy.

"Deal, " he finalized, pleased with her decision.

"And I get to ask about that arm tattoo of yours and I get to touch it again, " she added.

"Deal, " as quick as the former one, Marcus answered. It may not be what he expected for her to demand, but it was still acceptable. After all, what harm does the tattoo have on her?

"Well, that was fast, " was Ysabelle's stunned counter.

Marcus only stepped forward and grabbed her left hand. Bending slightly, he said, "That's because I am confident Ms. Ysabelle, " and kissed the tip of her forefinger as a sign that their bet was in effect.

Ysabelle scoffed and confidently announced, "Oh, but Father Marcus, so am I." She pulled the hand that he kissed and hid it at her back. "I tell you already this: You will lose because you won't be able to step foot on the Rogratiatto Mansion ever again."

A grin appeared on Marcus' lips after that and just as he was about to respond, Mehak jogged back to them and caught their attention.

"Uhmm, Father, we should go. My teacher needs to talk to Auntie Belle before the castle tour starts, " she said whist holding Ysabelle's free arm.

"Ah, yes, yes. You and your Auntie are free to go. Don't mind me at all, " Marcus stated with a sincere smile on the girl's way.

"See you later then Father!" said Mehak as she pulled her Aunt with her.

"Yes, see you later Father Marcus, " Ysabelle echoed and gave a turn-away smile.

Marcus remained in his spot as he continued staring at the group now ascending the first floor stairs. He was happy that everything turned out according to his impromptu plan, already feeling positive that he will win the bet. How will he be able to win it? That question remains to be answered, but he has this strong feeling inside him that he'll be back in that mansion in no time. Call it intuition maybe or just plain vibes from a priest.

Ysabelle, in the other hand, was doubting the strength of her words, but it was already too late, unfortunately. She wasn't a woman who jumps in a game of chance. She wasn't even a gambling type, but call her a competitive woman and that would hit the mark. It would certainly fit a definition of her being impulsive in accepting the exorcist priest's bet.

She had great faith that her Uncle and the brotherhood would not permit Marcus to return in the mansion again. But, looking at the calm confidence he had when she threatened him to lose, it made her rethink her choices.

"You look flustered Auntie Bell. Are you okay?" Mehak questioned the moment they reached an opening. They were in the north entrance of the second floor now, looking at the long hallway ahead of them.

"Yeah, I am fine, Sweet. Don't worry about me. Now, where's our room?" Ysabelle answered, bending slightly and arranging the girl's pink hat in place.

"Oh! About that! Good news for you Auntie, " Mehak started with gleaming eyes.

Ysabelle had to raise her brows then. "Why?" she asked.

"Because you get to have a room for yourself in the third floor since you're the special guest of the school tour."

"What? And how about you?"

"I am being grouped together with Sheila and Evette in the Suite Room in this floor. It's per our Principal's orders."

Ysabelle looked lost for a moment, but eventually understood the room arrangement. Apparently, class officers are supposed to stay together to plan all the activities ahead.

"I see, " she said, putting a finger in her lower lip unconsciously — the finger that Marcus had kissed earlier. "So I guess this won't be my typical tag-along tour huh?"

"Nope." Mehak popped the 'P' playfully and smiled. "You get to spend your own time touring the castle after you capture our activities, Auntie. How great is that!"

Ysabelle took the key card when Mehak handed it to her.

"Yeah, it is great!" she stated joyfully, already looking forward to capturing the details of the castle in her point-of-view.

The whole afternoon went about with Marcus posing as an unintentional audience. Why? Because wherever he went, the group of Mehak's school tour was there to enliven the place with their girlish laughter and vocal admiration of the sights. They were a bunch of teens, so it was expected that their fairy tale daydreams would be exhibited in this kind of place.

Marcus wasn't bothered by it though. Actually, he even embraced their presence, most especially Ysabelle's, who kept some distance from him the whole course of the tour and acted as if she was busy with taking the student's pictures.

The group had their dinner in the second floor restaurant while Marcus had his own alone in a sister cafe in the third floor. It was after his meal when he decided to head to his room. What he didn't expect in the hallway going there though was seeing Ysabelle standing in an open doorway with a card key in hand.

"Is this your room?" Marcus, without warning, asked, poking his head on the opening.

"Oh!" Ysabelle turned with a start. With widened eyes and a hand on her chest, she spoke in a high-pitched voice, "Father Marcus! Goodness! You scared me!"

Giving her an incredulous, playful look, he asked, "Do I look like a ghost to you?"

"Yes! When you are wearing all black!" she quickly retorted.

Marcus had to contain his laugh and glance at his black cassock at the same time.

"Oh, I apologize. I guess I indeed look like a handsome grim reaper wearing this vestment, especially in a castle like this, " he remarked, eyes glimmering under the warm chandelier light. He watched her as she busied herself rummaging on her backpack for whatever object she was looking for. "Is this your room?" he again asked, curious of the place.

"Mhmm yes, " Ysabelle nodded, showing him the card key but without looking at him, "The school admin wanted me to have my own room. They say I am a special guest and not just their photographer."

"Hmmm... that's nice."

"Why are you here by the way?" She had to ask that since it was gnawing at her bones. Taking out a bottle of mineral water, she opened its cap and drank its contents all the while waiting for his reply. When she did look at him, she couldn't stop herself from admiring how his smoky brown eyes looked like a beautiful golden hazel under the light.

"My room is just over there, " Marcus pointed, bobbing his head slightly whilst looking at the long hallway. "In Room 212."

Unconsciously, Ysabelle glanced at the number etched in her main door and bit the bottom of her lip. Guess they will be neighbors since her room number was 209.

"I—see, " was her short reply.

There was a flood of silence in between them then, each with no topic to open up, and that made the two feel awkward.

"Well then, I should get going, " Marcus stated finally after realizing his stay outside of her doorway was overdue.

"Father Marcus!" a man's voice suddenly reverberated through the hallway.

Both him and Ysabelle turned to the source of the voice in haste and saw a winded man running like crazy towards them.

"Mr. Grann, " Marcus called when the man was a few feet away from them, "what's the problem?" His face bore a frown when he noticed the man's arms and cheek with fresh scratch marks.

"It's Mr. MacMillan, Father. He is thrashing all over his bedroom!" was his panicked answer.

This got Marcus frowning even more.

"I thought you had him all tied up?" he asked, gnashing his teeth.

"I—I don't know what happened Father, but it seems he was able to cut himself free! You should exorcise him now, Father. We can't wait for all the guests to sleep! If Mr. MacMillan keeps up with his destructive tendencies, all our guests would notice it, and we can't have them scared shit running out of the castle!"

Marcus looked at Ysabelle for a moment and saw her ashen and wide eyed. "Okay, I'll go, " was his grave announcement then before he took a step.

"Wait!" Ysabelle abruptly shouted, stopping him from his tracks. Marcus whirled around to look at her, confusion drawn in his face.

"Be—be careful Father... Please, be careful, " said she, clasping her hands together and with an expression of thorough concern.

Marcus showed a bit of warm appreciation on her way and took in a long, deep breath. "I will, " he said in a calm voice, "Thank you Ms. Ysabelle."

Then he took off with Mr. Grann following behind him.

Ysabelle was left behind, touching the door frame with a shaky hand. Her immortality was only limited to healing small wounds, seeing spirits and a certain degree of angel and demon auras. She had never experienced seeing the future at all or having at least a slight vision of it. But now, she couldn't explain it but there was this foreboding feeling inside her that something bad was about to happen.

When Father Marcus arrived in the caretaker's chamber, what greeted him in the doorway was a messy sight not only because of the turn-down and destroyed pieces of furniture, but also because of the splatter of crimson blood in the floor. Two young female staff in their own state of fear gave him way to enter the room. They were sobbing continuously, putting hands on their mouths so that they wouldn't make an attention-drawing sound from any guests.

Upon stepping inside the receiving room, Marcus quickly noticed a distinguishable strong odor of ammonia mixed with the metallic odor of blood coming all the way from a closed door. Three male staff were near it. One was holding a gun, the other holding a crucifix, and the third securing the knob tightly. They exchanged brief glances and then looked at Father Marcus with hopeful eyes.

"Father, we are so glad you are here!" one man who was holding the gun exclaimed.

Marcus, feeling disgusted seeing the deadly device, scowled.

Really now? Does he really think a mere gun can stop a thrashing demon? He could kill the vessel that's a fact, but not the entity, unfortunately.

"Put that gun away, brother, " said he while passing the addled man.

The latter didn't do what Marcus ordered though and went on to keep the gun in his hand.

Marcus disregarded it and continued his way on the closed door.

"Open it, " he said and almost instantly, the third man did as told.

The man holding the crucifix retched on the spot when a gush of odorous ammonia air escaped the room. Mr. Grann, who was still tailing Marcus, rushed to support his employee and offered a handkerchief from his jacket.

"Don't open this door unless I knock on it...thrice, " said Marcus with a grim look on his face. He eyed the four men behind him and they all nodded in unison.

As the bedroom door closed, Marcus had all the intention on exorcising the low-class demon as quickly as possible. He wanted to finish it considering it would be bothering the guests if the possession pursued. Though he didn't have his exorcism paraphernalia on hand, he was confident since he memorized the verses by heart, and that these verses were enough to exorcise this insignificant demon for good.

When he looked at the possessed bloody man crouching on the ceiling though, he felt his tattooed arm spasm and the blood coursing in his veins heat up. He felt his head swirl, followed by a shooting headache enough to break a skull. Marcus clenched his teeth and dropped to the floor, evaluating what just happened. That's when he realized, albeit too late, that the damn demon inside him was itching for a kill... and that the low-class demon and the caretaker's life energy were its prime target.

"Delicious..."

Was the only word that Marcus heard in his thoughts after his consciousness blanked out and his sight darkened.

Five seconds...

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And the men inside the receiving room heard a knock from the bedroom door...thrice.

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