Demon Marked: Shadowguard Academy Book 2 Read online

  Demon Marked

  Shadowguard Academy Book 2

  Samantha Britt

  Demon Guard © 2020 by Samantha Britt

  ASIN: B07ZYLZW6V

  Cover Design by Book Covers Artistry

  Copyright notice:

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Demon Hunted

  About the Author

  Also by Samantha Britt

  Chapter One

  The smell of rubber and sweat fills my nostrils. One scent comes from the brand-new sparring mats beneath my feet, and the other from myself. Of all the ways I’d like to spend my Friday afternoon, sparring with Logan Hendricks is not one of them.

  My mentor and I stand in the gymnasium at St. Michael’s academy, the renowned school known for churning out the best of the best Guardians for our society. The equipment around me is state of the art, but it’s not what has my focus. I don’t dare take my eyes off my opponent. The moment I do, I’m toast.

  Logan and I have been sparring for the better half of an hour, but you wouldn’t know it looking at him. While sweat rolls down the sides of my face and soaks my t-shirt, Logan isn’t even out of breath. I don’t understand it. We’ve been swinging, kicking, and dodging one another over and over again. He should show some evidence of physical exertion. Unless he’s cheating…

  My eyes briefly travel to his forearms. The tendons and muscles shift when he raises his arms, resuming his battle-ready stance, but I see no evidence he’s drawn a sigil to increase his endurance. Logan’s just in crazy good shape like all active Guardians.

  It’s annoying.

  “Again,” he commands for the tenth time today. “This time, try not to broadcast your movements.” It’s the same critique he’s given me this past week, and I’m well past the point of frustration.

  My extra training sessions with Logan started over six weeks ago. I’m a pretty good fighter, but Logan had insisted we start with the basics. We’ve gone over body positioning, how to properly throw a punch, how to counter the most direct attacks—things I’ve been doing for years. But despite my experience, Logan always manages find some aspect of my technique to correct.

  We’d only just started doing real, attack-heavy sparring, and I haven’t been able to land a single blow on my mentor.

  Not one.

  And Logan claims it’s because he can “read me like a book”.

  “I’m trying,” I snap back, falling into my own fighting stance, making sure to lower my center of gravity. One of Logan’s favorite strategies is to knock me off balance then pin me within a matter of seconds. He rarely opts for a direct strike, only doing so when I’m close to landing a strike of my own.

  “You could help, you know,” I tell him. “Give me a hint.” He could share what, exactly, I do that makes my next move so obvious. Instead, he just uses my “tell” to his advantage and my annoyance.

  “It’s the obvious,” Logan states, just before he dives forward, feigning a punch with his gloved right hand, then extending with his left. I pull my shoulder back before he makes contact, spinning out of his reach. “You look at the area you’re going to attack right before you make your move.”

  He swings again. And, again, I duck out of the way.

  “How am I supposed to aim without looking?”

  “Figure it out.”

  I snort. Great advice.

  Whirling back around, I shuffle several steps away to give myself time to come up with my next move. Logan doesn’t advance. He bobs on the balls of his feet, looking ready and eager to evade anything I throw his way.

  “Kick to my left knee, followed by a jab to my face,” Logan chirps, accurately predicting my plan.

  I throw my hands in the air, abandoning my fighting stance. “That’s ridiculous—”

  Before I can continue, my feet are swept out from under me.

  Shit!

  The moment my hip hits the ground, I tuck my arms to my body and roll aggressively to my right. This exact scenario has played out between us more times than I can count, and I curse myself for letting my guard down. Now, I have about two seconds to get to my feet before Logan figures out a way to pin me and claim victory.

  The roll is intended to get me out of Logan’s immediate reach, but he must, once again, anticipate my maneuver. A heavy body lands on my back, stopping my rotation. I immediately push onto all fours and try to buck him off, but it’s a mistake.

  Logan’s arms slip under my armpits, and he tucks his hands behind my neck. With a twist, I’m pulled back and facing the ceiling with Logan lying behind me. His legs wrap high around my thighs, demonstrating more flexibility than I would’ve thought possible. My four limbs are rendered immovable.

  I release a frustrated, angry groan.

  “Do you yield?” I swear, I hear humor in his tone.

  I give escape a try, but my effort only makes Logan squeeze me tighter. There’s no getting out of this.

  I exhale and mutter, “Yield.”

  “What?” Logan gives a little chuckle.

  What an ass.

  “I yield,” I practically shout.

  Logan’s hold loosens and I roll off him and get to my feet, facing him.

  He lies on the mat, looking like my takedown took zero effort. Despite the urge to abandon my yield and release a volley of strikes on my unsuspecting mentor, I resist. Holding out a hand, I help him up, then step back, rolling out my arms and neck.

  “Know what you did wrong?” Logan joins me, stretching his arms as we move back to the center of the mat, preparing for our next round.

  “I got distracted,” I say the obvious.

  “And angry,” he tells me. “It makes you sloppy.”

  “I’d think anger makes a person fight better,” I muse aloud. “Adds some fuel to your fire, you know?”

  “For some Guardians, anger does give them an advantage when they fight. It can provide extra motivation, but that doesn’t seem to be the case for you. Your technique is nearly flawless now, but you make mistakes when you’re angry. Instead of trying to buck me off, you should’ve tried to rotate your torso to dislodge me, and then use your legs to shove me away.”

  Now that he says it, I can picture the maneuver.

  Dang. That could’ve actually worked.

  Add that to my growing list of mistakes made when sparring Logan. I’d considered Lex a formidable opponent, but facing my mentor is so much worse.

  “A
gain?” I tighten the straps on my gloves, preparing for another round.

  Logan shakes his head, surprising me. “I think that’s enough for today.”

  I glance at the clock hanging above the long wall, covered by mirrors. “But it’s not even five.”

  “I didn’t say I was dismissing you.” Logan rips off his gloves, crossing to the bench where our gym bags are. He retrieves a bottle of water, taking several sips. Maybe he’s more tired than he looks.

  I follow his example and remove my gloves, flexing my fingers once they’re free and cracking my knuckles to relieve pressure. I get my own water and sit, turning my body so I face him. I know what’s coming.

  Once I’m situated, Logan doesn’t waste another second. “Any more dreams lately?”

  “Not since Wednesday,” I tell him, then drink my water, proud of myself for not feeling nervous or uneasy with the topic. I’ve had weeks to get used to Belial intruding in my dreams, and while it’s still crazy to experience, I’ve been desensitized to just how crazy it is.

  Belial, one of first higher demons to walk the earth, shows up at least two to three times a week. What’s his purpose? I haven’t been able to figure it out. Most of the time, Belial seems content to just talk with me. He asks me about my day, what I’m doing at the academy.

  Obviously, I censor my answers. I refuse to disclose information to an enemy of the Shadowguard, but I do engage the demon. Not because I’m eager to befriend one of the most dangerous demons alive, but because Logan and I have a plan.

  Recently, experienced and well-trained Guardians have gone missing while on missions, but the Shadowguard hasn’t broadcast the information to our society. The only reason I know what’s going on is because I overheard Andrew Legrand, my foster brother’s mentor, discussing the matter with Headmistress Meyer.

  And it doesn’t hurt my mentor is Logan Hendricks, the Head Minister’s son and an active Guardian. He’s privy to a well of information kept from ordinary Guardians.

  After my most recent run-in with Belial, Logan found evidence that the missing Guardians are being taken by demons.

  The purpose? To turn the Guardians into demons, creating a formidable force of fighters. Needless to say, we’d shared the discovery with Head Minister Hendricks, the leader of the Shadowguard, and Logan’s father.

  But we’d been ordered to keep silent.

  Should Logan or I try to tell anyone about what the demons are doing, Logan will be pulled from the field and I’ll be blocked from ever becoming a Guardian.

  And that’s why Logan and I are trying to find undeniable proof of what’s really happening to the missing Guardians. Our plan? To reveal the truth to the rest of our world in such a way that Head Minister Hendricks is forced to publicly acknowledge what’s happening. There are too many Guardians who, right now, are deployed on missions and are at risk.

  So while I might not know why Belial wastes his time engaging me in idle chatter in my dreams, I know why I do. I’m searching for any indication, even the tiniest clue, that will give Logan and I the ability to find the proof we so desperately need to save many Guardians from a horrific, soul-destroying fate.

  “Do you think he will try to visit tonight?” Logan asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

  I shrug. “I never know when he’s going to show up.” There’s no discernible pattern for the night Belial makes an appearance. I think he does it whenever he feels bored.

  Logan’s lips press into a firm line. He averts his gaze, hesitating.

  “What is it?” I’ve gotten pretty good at discerning my mentor’s subtle reactions. He’s obviously not saying something.

  “Does Belial know tomorrow is your birthday?”

  I consider the question. “He knows my birthday’s in November,” I admit. The first time I met Belial, he’d asked me when I would come into my magic. I’d revealed the month of my eighteenth birthday, but not the day. This was before I knew Belial would become a semi-regular part of my life. “But he hasn’t mentioned anything about it during my dreams,” I finish.

  “That’s good. Perhaps you can have a restful night after your powers awaken tonight.”

  His words send a jolt of excitement through my body. Tonight, at the stroke of midnight, my dormant Guardian powers will activate. I’ll be able to tap into the great and wondrous power of sigils. I’ll be one step closer to becoming a full-fledged Guardian. Once I finish my training at the academy, of course.

  “Are you nervous?”

  The question takes me by surprise. “No. Should I be?”

  Logan shrugs, pushing back hair that falls into his face. “I was.”

  “You were?” I don’t hide my shock.

  He nods.

  “Why?”

  Logan’s gaze moves to the far wall. “A lot is expected from the Head Minister’s son… I wasn’t sure I’d live up to the hype.”

  That’s the humblest thing I’ve ever heard my confident, borderline cocky, mentor say.

  “Turns out, I had nothing to worry about,” Logan smirks, immediately shifting back to the confident young man I’ve grown used to.

  I shake my head with a small, indulging smile. “Lucky for me, not many people have expectations of a no-name foster kid.”

  “You wear the Van der Klay name,” Logan points out, contradicting my statement. “I’m sure there are many who have expectations of you.”

  “Geeze, are you trying to make me worry?”

  “Not at all. I just don’t like to hear you speak negatively about yourself.”

  I don’t know what to say to that, so I opt not to say anything at all.

  Several seconds pass before Logan breaks the silence. “Are you celebrating your birthday with friends this weekend?”

  “No. Just dinner with the Van der Klays tonight,” I tell him.

  “Really?”

  “Really,” I confirm.

  “I would’ve expected your roommate to plan a party or something,” he references Cortney. “She strikes me as the type to go above and beyond for her friends.”

  “She is.” I’m fond of my newest kindhearted and thoughtful friend. “Which is exactly why I didn’t tell her tomorrow is my birthday.”

  His eyebrows raise. “Not a fan of being the center of attention?”

  “Bingo.” That’s something I try to avoid at all costs.

  “I can relate.”

  Now, that’s surprising.

  The more time I spend with him, the more I realize there’s much more to the young, talented Guardian than what meets the eye. He’s so skilled at hiding his true feelings about things, I never would’ve guessed he’s not a fan of the spotlight.

  Logan turns his head. I straighten a little, still somewhat unnerved when I’m on the receiving end of his vibrant blue eyes.

  Then, his attention shift to the right. He lifts a hand, and I think he’s going to touch me. I can’t tell if I’m disappointed or relieved when he, instead, scratches his chin before the hand falls back to his lap. “Your hair has fallen out of its tie.”

  “Oh.” I make quick work of retrieving the hairband from the end of my ponytail and tying it back up. “Better?” I ask before I can think better of it.

  Logan’s eyes trail over my face, and I hate myself when I feel the telltale sign of heat rising to my cheeks.

  An awkward cough echoes through the gym, mercifully distracting us from my embarrassment. Both Logan and I turn toward the sound.

  Lex stands just inside the gym’s double doors, watching us warily. It’s a wonder we hadn’t heard him open the door in the first place.

  “Hey, Lex.” I stand up as I greet my foster brother.

  Now that his presence has been acknowledged, Lex walks farther into the gym. That’s when I notice his pressed gray slacks and tailored dress shirt. I take another look at the clock and confirm the time.

  “It’s not time to leave yet, is it?” Vivian, my foster mother, told me the family car wouldn’t arrive to pick us up until six t
hirty.

  “No, not yet,” Lex confirms, allaying the fear of the gym’s clock being faulty.

  With that worry out of the way, I find myself at a loss for his sudden appearance. “Then what’s up? Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, everything’s good,” Lex stops walking. He turns his attention to Logan. I hadn’t realized my mentor had also gotten to his feet. He stands close to me. “I came by to invite you to Aspen’s birthday dinner tonight.”

  My stomach falls to the floor. “What?”

  Lex spares me a sympathetic glance before he returns his attention to Logan. “My dad told me to ask. No big deal if you’d rather not come.”

  Of course.

  Charles Van der Klay is a member of the Shadowguard Council. Aka: a politician. He wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to schmooze the Head Minister’s son.

  Logan doesn’t immediately answer. I shoot him a glance, and I’m surprised to see he’s looking at me.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  He crosses his arms and exhales. “I don’t want to insult Councilman Van der Klay by refusing his invitation…”

  “But?” I prompt after he trails off.

  “But it’s your birthday.” Again, he looks notably uncomfortable. “I don’t want to ruin your evening with my presence.”

  I’m taken aback. Without thinking, I blurt, “Don’t be ridiculous, you being there won’t ruin my birthday. I’d be happy if you came.”

  Instantly, the fading blush from earlier returns with full brightness.

  I’m embarrassed, but I don’t take back what I’ve said.

  If I’m being honest, Logan will be a good distraction from the Van der Klays’ attention tonight. Vivian’s become somewhat overbearing since I started at the academy. Not that I can really blame her. I mean, I’ve had two run-ins with demons already. Her concern is understandable.