Demon Guard Page 11

  “Duh, Facebook.” Cortney rolls her eyes. “I swear, my grandmom uses social media more than you. I barely even see you on your phone. What kind of teenager are you?”

  I look at the nightstand where my smart phone still sits on the charger from the night before and shrug. “I don’t really need it.”

  “Don’t you want to keep in touch with your friends from before?”

  “I didn’t have friends.” I expect the words to come out even and unaffected, but I’m surprised to hear a tinge of sadness seep into them. Having someone like Cortney to talk to makes me realize that I might’ve enjoyed having a true friend during high school—someone besides Lex.

  “Are we even allowed to go into the city?” I continue, easily moving the topic away from my lonely existence.

  “We aren’t prisoners,” Cortney laughs. “Besides, it’s practically the weekend. The only obligation we have tomorrow is our first session with the Assessor. Come on. It’ll be fun.”

  I mull over her words. She’s right. We aren’t prisoners, and my meeting with the Assessor isn’t until after lunch tomorrow. I’ll have plenty of time to recuperate from a late night out. At least, I think I will. I’ve never gone out like this before. I scrunch my nose. I’d been a hermit these past four years.

  “You think Peter will want to go?” I’m not sexist. Cortney and I can totally take care of ourselves if we run into any trouble, but it might be nice to have a guy with us to deter any trouble from starting in the first place.

  Cortney grins. “He’s the one who suggested it. Should I text him and tell him we’re in?”

  I take a breath. A lot has happened in four short days. Honestly, I could use some time away from the academy. It will give me a real chance to clear my head.

  Maybe I’ll be able to figure out how to handle Logan and the disappointment which still clenches my chest when I think about the fact he doesn’t remember who I am. This could be exactly what I need.

  With that thought in mind, I look up and return friend’s smile with an excited one of my own. “Yeah. I’m in.”

  Fourteen

  “Thank the good lord I’m out of that tasteless uniform,” Peter speaks into my ear, making sure he’s heard over the loud, chattering groups around us. We are pressed against the left side of a U-shaped bar, waiting for Cortney to come out of the bathroom. “The lack of individual expression seriously bums me out.”

  Peter, Cortney and I arrived at the concert less than twenty minutes ago. Cortney had called her parents and we were picked up by her family’s driver and driven into the city with no questions asked. I don’t think I’d question Cortney either if she were my daughter. She’s too sweet to get into any mischief.

  Peter’s words make me look him up and down, taking in the skinny black jeans tucked into leather ankle boots. A tight white shirt is partially hidden by the gray flannel hanging open over his chest. His style is hipster to the max.

  “Why do you get to wear pants, but I don’t?” I ask, still indignant about the red skater skirt and black crop top I’d been coerced into wearing.

  Both Cortney and Peter had argued against my usual attire of casual jeans, t-shirt, and leather jacket. Instead, they convinced me to take a risk and borrow some of Cortney’s clothes. I resist the urge to tug the top down. It reaches my belly-button, making me think it must be barely more than a sports-bra on my taller roommate. The skirt is high waisted and reaches mid-thigh, so I’m really not revealing that much skin. Still, it’s different. And different is always a little strange at first.

  “Because you’re a babe, and you need to rock it,” Peter responds with a smirk. It’s his turn to eye me up and down. “Besides, don’t act like you fought us too hard on your outfit. Admit it, you like dressing up.”

  “I don’t like to waste my time arguing with unreasonable people.”

  Peter laughs. His smile brightens his face. I see a group of girls give him an appreciative look. They don’t know they’re eyeing the wrong tree.

  Someone moves next to the group, and my gaze is caught by a tall guy standing in the back corner of the venue. He wears a white button-down shirt, undone at the top, and a pair of expensive gray slacks. His features are hidden in the shadows from the wall behind him, but I can see the whites of his eyes. He’s checking me out. I pull attention back to Peter. The last thing I want to do is lure some stranger to try and come talk to me. This night is about having fun and relaxing with my friends, not flirting with guys.

  A series of giggles sounds across the bar. I recognize a couple of fellow academy students taking turns to knock back shots of tequila. The blonde and brunette laugh at one another when their mouths pucker from the tart, burning taste.

  I jerk my head their direction. “Do you know them?”

  Peter nods. “Stacey and Joanna. They’re second years.”

  I nod, knowing I hadn’t recognized them as our year’s classmates.

  “Are they twenty-one?” I watch as the bartender pours the giggling girls another pair of shots.

  “No idea,” he distractedly says, then hums, “well, well, look who’s also here.”

  My eyes widen when I see Lex and Trevor sidle up beside the girls. Lex whispers something into the brunette’s ears, and the girl’s eyes begin to flutter so quickly, I think she might fly away.

  I barely hide my snort. Seriously? Is there a girl alive who doesn’t like my foster brother? I really need to release some embarrassing photos or something. Lex’s head is already big enough. No one needs it getting any bigger.

  “What’s going on with you and Welsh?” Peter asks.

  Trevor?

  I look back at him with a raised brow, genuinely confused. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, what’s going on with you two? Are you a thing?”

  “No. Why would you ask that?”

  Peter’s eyes flicker between mine, gauging my reaction. Surprise widens his eyes. “You really don’t know?”

  I shake my head.

  “Poor little Aspen,” Peter tsks in mock sympathy. “So beautiful, but so naïve.”

  “Hey!” I object. “I’m not naïve.” And I’m not beautiful. Average, I’d say. Not ugly, but nothing notable either.

  “Really?” He gives me a pointed look. “Then you’re seriously going to tell me you don’t notice how Trevor watches you like a lost little puppy hoping to be thrown a bone?”

  I’m at a loss for words. It takes me a second to get ahold of my thoughts. “He does not.”

  “He does. He’s doing it now.”

  On instinct, I look back across the bar and see Trevor watching me. I quickly turn away, and I pray that the dim lighting hides the color on my cheeks.

  Peter chuckles low. “How can someone so pretty be so unaware?”

  I scowl. “Stop making fun of me.”

  “I’m not.” Peter says in earnest. “It’s a legitimate question. I’ve hung out with you all week, and you honestly don’t seem to notice when the guys in our class are openly checking you out. Other girls have serious radar for that stuff, but you don’t.”

  “Why in the world would I spend my time trying to figure out if people are looking at me?”

  Once again, Peter laughs. “Because most teenage girls like to be looked at.”

  “Well, not me.”

  “Clearly,” Peter smiles.

  “I still feel like you’re making fun of me.”

  “I’m not,” he reassures me again. “Honestly, it’s nice to see a future Guardian not prowling around the school, wondering who the Assessor might list as her compatible suitors. I swear, most of our classmates are like a heard of lionesses, searching for their unsuspecting prey. Only, they won’t fight together if they want the same one. Those kitties will scratch each other’s eyes out with sharp claws if need be.”

  I visibly wince. “That’s twisted.” Students at the school range from seventeen to twenty-one, depending on where their birthday falls on the calendar. Who in their right mi
nd would be concerned with finding their future husband or wife so early in life?

  “It’s the reality,” Peter remarks. “Attending the academy isn’t just to hone our Guardian skills, it’s also the first shove into Shadowguard society for most of us. It’s meant to train us to fight demons, but it’s also meant to let us meet one another and date.”

  “And you think Trevor wants to date me?”

  Peter shrugs. “All I’m saying is the way he stares at you any time he’s around makes me think he might.”

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

  “Sorry guys,” Cortney pops up between us. “The line was crazy long. Do you want to go get a spot near the stage? The concert will be starting in a few minutes.”

  “Sure,” Peter grins. Once again, the group of girls swoon.

  I force my lips into a smile, hiding how unnerved I am by Peter’s words, and say, “Let’s go.”

  Cortney grasps my hand and pulls me into the sea of people. Peter puts an arm on my shoulder. With a few well-timed pivots and nudges, Cortney leads us right to the center front of the stage. I marvel at the fact no one has positioned themselves in the spot yet.

  When I mention that out loud, Peter says, “Most people are busy getting drinks.” He holds up a short glass tumbler in demonstration.

  “When did you get that?” I’d been standing by him the entire time, and I never saw him order a drink. We hadn’t been carded when we entered the bar, but I was sure we’d be carded if we tried to buy alcohol.

  “The bartender slipped it to me before we left,” he says with a wink. “I’m sure you didn’t notice, but he was giving me some flirty vibes. I’ll probably get his number before we leave.”

  “Careful,” Cortney warns wisely. “It could be roofied.”

  “Won’t be a problem.” Peter flicks his wrist and reveals the fading glow of a sigil embossed in his skin. Both Cortney and I stare at him in disbelief.

  “What?” He laughs. “It’s just a sigil to combat any toxins in my body, including alcohol and drugs.”

  I blink, still stunned to see Peter managed to successfully draw a sigil on his body. We hadn’t practiced that in class yet.

  “There’s a sigil for that?” Cortney asks.

  Peter sips the light brown liquid. “There’s a sigil for everything.”

  Noise on the stage gathers the bar’s attention. I watch the band venture onto the stage. Several in the crowd begin to clap and cheer.

  “New York, how are you doing tonight?” The lead singer bellows into the microphone. The crowd cheers. I clap with them.

  “I’m Mathias, and we are Shadow Squad. Are you ready us to rock this bar?”

  Again, the crowd roars.

  I smirk. It’s bad enough Mathis abandoned our society, but he digs a knife in the Shadowguard’s back with that mocking name. It makes me wonder if there’s more to his desertion than simply wanting to pursue a musical career.

  The lead guitarist begins strumming the beginning of the first song, the drummer coming in after several counts. I find my head bobbing and my body swaying to the beat of the music. Cortney and Peter do the same beside me. The entire crowd enjoys themselves. Some know the lyrics to the song and are shouting them into the air. The atmosphere is electric and exciting. I realize I’m smiling.

  Cortney turns, holding her hand as a microphone, and pretends to serenade me and Peter. Peter leans down and joins her, and I laugh. Clearly, they’re both fans of the band.

  Song after song plays. I continue to dance and jump around with my friends, having the best time in I don’t know how long. I decide I’m going to do this as often as I can. For too long, I locked myself away from the rest of the world. It’s time to join it. I will join it.

  My left cheek tingles. I rub it with my hand, and my eyes shift to the side of the room on their own accord.

  There, still standing in the shadows, is the guy with the white button-down and slacks. There’s more light around him now. I’m able to see he has stubble on his rugged jawline and dark black hair.

  I can’t explain why, but I’m mesmerized by him. There’s something different and eye-catching about the guy. I fight the urge to push my way out of the crowd and go to him.

  Get a grip, Aspen.

  I shake my head, clearing away the heady desire to go meet the strange man.

  Still, I’m unable to look away. I don’t want to lose sight of the stunning stranger. What I see next robs me of breath.

  Bright, white teeth shine through the bar’s light. The stranger is smiling, and his gleaming grin is directed at me. And I swear he mouths, “Aspen”.

  Fifteen

  A broad guy shifts forward, and I lose sight of the enticing stranger. Freed from my own ogling, I shake my head. There’s no way that guy knows my name. Convincing myself I imagined the whole thing, I return my attention to the band. The drummer catches my eye, and my face flushes when he winks.

  Is this what Peter had been talking about? Had I really wandered through life without noticing when guys checked me out?

  The band takes a break after playing for an hour. My forehead is covered in sweat. I’m glad I declined Cortney’s suggestion to wear foundation. It would be wiped away at this point. I rub under my eyes, careful not to disturb the mascara and eyeliner she’d successfully coerced me into wearing.

  “You guys want to get some water?” Cortney asks. She, too, is sweating. Her curly hair frizzes from the humidity, but she doesn’t look gross. In fact, she looks invigorated with flushed cheeks and bright eyes.

  “Yes, please,” I nod.

  Once again, Cortney leads the way through the crowd. Instead of all of us trying to make our way to the crowded bar, Peter leaves us beside a tall table full of empty glasses, telling us he will come back with waters. I watch him go, and I see the moment the bartender spots him. The guy with cat-lined eyes and a black muscle-tank immediately straightens and approaches my friend, asking to take his order. I grin. That’s a nice perk.

  “Aspen Van der Klay?” I turn around and see none other than Andrew Legrand walking towards our table with a delighted, though teasing, smile. “Fancy seeing you here.”

  He wears a well-fitted blazer, jeans, and dockers. With his tousled hair, he looks like he just stepped out of a magazine. I’m suddenly self-conscious of the hair sticking to my sweaty face and neck. I try to fix the mess by pulling my hair over one shoulder. I doubt it makes much difference.

  “Holy crap.” I hear Cortney mutter under her breath. She’s staring at Andrew like he’s a god among men. It takes everything I have not to roll my eyes.

  He stops walking less than three feet away and puts his hands in his pockets with a smile full of mischief.

  I clear my throat and dip my head. “Guardian Legrand.”

  “Come on,” his grin grows. “It’s Andrew when we’re not doing Shadowguard business.” His eyes move to Cortney. “Who’s your beautiful friend?”

  “Cortney Elms, this is Andrew Legrand. Andrew is Lex’s mentor.”

  “N-nice to meet you,” Cortney returns, holding out a hand.

  Andrew takes it, then bends down to kiss her knuckles. I’m close to throwing up on his expensive shoes.

  “Aren’t you laying it on a little thick, Andrew?” Lex appears behind his mentor, grinning ear to ear.

  I’m stunned Lex speaks so casually to his mentor, but that could be normal for all I know. Maybe not all mentors are dismissive, arrogant asses to their mentees.

  Lex’s eyes widen, and his smile falls away. “Aspen?” He eyes me up and down and frowns. “What are you doing here? And what are you wearing?”

  I barely notice that Trevor, too, as joined our group. I’m too busy being offended by my foster brother. “Excuse me?”

  Lex throws a hand out towards me. “Since when do you wear things like that?”

  I see red. “Since I’ve wanted to. What’s wrong with it?”

  “Absolutely nothi
ng,” Trevor says in an openly admiring way, pulling my attention away from my insufferable foster brother. Dark eyes meet mine, and there’s no denying the attraction I see.

  Lex shoves his arm, freeing me from Trevor’s stare. “Not cool, man.”

  Trevor grins sheepishly. Andrew laughs. So does Cortney. Only Lex and I aren’t amused.

  “I think your sister looks lovely,” Andrew tells Lex, his voice practically purring. “So does Cortney.” He gives my friend a quick wink, and I swear I hear her sigh.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming here?” Lex asks, sounding less upset, but still in protective mode.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” I throw back.

  He shrugs. “I didn’t think about it.”

  “Same here.”

  “Touché.” Lex smirks, then shifts his attention to Cortney. “What do you think about the band?” I relax a little. I can tell he’s trying to diffuse the tension he’d caused.

  “They’re great!” Cortney replies enthusiastically. “I’m a huge fan.”

  “Me too.” Lex steps around our group to stand closer to Cortney.

  Andrew leans over and speaks into my ear, preventing me from hearing what he says to her. “Are you a fan of Shadow Squad, Aspen?”

  I turn my chin and meet his glittering eyes, full of mischief.

  “I never heard of them before tonight, but they’re pretty good.” I say, looking away from his intense gaze only to see Trevor’s attention is, also, locked on me.

  Where’s Peter? I could use a buffer from all the staring. I glance at the bar and see my friend still flirting with the cat-eyed bartender. I resist the urge to call out to him. He wouldn’t hear me anyway.

  “This is my first concert for them, too,” Trevor provides.

  “Ah. Cool.” I shift my feet, wishing Peter would’ve never mentioned Trevor to me. This wouldn’t be so awkward if he hadn’t. At least, that’s what I tell myself. I’ve always been uneasy around people I don’t know well, but this twisting in my gut takes it to a whole other level.