Demon Guard Page 12

  “Legrand, there you are.”

  My body goes rigid, and my lungs seize up. I know that voice.

  Logan steps into sight, and it’s a painfully striking sight. Like Andrew, he sports the tousled hair look. He wears a midnight blue t-shirt and dark washed pants with black combat boots. If Andrew looks like he stepped out of a magazine, then Logan looks like he just walked off a movie set where he plays the bad boy. I hate myself for finding him attractive. He’s a jerk. Jerks should have flaws like crooked teeth, a fat nose, or bad breath. Why does Logan get to look like a dark angel sent to seduce all the good girls of the world while acting like an ass at the same time?

  Logan claps a hand on Andrew’s shoulder. “This place is packed. I’ve been looking for you guys for ten minutes.” He is smiling, and he looks relaxed. He’s one hundred times more breathtaking when his skin isn’t folded into a scowl. Logan’s attention finally shifts to the other members of the group, and his relaxing expression instantly disappears when his gaze lands on me.

  “You.”

  I flinch.

  I can’t help it.

  There’s so much undeserved hate in that single whispered word. I’m not certain Logan had expected me to even hear it. But I did.

  I must’ve really pissed him off during training today, but I don’t care. He deserved it. Actually, he deserved worse, but I’m not brave enough to punch him in the face.

  “Logan,” Andrew greets, gesturing towards me. “Look who I found: your mentee.”

  Logan stares at me. He’s careful to conceal his usual frown for others to see, but I can sense his disapproval. His eyes travel over my crop top and skirt. His nostrils flare, and he looks angry.

  “Aspen.” There is less malice in this greeting, but it cannot erase the impact of the first.

  I take a breath and grit my teeth. “Guardian Hendricks.”

  His gaze travels over my face. I’m not sure what he’s searching for, but I’m unnerved by the scrutiny. I shift my feet.

  A hand lands on my lower back. I look to the side and see Trevor has drawn closer. He offers me a hesitant smile. “Mind if we talk for a second?”

  His touch is barely there, but I’m acutely aware of the pads of his fingers when they brush against the sliver of exposed skin.

  I swallow. “S-sure.”

  When I look back at the mentors, Logan’s hard stare has moved to the hand pressed against my back.

  I clear my throat, and his eyes snap back to mine. They’re filled with his characteristic disapproval. I force myself to ignore it.

  I look at Cortney. Lex still flirts with her, and based on my friend’s smile, she’s enjoying it.

  “We’ll be right back,” I say to no one in particular. I look at Trevor. He drops his hand and walks about ten feet from our original group. They’re still in sight which is good. If Cortney starts looking for me, she’ll be able to see me.

  “So, what’s up?” I try to sound as easygoing as I can. It’s hard to do, knowing Trevor might have a crush on me. Stupid Peter.

  His tentative smile is still on his lips. “Two things really. One, I wanted to say sorry for what I said to you in the library. I’ve been thinking about it, and I was out of line. I hope you don’t hate me or anything.”

  “Oh.” I blink. I’d thought we’d silently agreed to move past that. “No.”

  His face falls. “No?”

  “No, I don’t hate you,” I tell him.

  His smile is quick to return, but it’s cautious. “Phew. I was worried there for a minute.”

  I watch him, determined not to be naïve like Peter accuses. Trevor’s cheek twitches. He’s obviously nervous. Is that because he was nervous to apologize? Or he’s nervous just talking to me?

  “What’s the second thing?” He’d mentioned there were two things he wanted to say.

  His expression relaxes. “Oh, just that I thought you might want to get away from your mentor.” He looks pointedly over my shoulder. I suspect Logan still stands there. I don’t turn around to confirm. “You two don’t exactly seem to get along.”

  “Picked up on that?”

  “It’s hard not to. Logan is usually really chill, but around you, he’s a stone-cold statue.”

  It’s difficult for me to imagine Logan being anything but the hard-headed jerk I’ve seen the past two days. The old Logan? Sure. I could see him being a relaxed and cool mentor. But this Logan Hendricks is a far cry from that.

  “He doesn’t like me,” I offer, not knowing what else to say. I hope Trevor doesn’t ask why. His guess is as good as mine.

  “That sucks,” he says.

  “Yeah. It does.”

  Trevor’s eyes widen a split second before he grabs my arms and pulls me towards him. A massive body smashes into a table, sending a barstool crashing to the ground. It takes me two seconds to recognize my fellow first year.

  “Burns?” The bulky blond staggers back, swaying on his feet. His eyes are glassy with the effects of alcohol. When they shift to me, I know I made a mistake saying his name.

  “Van der K-klay,” he sputters, trying and failing to sneer. He’s too drunk. “Are you here for a rematch?”

  What’s he talking about?

  “Noooo.” I drag out the word, looking behind Burns, hoping to see some of his friends. I don’t recognize anyone. He’d stumbled over here on his own, and there’s no one to check him.

  “Why not? Is the bitch ssssscared?”

  I’ve been called worse. His insult doesn’t affect me, but it bothers Trevor. My brother’s friend steps forward and grabs Burns by the front of his shirt. “Back off, man.”

  “Or what?”

  “Or I make you.” Trevor doesn’t sound like the calm guy I’ve grown accustomed to. He gives Burns a powerful shove and the muscular guy goes reeling back into another tall table.

  I step forward, prepared to intervene before this gets out of hand. Long, cool fingers wrap against my upper arm, stopping me. I stiffen.

  Just as I’m about to pull free and give the newcomer a piece of my mind, warm breath brushes against my cheek, shocking me into inaction.

  “Hello, little mountain.”

  Sixteen

  I can’t move. I’m in a trance. I have to be. There’s no other reason for my inability to react. My heart is pounding angrily in my chest, trying to be heard in lieu of screaming.

  The truth hits me. I’m dealing with a demon, but I don’t know which kind. Is it an incubus? The last thing I want is to be lured away so he can have his way with me, but it’s better than a vampire who wants to rip my throat out. Unless the incubus is rogue and he breaks Shadowguard laws by draining the souls of his victims…

  I need to free myself from this trance, but I don’t know how.

  “There, there,” the voice drawls. I hear the hint of an English accent. “There’s no reason to panic. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to help.”

  Yeah, right. Why put me in a trance if you are a knight in shining armor? My mouth is immobilized, but the angry questions flare in my mind.

  I see Trevor going toe-to-toe with Burns. I want to look around and catch Lex‘s or Andrew’s attention. Hell, I’ll even settle for Logan’s glare. I just need someone to see my panic. But I’m unable to turn my head. The tendons in my neck flex with the effort, but I keep looking forward.

  “Come this way, little mountain, before you crumble from the oncoming danger.”

  My feet start to move forward.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  Think, Aspen. How do you break a trance?

  A sigil is the obvious answer. If I were on a mission, I would’ve placed one on my body to protect me from this very scenario.

  But I’m not on a freaking mission. I’m at a stupid bar. A bar full of Guardian students. I shouldn’t be in a stupid trance right now.

  A new fear fills my chest. We’re at a bar full of academy students.

  The missing Guardians… What if that’s what this is? An abduction?<
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  I walk right by Trevor and Burns. I don’t expect the latter to notice me, but Trevor is also completely oblivious to the fact I’m being led away by a monster.

  “Stop here.” I stop moving. We’re still in the bar, so that’s good. But we are tucked in the back corner, practically out of sight.

  “Turn around.”

  I do, and my eyes widen when I see I am face to face with the guy I’d seen hanging out in the shadows. His face is just as flawless as I’d thought, and his hair is so black it looks like the night sky. He’s gorgeous, and he’s clearly a demon—a higher demon.

  My blood runs cold as I gaze into the demon’s bright, purple eyes. My mother’s warning to stay away from people with colored eyes hits me hard. I’m in over my head.

  The demon watches me. I curse my inability to scream when he lifts a hand and brushes a finger against my cheek. I’m not even able to shudder.

  “The resemblance is uncanny,” he murmurs, continuing to stroke my face. “I had to get a closer look to be sure.”

  Clearly, he thinks I look like someone. I can’t even begin to guess who.

  The demon leans down. For a horrific moment, I think he’s going to kiss me. What happens when a higher demon kisses someone? Am I robbed of my Guardian abilities? Or do they suck out your soul like an incubus?

  The demon’s lips brush against my ear. Over his shoulder, my eyes land on Logan. He’s pivoting his feet as he turns and looks all around the room. I can only hope he’s looking for me.

  “Leave this place, little mountain. Before it’s too late.”

  Still at the mercy of his trance, I step to slip under his arm and heed his command. I’m stopped when he grabs my right arm. His gaze locks on the skin just above my inner elbow.

  I can’t look down, but I know the demon is staring at my Shadowguard mark. My pulse spikes. A lesser demon might mistake it for an ordinary birthmark, but a higher demon knows better. I’m screwed. There’s no way a higher demon is going to let an enemy walk out of his grasp.

  “How old are you, little mountain?”

  I’m compelled to answer. “Seventeen.”

  His thumb brushes over the mark. Again, my body longs to shudder with disgust. “Too young for sigil work.” He speaks low, as if he isn’t really talking to me.

  Still, his hold over me forces the words past my lips, “Yes.”

  “When are you of age?”

  “November.”

  “Ah.” He continues to caress the mark. “Soon then.” There’s a new gleam in the demon’s purple irises. It can mean nothing good.

  “You have a question for me?”

  I have dozens. “Yes.”

  His smile grows. “I give you permission to ask me one.”

  This has to be a trick. Though, I am unable to see how.

  His influence prevents me from declining. “Are you going to hurt me?”

  The demon mulls over the question. His head tilts to the side, and a strand of inky black hair falls across his forehead. If it weren’t for the fact he’s a higher demon who ravages humans for sport, I would be in awe of his stunning beauty. As it is, his beauty is terrifying because it is not of the mortal world. It’s evil. He’s evil.

  “I do not intend to hurt you.” He blinks, as if he’s just as surprised by his response as I am.

  At first, I struggle to believe him, but then I remember demons can’t lie. They can deceive, and they’re experts at it, but they can’t lie. It’s one of the only limitations put on them by The Creator. That, and the creation of the Guardian race, are the only things that keep demons from controlling this world completely.

  “That’s not really an answer.” I’m surprised the words are able to leave my mouth.

  The demon chuckles. “No, it isn’t. But I’m not obligated to give you a real answer. Now it’s my turn to ask you a question.”

  “You’ve already asked me questions.” Once again, I’m stunned at my ability to speak freely. The demon must’ve loosened the restrictions of the trance. I consider yelling for help, but the demon has me in such a precarious position, I’d be foolish to give him a reason to act against me.

  The demon ignores my statement. “Do you know what this means?” He lifts my arm until I am looking at my mark.

  “It’s my Shadowguard mark.”

  He nods. “Yes, but do you know what it means?” There’s a new intensity in his stare. I feel the press of his trance against my mind. He’s searching for a certain answer, and he is trying to will me to give it.

  “It means I’m a descendant of Thaddeus,” I reply. His power draws the answer from my lips. “It means I’m destined to serve the Shadowguard and kill demons. Like you.”

  I’ve disappointed him. It’s obvious from the way his lips turn down. He doesn’t care that I’ve basically just threatened his life. There was something else he wanted me to say, and the fact that I didn’t upsets him.

  The demon lowers my arm, but he keeps his hold on me. “How very tragic. To not know one’s heritage is to risk not knowing one’s future.” The odd phrase and his accent make him seem years older than he looks. Demons can live forever. They do not age, and their bodies do not wear down. Unless they are killed, they can roam the Earth and terrorize mortals.

  “I-I don’t understand.”

  He cups my cheek with his free hand, tilting my head up. This time, I’m able to shudder. My mouth goes dry as I stare up into his purple eyes, terrified of the heat I see in them.

  “You will, little mountain. Don’t worry. I’ll help you.” He leans closer. This time, I’m one hundred percent sure he intends to kiss me. Horror grips my chest. I can’t let this happen.

  But I have no choice.

  Confident, firm lips press against mine. My eyes are open, but I see the demon’s are closed. He doesn’t try to deepen the kiss or prolong it. After a brief moment, he leans back and his mouth erupts into a breathtaking smile that nearly blinds me.

  How can someone so evil be so attractive?

  “Until we meet again, little mountain.” His hand remains pressed against my cheek, and I’m acutely aware of how warm my body feels. Then, in the blink of an eye, the demon disappears. I’m alone.

  I stumble back and lean against the wall. Shaky fingers lift to my lips. Did that really just happen?

  “Go,” I hear his voice whisper. I look around frantically, but I don’t see the demon.

  “Go, little mountain,” he says again. “Before it’s too late.”

  “Where are you?” I hiss, releasing the anger building in my gut. How dare the demon rob me of my freewill? He should’ve killed me when he had the chance, because now he’s number one on my kill list.

  I don’t receive a reply. The demon is gone. I’m so furious, I don’t notice the cloaked figures weaving their way through the bar until I hear a high-pitched, gut-wrenching scream.

  Then, all hell breaks loose.

  Seventeen

  Glass shatters. Demons, a dozen of them, descend on the room through broken window and doors ripped off hinges. I watch, horrified, as mundane demons throw human bodies out of their way like they’re nothing more than ragdolls. Their hunched bodies scramble through the room, doing maximum damage. I realize they clear the path for the cloaked figures. I watch the garments fall to the sticky floor as, one by one, the monsters reveal themselves. I see their attractive faces, highlighted by glowing red and yellow eyes. More higher demons.

  Screams fill the air, accompanied by confused and disoriented shouts of protests. These people are drunk. They don’t know what’s happening. I search for Guardians and students, but it’s too chaotic. I can’t see anything. The higher demons strike with brutal efficiency and speed.

  One spots me cowered in the corner. Red eyes flash as the higher demon lunges. I see his nails distort into long, sharpened claws. I drop into a defensive stance, prepared to take the blow and fight for my life. A glowing blue dagger flies across the bar and embeds itself in the base of the demon’s
skill. He falls into a wide-eyed heap. Black blood spills out of the wound.

  “Aspen!” Logan’s voice reaches me two seconds before he does. He wraps his hands around my arms and gives me a shake. “Are you hurt?”

  Glass breaks when one of the demons throws a guy over the bar, into the stack of pint glasses.

  Logan gives me another shake. “Aspen!”

  I come to my senses and force my surprise and fear to the back of my mind. There’s no time to indulge them. “I’m fine,” I gasp. “Cortney and Peter?”

  “Andrew got them out. Come on. We have to go.”

  “What about Lex and the other students!” There are many of us here. If the demons are really trying to abduct Guardians, they will be easy pickings.

  “They’ll be fine. More Guardians are on their way. Our orders are to get as many out as we can.”

  I’m no match to face a coordinated demon attack, but I loathe the idea of leaving the bar knowing there are students who need help. I look past Logan and see demons continue to strike down innocent humans without a second thought. They prowl past them, totally uninterested in finishing the job. Clearly, they aren’t here for human victims.

  Tired of my delay, Logan growls and yanks me out of the corner by my wrist. Against the yearnings of my conscience, I don’t fight him.

  We stop by the fallen demon. Logan bends down and retrieves his glowing dagger. He wipes the blood on his pants then continues towards the back of the bar, dragging me with him.

  “We’ve cleared the alley in the back,” he says over his shoulder. “Guardians are holding the perimeter. Cars are waiting. Get in one and get back to the academy.” He pushes me against the wall as a demon comes running towards us. With one dodged punch and two quick swipes of his blade, Logan dispatches the demon. He snags my wrist and resumes pulling me.

  “I-I don’t know how to drive,” I admit, almost losing my balance as I step over the slumped body. Logan stops pulling me long enough for me to regain my footing, and then he’s back at it.

  “Then get in a car with someone who does. The demons won’t be kept from the alley forever. You’ve got to get out.”