Demon Marked: Shadowguard Academy Book 2 Read online

  Beside me, I feel Lex give me a curious look, but I’m looking at Logan.

  His eyes search mine. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “All right.” Do I imagine it, or does Logan seem almost… happy?

  “I suppose we should end your training session so you have ample time to prepare yourself.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t need long to get ready.”

  “If I can interject,” Lex steps forward with a smirk. “Aspen is notorious for pressing her luck when it comes to being on time. I, for one, would rather not be on the receiving end of our parents’ ire if we show up late.”

  I roll my eyes. “We won’t be late. I don’t need an hour and a half to pamper myself.”

  “Are you sure?” Lex scrunches his nose. “You’re pretty sweaty, and you smell.”

  “Rude!” I shove him.

  Lex nudges back playfully. “Hey, I just call it like I see it.”

  Before I can give my retort, Logan interrupts, “That’s okay, Aspen. You’re dismissed. I could use the time to wrap up a few things before we leave. Six thirty is when the car arrives?”

  “Yes,” Lex answers. “At the front drive.”

  Logan dips his chin. “I’ll see you then.” With that, my mentor turns on his heel, picks up his gym bag, and leaves without saying another word.

  Lex and I watch his departure in silence. It isn’t until the two metal doors swing closed that he turns towards me, eyebrows raised.

  I release an exasperated sigh. I’m so not in the mood for Lex’s teasing. “What?”

  “You two seem friendly.”

  “Yeah. We’re getting along better.”

  “Clearly…” Lex lets innuendo seep into his voice.

  I shake my head. “Stop it.”

  “Stop what?”

  “You know what.” I point an accusing finger at him. “Logan is my mentor. He’s being nice. It’s not that weird.”

  “It is, considering the guy acted like he couldn’t stand the sight of you a few weeks ago.”

  I have nothing to say to that. I can’t tell Lex all that’s happened to make Logan and I allies. It’s been hard to keep the truth from my friends and family, but we can’t risk Head Minister Hendricks figuring out what we’re doing before we accomplish our goal.

  Lex awaits my response, watching me carefully.

  I make sure my expression reveals nothing when I say, “Whatever. I’m not overthinking it. I’m just glad he’s actually training me. I’m learning a lot.”

  For a second, I don’t think he’s going to let me skirt around the conversation so easily, but he does.

  “I’m sure you are,” Lex says. “He’s apparently the best student to come through St. Michael’s academy in twenty years.”

  “So I’ve heard.” I swing my gym bag over my shoulder and walk to the exit. Lex follows. “He’s putting me through the ringer with extra combat training. I bet I could really give you a run for your money now.”

  Lex laughs, holding the door open for me. “Yeah? We’ll have to spar then. How about Sunday?”

  I grin. “I’m down.”

  He returns my smile, then gives me a little shove toward my dormitory. “Now, go shower and get ready. You really do smell.”

  “Jerk,” I call over my shoulder. But I follow his instruction and make my way to my dorm, preoccupied with thoughts of what I’m going to wear now that I know Logan is coming.

  Why does it matter?

  I scold myself for the silly concern. Logan’s my mentor. He couldn’t care less what I’m wearing, and I certainly shouldn’t care what he thinks.

  Nope.

  Not at all.

  Chapter Two

  Despite the fact I’m one hundred percent sure Vivian knows her husband invited my mentor to dinner, we’re picked up in the Van der Klays’ luxury Mercedes sedan. It would be a spacious and comfortable ride if only Lex and I were in the car. But with Logan, the three of us sit in the back seat with our shoulders brushing against one another.

  Maybe Vivian and Charles thought Morty, our family driver, would allow one of us to ride in the passenger seat next to him. Alas, the traditional man wouldn’t hear of it. He’d ushered each of us into the back seat. I have the lucky spot in the middle, and I’m doing my best to ignore how warm Logan’s body feels and the enticing smell of his cologne.

  Thank goodness the Van der Klay home isn’t that far from St. Michael’s. Without traffic, the drive is less than thirty-minutes away. With traffic, it’s usually no more than forty-five to fifty minutes.

  “Ugh, Aspen, get your hair off me. It’s still wet.” Lex flings a loose chunk of my hair over my shoulder.

  “You act like it’s poison,” I tease. “It’s just water.”

  “Water that’s ruining my nice shirt,” Lex counters.

  I roll my eyes. Careful not to lean too close to Logan’s side of the car, I gather my hair and twist the length into a spiral to help hold it in place. When I face forward, Morty’s eyes catch mine in the rearview mirror. Based on the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, he’s smiling.

  Morty has been with the Van der Klays for as long as I’ve been around, and he’s always enjoyed watching me and Lex banter.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t blow dry your hair,” Lex mutters under his breath, unable to let it go. “Mom is going to kill you for leaving the academy with wet hair in this weather.”

  “Aw,” I lean my wet head on his shoulder. “Are you worried I might get sick? How sweet!”

  “You’re annoying,” he tells me, but he doesn’t move to get me off his shirt, despite complaining about it earlier.

  I grin and lift my head, all too aware of the extra set of eyes coming from the other side of the sedan.

  “So what do you think Vivian asked Chef to make tonight?” I keep talking, trying to prevent uncomfortable silence from developing.

  “Probably your favorites, if I had to guess.”

  “What are your favorite foods?” Logan joins the conversation. I shift and meet his eye, swallowing back my nerves when I notice how close his face is to mine. “Pizza.”

  “What type?”

  “Pepperoni and Basil.”

  “That’s specific.”

  “Aspen is a particular eater,” Lex throws out.

  “I am not,” I object.

  “Oh, really?” Lex challenges. “Then you’d be okay eating a plain cheese pizza for dinner tonight?”

  My taste buds frown at the idea, but I don’t let Lex know that. “Of course I’d eat it.”

  “Wow. You’ve grown up in the year I’ve been gone.” He looks over my head to speak to Logan. “The Aspen I remember would rather miss a meal than eat something that wasn’t to her picky taste.”

  “Oh, so now I’m picky?”

  “The pickiest.”

  “You’re rude.”

  “And you’re picky.” Lex grins.

  Logan laughs, drawing my gaze.

  Seeing my questioning brow, he states, “You two act like a real brother and sister. I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed such a thing before.”

  “What? Really?” I ask. “Never?”

  Logan shakes his head. “I don’t have siblings, and most of my childhood was spent hanging around other kids at political functions. Needless to say, we all had to be on our best behavior. There was no patience for sibling arguments.”

  Sympathy fills me. Logan’s childhood sounds miserable. Not as miserable as losing your mom and growing up on the streets… but still miserable.

  “That stinks,” I offer lamely, not sure what else to say.

  “Yes,” Logan agrees. “But I don’t lose any sleep over it.” He offers me a smile, and I’m drawn in by the lighthearted expression.

  “Here we are,” Morty breaks my momentary daze. Thank goodness, too. Otherwise, I don’t know how long I would have been mesmerized by my mentor’s handsome face and charming smile.

  Thick iron gates swing open
and Morty guides the Mercedes to the front of the house. The driver hops out with the engine running, hurrying to open Lex’s door before he has the chance to do so himself.

  “Thank you, Morty,” Lex tells the man as he steps out.

  “My pleasure, Mr. Van der Klay.”

  I accept Morty’s extended hand. Once on my feet, I give him a grin and use my favorite nickname, “Thanks, Mort.”

  He chuckles. “You are very welcome, and Happy Early Birthday, Miss Van der Klay.”

  “Thank you,” my grin grows. “I appreciate it.”

  Morty nods, then looks back to the sedan as Logan climbs out. “It was an honor driving you this evening, Guardian Hendricks.” Morty might be a driver, but he’s still a member of Shadowguard society. He knows who Logan’s dad is.

  I once asked Morty why he decided not to become a Guardian. He’d attended St. Henry’s, an academy located in rural Pennsylvania. At the age of fifteen, I couldn’t understand why anyone would go through the trouble of completing training at an academy to not become one of the fighters on the front line, ridding the world of demons.

  Thankfully, the middle-aged man hadn’t been offended by my question. He’d kindly explained how he’d sustained a nasty leg injury during his last semester at school—an injury which prevented him from passing the physical exam all Guardians are required to complete in order to be hired by the Shadowguard.

  I’m ashamed to admit that until I heard that story, I hadn’t noticed how Morty limps when walking. From that point on, I made a point to be more observant of the people the Van der Klays had working in the house.

  “Thank you, Sir,” Logan returns with a respectful dip of his head. Morty returns the gesture, then bids us farewell before sliding back into the car and driving away.

  Lex waits for us at the top of the stone steps in front of the entrance. When we catch up, he reaches for the doorbell. The tall door swings open before he can press the button.

  I’d expected Mr. Kurtis, the butler, to greet us. But it’s Vivian’s bright blue eyes and blonde hair that fill my view.

  “My children!” She rushes forward in precariously high stilettos, pulling both Lex and I in for a hug with each arm.

  “Ooof,” Lex grunts. “Not so tight, Mom. You’re going to wrinkle my shirt.”

  “You and that dumb shirt,” I mumble.

  “It is so nice to have you both home,” Vivian completely ignores both of us, tightening her hold for another second before releasing us. “The house has been so quiet without you.” Her eyes begin to water.

  Thankfully, the moisture disappears when Vivian remembers we have company. “Guardian Hendricks, it’s nice to see you again.” I’m sure I’m not the only one who sees her tense.

  The last time Vivian and Logan were around each other, he’d volunteered to draw an extraction sigil on me. It’s a painful and horrible process, meant to ensure I wasn’t under demonic influence after coming in contact with a higher demon. Or it should’ve been painful.

  Thankfully, Belial hadn’t used demon magic on me, so the extraction sigil was nothing more than glowing lines and curves traced over my forearm.

  “Mrs. Van der Klay,” Logan returns her greeting. “Please, call me Logan. And thank you for inviting me to dinner this evening. I’m happy to be here.” Either Logan means what he says, or he’s good at putting on a polite face. I’m not sure which is more likely.

  Dare I hope it may be both?

  “We’re glad to have you,” Vivian replies, slightly more relaxed. “Now, if you’ll all follow me. Chef hasn’t finished the meal, but we can have drinks in the parlor.” Vivian spins around and leads us inside the house without so much as a wobble. No matter how agile I become, I doubt I’ll ever be able to master high heels with as much grace as my foster mother.

  We walk inside. I take in the familiar marble floor and vaulted ceiling, admiring the shiny surfaces that fill me with a sense of warmth.

  It’s funny—I spent the past year dying to escape this very house and begin my new, exciting life as an academy student and future Guardian. But after everything that’s happened—after coming face to face with demons and seeing the kind of evil that exists in the world with my own two eyes, I won’t lie and say I don’t miss the security I found in the Van der Klay home.

  My short time away has convinced me the place I once viewed as a beautiful prison is really a safe haven. No matter what, I know I can always return to this house and that I’ll be welcome. And safe.

  We follow Vivian across the house wordlessly. Warmth from the fireplace hits me as I step into the parlor. I inhale the scent of burning wood. I love that smell. It reminds me of the times my mom would light the fire pit beside our apartment complex’s pool. We’d sit out there and roast marshmallows, listening to the sound of the city as we relaxed after a long week of school and work.

  For once, the memory of my mom doesn’t fill me with sadness. I enjoy the memory. It’s nice to remember a happy time without feeling the usual stab of pain at her loss.

  “Your home is magnificent, Mrs. Van der Klay,” Logan states. A quick glance reveals he’s admiring the family portrait hanging above the fire’s mantle.

  I cringe, noting the pale pink sweater and frilly white blouse Vivian had coerced me into wearing for the photo.

  The picture was taken shortly after I joined the family. I think it was Vivian’s way of trying to help me feel like a part of the family. I hadn’t felt overly comfortable with the Van der Klays at that point, hence the fact I’m wearing the girlish ensemble.

  Fast forward to six months after that day, and there’s no way I would’ve agreed to the outfit. I’d already obtained my favorite leather jacket at that point, and I have no doubt I would’ve tried to negotiate wearing it for the picture. What can I say? I like the jacket.

  Speaking of leather jackets, I slip out of the very same jacket and hang it on the coat rack located just behind the parlor’s door.

  “Thank you very much, Logan,” Vivian replies. “Tell me, how is your mother. I have not seen Lynne in so long.”

  I turn my head, unable to hide my curiosity. This is the first I’m hearing about Logan’s mother. Call me morbid, but I’d kind of expected her to not be alive. Otherwise, I figured I would’ve heard people talk about her. After all, she is the Head Minister’s wife.

  “My mother is well, thank you for asking,” Logan answers quickly. “I will tell her you asked about her the next time we speak.”

  “Please do.” Vivian smiles. She’s definitely warming up to my mentor. “Would you like a drink? My husband as a fine collection of scotch and whisky.” She moves toward the wet bar on the other side of the room.

  “Any whisky is fine,” Logan answers, surprising me.

  “I didn’t know you drink.”

  “I imagine there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he grins, almost teasingly. I ignore the flutters in my stomach.

  “Here you go, dear.” Vivian returns, holding a crystal tumbler out to Logan.

  He takes the drink and sips the warm brown liquid. “Ah,” he lowers the glass. “That is very good.”

  “I should hope so,” Vivian says good-naturedly. “My husband certainly insists on paying a pretty penny for it.” She glides back to the bar to pour a glass of red wine.

  It strikes me then just how normal and easy this is. I never would’ve thought I’d be so relaxed having my mentor interacting with my family, but I am. There’s nothing awkward or tense about this at all. I’m relieved.

  “Aspen? Lex? Do either of you want a glass of wine?”

  “Me?” My eyes widen.

  Vivian smiles. “Yes, you, birthday girl.” She gives me a wink. “It’s not against the law to drink with your parents.”

  I don’t know enough about liquor laws to know if that’s true.

  “Heck yeah,” Lex responds eagerly. “I’ll have some of that whisky.”

  Vivian obliges, pulling another crystal tumbler from the bar’s cabin
et and pouring her son a drink.

  “Aspen?”

  “Uh…” I really don’t know what to say. “Sure. I’ll take wine.” I would choke if I tried to drink whisky. The potent smell of Logan’s drink tickles my nose even from a distance.

  Vivian holds out the brown tumbler to Lex, who crosses the room to retrieve it. Then, she pours a second glass of wine and brings both over to our group, holding one out to me.

  Raising her glass, Vivian cheers, “To Aspen.” She taps her wine glass to mine.

  “To Aspen!” Lex hollers enthusiastically. His drink sloshes, almost spilling over the edge, as he copies his mom and taps my glass. I chuckle at his panic.

  “To Aspen,” Logan repeats, locking eyes with me as our glasses touch. Suddenly, I’m frozen in place. I watch him withdraw his hand, bringing the glass to his lips, and taking a sip. The entire time, his gaze stays on me. He doesn’t so much as blink.

  Lex coughs roughly. “Ugh, that burns.”

  Jolted back into my senses, I immediately tear my eyes away only to find my attention snagged by another.

  Vivian is giving me a curious look, her eyes flickering between me and Logan.

  Crap. What did she see?

  Vivian clears her throat delicately, then sips her wine. “Remind me, Logan, how old are you?”

  Ugh. No!

  I know that look. It’s the same look Vivian got after I told her about my first, and only, date.

  She’d tried to play it cool, but there’s no denying she gave my date the third degree when he picked me up.

  “I’m twenty-two,” Logan answers. If he’s wondering why Vivian asked the seemingly random question, he doesn’t show it.

  “The same age as Alexander’s mentor,” Vivian comments.

  “Yes, we graduated the academy the same year. We’re only a couple of months apart in age.”

  “Are you two friends?”

  “Mom,” Lex objects. “What does it matter? My and Aspen’s mentors don’t need to be friends.”

  Vivian doesn’t back down. “It’s a simple question, Alexander. Don’t be rude.” She returns her expectant expression back to Logan.