Demon Guard Page 7
I think he will exit the office without seeing me, but his eyes land on me at the last second. Instantly, his frown disappears, replaced by a flirtatious smile I, and every other young woman he’s ever met, know all too well. “Aspen Van der Klay?”
I rise off the couch and tip my head in greeting. “Guardian Legrand.”
“I was wondering when I’d get the honor of running into you.” He crosses the room and stands in front of me with a hand held out. “Congratulations on being accepted to St. Michael’s. Though, I wasn’t surprised when Lex told me the news. I’ve seen your fighting skills. Between that and your name, this school would be a fool to not admit you,” he finishes with a wink.
I shake his hand, and I nearly jump out of my skin when he bends down and places a swift kiss against my knuckles. I rip my hand away the moment his lips break away. Andrew’s eyes shine with amusement.
“Thank you, Guardian Legrand.” I emphasize his title, hoping it will deter the over-the-top flirting I’d been subjected to this past Fourth of July—the last time I saw Lex’s mentor. It’d only been two months ago, but things were vastly different now. I’m a student at the academy, and he’s a mentor. The law may not frown on a relationship between us. Seventeen was, after all, the legal age of consent in the state of New York. But the Shadowguard Council and community would not be pleased to learn a mentor openly flirted with a student. His behavior could be innocent, but it would certainly raise eyebrows. And I’m not interested in garnering that sort of attention.
Andrew smirks and tucks his hands behind his back. “You’re very welcome, Miss Van der Klay.”
I fight the urge to smile.
Andrew Legrand is your quintessential player. All the girls know it. It might make someone wonder why anyone would fall for his antics after knowing the truth. But that someone must’ve never been subjected to his grin or gleaming eyes. Thank God I’m not easily tricked by a pretty face and kind words. Not totally anyway.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, eager to lessen the tension building between us.
“Mentor business,” he answers without hesitation. Again, he winks. “Too classified to confide in a student, no matter how pretty she may be.”
I roll my eyes. Hard.
“Miss Van der Klay.”
Andrew and I turn and see Headmistress Meyer standing in her doorframe. She doesn’t look mad, but she’s not exactly smiling either. “You may come in now.” She spins on her modest heel and disappears into the office.
“You best get in there before she loses her patience.” Andrew shudders dramatically. “I’ll see you later.” It’s his turn to disappear.
Left alone, I quickly enter the office. Headmistress Meyer waits expectantly, her hands crossed on the desk. She lifts one and gestures to the same seat I’d used during my admission interview.
My butt has barely touched the leather cushion when she says, “Miss Van der Klay, thank you for coming to see me so promptly.”
Did I really have a choice?
“Of course, ma’am.”
“I trust you have enjoyed your first two days at the academy.” There’s a curious gleam in her gaze. I wonder if she’s thinking about the fuss Vivian made over my dorm’s yellow walls. The thought makes my cheeks heat.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” She dips her chin. “Well, I don’t wish to keep you longer than necessary. I called you to my office to let you know that your mentor, Guardian Hendricks, has been delayed. He will not arrive in time to join you for your first training session this afternoon.”
I can’t hide my surprise. Is that really why she called me in? Couldn’t she have just written that in a note?
Headmistress Meyer watches me. She’s waiting for a response.
“Thank you for telling me. Do you know when he will be arriving?” I ask, pretending I hadn’t been eavesdropping moments ago.
“With any luck, Guardian Hendricks will be here by Thursday.”
I nod. That’s not so bad. He will only miss one training session. I won’t suffer from missing one meeting with my mentor. I’m already a strong fighter.
“Thank you for the information.” I stand. Headmistress Meyer’s attention has already shifted away from me. She’s reading a piece of paper she pulled from a pile on her desk.
“One more thing, Miss Van der Klay.” She speaks without looking up. I halt in an awkward half-standing position.
“Ma’am?”
She locks me in her serious gaze. “I wanted to warn you. Your last name will not gain you any special treatment at St. Michael’s. I advise you not to expect such things.”
I would’ve been less shocked if she hit me in the face with the paper in her hand. What would make her think I’d expect special treatment? The thought is both embarrassing and irritating.
I stand up straight and roll back my shoulders. “I would never.”
Her eyes gleam, and I swear the corner of her lips twitch. “I’m glad to hear it. Now, go enjoy the rest of your day. I suspect you won’t have another afternoon free for some time. Guardian Hendricks is a tough one.” With that, her eyes return to the paper in her hands and I’m dismissed.
I leave the office with conflicting emotions, but I shove them aside. I decide to take her advice to heart. I’ll enjoy this afternoon off by exploring the academy. There’s a library in the main wing, and all the books about Guardians, both past and present, are in there. What better place to try and find out about my mom?
Eight
“I honestly didn’t expect you to show,” Peter says between bites of the green apple gripped in his hand. We sit in the cafeteria, at the table farthest away from the entrance and buffet lines. My growling stomach had decided my exploration of the library could wait until I ate lunch. “I was positive you’d be packing your bags by now.”
I swallow the sip of water I’d just taken and clear my throat. “What’s with you thinking I’m not going to finish the academy?” That’s the second time he’s joked about it.
“I don’t know.” He waves his fingers my direction. “It’s something about your vibe. I get the impression you don’t do rules. St. Michael’s is bound to annoy you at some point.”
He’s wrong. All I’ve wanted since learning who I am is the chance to fulfill my destiny and become a member of the Shadowguard. Leaving would ruin that for me.
“Yeah, well, don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.” I’m determined to be the best Guardian the Shadowguard has ever seen, and I plan on figuring out the truth about my mom in the process.
Peter holds up his hands, still chewing on his latest bite. “No offense intended, girl…” He swallows the last bit of the apple. “I, personally, like the boss vibe you give off. The way you mean mug the ditzy trio makes me want to applaud every time I see it.” He’s talking about Lauren, Fiona, and Erin.
“I do not mean mug them.”
“Hey, guys,” Cortney greets warmly, placing her tray on the table. She slips into the seat next to mine. The lunch hour is almost over. I am about to ask what kept her so long when Cortney says, “Who is Aspen mean mugging?”
“The three witches of St. Michael’s,” Peter replies nonchalantly.
“Ah.” Cortney nods. She knows exactly who he’s talking about.
I shake my head. “Stop it guys. I don’t mean mug them. I don’t care about them. As long as they keep their distance, I don’t have a problem with them.”
“That’s unlikely,” Cortney says regretfully. “Especially after you declined their offer to hang out at the welcoming banquet.”
Peter laughs and slaps his hand on the table, rattling our trays and catching the attention of the group at the table closest to us. “I wish I would’ve stuck around to see that.”
Nothing I say will change what they think. I pick up my turkey sandwich and take a big bite, hoping my silence will make them change the subject.
“So why did Headmistress Meyer want to see you today if not to kick you out?�
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“Headmistress Meyer wanted to see you!?” Cortney asks, sounding a little panicked. My roommate has grown a little attached to me in the two short days we’ve lived together. She doesn’t want me to get kicked out. I don’t find the thought as irritating as I would’ve expected.
“It was nothing. She just told me my mentor won’t be here today. I’ll have to wait until Thursday to meet him.”
“Who’s your mentor?” Peter asks, then shoves a grape into his mouth. Vegetables and fruit cover his plate, accompanied by some type of lunchmeat for protein.
I sip water to wash down the bread lodged in my mouth. I don’t have the same aversion to carbs as my newest guy friend. Once I’m sure I can speak without showing any masticated food, I say, “Guardian Hendricks.”
Peter’s eyes grow as wide as saucers. “Minister Hendricks’s son?”
“That’s the one.”
“Woah,” he leans back in his chair with a dazed expression. “That’s like… the cream of the crop as far as mentors go. I heard Minister Hendricks didn’t even want his son to come back to St. Michael’s as a mentor, but the council forced the issue. You’re crazy lucky to be assigned to him.”
Great. Just what I need: a mentor who really doesn’t want to be a mentor. Whatever. I’ll survive.
“Why wouldn’t the minister want his son be a mentor?” Cortney asks with a frown. “There are so few available nowadays. Surely, Minister Hendricks would want his son to help educate the next generation.”
“I assume it has something to do with wanting his son to have more experience on actual Guardian missions,” I provide.
All mentors are full-fledged and active Guardians. They work for the council by fighting rogue lesser demons and neutralizing mundane and higher demons. In between those jobs, they train their mentees at the academies. As you might imagine, the role forces mentors to stay close to the academies, which can often hinder what missions they are selected for. As the minister’s son, Guardian Hendricks undoubtedly has his choice of which high-profile missions he can join. Mentoring a novice isn’t nearly as exciting or noteworthy.
Cortney shakes her head. “That hardly seems fair.”
“Ah, sweet Cortney Elms,” Peter feigns a dramatic sigh. “So innocent. So pure. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but life is often not fair. The elites get all of the perks, while us lay people must content ourselves with their scraps.”
I scoff. “Lay people? You’re a freaking Michael,” I remind him. “If anyone is elite, it’s you.”
Peter waves a dismissive hand. “Nah. My daddy dearest has practically disowned me. He lets me keep associating with his name because he fears how it will look otherwise, but he’s hardly out there, trying to get the best mentors or training for me. Everything I’ve accomplished outside of name recognition has been all me, baby.”
It’s my turn to frown. “What could make your father disown you?” I realize, too late, that the question might be considered rude.
Luckily, Peter appears unaffected. “I’m gay.”
A beat of silence passes.
Then, both Cortney and I say, “Oh.”
I wouldn’t have known if he didn’t tell me. I take in his stylish hair with fresh eyes.
“I can’t believe your father objects to that in this day and age,” Cortney states with genuine disbelief.
I nod my agreement. Seriously, I thought the days of shunning family members for their romantic preferences were over, and that it only happened in the most repressive and religiously strict societies. The Shadowguard has roots in religion, but we’re hardly religious nowadays. We all believe in God, but we don’t worship Him or any religious texts. Demonology and Sigils are our areas of study.
“Alas, the world is not so rosy,” Peter replies, then shrugs. “It’s not a big deal. I can’t say I really want to follow in my old man’s footsteps anyway. He’s all about politics. Manipulating, negotiating, and backroom deals aren’t really my forte.”
I understand what he means. I see the effects of Charles’s political ambitions on the Van der Klay family. Not only does he work all the time, but the pressure put on Vivian to be the perfect wife and Lex to be the prodigal son is intense. I’m lucky all that’s asked of me is to not break the law and become a Guardian.
A bell rings. Peter, not missing a beat, dons a wide smile. “Well, dear Cortney, that’s our cue. Time for me to meet my second-rate mentor and for you to go to class while our friend gets to roam free like the wild spirit she is.”
I roll my eyes. I have no idea what makes Peter think of me that way, but I’m not going to waste my breath arguing.
Cortney shoves down the rest of her sandwich with impressive speed. She grabs the bottle of water off her tray and tucks it under her arm to consume later.
“See you back at the dorm,” she calls over her shoulder as she follows Peter, dumping the rest of her food into the garbage on her way out. I lift a hand and watch them go. My eyes graze over the rest of the cafeteria. I’m the only person sitting on my own.
But you’re not alone, I remind myself.
Believe it or not, I seem to have made two real friends here. Not to mention, I have Lex. He’s annoying as hell, and he can be a real thorn in my side, but he’s still my closest friend in this life. I consider going to seek him out with my free time, but remember I saw his mentor in the headmistress’s office. If Lex doesn’t have class, then Guardian Legrand will, no doubt, keep him busy with afternoon training. Maybe he will even get to go on a scouting mission soon.
I sigh with envy. I can’t wait to finish my first year and actually be able to go on missions with full-fledged Guardians. Just the thought of creeping through the night, using my sigil and combat skills on evil creatures fills my veins with adrenaline.
Soon.
Soon, I will gain access to my Shadowguard magic.
Soon, I will be able to master all aspects of being a Guardian.
Soon, I will smite my enemies.
Nine
I’m walking through the main building, back on track to find the library and search for information about my mother. My tennis shoes sink into the plush carpet as I walk down the halls. I’d abandoned my school uniform after lunch. I’m wearing familiar skinny jeans and a loose gray V-neck, and I revel in their comfort.
“Aspen?” I turn and see Trevor Walsh, Lex’s best friend, at the other end of the hall. For a second, I panic, as if I’ve been caught breaking the rules. But I quickly shake away the emotion. I’m not doing anything wrong.
“H-hi,” I greet somewhat awkwardly. I hadn’t anticipated running into anyone. “What are you doing here?” Shouldn’t he be training with his mentor like Lex?
Trevor holds up a leather-bound book and slowly walks towards me, his toned body shifting underneath his white dress shirt. “Research,” he replies, “Per my mentor’s request.”
Interested, I lean forward and try to read the title. “What are you researching?”
“Ah,” he hesitates. A pale pink color rises in his cheeks. “Nothing too exciting. Just Assessor stuff.”
Assessor? As in, the compatibility assessor?
All Shadowguard academies employ someone for the position. An assessor’s job is to meet with every student during their time at the academy. We’re interviewed and advised on two things.
Number one: what type of Guardian role best suits our strengths. Not all of us go out to the streets and fight demons. Some of us show an aptitude for secret intelligence, healing, education, and a whole bunch of other things. Our society has use for everything, but most students only want to become the badass demon-fighting Guardian.
And the second thing we are assessed for: a compatible mate. That’s right. The Shadowguard is so interested in the strength of our kind that they actually try to determine which young Guardians will produce the most powerful and superior children together. The goal being to ensure our continued dominance over demons. It’s a completely barbaric practice, and a
total invasion of privacy. Fortunately, the Shadowguard doesn’t actually force anyone to get together, if you know what I mean. All an assessor does is provide a list of compatible romantic partners to every Guardian, and it’s up to that Guardian if they go searching for those individuals or not.
The sad thing is, most do. Especially the elites. Money and power, that’s the language of the upper tier of Shadowguard society. They don’t hesitate to act on any intel that could help them climb the social ladder.
“Oh… cool.” The awkwardness kicks up a notch.
“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be meeting with your mentor?”
I straighten. “How’d you know my schedule?”
“All first years have the same schedule,” he says.
What he says is half-true. All first-year students have the same classes, but our schedules vary depending on which group we’re in. Had Lex told him I’m in Group B? He must have. There’s no other way Trevor would know my schedule.
I consider pressing the issue, but I’m not interested in making this situation any more awkward. The air is thick enough with the stifling emotion as it is. “My mentor isn’t here yet. I have the afternoon to myself.”
Trevor tucks his free hand into his pocket. “That’s cool. What’re you planning to do with your free time?”
What’s the harm in telling him the truth?
“Funny enough, I was looking for the library,” I admit. “Can you point me in the right direction?”
“Definitely… I mean, sure.” He coughs, then jabs a thumb over his shoulder. “It’s that way. Want me to show you?”
Having no interest in risking getting lost again, I say, “That’d be great.”
So, that’s how I pick up a tour guide.
We walk in silence, turning down two halls before we arrive at the library’s wide, double set doors. The school’s twisting insignia is carved in the wood. My eyes are absentmindedly trailing over the markings as my guide grabs the sturdy iron ring and opens the door. I walk inside, followed shortly by Trevor. He pulls the doors closed behind us.