Demon Marked: Shadowguard Academy Book 2

by Samantha Britt

  Did I say that this wasn’t awkward?

  I spoke to soon.

  To his credit, Logan maintains his composure. “Yes, Andrew and I are friends.”

  “How nice!” Vivian grins. “Maybe you two could pair up training sessions so Lex and Aspen can work together.”

  “Mom…”

  “Vivian…”

  Both Lex and I whine with objection.

  “Fine. Fine.” She shakes her head. “Message received. You want me to stop meddling in your life.”

  Lex and I laugh, hearing the playful exasperation in her tone. Even Logan cracks a smile.

  But the levity of the room dissipates the moment someone else enters the room.

  “Dinner is served,” a quiet girl I’ve never met tells Vivian. She looks barely older than me with wide brown eyes and a tiny, pert nose.

  “Excellent. Thank you, Nicole.” Vivian dismisses the maid kindly. The girl looks all to happy duck out of sight.

  “Who was that, Mom?” Lex asks, staring after Nicole’s retreating figure.

  “Morty’s daughter,” Vivian returns, then gives her son a pointed look. “Stay away from her.”

  “Me? Why?”

  “Because, my dear, you are a flirt. And Nicole is a nice young woman trying to earn money to help pay for her tuition to an academy. I’d rather you not bother her in the process.”

  I tilt my head down and snicker. Lex has always been a lady’s man. The girls at our high school hadn’t stood a chance against his charming smile and impressive physique. Not that I ever share those compliments with him. He broke many ordinary human hearts before leaving for St. Michael’s, and it’s nice to hear Vivian call him out on his roguish behavior.

  Lex rears back in mock outrage. “I only asked to be nice!”

  “Sure, honey.” Vivian pats his shoulder kindly. “Come. Let’s move into the dining room. Your father is still on his phone call, but we can start without him if he takes much longer.”

  With that, Vivian glides out of the room without a backward glance. Lex looks after her, then turns to me with an incredulous expression. “Can you believe she called me a flirt?”

  I smirk. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

  “Ugh. You know, I miss when you and Mom were never on the same side.” He’s referencing my first few years at their home, when I did little more than speak the bare minimum to everyone except Lex.

  “I’m sure you do.” I copy Vivian and pat his shoulder, but mine is more teasing than consoling. “Come on, Lex. I can’t let you out of my sight. Don’t want you trying to corrupt any innocent girls along the way.”

  Lex shoves my hand away. “You’re annoying.” He stomps out of the room.

  My grin widens and I find myself seeking out Logan’s reaction to the conversation. He’s smiling softly, but that’s the only indication he’s amused.

  “Come on, Logan.” I gesture him to follow. “If you’re having a good time now, just wait until dinner. I’m sure there will be plenty of entertainment with this family.” I stride toward the exit, careful not to slosh my glass of wine.

  Over my shoulder, I hear Logan chuckle. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  Chapter Three

  We wait for Charles to leave the cloying cavern he calls an office for fifteen minutes before Vivian gives up and instructs us to begin eating. Unlike formal dinners, no one stands along the edges of the room, ready to serve us our portions. Instead, the process is more relaxed. Vivian passes along the different bowls and platters centered on the table, allowing each of us to serve ourselves. Unfortunately, pizza’s not on the menu.

  Spaghetti and meatballs coated with homemade tomato sauce piles high on my plate. Fresh basil leaves have been torn into small pieces, and I use a silver spoon to drizzle them on top of my birthday meal. I’m pretty sure Vivian would’ve ordered pizza if it had just been the family at dinner. But Logan’s presence, no doubt, motivated her to be a little more refined with the menu. Not that I mind too much. Spaghetti is the next best thing to pizza. What can I say? I love Italian food.

  I realize, too late, that eating the meal will present somewhat of a challenge. Normally, I wrap the noodles around my fork and shovel them into my mouth, uncaring if sauce finds its way to my cheeks or chin. It’s easy enough to wipe away after each bite. But tonight’s different. Logan sits across from me, and I’ll be mortified if he sees me eat like a messy animal.

  I stare at my plate, pondering how best to approach the challenging dish, when the back doors of the dining hall swing open.

  “Sorry, my dear. I didn’t realize the conversation would go so long.” Charles Van der Klay apologizes to his wife. He quickly crosses the length of the immense room with long strides but pauses behind my chair.

  He dips down and lightly kisses the top of my head. “Happy Birthday, Aspen.”

  For a moment, I’m frozen. Charles is not the affectionate type. Not normally, anyway.

  He shows Vivian a fair amount of warmth, but rarely to me or Lex.

  Charles continues on his way like the gesture is the most normal thing in the world. By the time he kisses his wife in greeting and takes a seat, I’ve regained control of my body.

  The patriarch of the family begins filling his plate, but he greets his guest casually at the same time. “Hello, Guardian Hendricks. I’m glad you were able to join us this evening. It’s an honor to have you.”

  “The honor is mine, Councilman Van der Klay,” Logan returns with well-practiced manners. “You have a lovely home.”

  “That is all thanks to my wife,” Charles gives Vivian a gentle smile. “I’m a lucky man to have her.”

  “Indeed.” Logan brings his glass to his lips and locks eyes with me, catching my stare. I offer him a weak smile then return my attention to the Van der Klays.

  “Please, don’t stop on Charles’s account,” Vivian urges us. “Enjoy your dinner.”

  Lex doesn’t hesitate. He digs in, and I’m awed by how not-messy he is.

  I, once again, prepare myself to conquer the challenge of this meal without embarrassing myself. I slide one spaghetti noodle to the side of the plate and carefully wrap it around my fork. Once I’m certain the noodle won’t slip off, I shove it into my mouth.

  A quick glance confirms no one notices my overly cautious strategy. I see Logan eating, though he’s distracted. His eyes shift from his plate to the end of the table over and over again. I follow his gaze and see Vivian has leaned close to her husband.

  “Was the conversation productive?” I pick up her murmur.

  “Hard to say,” Charles replies. “No one seems to know much of anything.”

  “I don’t believe that.” Vivian shakes her head. “Too many aren’t reporting to their superiors. Someone has to know something.”

  Breath catches in my throat, and my eyes swing back to Logan. His are illuminated with the same understanding. News of the missing Guardians is becoming more widespread, and apparently causing a greater stir. It’s only a matter of time before everyone demands answers, and Logan and I need to make sure we get evidence to prove the truth before Head Minister Hendricks can come up with a lie to feed to the public.

  “We will discuss this later,” Charles says softly. “For now, let’s enjoy dinner.”

  “Of course.” Vivian sits back in her seat. “You’re right.” Her attention slides to the rest of the table. Logan and I do a good job of acting like we heard nothing.

  Polite conversation is exchanged as we continue eating. I spend more time sipping my wine, finding it easier than trying to eat spaghetti neatly. The rest of the table doesn’t share my reservation. I watch and admire how effortless it is for Vivian to eat the meal in ladylike fashion. She makes everything look easy.

  “Alexander.” Charles wipes his mouth with a cloth napkin. “How’s your field training going? What missions has Andrew taken you on?”

  Lex goes on to describe the surveillance assignments Andrew’s been given the last month.
They’ve travelled into New Jersey and are actively monitoring a werewolf den suspected of working with human mobsters. They’ve set up stealth cameras, and they survey the den every other day in an abandoned apartment across from the den’s headquarters.

  I’m shocked to learn Lex has been leaving the state every two days and I had no idea. He eats at least one meal with me and my friends each day, often bringing along his best friend, Trevor, in the process. I’m sure Lex would’ve said something about the missions.

  I’ve been so caught up in my own life, have I really stopped paying attention to what goes on with everyone else?

  “Excellent. A Guardian’s work is ninety percent reconnaissance. Those who are quick to action make mistakes and often make poor Guardians.”

  Why do I feel like Charles’s words are meant for me as much as Lex? He hasn’t taken his attention off his son, but I swear the meaningful statement wasn’t made for the young man’s benefit.

  You’re being paranoid.

  I take a breath. Keeping secrets isn’t an easy burden to bear, and it has its effects. Namely, guilt. And I guess paranoia.

  “What about you, Aspen?” Now, Charles’s attention does shift to me. As always, the similarity between him and his son strikes me. Lex might have Vivian’s fair hair and light eyes, but his features definitely come from his father. It’s like I’m looking at Lex’s future.

  “Sir?” The Van der Klays, like most prominent Guardian families, value manners. They made sure Lex and I were well-versed in them.

  “How’s your training?” he clarifies. “I haven’t heard an update since the unfortunate turn of events during the scouting mission you spontaneously joined.” There’s an underlying criticism in the statement. When Charles’s gaze flickers to Logan, I know he blames my mentor for what happened in the junkyard. He thinks Logan wasn’t thorough in his planning if a group of demons was able to attack us right under his nose.

  Imagine if Charles knew the truth, and not the redacted lies Head Minister Hendricks released to St. Michael’s and the council.

  He’d be furious to learn that not only had Logan left me alone on that rickety shed’s roof, but the higher demon who’d showed an interest in me had made an appearance. And that Belial was an original demon.

  How Head Minister convinced the Guardians who’d arrived on the scene to keep quiet about what they saw is beyond me. I mean, it’s not every day Guardians encounter a higher demon and walk away unscathed. Belial hadn’t even lifted a finger against them. I was sure one of the Guardians would let the truth slip, but after weeks of no news breaking about what really happened, I realized it never would. Loyalty is an admirable trait shared by all Guardians, but in this case, I’d hoped for a little rebellion.

  “Councilman Van der Klay,” Logan straightens, lowering his fork to rest on his plate. “Mrs. Van der Klay. I haven’t had the chance to express my regret for the most recent predicament Aspen and I found ourselves in. I hope you will believe me when I say I will do everything in my power to ensure nothing like it ever happens again.”

  Vivian smiles, but the skin around her eyes tightens with unease. She glances between Logan and her husband. “Thank you, Logan. We trust your skill and know you will take care with our daughter’s safety. Don’t we, Charles?”

  All eyes land on the man. Unease grows in the pit of my stomach when I take in the tumultuous storm brewing in my foster father’s irises. He doesn’t answer his wife. “I don’t think it is wise for Aspen to leave St. Michael’s for the foreseeable future.”

  “What?” I cry. “But the council’s lifted the order that restricted me to school grounds!”

  It’d been part of the Head Minister’s ploy to convince Shadowguard society that everything was fine and dandy. After the junkyard incident, which only happened because Logan had snuck me off campus, Head Minister Hendricks released a statement saying he’d given his son permission to take me on the mission. He made up some bull about Belial being deemed a non-threat by some of his more senior, undercover Guardians. Due to the sensitive nature of Guardians’ secret assignments, Head Minister Hendricks regretted to inform us he couldn’t provide more detail without endangering Guardians’ lives.

  It was a well-played lie.

  But it seems Charles isn’t so easily deterred from asking questions. I wonder if this is why Charles wanted to invite Logan in the first place—to interrogate him.

  Logan meets the older man’s stare confidently and without reservation. “I understand your concerns. But once Aspen’s magic manifests, her training will include using sigils in the field. She will be required to leave the academy.”

  Charles’s hand hits the table, rattling the fancy dinnerware. “Then modify her training. That demon is still out there. I doubt he’s lost interest. It’s not safe for her to be out of the academy’s protection spells.”

  He has no idea.

  I bite my tongue, trusting Logan to handle this conversation on his own. After all, he was raised around politicians. He’ll know what to say.

  “Aspen’s goal is to become a Guardian. She can’t do that without completing her training like all other students.”

  “Other students aren’t being tracked by a higher demon.”

  My eyebrows shoot up. Charles sounds like he knows something. His lips are turned into a deep frown. He’s angry, and I don’t know if he will let this matter rest. Mr. Van der Klay has never been mean or dismissive, but I had no idea he cared about my wellbeing so much that he’d risk offending the Head Minister’s son to advocate for my safety.

  Though it would be easier if he didn’t care, the fact he does is touching.

  Logan sits back, looking far too relaxed given the tension building between him and my foster father. “Perhaps you haven’t read my father’s recent report?” He pokes at Charles’s loyalty. “His sources have confirmed the higher demon is no longer considered a threat. His interest in Aspen was nothing more than an unfortunate coincidence of timing. She’s free of him.” He couldn’t have uttered a bigger lie if he tried.

  Teeth clenched and nostrils flaring, Charles looks far from ready to abandon his cause. Reading her husband, Vivian reaches out and places a calming hand on his shoulder.

  Her persuasive eyes land on me. “Aspen, I think you should show Logan the gymnasium. Perhaps the two of you could arrange some of your lessons to take place here so we might get to see you more?” She wears a hopeful and insistent expression. While we’re gone, she will calm her husband.

  I glance at the grandfather clock at the end of the room. It’s not even eight. We have plenty of time before the clock strikes midnight.

  “Sure.” I place my napkin on top of my barely eaten dinner.

  Logan rises at the same moment I push my chair back. He dips his head respectfully to each of my foster parents then follows me out.

  The gym is attached to the back of the massive home. Logan and I don’t speak until we are inside the abandoned space. I turn and lean against the door.

  “Charles knows something,” I release the suspicion that’d been growing in my mind. “There’s no reason he’d be so persistent otherwise.”

  “Hm,” Logan hums, already in the center of the room. His fingers trail over the assortment of swords and daggers hanging on the wall. He reaches the stack of protective equipment.

  “Come on.” He tosses a pair of gloves to me. “Let’s spar.”

  “Spar?” I catch the gloves then give my skater skirt and shimmering shirt a pointed look. “Like this?”

  “We won’t grapple,” he assures me, strapping on a pair of nondescript black gloves. “Just arm work.”

  He must see my hesitation because he adds, “Trust me. It’s a great way to distract yourself.”

  I’m not sure why he thinks I want to be distracted. Then again, maybe he’s talking about himself.

  “Okay.” I shrug, making quick work of tying back my now-dry hair before donning the gloves. They fit perfectly which isn’t surprising
considering Vivian had them custom made for me when I was fifteen. I would’ve taken them to St. Michael’s if it weren’t for the fact they have hot pink accent lines and stitching… not exactly my style.

  We meet in the center of the gym. The mat’s lines match those in the academy’s gym. I look at my ballet flats. Deciding I’ll be better off without them, I kick them off and fling them behind me. Logan sees and decides he’ll forgo his shoes too. Only, he’s takes greater care with his Oxfords, walking to place them at the edge of the mat before returning to the spot in front of me.

  “I take it you’ve boxed before?” he asks, swinging his arms in wide circles.

  I roll my wrists and shake my arms, loosening them up. “Yes.”

  “Good. Basic rules apply. Only strikes above the belt count as points. First to ten.”

  “I’m assuming no knock out points?”

  Logan grins. “Unless you prefer them?”

  “I’m good.” I ignore the effect his smile has on me, focusing instead on the impending match. I’m fast which is normally an advantage, but Logan’s equally fast.

  And he has a longer reach. I’ll need to be creative if I want to score any points on him. I don’t delude myself into thinking I can actually win, but I’ll be damned if I don’t try.

  “All right. Let’s go.” Logan bumps his gloves against mine then backs up a few steps. He’s light on his feet as he moves from left to right, assessing me and waiting to see what I’ll do.

  He doesn’t have to wait long. I shuffle forward to attempt a quick jab but quickly retreat when he bends out of reach.

  He counters. His fist lands on my right ribcage, but he pulls back so the hit doesn’t hurt as much as it could. I swing out of the way before he can follow with another strike. Another hand is incoming, but I knock it out of the way and manage to make contact with his shoulder.

  We hurry apart, both of us wanting to reassess our opponent and adjust our strategy.

  “So, what makes you think Charles knows something?”

  I dodge Logan’s left punch. I don’t know if he’s trying to distract me, but I’ll show him I can multitask. My left arm blocks his second attempt, and I swing with my right. The move forces Logan back again.