Demon Guard

by Samantha Britt

  “Oomph.” I crash into a solid body. Together, we tumble onto the littered pavement. We roll twice, then stop with me lying underneath. I look up and blink several times before I see it’s Logan who’s caught me. His enhanced speed remains in full effect.

  Dark tendrils of hair hang from his head. I brush them away as they fall into my eyes.

  “Are you alright?” he asks, his concern evident.

  “Yes…” I assess my body. “I’m fine.”

  Logan stares at me for several seconds, then gives a gruff nod. “Good.” He shoves himself up and holds out a hand.

  I take it and let him help me stand. Once my feet are sturdy beneath me, Logan drops my hand like it’s on fire.

  Instinctively, my eyes swing up to the roof of the shed. No evidence of Belial’s presence remains. Unless you count the dissipating cloud of black smoke left in his wake.

  “Aspen.” Master Donohue speaks, sounding remorseful. I know why when he continues, “I can only imagine what circumstances led to you being taken captive by a higher demon, but it is my duty as a Guardian to ask… what happened? What did the demon want? Did he tell you anything important about his plans or motives of his fellow demons?” He motions toward the fallen mundanes littering the ground.

  I don’t want to do this right now. I want to bask in the fact we all escaped this situation unscathed. Sure, we have cuts and bruises, but no Guardians died today. Partly thanks to Belial’s help, but I’m not about to say that to the others.

  But no matter how much I wish it could be otherwise, I can’t delay this. The Guardians of the Shadowguard need to know what they’re dealing with. And it’s my duty to tell the truth.

  “I don’t know what he planned,” I tell my instructor while the rest of the Guardians lean in with blatant interest. There will be no secrets here.

  I sigh, resigned to the impending outburst as I reveal, “But I do know he’s an original demon. His name is Belial.”

  Then, as expected, the Guardians erupt.

  Twenty-Six

  Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack.

  The Head Minister’s secretary types away on her keyboard, unaware or uncaring that Logan and I stand awkwardly at the threshold of the office. I eye the fancy room and the quiet guy next to me. We both wear the same dark clothes from the scouting mission. My outfit is a little dirty from falling on the ground, but otherwise unmarred. The same can’t be said for Logan’s.

  After revealing Belial’s identity, Master Donohue ordered Logan and me immediately taken back to the academy to give our official reports. The Council would want every single detail of the day’s events, and even the most miniscule fact would be subject to scrutiny. It’s not every day Guardians encounter a higher demon and leave the meeting with zero losses of life. And it’s even rarer to come face to face with an original higher demon and live to tell the tale.

  We were in route to St. Michael’s when the instructor got a call, diverting us to midtown Manhattan.

  I’ve never been to a Shadowguard headquarters. There are five in the States, and less than a dozen worldwide. Only high-ranking Guardians and Shadowguard officials have offices in the buildings. The New York location is where the leader of our kind, Head Minister Hendricks, runs the show.

  Our society’s leader will not wait to hear about our experience from a secondhand source. No, we will be debriefing the mission directly to him. My stomach twists just thinking about it.

  The secretary has yet to acknowledge our presence, and Logan’s done waiting. “Hello, Susan.”

  The middle-aged woman looks up from her computer screen, blinking several times before recognition dawns. “Mr. Hendricks. My apologies. I didn’t see you standing there. Please come in.” The secretary, Susan, rushes out from behind her desk and gestures for us to follow her into an empty conference room.

  “Would you like anything to drink? Tea? Water?”

  “No. Thank you, Susan,” Logan replies politely.

  “Of course.” Her attention swings to me.

  “I’m okay.”

  She nods, then looks back to Logan. “Your father is finishing a meeting with the regional leader in Europe, but he shouldn’t be much longer.”

  “No worries, Susan. I know how it goes.” Logan sits in one of the plush office chairs surrounding an oval table. He leans back and kicks up his feet, resting them on the table, after Susan closes the door behind her.

  I chew my lip, debating where I should sit. Deciding I don’t want to have my back to the door when the Head Minister comes in, I walk behind Logan’s chair and take a seat on the other side of the table. It puts us face to face. Logan raises an eyebrow about my seat selection, but he doesn’t say anything. He crosses his hands over his stomach and closes his eyes.

  Minutes pass. A thousand thoughts are running through my head as I relive the events at the junkyard over and over again. I’m determined to give a thorough report.

  “Relax,” Logan interrupts. He opens his eyes and pins me with a vibrant stare.

  “Easy for you to say. The Head Minister is your dad, but this is the first time I’m meeting him. I want to make a good impression.”

  Logan shakes his head. “Trust me, relaxing is the best thing you could do in this situation. My father is abrasive and blunt. If you overthink your responses, this debriefing will turn into an interrogation.”

  I snort. “Is that supposed to inspire me to relax?” Talk about a horrible pep talk.

  Logan chuckles low. “It’s meant to encourage you not to overthink this meeting. When he asks a question, give your answer and say nothing more. That’s how you will make a good impression.”

  I contemplate the suggestion, and decide it has merit. After all, who knows the man in charge better than his son? “All right… thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” Once again, Logan closes his eyes, looking completely relaxed and at home in the empty conference room.

  I debate letting the silence resume between us, but now that Logan’s said more than five words to me, I’m more inclined to ask him the questions that keep playing in my mind.

  “Logan,” I clear my throat. It’s suddenly dry.

  He cracks one eyelid to look at me. “Aspen.”

  I take a deep breath. “What happened at the warehouse? Did you find the missing Guardians?”

  In the blink of an eye, a shadow falls over my mentor’s face. Darkness haunts his eyes, and I immediately regret the question.

  “I did,” he tells me.

  I’m prepared to let the subject drop. I can tell from his expression that he doesn’t have good news to share.

  But Logan continues without me asking. “The Guardians were alive, but it was too late for them. They’d already been tainted by mundane venom. They were set to turn.”

  My hand flies to my mouth to smother my gasp. “The demons—” I struggle to voice the question. It’s terrifying. “The demons are abducting Guardians on purpose? They’re really trying to turn them into demons?”

  “Not trying,” Logan says ominously. “They’re succeeding.”

  Oh my god.

  “Are you certain?” I can’t help but ask.

  Demons turning Guardians?

  I’ve never heard of such a thing.

  To be tainted by a mundane is rare. If a Guardian doesn’t reach healers in time to remove the poison, they are given an honorable death. No Guardian would want to turn into the monsters they despise. They gladly accept a soul-saving death as opposed to becoming a murderous demon.

  “Yes, I’m certain,” exhaustion surrounds the words. For the first time, I see his fatigue. Whatever happened at the warehouse, it’s taken its toll on him.

  “How?”

  “Yes, son.” The door opens, preceding the two words. “How do you know?” Head Minister Hendricks enters the room.

  I’m frozen in place for only one second before I’m on my feet, tipping my head in a respectful bow. “Head Minister.”

  Logan doesn’t stand. He
doesn’t even lower his feet to the ground.

  “Aspen Van der Klay,” the Head Minister greets approvingly. I lift my chin and see his personable smile. “While it’s regretful we meet under these circumstances, I am glad to finally have the chance to speak with Logan’s first ever mentee. And one from such a prominent family, at that. I do hope you are working hard at St. Michael’s, and that Logan is proving to be a knowledgeable and supportive mentor.”

  The sassy part of me wants to call out Logan’s rough mentoring style, but I don’t dare. Besides, I remember Logan’s face when he saw me captured in Belial’s grip. He’d been worried for me, and I know he would’ve done everything he could’ve to help me.

  “Thank you, Head Minister.” I nod again. “I’m glad to have Logan as my mentor.” And I mean it.

  The head minister dips his chin in acknowledgement, then his attention returns to his son. “Logan, aren’t you going to say hello to your father?”

  “Hello, Father.” His greeting is devoid of emotion. Call me crazy, but I’m getting the sense Logan doesn’t like his father very much.

  Head Minister Hendricks doesn’t react. He walks around the table and sits at the head spot. “Please, don’t let me interrupt your conversation.” He waves a hand for Logan to continue. “You were just about to explain how you know the demons are not only intentionally poisoning Guardians, but also purposefully doing so in order to transition them into demons.” It’s obvious from his tone that he doesn’t share his son’s belief about the demons’ plans.

  Logan tenses, and I see the muscle in his jaw flickers as he clenches his teeth. Suddenly, I’m wishing I wasn’t part of this conversation.

  “Because I saw the Guardians,” he grinds out. “They were alive, thrown into cages, while the demons waited for their transition to be complete.”

  “The Guardians could’ve just been prisoners,” his father points out. “Prisoners who were bitten or scratched with venom during a fight with the demons.”

  “Since when do mundanes take prisoners?” Logan retorts.

  “Since when do mundanes intentionally turn Guardians into demons?” his father counters evenly.

  Logan shakes his head angrily. “Father, I know what I saw.”

  “I’m sure you think so, my boy. But the mind is known to play radical tricks when under duress.”

  “I wasn’t under duress—”

  “Logan,” Head Minister Hendricks barks the name with a silencing note. I grip the armrest of my chair. “You are my son, but I will not sit back and let you propagate this horrible rumor. It will only incite fear and mistrust. The Shadowguard cannot let that happen.”

  Logan stills. “Are you threatening me?” The question, itself, comes out threateningly. I wish I could retract back into my seat and completely disappear from view. I shouldn’t be privy to this conversation. If I were brave, I’d slip out my seat and seek sanctuary in the hall. But I’m too uneasy to risk drawing either of the men’s attention.

  “Of course not, my boy,” the Head Minister replies with a fake, magnanimous smile. “But I am warning you, the Shadowguard will not sit back and let you rile up the masses with your unfounded claims.”

  “They aren’t unfounded.” Logan slams his hand on the table, making me jump. “I saw the Guardians with red eyes. I used my silver sword to kill them. With their dying breath, they thanked me, Father. The prisoners knew what was happening to them. They saw mercy in their death.”

  My blood runs cold as I think about Logan being forced to kill his fellow Guardians. He did it to save them from a horrible fate, but it couldn’t have been easy. My heart goes out to my mentor and the dreadful task he’d had to complete today.

  “Silence, you fool,” his father growls menacingly. “You will never, ever say you murdered Guardians again. Do you understand?”

  “It wasn’t murder—”

  “DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” The Head Minister’s face splotches with angry red marks. The vein in his neck throbs.

  Logan meets his father’s gaze, gritting his teeth. Seconds pass. I think I’m about to witness an all-out brawl, but Logan eventually mutters, “I understand.”

  “Good. And you?” Fury-filled eyes swing to me. I visibly shrink under the Head Minister’s glare. “You will not say a word about my son’s misspoken words, or I will see to it that you will have no future in Shadowguard society. No job. No connections. Nothing.”

  My throat runs dry, shocked and appalled by the hateful threats lobbed at me.

  His glare weighs heavy on me. I force myself to choke out, “I-I understand.”

  The Head Minister rises. “Good. Then we’re agreed.” He smooths his hair with a hand, once again donning a false smile. All evidence of his irritation is gone.

  “I am glad to see you both survived the day’s turn of events relatively unscathed. It’s quite shocking that you encountered mundanes while on your scouting mission. Your ability to remain calm and handle the situation speaks volumes of you both.” His political smile shifts to me. “Miss Van der Klay, I’m certain I will see many great things from you as you progress through your studies.”

  Normally, I’d thank the leader for the compliment, but I can’t forget the threatening man from moments ago. I can only stare up at him with a cautious expression.

  If he’s bothered by my silence, he doesn’t show it. “I give you both leave to return to the academy. Thank you for your debriefing. I’ll share the details of the report with the council, and I’ll send you the summary. Please refrain from discussing the matter with anyone else. If your instructors or headmistress try to insist, tell them to speak with me.”

  I blink, confused. We didn’t debrief him. We hardly said anything at all.

  What does the Head Minister plan to say to the council? And what was the point of coming here in the first place?

  Head Minister Hendricks doesn’t wait for a response. He strides out of the conference room with his head held high, like a man who knows he’s powerful, and that he is untouchable.

  The moment the door closes, Logan’s legs swing to the ground. He takes two long steps across the room and then punches a hole in the wall.

  “Logan!” I cry out. “What are you doing?”

  He punches another hole, acting like he can’t hear me.

  I don’t know if its stupidity or concern, but I find myself scrambling out of my seat and rushing to his side. I catch Logan’s elbow just as he rears back for another blow.

  He whirls on me, ripping his arm out of my hold. “What are you doing?”

  My mouth falls open. “What am I doing? … What are you doing? Why are you punching holes in the wall?”

  Logan flexes his fingers, then curls them into fists. “I… I don’t know. I want to piss my dad off.”

  “Why?”

  He snorts. “You aren’t seriously asking me that.”

  I cross my arms, refusing to be put off by his dismissive attitude. There’s an underlying cause of his behavior, and I want to learn what it is. “Yes, I am asking you that. Why do you want to piss off your dad?”

  “Were you not listening to him?” He throws an arm toward the conference table. “Don’t you know what just happened?”

  I cross my arms defensively. “Explain it to me.”

  His eyes flash. “My father just put a muzzle on us, Aspen. We stumbled on a demon operation and have proof they’re abducting Guardians and keeping them for a purpose, but my father refuses to act. He’s going to sweep this under the rug and paint the picture of a random, demon attack on an innocuous scouting mission.”

  “But Master Donohue and Andrew were there… they saw Belial. It’s obvious it wasn’t just your everyday demon encounter.”

  “Do you think either of them will go against the Head Minister’s report?” Logan questions with a growl. “Do you think any Guardian would go against him?”

  “But why?” I exhale. “Why would your father want to keep it a secret? This is huge. If demons are really trying t
o change Guardians, it means death and violence for us all.”

  My chest clenches as I think about all the Guardians currently on missions. How many of them will be taken by demons and have no idea what’s in store?

  Logan’s head hangs low. “It’s just what my father said. He doesn’t want to incite panic. He’s worried how Guardians will react if they learn the truth. Demons could be creating powerful and evil fighting machines who will turn against us Guardians, but he won’t admit the truth until absolutely forced.”

  “But that’s not right!” I almost shout. How could the leader of the Shadowguard willingly leave people in the dark? It’s … so wrong.

  “I know, but there’s nothing we can do about it. Not if I want to have a prominent career in the Shadowguard and you want to be a Guardian.”

  I take a steadying breath, rebelling against the idea that one man gets to make such an impactful decision. Surely, the council he oversees has some power over the Shadowguard’s ultimate decisions.

  “A higher demon held me captive,” I try, once again, to find a logical way out of this predicament. “Everyone saw him.”

  Logan sighs. It’s a resigned, defeated sound. “I’m sure my father will spin a web of pretty lies and appropriate bribes to come up with a palatable explanation for that as well.”

  “But that’s ridiculous. And wrong. And I won’t stand for it.” I stomp my foot for emphasis.

  “There’s nothing we can do.” He shrugs, slumps down into the nearest chair, and stares at the floor.

  My eyes narrow, and disbelief gives way to anger. “I didn’t take you for a quitter, Logan Hendricks.”

  His head snaps up, meeting my feisty glare with one that matches my intensity.

  In a controlled, though treacherously edgy tone, he says, “Tell me, Aspen Van der Klay, what do you propose I do? I’m a Guardian barely out of the academy. Nepotism affords me the best missions and assignments, aside from being saddled as a mentor.” I flinch at the not-so-subtle insult. Logan continues, too lost in his own thoughts to even notice. “I have it made, but I’m far from reaching my ultimate goal. I cannot afford to make the leader of the Shadowguard my enemy, and neither can you. We need to fall in line. And that’s the reality.”