“Do you want to sit?” I gesture to the chairs in front of where he stands.
Without a word, Logan takes a seat. He continues to watch me warily.
“Well, you wanted to talk,” I begin, wanting to get this conversation over with.
“Yes,” Logan leans back in his seat. “I do.”
He doesn’t continue.
“So,” I prompt, feeling a little impatient. “What do you want to talk about?”
“I think you are perfectly aware of what I want to talk about.”
“Teresa?” I say his fiancée’s name, proud of how even my voice sounds.
He inhales through his nostrils. “Yes, she is part of it.”
I nod. “Well, before you say anything, let me tell you everything is fine. I was upset at first, but I’m okay now. I’m over it.”
The wary gleam in his eyes intensifies. “You’re over it?”
“Yes.”
“Even though you believe I lied to you.”
Underneath the table, I press my hands together. “You didn’t exactly lie. I never asked if you were engaged.” Not that I would’ve ever thought I needed to ask such a question, but that’s neither here nor there.
Logan frowns. “Why are you acting this way?”
“What way?”
“Like you don’t care?”
It’s my turn to frown. “What do you want me to do, Logan? Cry? Shout? Ask you a hundred questions? Sorry to disappoint you, but I have bigger problems than to fixate on your love life and try to understand why you did what you did.”
Seriously, what does he want from me? Wasn’t it enough to play with my feelings? Why does he want to drag this out? It’s cruel.
Through clenched teeth, he says, “I would settle on you asking just one question.”
“Oh, yeah?” I scoff, crossing my arms. “Then tell me, what question do you want me to ask?”
Logan leans forward, resting his forearms on the table as he pierces me with an intense stare. “If it’s true.”
I blink, confused. “What?”
“Ask me if it’s true,” Logan repeats. “Ask if I’m truly engaged to Teresa.”
Uncertainty flickers through me. I press my lips together, debating the merits of going along with whatever it is he has planned.
Ultimately, I concede. “Fine. Are you really engaged to Teresa?”
He takes a deep breath. “Yes.”
I throw my hands in the air and exhale, exasperated. “Seriously, Logan? What are you—”
“But,” Logan continues, interrupting my impending rant. “It’s not what you think. Teresa and I are friends. We’ve known each other since childhood, but we are not in a relationship.”
I scowl. “Except you just confirmed you are engaged.”
Logan’s head falls forward. In a quiet voice, he mutters, “I know this is confusing.” His gaze focuses on his hands. “And it’s hard to explain.”
“Well, I suggest you try.” I’m about ten seconds from walking out of this library.
He nods. “During our first year at the academy, the assessor matched me and Teresa. We thought it was funny. Neither of us thought about pursuing it.” He laces his fingers together, and his skin turns white as he grips his hands together. “Until her father came back from his ambassadorship in Europe.”
Logan looks up. Anger fills his eyes. “Ambassador Rosterson is a cruel drunk and abusive husband and father. I was at Teresa’s house for an early Easter dinner when he came home drunk, and I witnessed his violence firsthand.”
My chest tightens. I’d seen the evidence such violence can cause when I first found the twins in Chicago. Nora and Noah were covered with fresh and old cuts and bruises, curtesy of their terrible parents. I can’t imagine how shocking it would’ve been to witness such cruelty in person.
“I got Teresa out of there that night, but I knew she’d have to go back eventually.” Once again, Logan hangs his head. The burdens in his mind are too heavy to bear. “Then I had an idea.” He stops speaking.
I think I know where he’s going with this. “You agreed to match with Teresa,” I say. “To protect her from her dad.”
He takes a deep breath. “Yes. As my fiancée, the spotlight naturally fell on Teresa more than ever. Ambassador Rosterson knew he couldn’t beat on his daughter anymore, not when there was a chance someone might notice her injuries. He didn’t want to risk his reputation.” He closes his eyes. “Unfortunately, the spotlight that saved her is the same thing that marked her as Azazel’s target.”
I prop my elbows on the table. My forehead falls into my hands. “Oh God, Logan.”
“I didn’t know at the time, but Teresa was abducted because of her connection to me. It wasn’t until I raided my father’s office that I found evidence of Azazel’s blackmail. He’s abducted countless Guardians, transforming some into demons while holding the others hostage, all to make sure my father doesn’t interfere with his plans.”
My hands fall from my face. I sit up straight. “Where is the evidence?”
“The letters remain in my father’s possession.”
What?!
“Are you kidding, Logan? Why didn’t you take them? You could’ve released them to the public. Guardians deserve to know what their head minister is doing.”
“At the time, I needed my father to continue to trust me,” Logan explains. “If those letters would’ve gone missing, I would’ve been his number one suspect.”
“What about now?” I press. “You’re hiding out here in an original demon’s safe house. You must know your father will doubt you once he learns where you are and who you are with. Where are the letters now?”
“The decision to come here was made quickly. I didn’t have time to gather the evidence.”
I scoff, then lean back, distrust evident in my response, “How convenient.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Sure it is.”
Logan’s eyes narrow. “Why don’t you trust me?”
I laugh in disbelief. “Are you seriously asking me that?”
His nostrils flare. “I’m not lying to you, Aspen.”
“Well, you will have to forgive me for not believing you. You know what they say. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…” I let him finish the rest of the phrase on his own.
“Aspen,” Logan sighs. He rubs his forehead, looking like he is close to losing his patience. “I am not lying. You need to trust me.”
“I don’t need to do anything,” I counter, finally losing a little of my calm façade as anger rises within me. I feel my power swelling in response to my emotions as well. I take three deep breaths and lure it back down.
“Yes, you do,” Logan counters. “You need to listen to me and believe me.”
“Oh, yeah?” I ask, tauntingly. “Please, tell me why I should listen to you after you’ve proven you are untrustworthy, manipulative, and—”
Logan doesn’t even let me finish.
He jumps to his feet and slams his palms down on the table—hard.
“Because I’m your soulmate, Aspen. And you freaking know it.”
Chapter Twelve
My heart beats like a snare drum. It feels seconds away from giving out entirely.
“What—” I have to stop and swallow back the shock threatening to choke me. I feel lightheaded. I rest my hands on the chair’s armrests to steady myself.
I try again. “What did you just say?”
Logan’s stare is unwavering. “I said I’m your soulmate, Aspen. It’s not Belial like you believe. It’s me.”
Before I can even begin to process what he’s said, Logan rounds the table and falls to one knee beside me. I stare down at him with shock and dread. I think he’s going to reach for me, but he thrusts his forearm into my vision instead.
I take in the sight of his Shadowmark. The dark double-infinity-like symbol stares up at me. My mind races. There was a time when I wondered if there was any significance behind us having matching Sh
adowmarks. But that time has passed. I chalked it up to nothing more than a coincidence.
Except, with the way Logan is looking at me, I’m beginning to suspect that’s not really the case.
Logan continues to watch me, waiting for a response.
I kind of wish Ladros was in here.
I clear my throat. “Why are you showing me your Shadowmark?”
“Because it’s proof.”
“Proof of what?”
He releases an incredulous snort. “Proof that what I say is true. You and I have matching Shadowmarks.”
“So? We’ve always had matching marks.”
Logan pulls his phone from his back pocket. He scrolls through the device, then shoves it under my nose. “Read this. It’s from one of the earliest Guardian texts.”
I’m hesitant to take the phone from him, but the determined set of his jaw tells me he’s not going to take no for an answer.
I turn my chair, take the phone, and bring it to my face. A picture of a yellowed page fills the screen. I use my thumb and forefinger to zoom in. The handwriting is curvy and difficult to read, but I get the gist as I scan the text.
My mouth goes dry as I reach the end of the page. I look up at Logan, not bothering to hide my doubt. “I don’t believe it.”
“Why not?”
I gape at him. “Because if this were true, it would be common knowledge. Assessors wouldn’t try to match academy students based on personality traits or family connections. They would search for future Guardians who have matching Shadowmarks.”
The information I just read says God creates Guardians in male and female pairs. Their magic is meant to complement one another, making them formidable opponents to the demons we were created to destroy. The historical text states a Guardian can find his or her complement by searching for the one with a matching Shadowmark.
“But don’t you see why it’s not common knowledge?” Logan presses, leaning forward, nearly touching my leg. “Everything about Shadowguard society has become so political. Everyone uses the assessors’ matches to create strong family alliances, keeping certain families in power. Those Guardians wouldn’t want their children to align with someone from a lower Guardian house just because they share a Shadowmark. It doesn’t fit in with their agenda.”
I hate to acknowledge what he says makes sense. The highest levels of Shadowguard society drip with elitism. But that doesn’t mean I’m one hundred percent swayed.
“Nothing on that page says anything about soulmates,” I point out. “It just says complements.”
“Aspen.” He gives me a familiar, no-nonsense look. I received it often when we trained together at the academy. “Why else would the pairs be male and female?”
“I don’t know… to try and give females an advantage? We aren’t as physically strong as guys. Creating a complementary pair could give them an edge.” It’s a weak idea, and we both know it.
Logan shakes his head with a sigh. “You’re in denial.”
“And I think you are too quick to jump to the soulmate conclusion,” I counter.
“Are you really going to deny the connection you feel, or felt, for me?” He asks, peering into my eyes, daring me to lie.
“No,” I answer honestly. “I’m not. I liked you, Logan. That’s not a secret. But not every guy I like has to be my mythical soulmate.” Seriously, is there any other woman on the planet having to deal with this kind of thing right now? If so, I’d like to meet her and compare notes.
His nostrils flare. “So I can’t be your soulmate, but Belial can?”
I throw my hands in the air. “It’s not a competition, Logan!”
“It sure feels like one.”
I narrow my eyes. “I’m not the one who is engaged, Logan. I know you explained it’s not romantic, but you’re still promised to someone. Stop trying to make me feel bad because I’m not jumping for joy at the thought of another complication to our relationship.”
“You view this as a complication.”
“Yes!”
“Why?”
I tilt my head back and look at the ceiling, breathing deep, trying to get my thoughts in order. I feel like I’m talking in circles. I’ve never known Logan to be this stubborn, and I’m not sure how to handle this situation.
“Where did you even find that book?” I ask, hopeful the question will steer our conversation onto a more cooperative path.
“Andrew,” he answers. “His grandfather gave it to him. He has countless historical texts, and offered me access when I was searching for ways to help you out of your arrangement with Belial.”
I decide not to comment on “my arrangement with Belial”.
I’m not surprised the book came from Andrew’s gamily. The Legrand family are known history buffs, and Andrew is the reason I figured out my connection to Belial in the first place. At the time, I’d been completely floored. But now that I know the history between Belial, Hermona, and my mother, I’m less shaken by the news. Dare I say, I’ve come to accept it.
Now, I just need to figure out what accepting it actually means…
One problem at a time, Aspen.
I take deep breath and lower my head to meet Logan’s stare. “All right, Logan. I will admit there is a chance our shared Shadowmark means something.
“But,” I hold up my hand, stopping him as he opens his mouth to speak, “I’m not sure it will change anything.”
Logan’s eyes darken. “What do you mean? It changes everything.”
No, it really doesn’t.
“Regardless what our marks do or do not mean, I’m still on Azazel’s most wanted list. I’m no longer under the protection of the Shadowguard. Hell, I bet some Guardians even think I’m a traitor. We need to focus on taking down Azazel and saving the Shadowguard and humanity from ruin. Nothing else matters right now.”
Logan leans back on his heels as if my words physically shove him. He looks lost.
Part of me feels bad, but the other part of me wishes he would see what I say is true.
I don’t know when my feelings for Logan changed. Hearing about his fiancée was certainly a blow, but I don’t even think that’s what did it. He’d coordinated with the Shadowguard to infiltrate Belial’s house. Though I don’t blame him for what happened next, he did play a role in making me accessible to Azazel.
At some point, I’d abandoned the romantic hopes I once held for me and Logan. But it’s been a process; it didn’t happen overnight.
I’m sure that information wouldn’t lessen the blow for Logan—especially not when he’s latched onto this latest revelation about our Shadowmarks—but I’m honestly shocked by the intensity of Logan’s conviction. I didn’t think he held real or true feelings for me, but he’s certainly acting like it.
Maybe I wouldn’t have been so quick to abandon my feelings for him if I’d known. But, like I’ve said, there are bigger things to worry about right now. Much bigger things.
“What about Belial?” Logan’s question drags me from my thoughts. He’s on his feet now, peering down at me with arms crossed over his chest.
I tilt my head back and remind myself to be careful what I say. “What about him?”
“Do you believe he is your soulmate.” His eyes swirl with emotion.
Be careful.
I keep my voice even. “I believe he was Hermona’s soulmate.”
“But you believe you are her reincarnation,” Logan presses. He refuses to let me slide out of this conversation gracefully.
I take a deep breath.
What can I say?
There’s no point lying.
I’ve shared Hermona’s memories. There’s no longer any doubt in my mind that I am connected to the first female Guardian.
“Yes, Logan. From what I’ve learned and experienced, I believe I am Hermona’s reincarnation.”
It takes everything in my power not to shrink away from saying the words out loud. They sound so awkward. But I know Logan needs to hear me say them.
That’s when I lose it.
I slide the chair back and get to my feet. Straightening my spine, I give him my best glare. “I didn’t ask for any of this, Logan, and I don’t appreciate you trying to make me feel like shit over things that are out of my control.”
“You let yourself rely on an original demon for help,” he snaps. “That is in your control.”
“What did you want me to do?” My voice elevates with my anger. “Azazel’s been searching for me my entire life. Once he figured out who I was, he came after me. He’s proven the academy couldn’t withstand an attack from his minions. Was I supposed to sit there, being scrutinized by the Shadowguard, until he finally found a way to get to me?”
Sure, hiding out in Belial’s mansion wasn’t my first choice to keep me safe, but I didn’t have a lot of options. And it’s not like Logan openly objected to the arrangement in the beginning. In fact, he’d ghosted. I barely heard from him during that period of time.
He has no right to judge me for doing what needed to be done. Absolutely no right.
“You weren’t supposed to put yourself at the mercy of a different original demon just to save yourself from another,” Logan states, as if what he’s saying is the most logical thing in the world.
“Ugh! Are you even listening to me?” I want to reach out and shake some sense into him.
“Oh, I’m listening,” he snarls. “You’ve accepted an original demon as your soulmate, but you won’t accept me. I got it.”
I want to pull my hair out.
All patience flees from my body.
“At least Belial doesn’t dive into petty, jealous rants when he doesn’t get his way!” I shout, unable to control myself any longer. “And at least he doesn’t pressure me into admitting anything I’m not ready to say!”
For weeks—months, really—Belial has been at my side, ensuring my safety at all times, but he’s never pressured me to discuss anything about us. The most he’s done is inform me the time is coming where we will need to actually talk about our connection. But, even then, he’s patient with me even though I know it can’t be easy.
Demon War: Shadowguard Academy Book 4 Page 8