Daemons in the Mist (The Marked Ones Trilogy: Book One)

by Vancil, Alicia Kat

  “Your boobs are way too big for you to be a gymnast. Martial Arts was the only thing I could think of,” she answered with a shrug.

  “Right,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  I looked around, everyone else on the busy street had continued on their way paying us no mind. Well almost everyone. Patrick—who had apparently been walking down the street behind us—just stared at me, his mouth hanging open just a bit and his eyes wide with surprise. I would have thought he was following us if it wasn’t for the fact that the mall was at the end of the street.

  “Oh frak, he totally saw that,” I cursed, turning back around quickly.

  “Who?” Nikki asked, looking around.

  “Patrick.”

  Nikki looked over my shoulder completely failing at nonchalant. “Yeah, most likely.”

  We came out of the dress shop, our dresses for the Winter Ball in hand. With a slightly self-satisfied smile, I imagined the look on Patrick’s face when he saw me in the dress. It was going to be priceless.

  Nikki stopped and looked in her purse. “Frak! I left my phone in the store; I’ll be right back, ‘kay?”

  As she dashed off back toward the dress shop, I looked around. We had stopped in front of a jewelry kiosk, so I looked through their displays to kill some time.

  While I was examining one of the necklaces, the kiosk girl asked, “Can I help you with anything, miss?”

  I looked up to answer her, but stopped. Michael was standing about a hundred feet behind her, looking around.

  Great, just great.

  “No I’m good,” I replied as I dropped down and pretended to tie my boot. The girl looked at me suspiciously but said nothing. I looked around for a place to hide; a bookstore stood a short distance away.

  Perfect!

  I chanced a quick glance in Michael’s direction. He was looking the other way. I took a deep breath and walked as quickly to the bookstore as I could without attracting too much unwanted attention. I really did not want to have to deal with Michael, especially outside of school where he was less likely to get in trouble for harassing me. The boy just didn’t seem to understand the word “over.”

  I reached the bookstore and quickly stepped behind a front display shelf. I would be fine as long as he didn’t come in here. I took another deep breath and peered over the top of the shelf into the mall common area.

  “Is he bothering you again?” someone asked quietly from behind me.

  I jerked up with a start. I whipped my head around and was met with kind brown eyes. I knew those eyes.

  Patrick?

  “What, are you following me or something?” It sounded just a tad bit rude, but honestly it had just popped out of my mouth.

  “No, actually I come here nearly every day.” He smirked at me in a friendly way. “You sure you’re not following me?”

  I opened my mouth to say something, but caught sight of Michael looking in our direction. I grabbed Patrick’s hoodie and crouched down behind the short shelf of books. He looked at me, raising an eyebrow. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “Yes he’s bothering me,” I answered, peeking around the corner of the bookcase.

  After a minute or so of silence Patrick asked, “What’s in the bag?”

  I turned my head quickly back toward him, meeting his eyes and almost wished I hadn’t. His eyes were the type of brown that was nearly black; deep pools that looked like they would swallow me if I looked too long.

  I realized I had been holding my breath and let it out in an audible puff. “Huh?”

  “The bag,” Patrick said as he pointed at the dress bag next to me.

  I looked down at it then back up at him. “A dress.”

  “Is it the one you’re going to wear to the dance?” he asked as he peered a little closer at the bag.

  “Yeah,” I answered cautiously.

  “Can I see it?”

  “No, I want it to be a surprise,” I answered, scooting away from him to get a better look outside the window. Michael was still standing just outside the store and seemed to be having a heated conversation with someone on the other end of the phone.

  Come on Michael go check out the food court or the theater, anything that gets me out of here without running into you.

  “What does he want anyways?” Patrick asked, leaning over me to peer around the bookcase.

  “Me,” I replied without pulling my eyes from the window.

  “Well I can see why,” Patrick said matter-of-factly.

  That got my attention; I turned quickly around to face him. “Excuse me?”

  Patrick’s expression looked queasy—pained even—like he hadn’t meant for the words to actually be spoken out loud. “Oh wow, that sounded way stalkerish didn’t it?”

  “Yeah, just a bit. But it’s okay; no one really says nice things like that to me.”

  “Really? I would think guys would be falling all over themselves to tell you you’re pretty.”

  “You might think that, but you’d be wrong.” I chanced a peek around the shelf again; Michael was still talking on the phone but had moved a few feet farther away. “I think I make them nervous,” I said in a small voice.

  “Oh I can definitely understand that,” Patrick said with a slight smile in his voice.

  I turned back to face him. “Do I make you nervous?” He stared at me open mouthed like he was unsure of what he should say. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “Okay, you do—a little—okay, a lot. It’s just that—” Patrick stammered, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

  “Can I help you two with something?” someone asked from behind us.

  I looked up to see a very bored, college aged guy, staring down at us over a stack of books in his hands. “Um…” I looked out the window again in time to see Michael going down the escalator. “Nope we’re good.” I stood up, grabbed Patrick’s hand, and walked quickly to the exit.

  Patrick let me drag him for several feet before he asked, “So by our quick escape I’m guessing Michael’s gone somewhere else?”

  “You would be correct.”

  I whipped out my phone and quickly texted Nikki as I walked. Looking up every few seconds to make sure I didn’t run into anyone.

  Please have found your phone by now Nikki.

  Michael’s here want to get out of town?

  I wove around a pack of stroller moms but didn’t lessen my pace. I hoped Patrick wouldn’t think I was a complete lunatic, but after what he had seen happen between Michael and me this week, I kinda doubted he would. But still somehow what he thought of me mattered, maybe a little more than it should.

  My phone buzzed and I looked down at it again.

  Sure I’ll call Shawn & tell him to pick us up out front k.

  It was then that I realized I was still dragging Patrick through the mall. I stopped and turned a little too suddenly, his hand still in mine. Unable to stop his momentum, he ran straight into me, and we crashed to the floor.

  Sigh. Sometimes I forgot just how much slower human reactions were to ours.

  Patrick looked at me in horror—his legs straddling my hips— before he quickly got back to his feet.

  I just had to smile at him because he looked so embarrassed even though it was completely my fault. “Wanna get out of here?” I asked, broadening my smile.

  After a short pause his lips slid into a grin, and he offered his hand to me. “Sure, why not.”

  Once back on my feet, we all but sprinted to the exit.

  7

  Dreaming Out Loud

  Friday, January 13th

  PATRICK

  When Nualla had asked if I wanted to get out of here, I hadn’t considered that she had meant to another state. Which was why it had come as a total
shock when I found myself standing near a ticket counter in SFO staring at Nualla as she watched the flight information flash across the screens.

  After our daring escape from the mall, we had blazed a trail out of the city and down 101 to the SFO Airport. I was so caught up in the laughter of diving into a car just as Michael came out the mall doors after us that I didn’t even notice we were going to the airport. I actually got all the way into the terminal before I even acknowledged anything other than I was with Nualla and we weren’t at school. Even when I finally looked around and saw where we were I thought it was a joke, until I remembered I was with a bunch of super rich kids. Out of town to them meant something completely different.

  But I was already in too deep by this point and I really didn’t want to bail. I just prayed that they would at least keep it in the country because I didn’t actually have a passport. As I fidgeted nervously I silently calculated how much money I had in my bank account. I really didn’t want to have to look like a dork for being too broke to buy my ticket to the crazy place they were planning to run off to.

  “So where are we going cuz?” Nikki asked Nualla, who was still staring up at the flight board.

  “Wherever has a flight leaving first,” Nualla answered without looking away from the board.

  Nikki raised an eyebrow. “We running from something?”

  Parents. Homework. Nualla’s stalker punk. Life. Any one of these things seemed like perfectly logical things to run from.

  Nualla eyed me covertly. “Naw, the fun is in the surprise.” She whipped her head back around to look at the board causing her hair to fling out just like in a movie.

  God she’s beautiful.

  How the hell had I gotten so lucky to end up here with them—with her? Maybe I had been hit by a bus and I was in a coma, dreaming, or dead. Naw, as unbelievable as this all was, I knew it was reality because, A: my fantasies weren’t this delusional, and B: I had absolutely no idea what the inside of an airport looked like in real life—well until now.

  While I was contemplating my sanity and luck, Nualla had apparently made her decision because she walked over to the ticket counter to purchase our tickets.

  Shawn looked up at the flight board. “My money’s on New York.”

  “Hawaii,” Nikki chimed in cheerfully.

  “LA,” I guessed without even looking.

  Nualla returned a few minutes later holding four tickets and thrust them toward us. “Vegas,” she said with finality.

  I don’t know why I had been so cocky in the bookstore. I never thought I would be saying those things to her; not even in my wildest dreams. Maybe that was why I had said it; my brain was convinced I was dreaming. You really can’t fuck up in a dream, so what’s to lose, right? Is what was running through my head as I waited for the girls to change from their school uniforms into normal clothes.

  I leaned against the wall and let my head fall back, letting out a deep breath.

  “Sorry I didn’t bring you anything dude, Nikki didn’t mention you would be coming,” Shawn said, apologetically.

  I looked at him with a half-smile. He was much taller than me—like Connor, somewhere in the 6’1” to 6’4” range. Though unlike Connor, Shawn wasn’t wiry like a runner; he had the broad shoulders and a solid build of a warrior with a sharply planed face like a cheetah. A tangle of wavy blond hair roughly the same shade of blond as Nikki’s, spilled over his forehead nearly to his eyes and curled over the tops of his ears.

  “Don’t worry about it; I don’t think she even knew I was coming.”

  Shawn cocked his head to one side and smiled a crooked smile at me. “You’re playing it cool, but you’re scared shitless aren’t you?”

  “Is it that obvious?” I asked, with a self-deprecating smile.

  “Naw, if you weren’t scared I’d know you were a conceited wank.”

  “What?” I said, nearly choking.

  “The biggest pricks act all smooth in front of girls because they think they’re the shit. You, on the other hand…”

  “Ah. But you seem calm, what’s that say about you?”

  “Me? Well, I’ve known those two my whole life. They know about all the stupid shit I’ve ever done. Hard to be nervous anymore at that point,” Shawn answered, looking into the distance.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

  “Look, don’t worry about it so much. Just relax,” he advised, looking back at me with a smile.

  “Easy for you to say,” I said, running my hand through my hair.

  “Just think about it like hanging out with friends after school, nothing serious.”

  “I really don’t hang out with my friends that much after school. Honestly, most of the time I’m alone.”

  “Dude seriously? That’s really sad.”

  “Yeah I know,” I agreed, leaning my head back against the wall again. I don’t know why I was being so honest about how truly lame I was; it wasn’t going to help me.

  “But I really can’t say I’m much better. I mostly hang out with those two girls. Can’t remember ever having many guy friends,” Shawn admitted, folding his arms across his chest.

  “I’d be your friend,” I blurted out without giving it much thought.

  Wow did I really just say that out loud? God he probably thinks I’m even lamer now than he did before.

  “Really? Coolness, friendship accepted,” Shawn said, with a huge grin.

  Wait, what?

  But I really didn’t have time to think about it long because something hit me in the chest. I looked down at the floor at some clothes that had apparently been thrown at me.

  “Nualla, you’re supposed to say ‘think fast’ before you do that, not just throw things at people,” Shawn said as he pushed away from the wall.

  “What are these?” I asked, bending down to pick up the clothing.

  “They’re clothes silly. You didn’t think we would really make you go to Vegas in your Bayside Academy uniform did you?”

  Actually that’s completely what I had thought, but thanks for having a higher opinion of me than I do.

  I looked at the clothes again; they were super stylish designer casual and probably cost a small fortune since we were at an airport. “Thanks. How much were they, I’ll pay you back,” I said, looking up.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Nualla said with a broad smile. “Think of it as payment for letting me kidnap you this weekend.”

  “Okay, then how much were the tickets?”

  “Don’t kidnappers usually pay for the transportation of the kidnapped?” Nualla asked as she leaned in closer—dangerously closer.

  “Um…yeah, but really I can’t just—”

  “Patrick, you’re never going to win this so just give up,” Shawn said, nudging me.

  “Okay,” I said uneasily.

  “Now go change, our plane’s gonna start boarding soon,” Nualla said with a smile as she pushed me toward the restrooms.

  I took a few steps then stopped. Wait, weekend?

  8

  Raise Your Glass

  Friday, January 13th

  PATRICK

  Vegas was…shiny. That was really the only word for it. I honestly didn’t think I had ever seen so many lights in my life. It seemed like they basically lit up every inch of the city they possibly could. Their power bills must have been astronomical. It felt like we had entered a theme park for adults. I just couldn’t help but stare out the window as we passed a pyramid, castle, and even the Statue of Liberty. I had seen this place a lot of times on TV, but it just didn’t do it justice.

  I didn’t ask where we were going, and honestly, I didn’t even notice where we were until a bouncer asked for ID’s.

  Crap!

  I didn’t have a fake ID. I turne
d to Nualla to mention this, but without missing a beat she handed the bouncer four ID’s and smiled. He looked at them for a second looking a little dazed. I thought we were screwed at that point; any second he was going to call the cops. I mean that’s what they did when minors tried to get into nightclubs, right? But to my utter disbelief he handed the ID’s back to her and stepped aside to let us pass.

  Just inside the door a smiling hostess took our bags and handed all of us little keychain key cards.

  “What’s this?” I asked, looking at it questioningly.

  “It’s your Eclipse card; it tracks your drink purchases, so you don’t have to carry around your belongings while you’re here,” the hostess answered, with a cheery smile.

  “Really?” I said, examining the card more closely. “That’s awesome.”

  “Just tap it here and press your thumb in the sensor,” she said as she gestured to a machine beside her. “Oh, and please don’t lose it, or we will be forced to charge you the maximum limit.”

  “Oh really, what’s that?” I asked as I pressed my thumb against the reader.

  “You really don’t want to know,” Nualla said, pushing me gently away from the door.

  “Enjoy your night, Miss Galathea,” the hostess called behind us.

  I wondered just how many times you had to come to a place like this before they remembered your name.

  Being that I was in highschool and had obviously never been to a club before, I only had movies and episodes of CSI to go from. I was pretty sure most clubs didn’t actually look like the ones on TV; however, this one totally did.

  Light up dance floors, multiple levels, swirling flashing lights, music you could feel through your body. Oh, and swarms of people, pressed together; their bodies pulsing with the music. I tried not to gape at it all like an idiot as we wove through the crowds of people to an empty table.