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

by Vancil, Alicia Kat

  “Not often.”

  “But I’m not one of those, so why do I have one?” Patrick asked questioningly.

  “You’re a special case, but the intent is the same. You’re not a daemon yet, but you will be soon.”

  Patrick’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, I was supposed to already be a daemon by now, wasn’t I.”

  “Yeah, you were,” I said with a small smile. “This is kinda unprecedented for the most part. It must have happened at some point since there are rules and procedures for it, but I’ve never heard of it happening.”

  There was a long pause, and Patrick’s face reddened. Without looking up from his drink he asked, “Is it the same as it is for humans?”

  “What? Oh! Um—I’ve heard it’s much better,” I answered, turning equally red.

  Patrick’s eyes darted up to mine. “Really?”

  I coughed. “Yeah, we release a euphoric toxin that’s supposed to help you through the next week’s pain.”

  Patrick took a big gulp of his drink; the blush in his cheeks had not disappeared if anything it had gotten redder. “Nature thinks of everything, doesn’t it?”

  “Sure does.” I took a few more sips of my drink and looked over at Patrick’s—which was empty. I gulped the rest of mine and turned to wave down Shelby. I held up two fingers, and she nodded before heading to the bar again, which was hopping because of the free drinks.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get me drunk again,” Patrick said with a crooked smile.

  “Again? I didn’t force them down your throat before,” I said with mock outrage.

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Patrick said, looking at his empty glass. “I’m in no way a stranger to these things.”

  I smirked at him. “Neither am I.” But my smile fell when I saw his face. There was something there, a sadness that hadn’t been there before. I was debating asking if there was something bothering him, but I decided it was probably just all the stuff I had thrown at him. None of these were inconsequential schoolyard secrets. These were the life-changing kind; the dangerous kind that could get you killed if you weren’t careful.

  Shelby arrived with our next round of drinks, and Patrick looked at his for a while before looking up at me. “So if you’re a daemon, how come you look just like a normal human girl?”

  “I don’t, you just can’t see what I really look like,” I admitted as I nervously pushed a strand of hair behind my ear.

  “Why?” Patrick asked in confusion.

  “We are masters of illusion. We refract the light around us, altering your perception, so we appear to be humans like you. We can also influence you, your thoughts, ideas, emotions.”

  “Like the muses?”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Where do you think the idea of muses came from?”

  “So you can’t show me what you really look like?”

  “No I can—it’s just really hard. Our illusionary fields are second nature to us. It takes a lot of concentration to drop them.”

  “Oh,” Patrick said dejectedly.

  “I can try, it’s just—I’m afraid that you won’t like me anymore once you see what I really look like,” I confessed avoiding his eyes.

  Patrick put a hand on mine. “That’s not even a possibility.”

  I looked up into his eyes; they were warm and inviting. “Okay…I’ll show you what I really look like—just promise me you won’t bolt for the door okay?”

  18

  Your Eyes

  Friday, January 20th

  PATRICK

  “Okay…I’ll show you what I really look like—just promise me you won’t bolt for the door okay?” Nualla looked so frightened as she said it, as if she truly feared I would. I tried to speak but couldn’t find my voice, so I just nodded. She swallowed hard and squeezed her eyes shut. I looked at Nualla unblinking, so I wouldn’t miss a thing, but nothing happened.

  I began to worry. Did I miss something? And then the air around her began to shimmer and change; like a ripple in a pond, but not like it at the same time. Slowly the image of her rematerialized into focus. Two dark blue ribbed horns swirled back from just above her ears, delicate and beautiful like a gazelle.

  They were utterly captivating—that is, until she opened her eyes again. I was lost in them, their silvery blue glow drawing all of my attention as if there was nothing to look at but her. Everything around her fell away so that there was nothing but those eyes; eyes like captured moonlight. They drew you in, enticing, seductive, and luminous like a jungle cat’s. A fog crept into my brain dulling my senses to everything but them.

  I must have been staring at her like an idiot, because she finally averted her eyes. “Please say something,” Nualla said in a small voice that was almost swallowed up by the music around us.

  The minute she averted her eyes the fog in my head started to lift, and I found my voice again. “You’re beautiful…” I said, my voice trailing off as her eyes shot back up to mine.

  She apparently hadn’t been expecting me to say that; it was plainly obvious in the look on her face. “What did you say?”

  “Yes…wait—what were we talking about?” I couldn’t think straight when I looked into her eyes. Hell, I couldn’t even remember to breathe. I managed to tear my eyes away and look down at the table. “You must know how beautiful you are?”

  “Then why can’t you look at me?” she asked uneasily.

  “Your eyes—they’re so mesmerizing, I can’t think straight when I look into them.”

  “Oh!” she said, startled. “Is this better?”

  I looked back up; the mesmerizing twinkling glow had dissipated to a more tolerable amount. They were still enchanting, but not to the point where I was going to keel over from forgetting to breathe. “Yes.”

  Nualla still looked uncomfortable, but a lot less terrified. Before tonight, I had never seen her look anything other than fearlessly beautiful. She always seemed to live life like a duck in a pond, problems rolling off her back like they were nothing more than water drops.

  I reached out a tentative hand trying my hardest to keep it from shaking, fearing that if it did she would bolt like a frightened deer. Quietly I asked, “Can I touch them?”

  She moved back ever so slightly. “My horns?”

  I nodded.

  She ran her teeth over her bottom lip and looked down to the side then back up at me again. “Sure…I guess.”

  I extended my hand toward her, lightly touching the curved horns. They were very solid, no illusion there. I drew my hand across the ribbed surface then down her cheek letting it rest there. “How anyone could think of your kind as monsters is beyond me. You’re the most beautiful person I have ever seen.”

  Nualla’s eyes got a funny look in them, and she leapt at me. In any other situation when someone jumps you, panicking would be the proper response. But when a completely gorgeous girl jumps you, you just kinda go with it.

  She slid into my lap, her dress hiking dangerously high up her thigh. Something about this felt oddly familiar. Flashes of last Friday filled my mind rapidly, and I was nearly knocked senseless by their enticing caress. What did I do? was the last thing that entered my mind before her lips hit mine and erased all other thought.

  Nualla gripped my shirt and pulled me even closer as her lips pressed against mine. My hand seemed to move of its own accord as it slid up her thigh to the small of her back and pushed her even closer to me. Her kisses moved across to my face; her warm breath heavy in my ear. That set something off in my brain, and my eyes shot open.

  “Geez you two, get a room. This is a public place you know.” I looked up to see Nikki smirking at us with her hands on her hips. I had been so caught up in what we were doing I had completely forgotten where we were doing it.

 
Nualla sat bolt upright a deep red flush across her normally pale skin. Without a word, she slipped off my lap onto the booth seat. She was breathing heavily as if she had been jogging up the steep incline of Powell Street.

  “What exactly was that all about?” I asked breathlessly.

  Shawn just smiled as he folded his arms and leaned against the edge of the booth. “Well most teenagers have crazy hormones running through their bodies, but they don’t have nothing on daemons.”

  “Yeah, our hormones don’t just affect us, they affect everyone around us as well,” Nikki said, gesturing to the room with her head.

  “And when you get the two of you together, your emotions will bounce back and forth between you,” Shawn said, his smile broadening.

  “Right…now Vegas makes a lot more sense,” I said as I took a few steadying breaths. I couldn’t remember a lot about that night in Vegas, but I could remember some of the feelings.

  It suddenly felt very hot in here.

  We continued drinking at the club until way past two in the morning. I was so drunk by the time the taxi dropped me off at home I was barely able to get my front door open. I sat there stabbing my key at the door for several minutes before I was able to get it to go in.

  Finally I turned the key and pushed the door open. Letting it close behind me, I flailed against the wall for the light switch but gave up. Light would have probably done more damage than good in the state I was in, anyway.

  I took a few wobbly steps forward and stupidly tried to take my shoes off while still standing. With one shoe half off, I lost my balance and reached out to catch the counter; I succeeded only in sending a bowl of fruit flying as I crashed to the floor. “Dammit!” I cursed loudly.

  “Patrick?” I looked up slowly to see the silhouette of my mother standing in the darkness on the landing of the stairs. “Did you just get home?”

  This was not good; I had forgotten they would be coming home today, and currently I was piss-ass drunk, sitting on the floor with one shoe on, surrounded by a pile of spilt fruit. Crap, what was I going to do now? I was usually alone when I was drunk, or Connor was here and we were binging on anime. I had never actually had to pretend to be sober before.

  Since she hadn’t asked about the fruit, I decided not to bother explaining it; it would mean more talking. Talking too long just got you into more trouble.

  Okay Patrick, concentrate. It’s dark, if you don’t slur your words, she won’t notice you’re completely wasted.

  I took a deep breath and lied through my teeth. “Yeah, me and Connor went to the midnight release of Whisper.” I took another deep breath. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “Oh, okay.” She turned to go back up the stairs, and I thought I was home free, but then she turned back. “What on earth are you doing on the floor with all that fruit?”

  Crap, apparently she had noticed the mess. “Um…I was taking off my shoes, and I slipped.” I hoped it didn’t come out sounding too much like a question.

  “Oh, well you’ll clean it up, won’t you? I’m going back to sleep,” she said with a yawn.

  “Sure Mom, no problem,” I said in the steadiest voice I could.

  I waited until I heard her door close before I flopped backward onto the floor. I wished I didn’t have to get up; I really didn’t want to tempt my fate trying to walk up those stairs just now. If it had been just me here, I would have just stayed on the floor till morning. But I wasn’t alone, and for the first time in as long as I could remember, I wished I was.

  19

  Nothing Fools a Cat

  Saturday, January 21st

  PATRICK

  I stood on the sidewalk outside our townhome complex waiting for the taxi Nualla said she was going to send for me. Lots whizzed by, but none stopped.

  I leaned my head back against the wall and took a deep breath. Even with all that had happened already I was still nervous. I was going to the dance with Nualla. It was really happening. It wasn’t a dream. I knew that, but it still just didn’t feel real. Somehow, this all only ever felt real when I was with her, under the gaze of those otherworldly eyes.

  I had spent most of the day processing what I had learned last night—about Nualla, and her world. A world I would soon be joining. You would think becoming something else—something not human—would bother me; but it didn’t. If becoming one of them meant I could be with her, it was worth it.

  I pulled the ring out from under my shirt and stared at it. This small little piece of metal was all that really proved that she was real, that we were really together. It was funny that such a small little thing could mean so much.

  As I was standing there staring at the ring, a sleek black limo glided to an elegant stop. Two small deep lapis-blue flags fluttered on the hood like the kind you saw on foreign dignitaries’ cars; a silver lotus dancing across each of their surfaces.

  A black suited chauffeur stepped out and looked about the building and street. He peered at me closer, then at the corsage box in my hand. “Mr. Patrick Connolly?”

  “Yes…” I answered, looking at him suspiciously.

  “I am to transport you to the Galathea residence,” he announced as he opened the back door.

  I just gaped at him and then the limo. When Nualla had said she was sending a car I had thought she meant a taxi or even one those black town cars. Not a freakin’ limo.

  “You have got to be kidding me.” I had never been in a limo before. Hell, I had never even been in a taxi until I met Nualla.

  The driver raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

  “Uh…nothing,” I said and got into the back of the limo.

  As we cruised down Folsom to 6th I was fine, it was an area I was familiar with. But as we passed Market on to Golden Gate Avenue, it occurred to me I had absolutely no idea where Nualla lived. Over the past few years when I had pictured her in my head, it had always been of her at school. And now when I thought of her she was in the places we had been together, the mall, the club, Vegas. I had never really given much thought to where she actually lived.

  When we entered Pacific Heights, I began to get really nervous. The houses we passed on Pacific just got larger and grander. I sank lower in my seat. Just how rich was Nualla’s family?

  A few blocks down Pacific we finally stopped in front of a huge pale blue Victorian house. It towered over a stone wall covered in blue morning glories; it even had one of those circular room turrets. A gate slid open and the driver turned onto a long driveway that ran along the house.

  “Nualla lives—here?” I asked as I gaped up at the house.

  “Yes, this is one of the Galathea residences,” the driver answered as the limo came to a stop.

  “Wait! One?” I yelped, sitting bolt upright. Crap, not only was she beautiful, smart, and interesting, she was also apparently way out of my league. Now more than ever, I was certain that her family was going to hate me. I mean, what did I really have to offer?

  The driver got out of the car and came to open my door. I looked up at the house, it was massive, ornate; everything that my home wasn’t. Hell, you could probably fit my whole place in their driveway alone.

  I stood there staring at the house for a while trying to get up the courage to even knock on the door. Eventually, the driver cleared his throat, and I turned to look at him. “Not that it’s my place to say anything but—” he started.

  “No, go ahead, say whatever you want.”

  “I’ve known Nualla Galathea a long time. She’s not one to care where you’re from as long as you’re nice to her.”

  “Oh um…it’s not just that. It’s well…I’m meeting her family for the first time, and I kinda married her last week.” I wasn’t sure if Nualla would care that I was telling him or not.

  The driver all but choked. I was a
lmost positive that what I had just said was the last thing he thought I was going to say. “Oh, but you’re…”

  “You’re one of them too, aren’t you?” I asked as casually as I could. He nodded slowly. “I just found out about it all myself yesterday.”

  “Really?” he asked in disbelief.

  “Yeah,” I answered, looking back at the house.

  “Wow, tough break kid.”

  I turned to him with a slightly ironic smile. “Well for her, anything’s worth it.”

  He was quiet for a while before he spoke again. “We can stand out here all night if you want kid, but there’s a beautiful girl in there waiting for you. I wouldn’t keep her waiting too long.”

  “I know.” I took a deep breath and walked toward the inevitable future.

  A very angry face met me at the door. It belonged to a tall willowy girl with long pale blond hair, though not quite as long as Nualla’s. She looked me up and down with disapproving dark blue eyes and a scowl on her face. “Here to meet the in-laws?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest and leaning against the door frame.

  “Um…” I said like an idiot. Her hostility had caught me off-guard and the clever things I had rehearsed to say flew out the window. Great, I was making a wonderful impression already. I had hoped to impress them, or at the very least make sure they didn’t hate me. But that was already falling apart, and I had only said one word, if you could even call it that.

  “Andraya, is that Patrick?” someone called from behind her.

  I was relieved when I saw Nualla’s Aunt Skye pop up behind the girl whose name was apparently Andraya. “Hello, Ms. Varris,” I said with an uneasy smile.

  “Oh Patrick honey, call me Skye. You make me sound ancient calling me that.”