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

by Vancil, Alicia Kat

“That’s actually a really smart idea, Patrick,” Alex said approvingly as he moved closer.

  “Maybe that way, I could even invite my friends,” I said with a hopeful smile.

  “Patrick…” Nualla said in a sad voice. Something in her expression told me there was something she wasn’t telling me. “That’s not really a—”

  “We could make that work,” Alex stated.

  The two of us turned to face him. “Really?”

  “We could set up an illusion system that would only show them what we wanted them to see. You could invite whoever you wanted, really.”

  “That would be awesome!” I said with a smile, even though it was painful.

  “I’ll get Travis on it right away,” Alex said as he pulled a phone from his pocket.

  Okay, less awesome. “Um…about that?” I said, attempting to run my hand through my hair, but my cast made that nearly impossible now.

  “Hmm?” Alex said, arching an eyebrow.

  “I’m pretty sure he hates me.”

  “When did you meet Travis?” Alex asked, more than a little confused.

  “Um—”

  “It’s a really long story, let’s just go,” Nualla interrupted as she nearly pushed her family out the door.

  “Aww, come on, the long ones are the best!” Nikki whined in playful protest.

  “I’m not telling you, so move it!” Nualla said, actually pushing Nikki this time.

  “I want to hear the story,” Skye said with a grin.

  “No one’s hearing the story!” Nualla shouted back into the room.

  The rest of her family started following them out as I stood there. “If anyone cares, I’m still waiting for painkillers over here,” I called out, leaning toward the door.

  As we walked through the halls of The Embassy on our way out, I let the others get ahead of us. The halls were still busy even at this hour. “So your dad gets upset about you taking buses but not planes?” I asked, looking at Nualla.

  She shrugged. “If the plane’s going down no one’s living anyways.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right.” We walked a few more feet in silence. “You live a very protected life, don’t you?”

  “Yeah,” she answered, still looking ahead.

  “It must be very lonely.”

  There was a deep sadness behind her eyes when she looked over at me. She laced her fingers through mine and looked up into my eyes. “It was.”

  I just couldn’t take it anymore; I stopped walking and pulled her close. The drugs had worked their magic, and I could no longer feel the pain. Hell, I couldn’t feel anything. But even though I couldn’t feel her against me, just knowing she was still there was enough.

  Someone observing Nualla from the outside might think she was prissy or self-absorbed, but they would never know the truth. Never understand the lie she was forced to protect; never know how hard it was to get close to people when most of what they knew about you is a lie. But to still be able to smile and hold your head high; that—that takes a special kind of courage.

  31

  It’s Not Wise to Tease the Animals

  Tuesday, February 14th

  PATRICK

  We had arrived at Nualla’s house pretty late at night and had headed straight up to her room. I didn’t really pay much attention to what was around me or how many flights of stairs we had climbed because by then everything had started to take on a dreamlike quality; the way things looked right before you closed your eyes.

  Somewhere along the way I must have taken off my jeans, but all I was really conscious of was falling into her bed and wiggling under the covers. And I tried to fall asleep—really I did—but I just couldn’t because something had been eating at me the whole ride to her house.

  “Nualla?” I asked quietly, watching the way the streetlights cast the shadows of the trees across her bedroom wall.

  “Hmm?” Nualla said into the pillow.

  “Before, you said that one drop could affect me. What did you mean by that?”

  At this Nualla sat up and looked at me. She continued to look at me for a very long time before she sighed and looked down at the bed. “The thing we carry in our blood is a retrovirus like any other. It’s passed through blood, even the smallest drop.”

  “Well, if I’m going to become one of you anyway, why would it matter?”

  “The first drop of blood starts the daemonification process, but it can only replicate so fast from such a small amount.” She looked nervously up into my eyes. “Basically, you would die before the transformation was complete.”

  “Oh…” I sat there in silence for a while. “Well then how—?”

  “With lots of blood. The most common way is through a replacement blood transfusion. Basically, they replace your blood with ours.”

  “Wait, then how could sleeping with you—?”

  “We have a more concentrated amount in our—” She stopped abruptly and flushed bright red. “Well obviously the blood transfusion method is a more modern way.”

  “Oh!” I said, turning red as well.

  Her voice when she spoke next was just above a whisper. “I’ve heard it’s not always successful; that some people die before the transformation can complete. Basically, they die of something similar to an allergic reaction or blood poisoning.”

  “Sounds…real pleasant,” I said with a grimace.

  Nualla took my hand. “I’m really sorry, Patrick—I wish I could take this all back and you could just go on leading a normal life.” Tears streamed down her face; I hadn’t even heard her start to cry.

  I pulled her close with my good arm and rested my chin on her head. “Nualla, whereas I didn’t know exactly what I was getting into when I agreed to hitch a ride to Vegas with you; I haven’t regretted it one bit.”

  She pulled away to look at me. “You really mean that?”

  “Nualla, I have been in love with you since the moment I first saw you. Do you really think, after wishing to be with you for that long, I would regret it?”

  “No, but you didn’t know what I was—what I am.”

  “Well yeah sure I didn’t. But I wouldn’t give you up for anything; not even something as small as that.”

  “It’s not small,” she replied with a pout.

  “It is to me,” I countered with a reassuring smile.

  I had gone back to sleep, well I had tried to anyways. But sleep had evaded me, so I just stared with unfocused eyes at the shadows on the wall again. I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, but I was in no mood to eat now. I mean, it wasn’t like I could feel the hunger—or anything for that matter.

  “Patrick?” Nualla asked in a quiet voice.

  “Hmm?” I said into the darkness.

  “Are you…are you still in a lot of pain?” she asked in a cautious voice.

  “To be perfectly honest, I haven’t been able to feel a thing since we left the clinic. I’m seriously thinking of calling the health board on that guy, he knows next to nothing about humans.”

  Her response was a pillow to the back of my head.

  “Hey, that doesn’t mean it’s okay to hit me you know,” I said, turning around to face her. And that’s when I realized for the first time that we were in her bed—alone.

  “This seems strangely familiar,” I said in an unsteady voice. I may have been drugged out of my mind, but I wasn’t dead.

  With a coy smile, Nualla pressed herself closer. “I’m pretty sure we had a lot less clothes before.”

  Danger Will Robinson, Danger!

  Oh, hell. I knew where this was about to go and there was no escaping it.

  “So you can’t feel this at all?” Nualla asked, gliding her knee across my bare thigh. I could barely feel it through all the dr
ugs, but it was still enough to send my heart racing.

  “If I answer no, does that mean you’re going to stop? Because if it does; then yes, I can totally feel that,” I said in a rush.

  She smiled that unbelievably sexy smile that I knew was only for me and leaned closer, lips brushing against mine. Then she began to kiss me harder, needy and hungry, and I matched it with my own need. Her soft skin against mine sent surges through my body demanding it press closer against her. I had been numb to my senses for hours now, and this sudden flood of sensation was nearly overwhelming.

  Her breath was heavy and hot on my skin, awaking every part of me that had had delusions of sleep. It was as if the fact that I couldn’t feel anything made me focus more on what I could feel, and that was intoxicating.

  I released all my anxiety and just let the heat roll over me, giving myself over to the moment. I wasn’t going to make it out this time; wasn’t going to be able to stop. I had been fighting an uphill battle against my urges for weeks now, and this time I knew I was probably going to lose.

  And then she spoke as if she sensed I had finally lost control. “Hmm…we have to stop,” she said, pulling away from my lips.

  “No we don’t,” I countered, leaning back in to kiss her more.

  She held her hands out in front of her, preventing me from getting closer. “Patrick, do you know why I didn’t want to wait till after graduation to get married?” Nualla asked in a slightly breathless voice. “Because now we can’t do this for a few more months.”

  I didn’t even have to ask what this was.

  Damn you, logic; you are always getting the better of me.

  “Okay I changed my mind. We can get married now, I’ll get my pants,” I announced, moving to get up.

  “Nope, you made your bed now you have to lie in it,” Nualla stated, turning her head away from me.

  “Nualla.”

  “Okay, bad choice of words, but still.”

  I knew she was right, but it didn’t stop me from wanting her. Wanting her more badly than I had ever wanted anything. “You know, you really shouldn’t tease the animals, sometimes they bite back,” I said with a playful glare.

  “I’m counting on it,” Nualla replied with a teasing smile.

  I just stared at her dumbly for a few moments. Sometimes I really did think she greatly enjoyed teasing me; seeing how far she could push me before I lost control of myself. Fortunately, I kinda liked it. Unfortunately, at the moment I couldn’t give in to the urges racing through my body.

  “Okay, you win. I’m so going to bed now,” I said, flopping back on my pillow and closing my eyes. “As it is I may need to go take a long cold shower.”

  “Oh really, why?” Nualla asked, feigning innocence.

  “If you don’t cut it out, I’m going to throw you in the cold shower first,” I threatened, opening one eye to look at her.

  “Ugh, no! Okay, I promise to be good—tonight at least,” Nualla said, flopping back onto her pillow. “Night, Patrick.”

  “Goodnight, Nualla,” I said, grinning to myself.

  When all had gone quiet I pulled her close and put my arms protectively around her. It felt good, so good not to be alone.

  I had never slept so soundly in my life, as I did that night.

  32

  Even the Fearless

  Wednesday, February 15th

  PATRICK

  The next day I really did feel like I had been hit by a Buick. The painkillers had worn off, and even opening my eyes hurt.

  Where am I?

  I scanned the room with as little movement as I could manage until I caught sight of Nualla sitting at a computer desk across the room.

  Oh right, I’m at Nualla’s, in her bed. In. Her. Bed?

  I sat bolt upright and then immediately wished I hadn’t. I fell back in a choked back scream of pain. When I opened my eyes again, Nualla was leaning over me looking anxious.

  “You know, you really shouldn’t do that in the condition you’re in.”

  “Next time remind me of that before I do it, okay?” I moved my right arm to push my hair out of my face and remembered a second too late that it was in a cast. “Damn it!” I cursed after I whacked myself in the forehead.

  “Here, let me,” Nualla said, brushing my hair out of my face with a half-hearted smile. “Do you want your painkillers now?”

  “Oh God yes, do you even have to ask?” I moaned, squeezing my eyes shut in agony.

  Nualla turned and retrieved a glass of water and some pills from her nightstand. “Here, sit up slowly.”

  I eyed her as I took the pills and washed them down with water. When I was finished, I leaned my head back against the wall. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Really?” I asked dubiously, arching an eyebrow, though it proved to be painful.

  “Seriously, I’m fine. My body heals a lot faster than yours, remember?”

  “Must be nice.” I looked around the room; the light coming through the window seemed off somehow. “What time is it?” I asked as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes with my left hand this time.

  “Three in the afternoon,” Nualla answered, looking over at the clock.

  “Well, I guess I’m ditching school today.”

  “We thought it was best to just let you sleep. And besides, it’s not ditching if you are actually ill—or hurt,” Nualla said in a concerned voice before her expression turned mischievous. “I, on the other hand, am totally ditching.”

  I laughed slightly even though it hurt like hell.

  Nualla stood. “On a side note, I think you need to have food with those pills, so we should probably fix that? Do you feel able to walk down the stairs, or should I bring you something?”

  “What floor are we on, again?”

  Nualla looked at me anxiously. “You don’t remember?”

  I shook my head.

  “We’re on the fourth floor.”

  “Do you want me still alive when we get to the bottom?” I asked with a wry smile.

  “Preferably,” Nualla answered with a small smile of her own.

  “Then you should probably bring me something.”

  NUALLA

  By the time I got back to the room, Patrick was already unconscious again. Sighing, I put the plate on the nightstand and sat watching him sleep. He looked so fragile, so breakable, lying there bruised and pale. I was so afraid to leave him; he looked so terribly vulnerable.

  I had been playing it cool, joking, teasing and what-not to cover up just how much yesterday had terrified me. Seeing him broken and bleeding in the wreckage of the bus was an image I just couldn’t get out of my head. Just thinking about it hurt me deep in my chest, making it hard to breathe. And that’s when I knew

  sure, that I wasn’t just crushing, that I wasn’t just attracted to him, but that I loved him.

  It was a pain I wasn’t used to; that I had never really felt before. But still I knew what it meant. I didn’t need someone to explain it to me, I could feel the truth of it; the ache of it.

  I looked down at the ring, a physical reminder of our bond. But even if it wasn’t there I knew I would still feel it as strongly as I had ever felt anything. I finally understood why we guarded our hearts so fiercely; why we didn’t leap until we were dead sure. Because once felt, this pull, this all-consuming urge, this bond, could never be undone.

  The fact that something—that anything—could have this much power over me was terrifying. It wasn’t the idea of being with Patrick that frightened me. It was knowing that if I lost him, that if he was taken from me, that it would destroy me, sure as anything.

  I sat there staring at the ring, and I let myself cry until it became dark outside. Because there was only so much one per
son could keep locked away; only so much a dam could hold in before it broke. Only so strong one person could be before they failed, because even the fearless sometimes had to fall.

  PATRICK

  Sometime around eight or so in the evening I finally braved the stairs to walk down to the media room on the second floor. It was amazing just how very large Nualla’s house was, especially for being in the middle of a city like San Francisco. Most of the houses in the city were tall but thin, crammed together like a folded accordion. Some of the places I had been had only a single room per floor if you can believe it. It was something TV just couldn’t capture adequately; just how crowded it really was here. Sure, most cities are crowded, but they had nothing on San Francisco.

  Nualla’s house was completely at odds with this, as if someone had leveled the neighboring buildings and dropped an estate out of the air. But since most of the houses on the street took up similar space I got the distinct impression they had been here a very long time and the rest of the city had just grown up around them.

  When Nualla and I entered the room Shawn and Nikki were already curled up on the couch eating pizza and watching some Sci-fi show. “You watch the SyFy channel?” I asked in disbelief.

  Nikki and Shawn looked up at me in confusion. “Sure, why not?”

  “I’d think it would be super-fake to you guys,” I said, slumping down onto the couch. Even though I had slept most of the day, I was still beyond exhausted.

  “Naw, it’s a lot easier to suspend your disbelief when you aren’t supposed to exist,” Shawn said with a smile before biting into a slice of pizza.

  “Touché.” I sat there for a few minutes before I realized that it was a Wednesday night and Shawn was there hanging out on the Galathea’s media room couch. In fact, he was always there as far as I could tell. “Are you always over here?” I asked, looking at Shawn.