“Go!” I shouted. “Before you get hurt...”
He dodged a punch and blocked another before returning one of his own. Then he gave her a roundhouse kick to the chest and she flew back into the wall behind her.
“Amerie, watch out!” Marshall shouted.
I spun around, blocking the attack from the man, now back on his feet, just in time. We threw an array of punches at each other, blocking, and dodging and punching some more. He was so fast; I had to rely on only my instincts. There was no time to think, no time to breathe.
Then I lost my focus and he managed to kick me in the stomach. The force knocked me back onto one of the glass coffee tables, and I smashed through it. All the air was forced out of my lungs, and I lay on the floor, surrounded by broken glass, completely dazed.
“I’m sorry to have to kill you,” he grunted, advancing over to me. He licked his lips and bent down. “You’re such a pretty little thing. Better than the last one.”
“Bite me,” I choked out.
“If I didn’t have to kill you, I’d do that and more.” He grinned wickedly and reached down, his fingers fastening around my neck.
I bucked up, trying to loosen his hold and claw his hands off my neck.
“Amerie!” Marshall shouted. “Hang on.” There was the sound of smashing glass and then my assailant was pried away from me. I sat up, my hands reaching up for my neck, my chest heaving as I gulped in air. Too close. Way too close again.
I watched Marshall fight, completely captivated. He moved with such power and strength that he put me to shame. Whose side was he on, anyway? And how did he learn to fight like that? He yanked out a sharp, pointed knife from his coat pocket and slashed at the guy, who jumped back, tripping over his own feet. As soon as he was down, Marshall plunged the knife right through his chest, just as I shouted out, “No!”
It was too late. I ran over to them, my blood turning cold, and fully expected to see a pool of blood seeping from the wound, but instead there was nothing. Marshall pulled the knife out of the Damned, sliding it back into his coat. A sliver of black mist rose up from the non-existent wound and disappeared through the ceiling. How the hell had he got hold of a Blessed knife? Only a Blessed knife wouldn’t leave any kind of wound.
“What...how...where‘s the other one?” I finally asked.
Marshall stepped toward me, his face twisted with concern. “Are you okay? Are you injured?”
I ignored him. “Where’s the other one? She won’t stop until...”
“Relax. I got her.”
I glanced around the reception. It was across the room, and I could just about make out her body through the smashed window, lying outside on the grass.
“Oh.” Usually, the best thing to do would be to move the body somewhere, and leave them hidden until they wake up, confused but with no memory of their possession. Tonight I my shock was too great to care about where they were, when they woke.
“Are you injured?” he repeated.
“What?” I turned back to him, confused. “Who the hell are you?”
He spun me around. “I’ll explain later. Come on. I need to clean you up.” His hand dropped from my shoulder, to grab my hand instead. His palm was surprisingly cool against my clammy one. With a strong grip and an even stronger pull, he led me down the corridor until he managed to find the toilets. We passed three in surrounding corridors, but I was in too much shock, to tell him.
“Take off your top,” he demanded, shrugging off his coat.
That snapped me out of it. “What? No! I don’t know who you think you are...”
“Amerie.” He sounded like a stern father losing patience with a naughty child. “You’re hurt. I can’t get to your wound with your clothes still on you. Unless you want to walk home with glass sticking out your back, you’ll do what I ask.”
A sudden crippling amount of shyness took over. There was a lot I didn’t know about Marshall – a mystery that I desperately wanted, no, needed to solve. One thing I did know was that he was extraordinarily sexy, and he was about to see me in my bra – when I’d never gone that far with any other guy before.
He seemed to sense my unease. “I’m not gonna be staring at your chest,” he said with a sigh. “Seen a couple, you’ve seen them all. It’s not a big deal.”
It was a fricking big deal to me, but the shock was wearing off, and so was my adrenaline. Now that the pain of my injuries was starting to become apparent, the worst of it seemed to be a sharp pain, in the center of my back.
“If I catch you looking at me like some kind of a perv, I’ll kick your ass,” I snapped.
He rolled his eyes and averted his gaze as I pulled my hoodie and vest top over my head. The layers snagged at the glass, and I hissed, dropping the clothing to the floor. I moved to stand in front of the sink, making sure to use the mirror to keep an eye on Marshall.
Smoothly, he moved in behind me. His hands were cold as they slid down my back, and I gripped the porcelain sink so hard it began to crumble beneath my hold. Not once did I take my eyes off him through the mirror. To his credit, his gaze never strayed from my back.
“It’s not as bad as it first looked,” he said.
“That’s a relief,” I bit back my sarcasm.
“I’m gonna have to pull the big pieces out, though. That’s probably gonna sting like a bitch.”
“Just do it.”
He nodded once. “Let me get some tissue. Hold on.” Disappearing into a stall, he came back out holding a roll of toilet paper, which he dumped into the sink I was clutching.
He didn’t even warn me. There was a sharp tug and then searing pain rushing up and down my spine. I wouldn’t let him hear me scream, though. I gripped the sink harder until it cracked, and I bit down on my lip until blood welled.
“And... done.” I felt him hold tissue against my back, and the pain gradually began to subside. “Not so bad, was it?”
I grunted, reaching around to take hold of the tissue myself. He backed away, and then his eyes slid down to my chest.
“Nice bra.”
“You’re a pig.”
“A pig that just saved your life.” He folded his arms. “You should trust me now.”
“I don’t think so.” I dumped the bloody tissue in the toilet of the cubicle next to me and yanked down the flush cord so hard I almost tore it from the wall. Then I grabbed my clothes and shoved them back on, not caring if I bled through my tee shirt.
“You have such a temper,” Marshall carried on, staring at me with a bemused kind of smile. “But if you think it’s putting me off you, think again. I like feisty girls.”
“Who are you?” I demanded.
“Dane Marshall. Didn’t we do this whole introduction thing already? Or was it a dream of mine? I’ve dreamt about you a lot since we first met. I can’t always guarantee you’re wearing clothes, though...”
“What are you really?” I edged towards him, fists balled at my sides. “You fight like...like...me! And you’re not surprised at what I can do either. Oh – and how did you get hold of a Blessed dagger?”
Marshall shrugged. “Actually, I fought better than you. Let’s not get that mixed up.”
“I could wipe the floor with you.”
“Not from where I was standing. You’re sloppy. Untrained. I could have you up to speed in no time. What’d you say? Fancy a couple sparring sessions?”
“You have got to be outta your mind. I don’t know you. I don’t trust you. And I certainly don’t like you.” I was inches away from him now. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s dark outside,” Marshall suddenly said. “Let me take you home.”
“Were you not just listening to anything I said? What part of me not trusting you don’t you understand?”
“Look,” Marshall said, taking a step back, “you can obviously look after yourself. If I try any funny business, which I won’t, then you can wipe the floor with me. Yes?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Will you
answer my questions on the way back?”
“Certainly.”
“Then fine. But keep your hands to yourself, and if you make any disgusting comments I’m gone. Okay?”
He mock saluted me. “Yes ma’am. Now let’s go before someone finds us here.”
I followed him out of the toilets before leading the way out of the dark building. Everything was silent: too silent after all that noise. I looked around nervously. The caretaker lived on site. It wouldn’t be long until he made his rounds and found this mess, and we couldn’t be here when he did.
“We need to avoid the caretaker,” I said.
“Good thinking. Overalls and the smell of bleach don’t really do it for me.”
“Remind me to douse some overalls in bleach and wear them the next time I see you.”
“Planning our next date already? Steady. I want to take us slowly.”
I ignored him and pushed the exit door open, letting it swing back in Marshall’s face. Unfortunately, he caught it before it could hit him.
“I don’t see any cars, Marshall,” I snapped, turning on him. “You better not be messing with me. I’m tired, I’m injured, and I’m annoyed.”
“Yeah, I see that. And you don’t see any cars because I didn’t come on one.” He spun me around so that I was staring at a black, shiny motorbike. My heart sank in my chest. Last year, Chuck had decided to ride one and ended up in the hospital for a week after, recovering. I’d vowed never to ride one after that.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Nope.” He strolled over to it, turning off the alarm and unlocking the seat where he kept a spare helmet. He held it out for me.
“I’m not getting on that.”
“You’ll ride a horse, but you won’t get on a motorbike? I didn’t peg you as a baby.”
Biting down on my lip, I stormed over to him and grabbed the helmet. If this was what it took to get answers...
My heart hammered in my chest as I slid the helmet on my head. It was too big, but then Marshall was in front of me, adjusting the straps, and tightening it around my face. He was close – too close. His touch was intimate, and his gaze, intense. Before things could get too heated, he had patted my head and hopped on the bike, indicating that I should do the same.
“Jump on, sunshine.”
“Don’t call me that.” I climbed on behind him, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. What the hell was I doing? There was even more to Marshall than I’d ever imagined, and I was getting on a death trap with him without so much as an explanation.
“You’ll wanna hold on tight,” he said, kick starting the bike.
I lurched forward, and my arms wrapped around his chest, holding on for dear life. I ignored his laugh and squeezed my eyes shut as he flung the bike around and took off at a high speed out of the school car park.
I didn’t dare open my eyes. My face pressed against Marshall’s back as we hurtled down country lanes towards the main city. I feared that if I opened my mouth to talk to him, the rush of air would choke me. It didn’t occur to me that I wasn’t going to get any answers until the loud hustle and bustle of the city drowned out the deafening roar of the engine in my ears. There was no way we could talk when I couldn’t even hear myself think! Marshall had tricked me.
I couldn’t find it in me to be too angry, when I was surrounded by his essence, his smell....
And he smelled amazing, like expensive aftershave and soap mixed with another scent I couldn’t work out. Lavender maybe?
Suddenly, the motorbike swerved to a stop. Shakily, I inched back, looking up at where we were − outside of my building. I hopped off the bike, ignoring how shaky my legs were, and threw the helmet at him. He caught it with one hand.
“How do you know where I live?”
“Are you impressed or annoyed?”
“Freaked out, actually. Marshall, you have a lot of explaining to do.”
He nodded once. “Yeah, I do. But now is not the time.”
I glared at him, anger bubbling up in the pit of my stomach. “You’re unbelievable. You tricked me.”
Marshall propped his bike on its stand before slowly walking over to me. I held my ground until we were inches apart.
“I didn’t trick you. I had to make sure you got home safely. Everything is different now, Amerie. You can’t go around hiding in your make believe little world anymore. The things that go bump in the night are very real, and they want you. They want you bad. You need to be ready, or you’ll die trying. Am I making sense to you?”
The hair on my arms and the back of my neck rose. It was as if nothing and everything, he had just said made sense. How did he know so much? Why was he being cryptic?
I only had one question – for now. “Are you Damned?” I whispered.
He shook his head slowly and surely. “No. No, I’m not.”
“Okay,” I said, knowing the Damned can’t lie. “As long as you’re not Damned, I can deal with this. When will you explain it then? Soon?”
“At your shift tomorrow.” Suddenly, the cocky Marshall was back. “Wear something nice for me. Yeah?”
“Go to hell.”
“I hear it’s not a nice place.” He reached forward to play with a strand of my hair, but I slapped his hand. With a chuckle, he waved and climbed back onto the bike. “I better return this to its rightful owner. I kinda borrowed it for the night.”
“Sicko.”
“Sweet dreams!” he called, and then he was gone.
Chapter Ten
Destruction
I barely slept a wink that night. I tossed and turned, thrashed around in my sheets, feeling that the soft cotton was suffocating me, strangling me. Though I knew that Marshall had sent the Damned back to Hell, I had the strongest sense that it wasn’t over.
As for Marshall and his cryptic words? They repeated through my mind, often playing out in my dreams one way or another.
You’re sloppy. Untrained.
The things that go bump in the night are very real, and they want you.
When my alarm finally buzzed in the morning, I got up, showered, and then dressed without really focusing. On the Tube and bus, I replayed the fight with the Damned repeatedly, thinking about ways I could have done better. It was only once the bus pulled up outside school that I realized I was embarrassed. Embarrassed that I couldn’t even deal with two Damned on my own. Marshall had to save me. He was right. I was sloppy. Rusty.
The school corridors were alive with the sound of bustling students. I watched them with envy, doubting any of them was worrying about being hunted and killed.
“Hey,” Mercy shouted, waving her arms over the heads of the crowd. She was pretty much taller than most of the people standing in her way, but she still jumped up and down, making sure I saw her. “Wait up!”
I stopped, mentally taking a deep breath. Act normal. Nothing happened last night.
“Hey, Mercy,” I said as she approached. “How was your night?”
“Don’t ask me about that.” Mercy’s eyes were wide. “Tell me you heard about what happened here, last night.”
A cold chill ran through my body. “No. What?”
“Well, I’m not completely sure, but word is that kids from St Thomas High broke in and smashed up reception. No one’s allowed around there.” Mercy folded her arms and leaned back against someone’s locker. “I got a quick look, though. One of the windows is entirely destroyed. They’re boarding it up now.”
I pretended to look surprised by the information. I wasn’t sure exactly how great of an actress I was, though. In all of the drama, I’d totally forgotten about the state in which we’d left the school.
“Wow – that’s weird.”
“I know,” Mercy agreed. “A couple of the guys are planning payback.”
“You talking about the St. Thomas break in?” Chuck asked, appearing beside us with Sam in tow.
Mercy nodded. “Yup. I was telling Amerie that some of us are planni
ng a little payback.”
“Damn right we are. They don’t get to come up here and destroy things for no reason. They’re gonna learn they messed with the wrong school,” Chuck said, crackling his knuckles. I winced at the sound.
“An eye for an eye,” I muttered.
I didn’t think anyone heard but then Sam gently touched my arm. “Yeah, I don’t agree with it either.”
Mercy looked outraged. “What? How can you not agree? We have to show them who they’re messing with.”
“Are you going to show them?” Sam retaliated.
Mercy remained quiet.
“Exactly. Those guys are getting themselves into a bunch of shit for no reason. It’s juvenile. So what if reception got trashed? It’s not like the school is lacking money to fix it.”
Chuck and Mercy exchanged looks of disbelief.
“I’ve been trying to explain the concept of school spirit all morning,” Chuck said with a dramatic sigh. “But the poor boy just doesn’t get it.”
“Obviously I don’t either,” I snapped. “How do you even know it was St. Thomas kids? A bunch of idiots from in the city could have driven past, drunk out of their minds, and decided to have a bit of fun by trashing our posh school. It could have been anyone.”
Anyone... like me.
Mercy shrugged. “It’s most likely them.”
Just as I opened my mouth to change the subject, a loud voice echoed over the school intercom, announcing that due to the destruction the school had suffered, the police had been called to investigate, and the students were being sent home. The school would reopen Thursday morning once all the damage had been repaired.
“Freedom!” Mercy shouted, running around us despite the bustling hallway. “What should we do? I’m completely hyped now. I can’t believe this!”
“I wonder why they’re investigating it,” Chuck mused. I nodded, wondering the same thing. So a few windows got smashed. Big deal. Why involve the police?
“So, what should we do?” Mercy asked, not interested in our side conversation. “I’m thinking a fast food trip. I’m feeling for a Big Mac.”
“What happened to your diet?” Chuck asked.
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