Demon Guard

by Samantha Britt

  “But why?” I shake my head. None of this makes sense. “He let me go. Twice. What makes you think he’d come back for me after that?”

  Logan leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees until there is less than six inches between his face and mine. I find myself swaying towards him, as if he’s the sun and I’m a meteor pulled into his orbit.

  Am I really feeling desire at this moment?

  What’s wrong with me?

  There’s a freaking demon out there, potentially interested in kidnapping me sometime in the future. I should be freaking out and pacing the room, not leaning forward and wondering what it would be like to kiss Logan Hendricks on the lips.

  I dig my fingers into the cushions at my side, keeping myself from drawing any closer to my Shadowguard mentor.

  Thankfully, Logan seems to not notice how close my lips came to touching his.

  He takes a deep breath. “Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned about demons,” he says in a low, controlled voice, “it’s that they don’t just let prey walk away. Not unless they have a bigger hunt in mind.”

  His words cure me of any lingering desire.

  Now, my heart is pounding only out of fear. “So… I’m prey now?”

  His hand snaps out and grabs mine. No doubt, he feels them tremble. I’m caught off guard when his fingers begin to move over my skin in a consoling gesture.

  “Aspen, I promise…” He pauses and dips his head, forcing me to look at his face rather than our entwined hands. “I will do everything I can to find out what’s going on here. I won’t let anything happen to you. You’ll be safe.”

  I’m stunned. Since when did he care so much?

  I realize the thought isn’t fair. Logan’s a Guardian. It’s his job to keep people safe from demons. The fact I’m his mentee makes it more personal to him, but he would try to help anyone in this situation. Though, I can’t ignore the emphatic and determined expression heating my mentor’s face. Perhaps this isn’t so impersonal after all…

  All I can do is nod. I’m still weak from the attack, and my thoughts are a chaotic mess from the events of the night. “Okay,” I murmur, accepting his promise as truth.

  “Okay,” he repeats quietly. He gives my hand a firm, grateful squeeze, then pulls back. Instantly, I miss the contact.

  And that is how Logan switched from an outright enemy to a tentative ally in one, short conversation.

  Twenty

  Under the circumstances, I’m allowed to skip the meeting with the Assessor the next morning. I spend all of Friday in bed, only getting up when I need to visit the community bathroom. Cortney has taken it upon herself to nurse me back to health after Vivian and Charles finally left the academy that morning. It hadn’t been easy to get rid of my worried foster mother, but Vivian begrudgingly left once she was certain I suffered no lingering effects of the attack or Logan’s extraction sigil.

  A sigil everyone had been shocked and relieved to learn hadn’t caused me pain.

  Now, it’s Saturday and I’m bored out of my mind. A day in bed can do that to a girl.

  “Come on Cortney, let’s go get breakfast.”

  My friend watches me with suspicion. “I think you should stay in bed. I can go get something for you to eat and bring it back here.”

  “Seriously, Cortney, I’m fine. I need to get out of this room. At least for a little while.” The recently-painted light gray walls feel like they’re closing in.

  She frowns, and I know she doesn’t want to give in.

  I throw off my covers and toss my legs over the side of my bed. “I’m going to the cafeteria. You can either come with me or stay here.” I make quick work of throwing on a loose pair of yoga pants and a baggy gray sweater. I knot my hair in a bun and move to the door, looking over my shoulder at her.

  She sighs. “Fine, but if you so much as look like you’re tired or in pain, we’re coming right back here.”

  “Deal.” I slip into the hallway before she has the chance to change her mind.

  When we walk into the cafeteria, I’m mildly surprised at how empty it is. There’s a table of second year students sitting near the back, sipping on cups of coffee. Baggy eyes and messy hair lead me to believe they had a long night.

  Instructor Petrov sits at a table in the middle of the room, but he’s not alone.

  I immediately identify Logan. The two men are speaking in low voices, and their heads are tilted towards one another. As if they are sharing a secret.

  Cortney brushes past me and picks up a tray, “Come on. Tell me what you want, and I’ll put it on the tray.”

  Begrudgingly, I tear my gaze from my mentor and follow Cortney down the buffet line. It feels silly to let her carry my food for me but arguing is pointless. I select a fruit and yogurt parfait and a carton of orange juice.

  “That’s it?” She frowns at my meager selection.

  I shrug. “Yeah.”

  “No.” She shakes her head. “You need more protein. Here, have some sausage too.” She picks up two sausage patties stacked on a small paper plate.” I’m not a fan of sausage or bacon but, once again, I don’t object. Cortney can buy whatever she wants. That doesn’t mean I have to eat it.

  We move down the line, and Cortney grabs two pieces of toast, some butter, and strawberry jam. I don’t bother to ask if she plans on forcing one of them on me. The answer would be yes.

  We charge the meal to our student accounts, then move towards the tables. Something moves in the corner of my eye, but I keep my attention on the table we’re approaching.

  “Aspen.”

  For a moment, I wonder if I imagined someone calling my name. I look on either side of me, but I only see Cortney. My friend is looking towards the center of the cafeteria with wide eyes. I follow her gaze and see Logan’s hand lifted in the air.

  Seeing he has my attention, Logan lowers his arm. “Aspen. Come sit with us.”

  Seriously?

  First, he wasn’t a total jerk in the headmistress’s office, and now he’s inviting me to eat breakfast with him? What is going on?

  Logan motions for me to come over. Instructor Petrov’s attention is now on us, and I sense the curious glances of the second-year students at the other table.

  I duck my chin and move towards the table. Cortney follows. When we arrive, both of us stand awkwardly. The table sits eight. Should we take the seats right beside the guys, or should we leave a seat or two for space?

  “Good morning, ladies.” Instructor Petrov pulls out the chair next to him, looking at Cortney. “Please.”

  “T-thank you,” she stutters, placing down the tray of food and sitting in the offered seat. “Good morning, Instructor Petrov.” She gives a little nod. “Guardian Hendricks.”

  “Good morning, Miss Elms,” Logan replies. “Good morning, Aspen.” It’s not lost on me that he addresses me by first name while he uses Cortney’s last name.

  “Morning,” I murmur. Without meeting Logan’s eye, I sit in the chair beside him.

  This is weird. My body is tense, and I don’t know what to do. There has to be a reason Logan invited me over. Maybe it has something to do with the attack at the bar. Maybe he has more questions for me.

  Cortney slides my parfait across the table, handing me a spoon and a napkin. I shoot her a quick smile, then use the spoon to mix in the granola sitting on top of the yogurt.

  “I heard you were involved in two attacks on Thursday night.” I peer up and am thankful to see Instructor Petrov is looking at Cortney, not me. “I hope you’re alright.”

  My friend’s cheeks color, but she manages to keep her voice even. “Thank you.” She looks at me. “I was luckier than some.”

  “Yes, I heard.” Instructor Petrov’s attention shifts to me, and I fight the urge to squirm. “You are looking recovered, Miss Van der Klay.”

  “I am.” I take a bite of my parfait to save me from having to say anything more.

  Logan shifts closer and I feel his breath against my face
. “Are you sure?”

  I shiver and force myself to finally meet his gaze. There’s concern in them, as well as wariness. I get the impression he doesn’t know what to make of me almost as much as I don’t know what to make of him.

  “Physically, I feel fine,” I aim to alleviate his worries.

  “She slept all day yesterday,” Cortney throws out. “I’m pretty sure she had nightmares.”

  I give my roommate my most deadly glare. Is she really throwing me under the bus right now?

  “Nightmares?” Logan asks.

  “I don’t even remember them.” That’s partially true. My dreams were filled with the image of deep, purple eyes and inky black hair, but I don’t remember what, exactly, made me wake up panting with fear and covered in sweat.

  “Nightmares are not surprising considering the ordeal you faced,” Instructor Petrov says kindly.

  “No, they’re not,” Logan agrees in a low, thoughtful voice.

  I go back to eating my parfait, all too aware that the table’s attention remains on me, even when I choke down a chunky piece of granola. At least Cortney tries to hide it by lathering up a piece of toast with jam and taking a bite.

  “What are your plans the rest of the day?” Logan asks, and I know he’s speaking to me.

  I drink orange juice to clear the granola from my throat. “Nothing really. Just hanging in my dorm.”

  “Good. You should use the entire weekend to rest.”

  “That’s the plan,” I mutter, stirring my yogurt, already dreading the impending boredom.

  “Petrov and I were discussing your training next week.”

  My eyes snap up to Logan’s. “You were?”

  He smirks, and my heart gives an involuntary thump. “Yeah, we were.”

  He’s going to make me work for the information, but I don’t care. This is obviously important if he brought it up.

  “What, specifically, were you talking about?”

  Logan’s smirk grows. It almost resembles a real smile. “In the interest in honing your skills, Petrov and I both agree it may be best for you to receive more one-on-one instruction during Combatives class.”

  “Oh.” That’s surprising. I’m not a bad fighter. Why would Instructor Petrov make this call after only seeing me fight once? Especially when I was one of the last finalists in the sparring matches. I look at the instructor for answers, but it’s Logan who keeps talking.

  “From now on, you will only attend Combatives for an hour and a half each Monday and Wednesday. For the rest of the class, you will be training with me.”

  “But…” Logan barely trained me during our last session together. Why would he sign up for more?

  “But what?” He doesn’t sound angry. If anything, he sounds amused. The comradery I’d started to feel in the headmistress’s office is slowly, but surely, beginning to fade away.

  I’m aware we have an audience, and I can sense Cortney is equally surprised by the offer as I am. Combatives is an important class at the academy. We all know the basics of fighting, but the class is also designed to teach us how to fight in teams. When we are sent on missions to take out demons, we will need to know how to coordinate ourselves with the other Guardians to be both effective and safe. It’s the type of training you can’t really get until you enter the academy, but Logan seems determined to deprive me of half of that training for no good reason.

  I grit my teeth, getting the impression that Logan is toying with me, but I can’t begin to imagine why.

  “Aspen?”

  “But,” I snap back, “You’re an active Guardian. Aren’t you going to be too busy with your missions to train me every day?” The guy doesn’t even want to be a mentor.

  “I appreciate your concern for my career,” he says with glittering eyes, clearly amused. “But don’t worry, I won’t let either of my obligations slip.”

  I’m not going to get anywhere with Logan. I set my sights on Instructor Petrov.

  “I’m a good fighter,” I tell him. “I don’t need one-on-one help. What I need is to stay in Combatives with my peers and learn how Guardian teams combat demons.” And to not have my time wasted by my incorrigible mentor.

  The instructor’s face is stoic, but there’s emotion in his eyes. He’s conflicted, but I see he is determined not to speak out on my behalf. Logan is my mentor, and he has more authority over my training than any instructor at the academy. Instructor Petrov confirms as much when he says, “Guardian Hendricks is a gifted fighter and skilled Guardian. Training with him can only help you.”

  That’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard. Logan can ruin me with his mood swings and sullen antics. I need a trainer who is consistent and reliable if I want to excel at the academy. I’m angry that my future is being put at risk for no good reason.

  “Is this because a demon had me in a trance?” I ask Logan in a biting, furious voice. “Because that wasn’t my fault, and you’ve done the extraction sigil on me. You know I’m not tainted with evil or anything.”

  Instructor Petrov sucks in a breath. “Bozhe mylyy. An extraction sigil?” He locks eyes with my mentor. Logan’s smile falls. A silent conversation passes between them, and I’m wondering what they’re thinking that they won’t just say out loud.

  Finally, Logan nods once, then moves his attention to me. “To answer your question, Aspen, no. This has nothing to do with you succumbing to a trance by a higher demon.”

  I’m about to demand an explanation for why I’m being punished then, when Logan cuts me off.

  “The Shadowguard Council has learned of what’s happened, and they have given me a new mission.”

  I frown, confused as to how this relates to what we’re talking about. Part of me is surprised Logan is sharing this information in front of Instructor Petrov, but I get the impression they might be friends. Not to mention, they’re both Guardians. For all I know, the Shadowguard encourages Guardians to share information with one another. Communicating intelligence is undoubtedly an important aspect of successfully completing missions.

  When Logan doesn’t explain, I say, “I don’t understand.”

  Logan’s grin returns in full force. “You are my new mission, Aspen. My job is to keep a close eye on you in case your admiring demon decides to make a return visit.”

  In any other situation, coming from anyone else, those words wouldn’t be so frustrating. Though I hate to think about it, I know there’s a chance the purple-eyed demon will make a reappearance in my life. Vivian and Charles made me promise to stay on Saint Michael’s property for the foreseeable future, and I’d agreed. I’m not stupid. There are protective sigils and magic enchantments covering the academy. It’s the safest place for me to avoid the demon.

  But Logan doesn’t have to be so smug, and he definitely doesn’t need to force me to miss half of my Combatives training just to keep an eye on me.

  My blood pounds in my ears, and my hands are clenched into a fist. This situation is unfair, but other than running to Headmistress Meyer and complaining, I have no way to fix it. And even that might not work. Logan is the Head Minister’s son, and I doubt the headmistress can interfere in Logan’s assigned mission, even if it’s just to force him to let me stay in Combatives class.

  “You really think the demon might come after her?” Cortney asks, fear making her voice tremble and her forehead crease.

  “It’s a possibility,” Logan replies, finally tearing his gaze off me to look at the table’s other occupants. “The Council has reason to believe the demon’s interest in Aspen is significant, and it’s my job to figure out why.”

  So, that’s the real reason I’m losing half of my Combatives training.

  The concern isn’t just that the demon might come for me, it’s trying to figure out why the demon is interested in me. Logan has been ordered to spend more time with me in order to figure out what drew the demon to me in the first place.

  I don’t know which is worse: being the distraction from Logan’s missions or bei
ng the focus of one.

  My gut tells me it’s going to be the latter.

  Twenty-One

  Monday morning, I’m sitting in Introduction to Demonology with Peter. He’s in the seat in front of me, but he’s turned around to talk. There isn’t a scratch or bruise on his body from Thursday’s attack. The physicians in the healing ward used sigils and modern medicine to heal him. If I hadn’t seen him during the attack, I never would’ve known something happened to him.

  “How’re you feeling?” He asks as we wait for class to start. “You sure you’re recovered?” His attention shifts to the fading extraction sigil on my forearm.

  I pull down my sweater’s sleeve. “Please don’t start. Cortney’s bad enough.”

  Peter gives a little smirk. “Tell me about it. She hounded my roommate all weekend to make sure I stayed in my dorms to rest. Let’s just say Freddy isn’t her number one fan.”

  I laugh and shake my head. Cortney’s the pinnacle mother hen of our newly formed trio.

  “But seriously,” his eyes dim a little. “If you say you’re okay, I’ll never mention it again. It was just freaky to see you there. With that,” he lowers his voice, “higher demon protecting you.”

  I shift in my seat. All of our classmates know about the attack at the bar. There were too many students and Guardians present to keep it a secret. But Joanna, Stacey, Peter, and Cortney all promised not to say anything about the attack on the road. Headmistress Meyer cited the need for secrecy while the Shadowguard Council conducts their investigation, but I think the reason has more to do with not causing panic. After all, an attack at the bar could be written off as being in the wrong place at the wrong time. But being pursued and then attacked so close to the academy? Not so much.

  “I know,” I murmur, shoving the image of glowing purple eyes from my mind. I had another nightmare last night, and those stunning, but fearful, eyes starred in it. I even dreamed of the higher demon’s deceptively smooth, accented voice. He’d called out to me, telling me to come to him. My dream-self had wanted nothing more than to heed his request and join the enticing demon. Just thinking about it makes me shudder.