Daemons in the Mist (The Marked Ones Trilogy: Book One) (14 page)

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 almost 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.”

“Oh sorry—
Skye
…” I said nervously.
Great
, I hadn’t even made it in the door yet, and I was already going down in flames.

Skye took my arm and led me into the house. “Don’t mind Andraya, she’s harmless—
mostly
.”
Mostly
being the operative word.

I looked around the foyer, the fact that they even
had
one said a lot. I had thought the outside of the house was impressive, but it didn’t even hold a candle to the inside. An elaborate glass-topped table with a vase and a stack of mail stood in the middle of the room on a large pale blue oriental rug. Above the table was an impressive looking chandelier like one you would find in an old opera house. Intricate Victorian woodwork lined the bottom and tops of the Impressionist sky blue colored walls. They were the ornate wood carvings one only found in high-class, turn of the century homes.

I was staring at it—a little awestruck—when I heard a soft purring. I looked down to see a blueish-purple gray cat rubbing against my leg.

“
Oh
, Denaya likes you!” Skye said in an excited voice.

“Who?” I asked, looking around.

“The cat,” Skye answered pointing at the gray cat currently looking up at me with curious golden eyes. “If the cat likes you, you’re golden.”

“Good to know,” I said mostly to myself as I reached down to pet the cat.

“So do you normally do stupid things like run off and marry random strangers, or did my little sister drag you into this mess?” Andraya asked as she glared at me with disdain.

I stood up and just looked at her. There was really no answer I could give her that wouldn’t come back to fuck me over later. Sure, Nualla had dragged me off to Vegas, but I had never for one
second
blamed her for anything that had happened.

“What Patrick does or doesn’t do is none of your business, Andraya,” Skye said, crossing her arms under her chest.

“
Sure
it is. We already have our hands full with
her
poor judgment, we don’t need another one compounding the problem.”

“Would the two of you stop picking on my son-in-law? He looks about to faint,” a deep male voice said from the stairs.

I looked up to see a tall gentleman walking down the stairs, book in hand. He had shoulder-length wavy pale blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. His hair was a lot like Skye’s and it was very clear that they were related. He also had the same unusual eyes as Nualla and Skye, periwinkle-blue with silvery flecks in them like moonlight reflecting back at you in the night.

Well this was a turn for the better; I had been expecting him to say something like, “Here’s that jerk my daughter ran off and married.” I swallowed hard; now to make a good impression. “Hello, Mr. Galathea, I’m Patrick Connolly, your daughter’s—” somehow I couldn’t get the word out.

“
Husband
,” he finished for me, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, I know, and please Patrick, call me Alex. You are part of this family now. We needn’t be so formal.”

My brain screeched to a halt. Had he actually just said I was part of his family?

Alex placed his book on the glass entry table and reached down to scoop up the dainty little Denaya. He looked up into my eyes, and I got the feeling he was doing more than just looking. It felt more like he was reading my soul.

“It’s good that Denaya likes you. You see, animals are not fooled by our illusions, only humans are. Dogs tend to not like us. But cats, cats see past
what
you are to
who
you are. They judge you by this,” Alex said, pointing to his heart. “Nothing fools a cat.”

“I don’t have any pets,” I said like an idiot. “I mean I
like
animals—I just don’t have any.”

Andraya didn’t even try to stifle her snort as she slunk away into the next room.

I heard the sound of a door closing and looked past Alex; a lady with long straight black hair came down the hall looking at some papers. When she got closer to us, she stopped and looked up, a little startled to see us standing there in front of her.

“Ah Loraly,” Alex said to her before turning to me. “Patrick this is my wife Loraly, Nualla and Andraya’s mother.”

Loraly smiled the kindest smile I had ever seen, and said in a soft friendly voice, “Hello Patrick, it’s very nice to finally meet you.” Her eyes were the same dark blue as Andraya’s, but without the cold stare behind them.

“It’s very nice to meet you too,” I said, smiling back at her in a way I hoped looked friendly.

“Is that for Nualla?” Loraly asked, pointing at the corsage box in my hand. “It’s really lovely,” she said, moving closer for a better look.

I looked down at it myself. “Yeah, I got it to match her eyes.” Then I realized what I had said and nervously clarified, “Um, because I didn’t know what color to get since she didn’t tell me what color her dress was.” I ran my free hand through my hair; I had only been here a few minutes an already I was losing it.

“This must all be very strange to you,” Loraly said sympathetically.

Truthfully? Yes, but to be completely honest, it was no weirder than the plots of some of the anime I had seen. Maybe that was the only reason I was keeping it together, because I was more willing to accept weird. “Um—
yeah
a little, but I’m okay.”

“
Really
?” Andraya said dubiously from the other room; apparently she had been keeping up with the conversation while only
pretending
not to be interested. “Because you look like you’re about to keel over any second now.”

“Andraya, don’t be rude,” Loraly scolded her eldest daughter before turning back to me. “Patrick, be honest, do we frighten you?”

I wanted to lie at this moment more than any other time in my life, but I just couldn’t. “Yeah, actually I’m terrified,” I admitted reluctantly.

Loraly’s shoulders dropped, and she got a hurt expression in her eyes. She looked about to burst into tears at any moment.

Oh, this is bad. This is really,
really
bad.

There was a scuffling behind us, and I turned to see Shawn coming through the door. He shut the door behind him and looked up at me, a smile on his face. “Patrick,
buddy
, how did you beat me here?”

So we were buddies now?
Um…cool?

The smile disappeared from Shawn’s face as he looked past me. “Loraly, what’s wrong?”

“Patrick thinks we’re scary,” she almost sobbed.

Oh
fuck
, that’s why she had looked so upset. She probably thought I thought they were monsters. “Oh no, that’s not what I meant at all!” I said quickly. “It’s not because of
what
you are. That doesn’t bother me in the least, it’s kinda cool really. It’s just, you’re her parents and well, I was terrified to death you would hate me.”

Shawn, Alex, and Skye all bust up laughing, Loraly looked momentarily confused, and Andraya mumbled something unpleasant.

“Well
that
clears things right up there, doesn’t it,” Skye said, poking me in the ribs. “He’s only terrified of what every
other
teenage boy is; his girl’s parents.”

Loraly looked at me questioningly, and I nodded. The smile returned to her face, and she took a few steps toward me. In one swift movement she swept me up into a hug, the papers in her hands fluttering to the ground forgotten. “Please don’t be frightened Patrick, I assure you we like you very much.”