Daemons in the Mist (The Marked Ones Trilogy: Book One) (35 page)

53

No More Words

Saturday, June 16th

PATRICK

A
s I watched my beautiful soon-to-be-wife walk down the aisle toward me, I almost couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. Nualla had never looked more beautiful than she did in this moment. Like a goddess in white, her hair pulled back from her face to cascade down her back. The hanging beads of her crown dancing with every little step she took. Her eyes mysterious and otherworldly as ever. It stole my breath away.

She had taken me on a crazy journey these last six months into places and things that I hadn’t even thought possible in my wildest dreams. We—I mostly—had made a lot of mistakes along the way, but it had all been worth it. I would go through any amount of pain again if I knew in the end I would get to be with her. I didn’t need someone to tell us we belonged together; I already knew it, completely—irrevocably.

She was nearly to me now; any second she would be here, and we would speak those words that would bind us together, now and always.

I took a deep breath then I heard the sound of a door bursting open. “No! Patrick, it’s a trap!” someone screamed in Nualla’s voice.

Instinctually, I jerked toward the sound. From one of the side doors Nualla ran toward me barefoot, hands bound, wearing nothing but a slip. My brain couldn’t make sense of what I was seeing so I turned back to the Nualla I had been watching. But the more I looked at the Nualla in the wedding dress the more I realized it wasn’t her. Sure, the girl looked exactly like Nualla, but something was missing; something that told me it wasn’t her.

This is like a nightmare.

I whipped my head back around to the real Nualla just as she tripped, thrown off balance by her bound hands. Everything moved so slowly, as if time was hardly passing at all. I reached out my arms to cradle her fall, and then I saw it, the shiny glint of something the
doppelgänger
was pulling from within the bouquet.

A gun!

She aimed it squarely at us; at Nualla. Without much thought, I thrust Nualla to the side putting her out of bullet’s path. A normal bullet wouldn’t kill her, but after the attack on the school I knew that these people—these daemons—didn’t play fair.

The bullet hit its mark and we were falling. I hit the ground with a thud so hard I couldn’t keep my hold on Nualla—
again
. I was in the bus again; we were crashing. A pain in my chest stole my breath; I couldn’t call out to her.

An explosion of sound rocked the ground and glass rained down. “Travis!” Nualla’s voice screamed from somewhere close.

Travis isn’t on the bus, why is she calling for him?

“Patrick?” Nualla said in a voice that was barely audible over the chaos around us.

I tried to take a breath to answer her, but the pain was too much. Things were getting blurry—unfocused.

“Patrick!” Nualla’s tear-streaked face loomed close over mine. She looked down, and her eyes went wide in fear. “Oh gods you’ve been shot! Please, somebody help!”

I was—
shot
? But I wasn’t shot on the bus, what was she talking about? This wasn’t making sense.

I forced myself to take a breath even though the pain was nearly unbearable. My head cleared marginally, and I realized I was in the temple with the shattered glass ceiling above us. We were at the wedding; the fake Nualla had tried to shoot
my
Nualla, but I had snatched her out of the way. I had protected her; even in this frail human body, I had still been able to save her. With the knowledge of that, I could rest with ease. I let out a sigh of relief, and everything got fuzzier.

“
Patrick
? Patrick, stay with me! Don’t leave me Patrick,
please
don’t leave me! I love you—please don’t die.”

I wanted to tell her not to worry, not to cry, but I couldn’t find the words. And then everything faded into a peaceful black oblivion.

54

A Time for Miracles

Saturday, June 16th

NUALLA

W
hen Patrick had shut his eyes, I had nearly lost it then and there.

“Patrick, open your eyes!” I shook him gently, but his eyes didn’t open. “Patrick,
please
!” Blood was already spreading across his deep blue ceremonial
haori
kimono top staining it black.

My dad dropped down next to me and extended his hand toward Patrick. But just as quickly he pulled his hand back. “They used a—titanium bullet?” he said in disgusted horror.

Fuck that
, I wasn’t going to let that stop me from saving him. I already had the burns on my hand, so I reached to pull the bullet out myself.

Before I could touch it, Alex slapped my hand away. “We can’t take the bullet out here or he’ll bleed to death!” He looked up at me quickly. “We have to get him to the medical clinic right away.” He grabbed Patrick and prepared to lift him. “Nualla, help me!”

I held up my bound hands cursing Nathan not-so-silently in my head. “I
can’t
!”

My dad looked down at my hands for a split second before his head jerked back up, “Roy!”

A second later, Roy was there, and the two of them were lifting Patrick off the floor.

It was utter chaos in the hall outside the temple; people were fleeing in all directions, unsure of where to run. I looked back at Alex and Roy and ran smack into someone. Unable to throw my hands out for balance I started to fall back, but someone caught me.

I looked up and my heart leapt in my chest at the sight of Travis in something other than a million bits. “You’re not dead,” I breathed, in complete shock.

“Yeah, I couldn’t stop the bomb so I got the hell out of—” His expression changed from panic to horror. “Oh gods, what happened?”

I followed his gaze to Alex and Roy weaving through terrified fleeing wedding guests, carrying an unconscious and bleeding Patrick. Patrick didn’t look good; his face was quickly losing color.

“She shot him—with a titanium bullet.”

“These people and their
damn
titanium,” Travis cursed.

“She was aiming for me, but Patrick jumped in the way,” I said, my lip trembling.

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” Travis looked down at me, contemplated something quickly and scooped me up. “It’s faster if I just carry you.”

We arrived in the medical clinic to find a cowering Dr. LaCosta. “What on earth is going on?” he asked, standing up unsteadily. “Are we being attacked again?”

“Yes, but that is not the immediate problem,” Alex said as he and Roy gently placed Patrick on a table. “
He
is.”

Dr. LaCosta looked at Patrick in alarm. “He’s been shot.”

“Yes,” Travis replied, looking at his brother.

The doctor reached out a hand toward Patrick and we all yelled in unison. “No!”

“What?” the doctor yelped, startled.

“The bullet’s titanium,” Alex informed him.

“Then what do you want
me
to do? If I leave it in he’ll die and if I take it out he’ll bleed to death.”

“We have to change him,” Roy stated in an unbelievably calm voice.

“He’ll die before the change is complete and even if he
does
make it, the titanium will poison him then,” Dr. LaCosta said apprehensively.

“We have to try, start the transfusion immediately,” Alex ordered, looking at Dr. LaCosta expectantly.

“If we don’t time this just right, he’s going to die,” Dr. LaCosta said anxiously.

“And if we don’t do anything, he sure as hell will!” Travis shouted.

“Will somebody please
do
something? He’s dying!” I screamed, tears rolling down my face unchecked. There was only so much strength one person could possess, and when it was spent there was nothing left.

They all turned to stare at me, bloodied, bound, and wearing nothing but a slip. I dropped down to me knees, unable to keep standing on my weak and trembling legs. I was so scared, so very scared, that my luck had finally run out. That I was going to lose him.

“Nualla,” Travis said in a voice so sad it nearly broke my heart, if it even was possible for it to break anymore than it already was.

He dropped gently to his knees and reached into a pocket concealed somewhere inside his slate-gray
haori
. He pulled something out and took my hands in his. In one swift movement Travis clipped the industrial zip tie that had been binding my hands together. And then he pulled me into a tight hug, cradling my head against his chest. “It’s going to be okay Nualla; Patrick’s going to make it.”

I wanted so badly to believe him, I really did. But seeing Patrick lying there, unresponsive and barely breathing, I didn’t trust my heart enough even to hope.

“We should get started,” Dr. LaCosta announced in a quiet voice. “And pray to the gods for a miracle.”

55

Open Your Eyes

Tuesday, July 3rd

PATRICK

I
opened my eyes. I would have thought I was dead or dreaming, but everything was too sharp—too bright. The sounds that hit my ears were loud, louder than I remembered sound being. Or maybe it was just that I could hear farther? That didn’t seem right. I looked around a room that appeared to be a hotel suite of some kind and tried to remember how I had gotten there.

No luck.

I took stock of the room. A dresser stood in front of me and a small table to the right of it. I panned my eyes around the rest of the room. There was a short hallway to the left that probably lead to a bathroom and exit. At the right side of the room a balcony door stood open, and I could just see the shoulder of someone sitting there.

I got out of the bed and crept as quietly as I could toward the balcony door. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw it was Nualla sitting in a chair, sipping what smelled like coffee. Her knees were pulled up to her chest and she was staring out at nothing. I just stared at her, her pale beautiful skin, her loose curls swaying in the breeze, her horns swirling back from that place just above her ears.

Wait, her horns?

I looked at her in shock; she no longer flickered back and forth between her illusion and what she truly was. She just sat there in all her true glory, which meant I was either dead or—

My hands shot up and hit something solid just above my ears—
horns
. They were small; no bigger than an inch, but they were definitely there. I let out a sound somewhere between a sigh of relief and a shocked gasp and Nualla’s head turned slowly toward me. When she saw that it was me her eyes got wide and she leapt up, the coffee cup smashing to pieces on the ground. My hands flew to my ears and I squeezed my eyes shut.

Geez, when did everything get so loud?

“Patrick!” I opened my eyes in time to see Nualla just before she collided with me. Quicker than I would have thought possible, I moved to cradle her in my arms. “I thought you were going to die,” she sobbed into my chest.

“I thought I was, too,” was the only thing I could think of to say. And then Nualla convulsed in another round of sobs.

I looked over my shoulder and guided her backward to the bed without letting go of her. I was pretty sure if I did she would collapse. At this point a sensible person would have asked questions. But the first thing I did after realizing I wasn’t dead was kiss her. I was so glad I wasn’t dead I couldn’t think of anything else but wanting to be close to her.

Eventually, I did stop kissing her and finally asked, “Nualla, what happened?”

“She shot you; we didn’t think you would make it,” she answered, her lip quivering slightly.

“Nualla,
who
shot me?”

“You don’t remember?” she asked, looking at me with concerned eyes.

I thought back, what
was
the last thing I could remember clearly?

Waking up on Travis’ couch the morning of the wedding.

I tried to remember past that but couldn’t. It was all a tangle of images that didn’t seem to make any real sense. “I can’t remember past waking up on Travis’ couch. Since I’m a daemon now did we…did we get married?” It was the first time I had ever hoped the answer was
no
. I just didn’t think I could live with myself if I couldn’t remember something as important as that.

“No,” Nualla answered in a small voice, she had mostly stopped crying now.

One crisis averted, now to fill in the rest of the gaps in this disaster. “Nualla, can you tell me what happened—from the beginning?”

She took a deep breath. “I was just about to walk out to the temple when Natasha said Alex wanted to talk to me so I followed her. We were walking down the hall and something seemed a bit off, but just as I realized that someone grabbed me from behind and drugged me. When I woke up, Nathan had me tied up in the video surveillance room.”

“Wait, the head of your security is named
Nathan
?” I suddenly had a very sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. “This Nathan, is the same person who was pretending to be my father, isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Nualla answered reluctantly.

Now what I had seen the day of the attack made perfect sense. I thought I had seen my father because I actually
had
. Or should I say the person
pretending
to be my father, anyways. “Wow, he’s even more of a bastard than I thought he was.”

“That’s not even the worst part,” Nualla said timidly.

If the fact that Nathan was a double agent spy wasn’t the worst part, I was afraid to know what
was
.

“Nathan had me tied up in the room with a bomb filled with titanium shrapnel. He was going to make me watch you marry
her
before I blew up.”

I just looked at her in horror, my heart starting to beat uncomfortably fast. “
What
?”

“He was going to kill me, so she could take my place.”

Then the sick feeling got worse. “
Please
tell me I didn’t marry her.”

“No, I escaped and got to you in time. That’s how you got shot. She was aiming for me, but you jumped in the way. It was a titanium bullet—you saved my life.”

That sounded like something I would do. I had been protecting her with complete disregard for myself practically since we met.

There was a small pricking of pain in my chest right under my left collarbone. I moved my fingers up to it; there was something there. I pulled up my shirt quickly, and I looked down at a green silvery scar just under my left collarbone in that space that stopped being my chest and sloped upward into my shoulder. I ran my fingers over it slowly, it was a pitted dent about the size of a quarter, the edges of the skin around it silvery green and pulled up around the circular dent like a moon crater. I was fairly certain it must have nicked my lung at least and that I should be dead right now. I released my hold on my shirt and looked up at Nualla in confusion.

“We couldn’t take the bullet out or you would have bled to death. So we left it in while we started the transfusion and took it out at the last possible moment,” she stated in an emotionless voice.

I just stared at her in disbelief. That was beyond risky; they really must have been desperate.

“We didn’t know what would happen,” she confirmed as she traced a circular pattern across the sheet of the bed.

“But I thought the daemonification process took a week, how did—?”

“We gave you a lot blood. My whole family—even Travis and Shawn and Roy.” I just continued to look at her in shock. “We hoped that if you had blood from a lot of us at once it would change you faster.” Nualla smiled up at me, but then her eyes began to glass up, and she burst into tears again. “But when you didn’t wake up, I thought you never would.”

She thrust herself into my arms, and I held her close. “
Shh
. It’s okay, Nualla, I’m fine now.” I kissed her hair and held her as close as I could. “I’m sorry I made you worry.”

“You made me worry for
weeks
, you idiot,” she sniffled.

“
Weeks
, just how long have I been out?”

“About two and a half weeks.”

“Two and a half
weeks
!” I said incredulously.

I wondered how many tears she had shed in those past few weeks. I think if it had been me waiting I would have cracked long before now. Knowing Nualla, she had probably held strong till it was all over. She was just that type of person. Some people broke down in the face of danger while others broke down only when they knew they had reached safety.

She wiped her eyes on the back of her hand and sighed. “Come on, we should go let people know you’re okay,” she stated as she stood and starting toward the door.

“Yeah, probably,” I agreed as I stood. “Out of curiosity, what did you tell my friends?” I asked as I tried to run my hand through my hair. But all I did was catch my thumb on my right horn.
Sigh
, these things were going to take some getting used to.

“That—is a very long story,” Nualla answered with a grimace.

Travis stopped dead and dropped what he was holding. He just stared at me, completely shocked. “I’m not a ghost, I promise,” I said with an uneasy smile.

He closed the distance between us in two seconds flat and all but tackled me. He hugged me so tightly I was pretty sure that if I
had
still been human it would have broken some ribs. “You
idiot
, why did you have to go and try to get yourself killed?”

“
Me
?
You’re
the one who went to defuse a bomb!” I countered indignantly.

“Yes, but
I
had enough sense to run away when I knew I couldn’t win.”

“Hey, I had a damn good reason for risking my life,” I replied, looking over at Nualla.

Travis looked over at her as well. “Yeah, I guess she
is
a pretty good reason.”

“Best reason in the world,” I replied with a huge grin as I pulled her into my arms. I let my lips brush gently against hers before I closed my eyes and kissed her.

We still had a lot of problems ahead of us and even more unanswered questions. I knew the next few months would probably not be easy. In this world I had become a part of, there didn’t seem to be a whole lot of
easy
to go around. But for now, I just wanted to lose myself in this perfect moment, at least for a little while.