My Heart be Damned (10 page)

I watched her leave with a small smile. She was the only adult in this stupid place I would even consider turning to with my problems. Turning my attention back to the task at hand, I flicked through all my practically unused books until my fingers found my history text.

“Looks like I’ve got a date with Henry XII tonight,” I said to myself, grabbing the stiff spine. Then the lights went out all around me.

I spun around, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. My whole body flooded with such a dark force that I stumbled back. The Damned were here, and I was alone and weaponless. This was getting old.

Chapter Nine

Helping Hand

Quietly, I turned back to my locker and began rifling through it, trying to find anything I could use as a weapon. Nothing. With a sigh, I closed it and sucked in a deep breath. There was a fire axe in a glass case by reception. Maybe I could get to it in time.

My riding boots squeaked against the shiny linoleum. My only advantage was that this was my turf. I knew this school like the back of my hand. They didn’t. Keeping to the shadows, I crept slowly, eyes peeled, body on full alert. I didn’t dare breathe. Fighting moves and techniques ran through my mind like a movie on fast forward. I could not let them get the better of me this time.

I reached the lobby without being intercepted, and praying I wouldn’t make too much noise, slammed my first through the glass and pulled out the fire axe. It felt sturdy and powerful in my hands. I swung it a few times, making sure, I really had a grip on it, but then something rushed at me from behind. Falling forwards, the axe slipped out of my hands and skidded across the reception into the waiting area.

I jumped up to my feet, spinning around to block a punch aimed straight for my face. It was the dark haired female again, but this time, she somehow looked ten times more menacing. A gleam in her eyes showed how personal this had gotten. She punched at me again. I sidestepped it, throwing my arm out, and ramming it into her face. She stumbled back and grabbed my arm, pushing me face first into a wall.

“This time, you die,” she hissed. Her nails dug into my shoulders as she pulled me back and threw me across the reception. Luckily, I landed right by the dropped axe. Quickly, I grabbed it and flipped to my feet, charging at her. A satisfying feeling flooded my stomach as I saw her begin to back away from me. I swung it at her just as her companion rushed over. He tried to grab at the axe in my hands, but I sidestepped it. I whacked the blunt end right into his head. He staggered and fell back.

The woman’s hands shot up, and we wrestled for control of the axe for a few moments until she managed to loosen my hold on it and the axe flew to the side. Before I could blink, her fist dove straight into my face. She went to hit me again, but I blocked it and spun around, butterfly kicking her in the jaw.

“
Amerie
!”

As I turned to the voice, she nailed me with a right hook and I dropped to the floor, my vision blurring. I could just about see her, looming over me, ready to hit me again, when she was dragged off, down the hall. My vision cleared somewhat and I stumbled to my feet, staring at the new fight in progress, totally in shock. She was fighting Marshall. Marshall was fighting her!

“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.