Daemons in the Mist (The Marked Ones Trilogy: Book One) Read Free Page A

weren’t nearly as potent as his persuasion abilities, trust me I had learned that one the hard way.
    In one swift motion Michael reached out and slammed me against the locker. “Enough of your games, Nualla! We both know you are not going to choose a human mate, so why do you keep picking them and not—”
    “And not you , you mean? Because I would rather have anyone’s company than yours.”
    Michael stood there silently, looking just the slightest bit stunned, but he didn’t remove his hold on my shoulders. The truth was I could say all the snide things I wanted, but I couldn’t get away. He was much stronger than me. He knew it. I knew it.
    The bell rang and the last remaining students fled the halls. I closed my eyes and made a desperate silent plea for help even though I knew it was hopeless.
    And then something weird happened.
    I heard the faintest clatter—nearly inaudible to the human ear—and then an unfamiliar voice demanded, “Get your hands off of her— now .”
    My eyes shot open, and both Michael and I turned in the same moment to stare. In the hall stood a guy I had never seen before.
    “Who the hell are you ?” Michael said, in a voice that nearly betrayed just how surprised he was. Which was exactly what I was thinking. I had attended Bayside Academy all four years and could never remember seeing this guy before—and that’s saying a lot considering the school is pretty damn small.
    “It doesn’t matter who I am, that’s no way to treat a girl. Especially one who’s not your girlfriend,” the guy answered, glaring at Michael.
    I could feel Michael’s hold on my shoulders tighten. This guy had found Michael’s one fatal flaw—his pride. It was common knowledge that Michael got whatever he wanted. However, only a few people knew that Michael coveted one thing more than anything else on earth. The one thing he couldn’t seem to possess. Me. But somehow this guy had figured that out and had thrown it in Michael’s face. The guy was either supremely lucky, or had a death wish.
    “I said, let. Her. Go ,” the mysterious guy demanded, taking a step closer.
    “What are you, a white knight or something?” Michael asked with disdain as his hands slipped from my shoulders.
    The guy crossed his arms. “When worthless punks like you make me. So yeah, I guess today, I am.”
    Michael glared at him with a look more deadly than I had ever seen him use; his hands balling up into fists at his sides. I just gaped at the stranger, he might as well have just poked an enraged tiger with a sharp stick. This was about to get ugly.
    “ Excuse me ?” Michael said in a low, deadly voice, shaking with barely contained anger. I was sure Michael had probably never been insulted like that in his entire life, and the shock had already begun to wear off.
    “You heard me,” the stranger said, standing up a little taller. He was about an inch shorter than Michael, but was built far more solidly—though I doubted this would help him much if they started throwing punches.
    I squeezed my eyes shut; I knew what was coming, and I really didn’t want to see it.
    I waited for the sound of fist meeting face, but when I didn’t, I opened one eye. Michael was standing with one fist slightly out, looking at something beyond the stranger. I opened my other eye and leaned around the boys for a better look. Apparently the fates had not designed for the stranger to die today, because the one person Michael feared at the school, was coming down the hall looking at a tablet in his hands.
    When he was only a few feet from us, Mr. Savenrue, Bayside Academy’s only daemon teacher, finally looked up. “Mr. Tammore, Miss Galathea, what are you doing in the hall? Class started nearly five minutes ago.” Mr. Savenrue looked over at the strange guy, a look of confusion briefly crossing his face. “Are you new here? I can’t seem to remember your name.”
    “Patrick, Patrick Connolly. I’m in your first period class, sir,”