Page 3 of My Guardian Demon

I laughed. "Smartass. Good night, Onnie. Nice meeting you. Well, you know what I mean."

"Night, Wynnie. Sweet dreams."

I felt that shift in the room again, but this time it felt like a vacuum sucked the energy out of the air — like the presence disappeared. An icy chill ran down my spine and goosebumps dotted my skin.

I didn't care what Onyx said — this place sure felt haunted to me.

Chapter 2

Wynn

I sipped my coffee and stared at the mailboxes. They were all mounted like P.O. boxes into the wall of the apartment complex's mailroom.

My neighbor, "Onyx Donahue" according to his mailbox, was right — the landlord put labels on the front of everyone's mailboxes printed with their full name. Yes, it was an indoor mail room, but still. If Eston got inside this building, he would immediately know that "Wynn Harrison" lived in apartment 105.

I stepped forward to my box and scraped my nail against the metal behind the label. I gritted my teeth at the unpleasant sensation but kept at it. Once I had the corner peeled far enough, I carefully pulled the label off in one piece.

"What do you think you're doing?" a deep voice boomed behind me.

I shrieked and almost dropped my coffee. I spun around to find my landlord glaring at me from the doorway.

Who knew the small, aging man could have such an intimidating voice? I sighed with relief. Despite the man's frailty, I was still shorter than him.

"Mr. Trent. Good morning. I was about to stop by your office."

"To tell me why you're defacing my property?" He ran a hand over his gray, thinning hair then shoved his hands into his pants pockets. The corners of his eyes wrinkled as he scrutinized me.

"Yes. I can't have my name on my mailbox like this."

"Why not?"

"I have an abusive ex. He's been stalking me. This," I waved the label, "will tell him exactly where to find me if he ever tracks me here. I'd rather make him work harder than that."

Understanding flashed in the old man's eyes. "Is this ex going to be a problem?"

"I hope not. I moved across the country and only told a few people I trust where I was going. He'd better not show up here. But in case, I'd prefer that my mailbox look like the apartment is empty rather than advertise my name."

"Fine. Don't deface anything else. And let me know if this ex becomes an issue. Good day, Ms. Harrison."

"Thank you. Happy Friday, Mr. Trent."

He grunted an acknowledgement, then turned and left the room.

I wadded up the label and tossed it in the trash bin by the door.

One 'to-do' down, about a billion more to go.

I quickly finished my coffee, the last gulp of caramel dancing on my taste buds, and threw away my to-go cup. I had places to be. I walked out of the mailroom into the short hallway and pushed through the front door.

The sunshine washed over me instantly. I drew a deep breath and tilted my face toward the morning sun. The cozy, small town atmosphere and the fresh air of my new neighborhood comforted me instantly. I loved it.

I adjusted the straps on my backpack and walked up the block.

New student orientation began at 9:30 today, then classes started on Monday. I planned to spend the day exploring campus and my new town.

As a senior, I knew the student routine by heart — I only had to figure out the new campus. Unfortunately, after the events that led to a restraining order against Eston, I had to leave my old school. I needed a fresh start, so I transferred my credits to a school across the country.

I rounded the corner, and the sign for Martopia College came into view. It scrolled boldly across a decorative wrought-iron gate at the front entrance to the school. I pulled the campus map out of my back pocket, quickly figured out my destination, and walked to the building for orientation.

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