The Marked Girl by Lindsey Klingele

came back with coffee, Liv put in the order. She warmed up her hands on the side of the white ceramic mug for a moment before opening up a packet of creamer andpouring it in. Cedric watched her with an intense concentration, as though he’d never seen anyone put cream in coffee before.
    â€œOkay, so level with me. Were you, like, raised in one of those really strict religions that doesn’t let you watch television or go outside on Sundays?”
    Cedric shook his head, slowly.
    â€œSo what are you, aside from a museum employee? If you’re even that? I mean, I saw how you moved in that alley . . . that must have taken some serious training.”
    Cedric looked out the window. Liv didn’t know what she expected him to say. Was he a martial arts expert? A speed freak? When he spoke, his voice sounded tired.
    â€œI am a Guardian . . . and a prince.”
    Liv tried not to react, but knew her eyebrows had shot up nearly into her forehead. She tried to hide it by taking a sip of coffee.
    â€œNever seen a prince work for minimum wage before.”
    Cedric shook his head. “I told you that you would not believe me. No one has, not since we arrived.”
    â€œBy ‘we,’ you mean you and Katerina, right? And there was another boy under the bridge. Is it just the three of you?”
    â€œOnly us,” Cedric said, then looked abruptly away, toward the window.
    â€œCedric, are you . . . are you living down there? In the tunnels?”
    Cedric’s eyes flashed over to Liv. “You cannot tell anyone where we are. If they found out . . .”
    â€œWho? The people at the museum?”
    â€œYes. And others.”
    Liv’s voice dropped low. “So what kind of trouble are you in?”
    Cedric looked away, and Liv sighed. He wasn’t going to make this easy on her.
    â€œWe only want to get home.”
    â€œOkay. Where’s home?”
    Cedric knitted his eyebrows together, as if he was trying to solve a complex problem.
    â€œCaelum.”
    Liv brought the cup of coffee to her lips, running the name over in her mind. “Is that in Canada?”
    Cedric shook his head. “It is difficult to explain. . . .”
    â€œWell, the night is young, and Rita doesn’t exactly give me a curfew, so . . . take your time.”
    â€œCaelum is another place . . . that is not this place. Another world. I came to this world through a portal.”
    â€œOh, a portal . Well, that makes sense.”
    Cedric’s jaw tightened. “You are mocking me.”
    Liv felt a tug of guilt. “No, sorry, it’s just . . . a portal, you say?”
    It didn’t seem like Cedric was intentionally messing with her, and anyway, why would he do that? Why make up such an elaborate lie for a complete stranger?
    Maybe he didn’t think it was a lie at all. Liv had seen kids with mental illnesses before. Schizophrenia, delusions, even just drug-induced craziness. She remembered a boy named Ryan who’d lived with her in the same group home for a while. Ryan’s story was tragic—his mother had died right after he was born,and his father had been abusive—and Ryan had a tendency to retreat into a fantasy world in his mind to survive. The social worker who ran the home had explained to Liv that whenever Ryan talked about being afraid of “the dragon,” he was really referring to his father. Ryan had never frightened Liv, and he really was a generally sweet kid to be around, so long as you didn’t touch his Fruit Roll-Ups.
    Whatever his situation, Cedric, too, seemed more sad than dangerous to Liv as he stared down at a plastic carton of sugar packets. She definitely wasn’t afraid of him.
    â€œThat thing that attacked you tonight . . . it is called a wrath,” Cedric continued. “And I was born to fight them.”
    Cedric reached for Liv’s torn-up packet of creamer across the table. He spoke quickly, and he kept his eyes focused on his