Lincoln stepped forward and sighed. “Put that away before you hurt yourself.”

Party pooper. I retracted the blade, and slipped it back into my boot.

Lincoln looked me up and down. “Pull out your wings. We’ll start with flying.”

My eyes bugged out of my head. Flying? I don’t know why that didn’t even cross my mind.

“Come on, Miss Yoga.” He snapped his fingers as the boys started pulling huge two-foot-thick pads onto the ground.

Oh my God, those are to break my fall.

I looked behind me and twitched my shoulders. Nothing happened. Swallowing hard, I jumped into the air a little and hoped they would pop out upon landing.

No luck.

The back of the suit had two twelve-inch slits for them to come out of, so I knew it wasn’t my shirt keeping them in.

“Umm, how exactly do I get my wings out?” God, it was so embarrassing.

I was sure Lincoln was about to say something jerkish when Blake stepped forward.

“I struggled with it too at first. It’s like learning to walk as a baby. You need to think about raising them, like you would your arms, and they’ll come out. They’ll also appear when you’re in danger.” He was the sweet one, I had decided.

Okay… my eyes closed and I took a deep breath. I imagined my shoulder blades rising, and even arched my back. After an agonizing second, I felt a pop and then a heaviness on my right side. Falling over to my right, I forced my eyes open. All four of them were holding in their laughter.

“What!” I roared. Peering behind me, I saw that I’d only managed to get one wing out.

Kill me now.

Lincoln was the first to be able to control his laughter. He walked over and reached behind me, stroking my exposed left shoulder blade, through the slit in my jumpsuit, with one delicate finger. Chills broke out on my arms as the heat from his skin trailed down my back with the sensual touch. My wing popped out, as I was kneeling there breathlessly, staring at the beautiful asshole who’d been through a tragedy, and then he stepped back.

“Okay, first rule of flying. Don’t die.”

I shook off his sensual touch, and my eyebrows hit my hairline. “Ha. Ha. What are the real rules?”

Noah shrugged. “Our master teachers said the same thing—just don’t die. You’re basically immortal now unless killed, but you can snap your neck if you land wrong.”

I’d been meaning to ask about the immortal rumor but wow, there it was.

Lincoln pointed to a ladder. “Climb up to the top. Let’s see if we can get one good hover before our time is done. You’ll get your weapon in class today, and we’ll start working with it tomorrow.”

“Is now a bad time to mention I’m afraid of heights?”

Lincoln groaned. “Wasting time, Miss Yoga.”

Ugh. I never should’ve said that yoga thing. Maybe I should start doing yoga for real in case he keeps quizzing me.

As I climbed the ladder, I was sure of two things.

All four of them were totally staring at my ass.

I was going to break my neck and die.

Chapter Seven

After mastering a two-second hover where I’d smacked Lincoln in the face with my wing—on complete accident, of course—I’d sat through an hour of history class. Much to my dismay, everyone knew who I was, and stared or pointed at me most of the period. I’d even seen a few of them mouth, “Demon lover.”

Awesome.

I wondered if I should cut bangs to cover my demon slave tattoo, or maybe get some heavy makeup, but what was the point? It’s who I was, and I couldn’t change my future. I might as well live with it.

Now, I was standing in a large gym type of room with walls and walls of every kind of weapon I could think of, nestled in cages with golden locks on them. Our professor, Mr. Claymore, was a Light Mage and looked the part, wearing a long black velvet robe with a silver spiral Light Mage insignia over the breast. His eyes kept flashing silvery gray as he looked each of us in the eye, his gaze lingering on me. I started to squirm as he pinned me with his stare, a heavy feeling pressing on my skin. Then he looked away, and the trance was broken, the feeling fading.

That was intense.

Seeing him all Maged out made me think of Shea. I wondered what she was doing at her delinquent school, wishing she could be with me instead.

“Today is one of the most important days of your life. You’ll find your infinity weapon, and be bound to it for eternity.” His voice boomed around the room, coming at us from all angles.

Say what? Eternity? Bound?

A prissy girl, by the name of Tiffany—who I’d learned from history class was a Light Mage in training—raised her hand. “Is it true that your infinity weapon will speak to you after you’re bonded?”

Either she was high or I hadn’t heard her right. Maybe I was high, because home girl had just asked if our weapons were going to talk to us.

Mr. Claymore shrugged. “It’s different for everyone. A talking infinity weapon is very rare, but each weapon does have a soul, so you’ll feel its personality even if you can’t hear it.”

Everyone is high.

I cleared my throat and raised my hand. “I’m sorry, but how can a weapon have a soul?”

He looked down at his roster and then at my forehead. “Brielle, right?”

Damn this tattoo. I was totally cutting bangs. I nodded.

“In Angel City, we learn all about this in high school, so I’ll forgive you for being unprepared. Infinity weapons were given to us by The Powers. Archangels are humanity’s protectors, and The Powers are the angels of defense, the warriors of Heaven.”

Whoa.

“Right. Cool,” I said. Tiffany released an annoying laugh, causing her flock to laugh with her.

I cut her with a glare, but before I could think more on it the professor clapped, and all of the locks on the cages clicked open, falling to the floor. With another clap, the cages sprung wide open, and we all let out a collective “Ahhh.”

Magic was cool, I’d give him that.

“Now, finding your infinity weapon can be a challenge. Be patient. It’ll call to you—you’ll feel a kindred attraction toward it. A love for it. It’ll feel right, like you’ve been waiting for it your whole life,” he explained.

“If that’s it, then coffee is my infinity weapon,” I muttered softly, making a few students near me giggle.

The professor gestured to the cases. “These weapons will carry you through every battle for the rest of your life, so choose wisely.”

A few students started walking toward the cases while I hung back, firmly in the “do not want to pick first” group. Next to me, a gorgeous young guy with overly tweezed eyebrows and black hair gave me a hip bump. “I’m Luke,” he whispered.

I chuckled at his overfriendly hip bump. “Bri.” My gaydar was going off pretty hard, so I wasn’t worried that he was hitting on me, or anything sleazy.

He nodded. “Let’s just get this out there.” He gestured to my forehead. “My aunt is demon bound, she has that whole forehead thing going on, so I understand, and I’m totally cool with it.”

I smiled. Genuinely. “Good to know.” I glanced at the insignia on the breast of his jumpsuit indicating he was a Beast Shifter. Demon gifted.

I think I just made my first friend. “Shall we?” I gestured to the cages.

He looked apprehensively at Tiffany, who’d just picked up a large sword that was glowing quite brightly in her hands.

“Ladies first.” He winked.

Great.

Taking a deep breath, I walked slowly past one cage, feeling for something that made me want to love it as much as I did coffee, but I came up with nothing. I passed to the second cage, filled with a bunch of bows and arrows. Luke was lingering behind me, and stopped to gasp a little at the cage holding the bows. I went still, pivoting to look at him as he reached for a solid gold bow. As his hand moved closer, the bow started to glow a faint blue.

“Ah, the arrows of truth. A very fine weapon, young man. You should be honored,” Mr. Claymore stated.

When Luke’s hand curled around the bow, his lips popped open in surprise. One by one, the students found their glowy weapons; upon retrieving them, they went to the back of the room to wait.

There were only three of us left now, and I had passed by nearly every cage. My heart started beating crazily in my chest. What if I don’t have an infinity weapon? Should I just grab one and fake it? But if I did that, it probably wouldn’t light up.

The last two students found their weapons, and then all eyes were on me. Luke was the only one giving me a look of pity; everyone else seemed… annoyed, like, God why do we have to wait for her?

“This is not a process we rush. Take your time, Brielle,” the professor announced, making me even more mortified.

As I stepped over to the last case, I felt something stir within me. My stomach churned with excitement, and it felt like I was standing near open electricity. I scanned the rows of daggers, my heart pounding wildly in my chest.

‘Over here, winged one,’ a small female voice said inside my head, making me leap backward two feet.

Now the class was really staring at me, but not as hard as the professor. He stepped closer, gaping at me like I was topless, or something.

‘Second row, third one over. Come on, love, let’s get this over with. I’ve been waiting a long time for this,’ the tiny voice spoke again.

Holy mother of all things crazy.

‘You’re… talking to me?’ I said, wondering if I’d finally lost my mind. I was overdue.

She gave a little groan. ‘Second row, third one over. Come on, hon. You can do it.’

Now I was taking far too long and looking far too stupid. In a rush, I charged the case and grabbed the silver dagger that was in the second row, third one over. When I wrapped my fingers around it, a blinding light shot out, at the same time that a great energy ripped through me. It was hard to describe—it was pleasure, the kind I would feel if I got to see my dad again, but mixed with a tremendous power, like I could rip a steel door in half. My wings popped out of my back, causing the entire class to gasp, and I was brought to my knees as the power continued to swirl around me, the breeze lifting my hair.

‘I’m Sera,’ the dagger told me. I felt her, like she was a person, an old friend. It was the weirdest and yet most comforting thing I’d ever experienced.

‘Brielle, but you can call me Bri.’ I felt stupid introducing myself to a knife, but hey, there were weirder things in the world.

“Incredible,” the professor breathed.

The wind had died down, and although my legs were shaky, I was able to stand. All I could do was stare at the dagger in my hands. It was about nine inches long, most of that the blade, with a short golden hilt that was engraved and encrusted with shimmery pearl-like stones.

“A seraph blade. I didn’t even know we had one in there,” Mr. Claymore gushed.