I still couldn’t believe I’d gotten her out of there. That I was out of there. I rubbed my forehead in disbelief at the slave mark being gone.
Swinging my leg gently over the bed, I gestured to the pile. “Help me find some clothes.” There was no way I could put that torn and bloody jumpsuit back on.
Shea rummaged through, and found a pair of large smelly sweat pants, and a too-tight tank top. After I shimmied into them, we both looked at my clothes and burst out laughing. “It’s going to be a rough two weeks until we get paid,” Shea admitted, once she’d calmed a bit.
I winced. “Maybe my mom can send Mikey with some underwear.”
Shea nodded, hopeful. “Please God, yes. I don’t want to free-ball it unless I absolutely have to.”
After we filled the backpack with a water bottle, headphones, a hoodie, two gym shirts and an umbrella, we checked out of the clinic, and searched the grounds for our room. We quickly got lost and realized Shea had been reading the map upside down.
Once I took over, we found Bright Hall. The common room was bustling with students, the female-only Bright Hall sharing the room with the all-male Stone Hall. I was thrilled when I saw Luke and Angela, introducing Shea before giving them a brief rundown of what had happened. After their shock subsided, they were super enthusiastic that we’d both be attending the academy full-time.
“Oh my God, girl, now I have someone to freak out over the gauntlet with,” Luke squealed.
“The gauntlet?” Shea asked warily.
Angela leaned in. “It’s the end-of-year test to graduate you,” she whispered. “If you fail, you go home, and good luck getting a magical job. You’ll end up with some shitty human job, maybe private security for a rich human family. If you pass, you’re admitted into the second year here.”
My eyes widened. I’d imagined a written test, maybe a few sword moves, but the gauntlet? “Well, you’re a third year. Can you tell us how hard it was?”
She shook her head. “We’ve all been spelled not to. But trust me, you’ll need every advantage you can get, so study hard. That’s all I can say.”
The lights suddenly flickered, and we were told we needed to go to our rooms for lights out. Once we bid Angela and Luke good night, we made our way down the hall to room 11.
Leaning against the doorframe was Tiffany.
When her eyes landed on me, they narrowed, jumping from my outfit to Shea’s death mark, and then to my crutches. Finally they rested on my forehead.
“What happened to your slave mark, Archie?” she crooned, still blocking our door.
I glanced at Shea, who looked absolutely feral, then shrugged. “It must’ve rubbed off on Lincoln’s chest while we were in the back of my car.”
Her whole face flared red, anger boiling out of every pore. “Enjoy the room. It used to be mine, and now I have to share.” She blasted past me, knocking into my shoulder.
Pain shot up from my tailbone at the jostling.
“I can make her hair fall out. I learned how at Tainted Academy,” Shea growled.
I waved my hand. “She’s not worth it. She’s obsessed with Lincoln, so I’m pretty sure I just ruined her night.”
Shea grinned. “That was a really good line, I must say.”
With a laugh, I opened the door. The room was small but cozy and clean. It had a window in the middle of the back wall, and a twin bed with drawers underneath on each side of the space. Typical dorm style. There was shelving high above the beds, about two feet from the ceiling, that wrapped around the room, containing books and other magical items. I spotted jars of weird-looking things, like frog legs on Shea’s side, and on mine were books on the angelic realm and other Celestial-related things.
“Whoa. At Tainted we had to pay for all our books.” She stepped up on the powder-blue bedspread and started rummaging through the volumes. At the end of each bed was a desk, and mine held a new class schedule.
“Hey, we got new schedules. Check yours,” I told her.
When my eyes fell on my new start time of 8:00 a.m., I nearly wept. Reading more, I started to laugh. Lincoln had clearly made my schedule.
Brielle Atwater
Fallen History 8 a.m.-9 a.m. (Room 506, Mrs. Delacourt)
You may retrieve your dagger from Lincoln’s trailer at 9:01 a.m.
Battle Class 9:05 a.m.-10 a.m. (Room 511, Master Bradstone)
Weapons 10:05 a.m.-11 a.m. (Room 405, Mr. Claymore)
Lunch 11:05 a.m.-11:55 a.m. (Dining hall)
Celestial Master Studies 12 p.m.-2 p.m., 30 mins each master teacher. (Training Hall 304)
Studies of Light 2:05 p.m.-3 p.m. (Room 401, Mr. Rinecor)
3:01 PM RETURN YOUR DAGGER TO LINCOLN’S TRAILER OR ELSE.
He was so grumpy.
After comparing our schedules, I was sad to see I only had two classes with Shea, battle class and weapons, but it was getting late, and I felt like I’d been hit by a truck. Pulling my dead phone out of my messenger bag I groaned, it was useless without the charger that was right next to my bed back home. I’d have to borrow someone’s phone tomorrow and call my mom, make sure she and Mikey were okay, and that she would continue to take care of Bernie and Maximus without me there.
I didn’t bother showering, just crawled into bed. “I’m glad we’re in this together,” I mumbled to Shea.
She peered at me. “Me too. And if you want blondie’s hair to fall out, just say the word.”
I fell asleep with a smile on my face.
Chapter Eleven
Shea and I were relieved to hear that three meals and two snacks a day were included in the free tuition here, so it looked like we just needed to earn enough money to pay for personal items.
I was so nervous to see Lincoln after everything that had happened, that I nearly threw up that morning during breakfast. I’d eaten two bites of my oatmeal, and then my stomach threatened to upheave it, so I pushed it away. I’d awoken to find that I no longer needed my crutches, and other than some slight throbbing pain when I walked and itching around my stiches, I was healed. It would take a while to get used to that.
Shea said she wasn’t nervous, but I knew she was. We’d both gone to the seamstress to get new jumpsuits early that morning, but Rose didn’t have any more long-sleeved ones. That meant Shea’s Death Mark was on full display.
“It’ll be gone in a few days,” I reminded her.
She just nodded, keeping her arm tucked across her chest. When the bell sounded, both of us jumped a little.
“Okay… I’ll see you in battle class,” I told her.
She nodded again.
I sat through history trying not to doze off. Everyone had heard the story. Lucifer rose from Hell to wreak havoc on Earth, a war broke out in Heaven, the archangels fell to fight Lucifer, yada yada. Then we all got powers, and now we were screwed. But when Professor Delacourt, a centaur, started talking about Raphael, my attention snapped back to the lesson.
“Lucifer unleashed his creatures onto the Earth, intending to build a bridge to the angelic realms so they could climb, and then wipe out all of the Creator’s most blessed creatures. But it was Raphael who decided to lead the fight and come to Earth, meeting them head on before they could go through with their plan, and kill the angels.”
They didn’t teach that in Demon City.
She continued pointing to a poster with drawings of the different angels in a form of hierarchy. “Up here at the very top we have the Seraphim, the guardians of the Creator’s throne.”
I was practically hanging off my seat with interest now. The Seraphim were who was rumored to have made my dagger.
“Then the Cherubim, angels of harmony and wisdom. The Thrones, angels of will and justice. The Dominions, who are the angels of intuition and guide the lower angels on their paths.”
Her hand lifted, pointing to a picture of an angel holding a scale. “The Virtues, angels of choice. The Powers, who are my personal favorite,” she crooned. “They’re the warrior angels.”
Whoa. I had no idea there were so many kinds. I raised my hand and she pointed to me. “Brielle?”
“So, is Michael a warrior angel?”
She shook her head. “He is one of the lowest, and yet most noble angels. An archangel, which are the protectors of mankind.”
I didn’t know why I was emotional over her words, but I was. A war broke out and the lowest rung of angels, the archangels, left the realm and fell to help humanity?
“Why didn’t The Powers or whatever do anything?” I asked.
She sighed. “I don’t know, but a war broke out in the angelic realm over it. There are a lot of rules, and Raphael and the other archangels broke some of them to come here.”
They broke the rules. Whoa. Did they get in trouble? Before I could ask, the bell rang.
I had four minutes to get to Lincoln’s trailer and retrieve Sera, then go to battle class.
Snatching my bag, I took off, limping through the quad. I still had stiches in my thigh, so I had to be careful. The angelic healing had worked wonders, but a little bit of man’s medicine was needed as well. I tore across the parking lot as quickly as I could, and hobbled up the steps to his trailer. Whipping out my key, I thrust it into the lock, and flung the door open.
Lincoln was sitting at the dining room table, eating scrambled eggs, and an apple. My dagger was on the bench next to him.
“Geez! Do you have to bust in here like a cop? Feel free to knock next time, and see if I’m home,” he groaned.
I was panting like a wild animal, my mouth dry from breathing openmouthed on my way here. I hadn’t expected Lincoln to be there. I didn’t know what to say to him. He was acting totally normal, like we hadn’t almost died together. Like I hadn’t called him hot.
“I didn’t think you’d be home,” I said between gasps.
He nodded. “Took the day off to finish healing.”
Healing. He was hurt.
I swallowed hard, trying to find saliva so I didn’t look like a horse with my lips stuck to my teeth. “Hey, about yesterday… thank you so much for what you did.”
He nodded. “And?” He pinned me with a blue-eyed glare.
A frown scrunched my brows. “And… I’m sorry?” I winced.
“And.” He added with a nod.
I growled. “I’m sorry I almost got us killed, but Shea’s my family! I couldn’t leave her.”
“And?” His eyes opened like a crazy person.
I crossed my arms. “And what?” The asshat was going to make me late.
“And you will never, ever do anything like that again.” His hands balled to fists.
I rolled my eyes. “Obviously. I’m not that stupid.” Of course I wasn’t going to make a habit out of fighting higher-level demons, and almost dying.
He grinned. “Are you sure?”
I stepped forward, snatching the dagger off the seat with one hand, and his apple with the other, taking a bite to wet my mouth. “Later.” I slammed the apple down on the table, sans one bite, and left.