Lincoln Grey lit a fire within me. I wasn’t sure if it was a good one or a bad one, but I was engulfed in the heat nonetheless.

The rest of the week passed rather quickly.

Shea had her death mark removed, but not before everyone saw it. Tiffany was now referring to us as Archie and Darky respectively. Being that Shea was a woman of color, she didn’t take too well to the nickname, and had ‘accidentally’ tripped in the lunchroom and spilled scalding-hot soup all over Tiffany’s chest. It was the highlight of my week. Shea would normally have rearranged her face, but we had a good thing going at the school, so she wasn’t going to mess it up, and get kicked out over name-calling. At least not yet. Tiffany hadn’t called her Darky since then, so I think it worked.

Mikey had dropped off two huge duffel bags of our stuff, including homemade cookies, and a sweet note from my mom. Now that I had my phone charger, I was able to call and text her. Her new boss was Grim, the demon I’d almost killed to free Shea. Whoops. He and Master Burdock had an agreement that if he was killed, Master Grim would inherit his clinic and contracts. I guess because Lincoln had cut off Burdock’s horns, he couldn’t be reanimated. Thank God for that. My mom mentioned that Master Grim was so busy with his strip clubs, that he let her run the clinic, so she was actually alone most of the time there, and happier for it.

“Dude, when was the last time we went to a club?” Shea asked, eyeing the flyer for Chloe’s birthday party at her dad’s club that night.

“Like a year,” I told her, rummaging through my clothes. “God, Mikey and my mom packed all practical clothes. Nothing cute,” I griped.

Angela and Luke were in our room. Luke was doing Angela’s makeup, carefully applying black thick winged eyeliner. He paused from reaching for her false eyelashes and she nodded at me. “You guys can raid my closet. You’re a bit taller, Bri, but otherwise we’re about the same size.”

Shea and I shared a conspiratorial look.

“You sure?” Shea asked.

She’d spent like six hours after class the night before, rolling her curly hair into twists, then slept on a silk pillowcase. Now the curls hung chin high, like perfect little wrapped locks. She was clearly more excited for the party than I was. She’d met my Celestial master teachers, and was crushing on Noah hard.

I’d started work at the healing clinic, where Mrs. Greely informed me that Noah was in charge, second to her, and assured me my healing lessons would start there with the smaller cases. Other than hovering, doing basic karate and blocking, I hadn’t learned to do any of my Celestial magic yet.

“I’m sure. I have a hot red silk jumper that would look great with your skin tone, Shea,” Angela encouraged.

You didn’t have to tell us twice. We tore down the hall laughing, then spent the next thirty minutes making a mess of her closet. Shea had indeed decided on the red jumper. The pants were straight-legged and tight in the butt while the top was sleeveless. We’d have to duct-tape Shea’s big boobs because apparently my mom didn’t think a strapless bra was a necessity.

After much deliberating, I’d decided on royal blue silk shorts with a lace hem, and a black silk corset top. It was more revealing than I normally wore, but Shea assured me I looked totally boneable—her words, not mine. Considering I’d only ‘boned’ one guy, and it was the most awkward thirty seconds of my life—thank you, junior prom—I wasn’t looking to do so with anyone that night.

Shea had picked her infinity weapon in class, a small fist-size circular blade that you could grasp like wolverine claws. She tucked that blade into her purse now. Even Angela was bringing a weapon.

“Should I get Sera?” I asked them.

Angela nodded. “We’re Fallen Academy students in the middle of a war. It’s rare, but attacks inside Angel City do happen.”

I wondered if Lincoln was home. I was wearing my trusty boots, so I could just slip it inside, and no one would know.

Lincoln hadn’t said anything about taking my car back now that I lived in Angel City, so I was just going to keep driving it until he did. I pulled off my key, and handed it to Angela. “Meet you in my car in five,” I told her, then took off running with Lincoln’s trailer key in my hand.

He had been very short and businesslike in our time together during trainings, only showing up for his thirty-minute slot, and keeping the social talk to a minimum unless he was making fun of me, at which time he proceeded to talk to no end. I had no idea what he did at nine thirty on a Friday night, but I was hoping he wasn’t home, so I wouldn’t have to deal with that twice in one day.

As I jogged across the parking lot, I saw the lights were on in the trailer, but his motorcycle was gone.

Hmm….

Jumping up the first few steps, I knocked hard. If he answered, I would just play dumb, and tell him I was coming to ‘ask permission’ to take my dagger to a club. Said club could get dangerous, etc.

I stood there an entire minute and knocked again.

Nothing.

Using my key, I popped open the door and crept inside, feeling like a burglar as I looked left and right. No one home. Whew. I shut the door behind me, and tiptoed across the space to grab the dagger that sat atop the kitchen table where I’d left it that afternoon.

Just as I was spinning to leave, the bathroom door popped open and Lincoln stepped out, dripping wet, waist covered in a towel.

Good Lord, what a body. I froze with my mouth open, just staring at his chiseled chest. When a bead of water dripped from his neck and down his six-pack into his V—oh God, he has a V—I exhaled louder than I should have. Okay, I moaned. I freaking moaned.

Kill me now.

“Brielle!” His eyes roamed across my bare shoulders, down my exposed legs, and then back up to my face.

“I… knocked. Twice.” I couldn’t form words. What’s my name? Where am I?

His gaze landed on my dagger in hand and his eyes narrowed. “What are you doing?”

“Uhhh, well.” I ran a hand through my long blonde hair, loosening the curls with the nervous gesture. “There’s a party tonight at a club, and Angela said attacks can happen, and I thought—”

“You’re going to Chloe’s party?” He sounded surprised.

I put a hand on my hip. “Yes. I have friends, you know.” Kind of. Four of them.

He swallowed, seeming to finally grasp that he was standing there half-naked and wet, and I was just staring at him like I wanted to lick the water off his chest.

‘We like him. I’ve decided,’ Sera said. I chose to ignore her comment.

“Fine, take it. Don’t do anything stupid though.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’ll try, but no promises.” Turning to grasp the door handle, I paused and spun to look at him once more. “Are you going too?” I asked. He sounded like he knew of Chloe’s party.

He nodded. “If you would finally leave, so I can get dressed.”

My eyes sharpened and I reached out, snagging a pear from the counter before slamming the door behind me.

“Stop stealing my food, woman!” he roared out the window.

I just grinned. Every time he pissed me off, I was stealing a piece of fruit. By the time the year was over, I’d have a whole orchard.

Chapter Twelve

“Brielle!” Chloe shrieked as we stepped into the club. She was greeting people at the entrance, literally just a blue door, and then two flights downstairs that led us underground.

I smiled, giving her a hug, and introduced Shea. She was super welcoming, hugging Shea and Angela, and Luke as well. We gave her our gift, a potion to change her hair color for a month, which Angela had made. Chloe loved it and gave us tickets to the VIP booth before shooing us inside.

The moment we stepped into the space, I was assaulted with music, lights and warm bodies pressed against mine. There was a stage with a live singer who had purple hair, and over her head hung the club’s logo, a moon with the third eye inside of it. Under that a sign read, “Happy Birthday, Chloe.”

“Can I have my next birthday here?” Shea begged, linking her arm with mine.

I laughed. “Sure, just don’t expect me to rent out the VIP lounge.” I smacked the VIP tickets on her arm and she grinned.

“All right, I’m broke as hell, so let’s get some guys to buy us drinks.” Shea shook her cleavage to drive the point home.

This was an eighteen-and-up club, but I was pretty sure they carded at the bar. “And what will you be drinking, missy?” I asked her, trying to scream over the music.

She rolled her eyes and snatched the tickets from my hand. “Don’t mom out on me,” she growled. “They have Mage drinks here. Similar to the donuts. Bliss drinks, etc.” She walked toward the red roped-off entrance of the VIP section.

Ugh, I wasn’t momming out. I was… okay, I was momming out.

Screw it. I need to relax, and dance, and let go of this week.

After getting past the big Nightblood at the VIP entrance, we stepped into an open, less-crowded space.

Noah, Darren and Blake were all leaning against the bar. When we walked in, Blake caught my eye and waved me over.

“OhmygodNoah’shere,” Shea rushed out.

I nodded. “Be careful, he seems like a player.”

She shrugged, looking him up and down. “I don’t mind getting played.”

I rolled my eyes. She said that now, but when she was crying herself to sleep because he cheated on her, I’d hear a different story. We reached the boys, and I introduced everyone again, as Luke and Shea had only met the boys once.

“Who wants a drink?” Noah asked, eyes on Shea.

“Bri and I will take a bliss bomb,” she told him with a sugary smile.

He nodded, looking seductively at her, and then took Luke’s and Angela’s orders next—a mellow margarita for Luke, and a water for Angela.

“Boring!” Shea shouted at her.

She laughed. “Someone has to watch over you kids.”

“Ha! You’re like barely older,” Luke snapped.

She sucked her finger and stuck it in his ear, making him squeal. They were so cute. Nothing like Mikey and me, who were always at each other’s throats. My mom said it was the shock of her life to find out she was pregnant with Mikey when I was ten weeks old. I couldn’t believe that just next year Mikey would be at school with me.

The drinks came, and after a few sips, I started to laugh. They were just like the donuts.

“Let’s dance!” I shouted, chugging the rest of my drink and dragging Shea, Blake and the entire crew to the private VIP dance floor.

I quickly learned that Darren was the joker of the group, challenging us to a dance-off, and battling with some pretty hilarious moves. Shea twerked all over him, making him go rigid and wide-eyed, then finished with a booty slap that had Luke and me in peals of laughter. Shea didn’t give a shit. Ever. And I loved her for it.