Healing people sucked. It hurt. Literally. I healed a cut on Shea’s leg for practice and it hurt my leg. Healers had to be super selfless, which was surprising considering how self-absorbed Noah seemed.

My private training sessions with Lincoln were torture in so many ways. The sexual tension was so thick, I could cut it with a knife. Of course, I had zero clue if he was feeling it too, since he was always barking orders at me, and scowling when I held a weapon wrong. I, on the other hand, was finding ways to touch him—an arm graze here, a bump into him there. I had it bad, and it was pathetic. He’d taken my key to his trailer back, and seemed completely uninterested in me sexually. Meanwhile, I was thinking about the way those water droplets had rolled down his V on a daily basis.

“Miss Atwater?”

My eyes snapped to the front where Mr. Rincor, a Celestial with Gabriel’s power, was shooting glowing sparks out of his hands.

The issue with my studies of light class was there were only two students, a senior named Fred, who had Gabriel powers, and me. Mr. Rincor was his master teacher. With only two students in the class, it was easy for him to tell that I wasn’t paying attention.

“Yep?” I tried to act like I was super extra paying attention. Eyes wide and alert, I pinned them on the professor.

He motioned to my hands. “Give it a try.”

I sighed. I was a serious badass in weapons and battle class—growing up around demons meant Shea and I were the scrappiest, dirtiest fighters in the class—I’d also come to love fallen history, but this class? I sucked. It was awful. For a girl who carried powers from not one but four archangels inside of her, I sure as hell didn’t have an ounce of light in me. I tried not to think that it was because there was some darkness inside of me eating up the light.

I went to grab Sera and he shook his head. “With your hands.”

I growled, earning a smile from Fred. He could shoot the freaking Fourth of July from his hands, stunning anyone who got in his way, and momentarily blinding them if he wanted. Me? I could make my hands glow about the same as a two-watt light bulb, before they petered out to nothing.

I stared at my hands, flexing every muscle in my body and pushing.

Fred laughed. “You look constipated.”

I picked up my pencil and chucked it at him, which he caught in midair. Show-off.

Mr. Rincor walked over and sat next to me. “Your tattoos have created a channel for the power that’s already inside of you. You just need to let it flow. Don’t try so hard.”

If looks could kill, mine would cut through Mr. Rincor. Nothing he said made sense. Ever.

“Ohhhhh, I gotcha,” I said sarcastically.

The bell rang then. Thank God.

The Celestial stood, looking down at me. “I hear you’re good with the weapons. That’s all fine until your weapons are taken away, and all you have are your bare hands.” Then he walked away.

Debbie Downer.

I didn’t let his comment bother me. Since I didn’t have work at the clinic that day, Lincoln had asked me to meet him for our private training early. There was something we needed daylight to do, apparently.

I bolted from the classroom and went into the bathroom to apply some lip gloss and brush my teeth—ya know, in the off chance he wanted to kiss me.

I’m hopeless.

After primping and feeling pretty lame for doing said primping, I met Lincoln out on the field. He was standing there, arms crossed, scowl in place. “You’re late.”

I put a hand on my hip. “So I’m not allowed bathroom breaks, then?”

He rolled his eyes and started to circle me like a shark. I was pretty sure he couldn’t stand me, and I was totally falling for him. What a horrible combination. I tried to push all thoughts of a relationship aside.

“The winter ball is coming up,” he said, looking me up and down.

Oh. My. God. He’s in love with me. He’s going to ask me to the dance. Breathe. Breathe. Water down the V.

“Yeah?” I croaked. The winter ball was some charity thing Raphael put on. The students got to be wined and dined by the rich benefactors, and there were silent auctions throughout the night.

He nodded. “I don’t normally work the event, but since it’s off campus, and could lure potential kidnappers, I’ve decided to work security. So just let me know what time you and your date are leaving, and I’ll have a security detail on you at all times.”

Crash. Burn. Blood. Guts. End of world.

“Gotcha,” was about the only intelligible thing I could think of to say at the moment.

“Now, I hear you’re doing amazing in battle class, taking your opponents to the ground, and winning in one-on-one drills.”

I breathed on my nails and buffed them on my shirt. “One might even call me a badass.”

His lips quirked but no smile. “And I’m quite impressed with your swordsmanship and weapons control. You’re an amazing shot with the bow, and if there were fencing tournaments for scrappy girls with no proper form, you would probably win.”

I grinned. “Gosh, you’re really doling out the compliments. What did I do to deserve such stellar treatment?”

That time he did smile, but it was sadistic and full of teeth. “But you. Still. Can’t. Fly.” He drilled the words into me one by one.

I rolled my eyes. “This again? You and Mr. Rincor should party together. You’d have a lot to talk about.”

He crossed his arms, making his biceps flex. “Don’t get me started on your failure at studies of light.”

Failure. Ouch. That word stung.

“Brielle, in seven months, there is an end-of-year test. If you fail that test, you’re cast out from the school. Considering you can’t go back to live with your mom, and demons are trying to kidnap you, that would be a bad idea.”

Gosh. He had to lay on the reality check?

“Okay, I’ll try harder.”

I didn’t want to leave school. Shea and I had it pretty good here. I made enough with my part-time job for all the expensive luxuries in life, like tampons and chocolate, and I got to share a room with my best friend. Bonus, they hadn’t asked for the car back. Not that I was allowed to drive it anywhere but circling the campus, of course.

He placed a hand on each of my shoulders, sending a warm heat to my navel. “It’s time for some tough love.”

Love. He said love.

His wings snapped out then, and his grip on my shoulders tightened. Suddenly, I was being hauled into the air.

“Lincoln!” I shouted as my wings sprang out, my eyes skimming the ground as his hands went from my shoulder to my waist.

We flew higher and higher, me flailing in Lincoln’s arms, him with a determined scowl.

“Brielle, as your lead trainer, I will take it as a personal offense if you fail the gauntlet,” he told me.

I looked down. Big mistake.

Holy shit! We’re like a hundred feet in the air.

“Okay, good, then keep training me!” I shouted at him.

He shook his head. “Me and the boys have gone too soft on you. It’s not working. You need a reality check.”

“You crazy asshole! Don’t you dare drop me!” I seethed.

“You’re kinda cute when you’re really mad,” he confessed.

And then he let go.

He called me cute.

I’m falling.

“Ahhhhh!” My scream echoed, all other thoughts fleeing from my mind. My survival instinct kicked in, and I flapped my black wings like crazy.

Come on, you bastards, hold up my weight! I’d pinched my eyes closed when I started to fall but opened them now, because by my calculations, I should’ve broken my neck and died by that point.

Lincoln was hovering in front of my face, grinning like a lunatic. “You did it.”

“You crazy psycho!” I screamed, reaching out for him, but he flew backward, and took off through the sky.

“Catch me!” he called out.

Oh, I would. I would catch him and pulverize him.

Speeding through the sky after him, I flapped my wings like crazy to catch up. “You could’ve killed me!” I shouted as I got closer.

Turning back to look at me, he smiled. “You’re totally flying.”

My gaze shifted downward. Holy crap, I am. We were almost to the ocean.

“I’m flying!” I shrieked, laughing.

Lincoln grinned, then spun and came at me. I backed my wings up, stopping my advance to hover in midair as he approached me.

“Good. Next practice, we’ll fly with weapons.”

My eyes widened. “Why?”

He looked at me like I was a five-year-old. “Because there are some demons with wings, remember?”

Oh. Yeah. I shivered thinking of my battle with Shea’s master and his bat-like wings.

His hand lifted, gesturing to the horizon. “Outside this city, a war is raging. If you get recruited into the Fallen Army, you’ll have a huge advantage with being able to fight while flying. You could save thousands of lives.”

Whoa. I never thought about that. Fighting while I flew could help save lives. What would it be like to save thousands of lives? I’d never even saved one.

“Is that what you do?” I asked him. I knew nothing about the war beyond the city.

There were open portals out there, where the demons came up from the underworld, and wreaked havoc on the smaller suburbs and towns. We didn’t travel outside the city walls because of it, so it must’ve been bad. The news barely covered it, because reporters said it was too dangerous.

Lincoln’s face darkened. “Yes. But I can’t save them all. It’s a harsh reality that you’ll learn the hard way.”

There was something else there, something else he wanted to say but didn’t.

“All right. Gold star for today, Bri.” He winked, and then started to descend.

Ah, the wink. It did funny things to my insides. If he was that sexy of a winker, I wondered what it was like to kiss him. I flew back to the field where we’d started and noticed Shea, Luke, and Angela waiting for us. Shea was clutching some type of paper, and bouncing on her heels with excitement.

“What’s up? You win the lottery?” I asked my best friend as I landed in front of them.

She laughed. “Close. Noah just invited us to some super-exclusive thing he does every year called ‘the beach games.’ Winner gets a cheesy autographed photo of him, but it’s supposed to be super fun.”

Angela nodded. “I wasn’t invited last year but I hear it’s a blast. Goes all day and night, bonfire and all that jazz.”

Lincoln was scowling. “Noah invited you guys to the beach games?” He said it like it was the Emmys.

Shea thrust the invitation in his face, and put one hand on her hip. “Well gee, I’ve only been reading since I was five, but yeah, I think that’s what it says.”

I grinned. Shea was the best at a verbal bitch slap.

Lincoln chuckled, handing her the flyer. “Good luck. My team’s won four years in a row.” Then he turned and walked away.