by Riley London
Fuck.
I tried to put on a brave face as I took a step closer to the prince. “Mammon.”
“Celeste Venoix?” Mammon cracked a smile. “You were the one who summoned me? How strange.”
“Why strange?”
“Because I did not realize that you had a death wish.” Mammon’s smile grew wider. “Without your Charlie around, you understand that I have no incentive not to take your life? Not to strike you down where you stand?”
“Go for it.”
“What?”
“I said go for it. If that’s what you want to do, try to kill me, then be my fucking guest.”
“Try?” Mammon chuckled, shifting closer to my frame. “There will be no try, Celeste Venoix.”
He reached out towards me, his hand aimed right for my neck. But I was able to avoid the move by ducking down towards the grass. Once I felt like I had enough balance, I used my leg to sweep his out from under him, and I watched as he came tumbling towards the ground.
“Clever move,” Mammon replied as he hastily got back on his feet. “But I’ve got one better.”
Before I even had time to think, I felt something stabbing into my sides, both of them at the same time. I looked down to see what looked like small daggers, digging deeper and deeper into my skin.
“Sana eam,” I prayed, before rolling over a few times, enough to get a few feet away from Mammon. But by the time I’d gotten back up from the ground, he was on me again, his hands strangling my throat, his eyes boring into my own.
I felt him crush my windpipe in his grip, as if it was made of nothing but paper and glass. The pain radiating throughout my body was excruciating, but I managed to bypass it, reaching for Michael’s sword in my sheath.
When Mammon squeezed his hand again, the taste of my own blood filled my mouth. I rammed the sword right into his abdomen, not stopping until the weapon was all the way through his body. Confused, he looked down for a moment. But when his eyes met mine again, there was something beautiful behind them.
Fear.
Genuine fear.
“…How?” Mammon dropped me to the ground, his hand meeting his stomach instead. “How? How? How?”
I gasped for air as out of the corner of my eye I saw Mammon’s skin starting to glow gold from the inside out. He screamed in pain, before suddenly dropping to his knees. “Nequeat fieri. You are not Michael. This cannot be done. How could you ever wield his sword?”
I touched a hand to my windpipe, letting the angelic energy from God’s gift inside of me flow through my fingers. After a moment had passed, my bones had been restored, and my throat had been completely healed. I used my words wisely as I stared back at Mammon.
“Quis ut Deus.” I remembered the phrase from Michael’s sword.
“No one…no one…” Mammon cried. “There is no one like God. Haven’t I already learned it enough?”
“Bind him,” I murmured towards the weapon, unsure of its full abilities. But visions of Michael putting the amber chains on each of the Princes of Hell, forbidding them to harm anyone on the surface, came to me as I watched Mammon weep. “Can you bind him?”
As soon as I’d said it, I saw that same, golden light, emanate from the sword and wrap itself around Mammon’s wrists. He cried out again as the light seemed to get tighter around his skin, placing him in what appeared to be an impenetrable bondage.
The chains were made out of angelic energy, out of God himself.
Confident that he wouldn’t be able to harm me anymore, I walked right up to Mammon, before looking down at his face. “Where’s Charlie?”
“He’s safe. Far, far away from you,” Mammon snapped. “And he’ll be with us until the end of time.”
“Tell me where he is and I’ll go easy on you,” I promised. “Well, not easy, but I won’t make this next part as painful as it has to be.”
“Consider him your sacrifice.” Mammon grinned. “Didn’t you know that Michael had to make one, too? If you are to be his protégé, I imagine that operating from a place of pain is necessary for the field. A soldier with a broken heart. An angel who had to give his life, even if it meant giving up the one he loved—”
“I don’t have time for your monologue,” I interrupted Mammon’s words. “Just tell me where Charlie is, and let’s get the fuck on with it.”
“No. This conversation is over, Daughter of Lilith and Lucifer,” Mammon continued. “I will tell the others about you and about that accursed sword! You will not win this time! The angels will not win!”
“Angels always win. Asshole,” I replied, pulling Michael’s sword out of his body. I used it to swiftly cut off Mammon’s head as his frame fell back against the ground, eventually sinking back into the grass.
I knew that Mammon wasn’t dead, per se, just back in Hell.
But shit. That was good enough for now.
“Holy shit, Celeste!” Zachary was soon at my side. “You did it! You really did it!”
“You were able to bind one of the Princes of Hell.” Benjamin seemed slightly amused. “You really did it.”
“Yeah. It looks like I’m The Chosen One, after all.” I let out a heavy sigh. “But I still have no idea where Charlie is.”
“We’ll find him. Well, you’ll find him and we’ll just back you up.” Zachary smiled.
“Whatever you need, Celeste, we’re behind you all the way.” Benjamin nodded.
“Thanks.” I brought a hand up towards my throat again, a small semblance of pain still throbbed through the muscles. “Can we go to bed now? I’m totally exhausted after using the sword and all my energy too.”
“Sure thing, baby.” Zachary grinned, taking me by the hand and leading me back towards the academy’s library.
Chapter 9
“What did you get for question number ten?” Micah whispered over to me as we both sat side by side in Mr. Toorin’s language class. “I’m pretty sure I got it wrong, but I just wanted to be sure.”
“Wait, are you asking me because you think I got it wrong too?”
“No. Yes,” Micah admitted with a smile. “So, what’d you get for question number ten?”
I scoffed, but still glanced down at my quiz sheet. And when I realized what was on the page, my eyes widened in surprise.
Quis ut Deus.
Mr. Toorin had asked us what the phrase translated to, which was something I hadn’t known last week, but now I knew all too well.
“Are you asking Ms. Venoix about question number ten, Micah Woods?” Mr. Toorin came to stand in front of both of our desks. “What was it you’d like to know?”
“Oh. I just wanted to see if she got the right translation.” Micah shrugged. “No big deal.”
“Hmm. Well, typically I would dock you a few points for having this discussion in the middle of my class, but today, I think I’ll take the opportunity to expand your minds.” Mr. Toorin chuckled, before he raised his head up towards the rest of the class. “Quis ut Deus. What does it mean?”
“Who is like God?” I suggested.
“That’s what it means, literally.” Mr. Toorin continued. “But what does it mean? Of course, we all know that the phrase is heavily associated with Michael, the founder of the Angel Academy, but we also know that he was a rather humble man. Do we believe that he was saying that he was like God?”
“No. That wouldn’t make any sense,” Micah continued. “There’s no way that any angel could believe that they were equal to God.”
“Ah, but there was an angel who believed such a thing,” Mr. Toorin explained. “We so often forget that Lucifer was an angel too.”
Lucifer.
Dad.
I tried to keep a straight face as Mr. Toorin continued to discuss my father with the rest of the class. “Lucifer’s hubris was known throughout the heavens. He saw himself as God’s equal, which is why he felt he could lead a rebellion against him. It was said that Michael adopted the phrase quis ut deus as a response to Lucifer’s ambitions.”
&n
bsp; Mr. Toorin paused, before turning to write the Latin phrase on the board behind him. “Quis ut deus. Who is like God? Who is like God?”
“…No one,” I said as I remembered Mammon’s tearful words against the grass. “There is no one like God.”
“That’s correct, Ms. Venoix.” Mr. Toorin nodded. “There is no one like God, a fact that Michael wanted Lucifer to remember at every turn. It was a rhetorical question for Lucifer, and a battle cry for Michael himself.”
“Ugh. It’s so crazy that Lucifer ever thought that he could take on God anyway.” Micah shook his head. “Where did he even get off?”
“I think you’d know something about having a bit of an inflated ego too, Micah Woods.” Mr. Toorin grinned and the rest of the class laughed in response.
“What if it wasn’t ego?” I quietly suggested. “What if Lucifer was just misguided? And thought that he was doing what was right?”
“Good intentions only count for so much, Ms. Venoix.” Mr. Toorin sighed. “And the road to Hell is paved with them.”
Mr. Toorin reached for his textbook and flipped through its pages. “Now, let’s continue with our lesson for the day. I’ll assign you biblical passages in Latin, and you’ll each have the weekend to translate them and bring them back to me by Monday morning.”
The road to Hell.
I thought about what I’d done to Charlie, by bringing him back to life in the first place. I thought about the way there was so much power coursing through my veins, coursing through Michael’s sword, enough to take on all the Princes of Hell, binding each and every one.
But I’d never stopped to think about what was going to happen to my own soul. When all of this was said and done, was I going to be rewarded for my efforts in Heaven? Or was I going to be damned to Hell, beside my mother and father? Would I ever see Benjamin and Zachary again?
And when was it going to be my turn to make the ultimate sacrifice? The one that saved the world? The one that Michael had to make too?
“Celeste. You’ll be doing a passage from The Book of Job,” Mr. Toorin announced.
The Book of Job.
Right. Of course.
“I haven’t seen you in a while.” Mrs. Deveraux smiled over at me, from behind her over-sized desk. “How have you been, Celeste?”
“Fine,” I lied with a shrug. “How have things been for you?”
“An awful mess.” Mrs. Deveraux sighed, before she leaned back in her office chair. “I called you into my office to talk to you about the Council’s investigation.”
“Oh. They’re still doing that?” I tried to act like it didn’t bother me at all, even though I felt a rage building underneath my bones. “No one’s talked to me about it for a while, so I thought they’d reached a conclusion by now.”
“No. Gabrielle is still curious about you. So curious in fact, that she’s assigned eyes to you, all around the globe.” Mrs. Deveraux paused before continuing. “Celeste, when we first met, you told me that you did not speak French.”
“I don’t,” I replied. “It might be kind of cool to learn, but I don’t really have the time for that.”
“Then, why were you at a night market in France? Seemingly conversing with other patrons in French?” Mrs. Deveraux’s face had a stoic expression. “Or was this a case of mistaken identity?”
Shit.
I’d never expected for the Council to have eyes on me in France too. A part of me wanted to make something up, something believable that sounded good enough to pass as the truth, but another part of me realized that Mrs. Deveraux probably had more information on me than she was sharing right now, which meant that if I started off with a lie she wouldn’t trust me anymore.
“No. That was me.” I nodded. “But I wasn’t talking to anyone in French. I was just using a few basic questions that I’d picked up before the trip.”
“And why in the world did you take a trip to France in the middle of the semester?” Mrs. Deveraux asked. “What could’ve been waiting for you halfway around the world?”
“I didn’t think that I had to stay on campus,” I replied. “Or am I not allowed to travel anymore? Because of the investigation?”
“Celeste. Please. Answer the question.”
“You’re asking me why I took a trip to France? As if it’s not one of the most beautiful countries in the world?” I faked a smile. “I went to France, because I wanted to go to France. What’s so wrong with that?”
“Please. Just tell me the truth.” Mrs. Deveraux shook her head. “We cannot afford to play this game, Celeste. You have to be honest with me, or else this will never work.”
“What won’t work?”
“Can’t you see that I’m trying to save your life?” Mrs. Deveraux said. “Can’t you see that I’m just trying to protect you? But I need to know what you’ve been up to, I need to know before the Council finds out for themselves.”
“Maybe I don’t need you to protect me because I’m not doing anything wrong.”
“It’s not about right or wrong. It’s about what the Council thinks they can prove,” Mrs. Deveraux responded. “And if they think they can prove that you’ve been colluding with demonic energy—”
“I haven’t.”
“Celeste—”
“Mrs. Deveraux, I haven’t!” I raised my voice a little, growing frustrated at her line of questioning. “And the more you accuse me of something like that, the more I feel like—”
“…Your eyes.” Mrs. Deveraux’s eyes were terrified. “Oh my God. Celeste. Your eyes.”
“What about them?” I brought a hand up to my face, my fingers pressing onto the cheek underneath my eye. “What’s wrong with them?”
“Pitch black.” Mrs. Deveraux’s voice caught in her throat. “Your eyes…are pitch black.”
Double shit.
I must’ve looked just like a goddamn demon, and there wasn’t anything that I could do about it either.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m just…” My words trailed off as I closed my eyes. “Just give me a second.”
I tried to push away all the frustration, all the darkness that felt like it was seeping out of my heart, and instead I turned my attention to the positives, the way Zachary and Benjamin made me feel, how happy I was to still have them in my life.
And then, I opened my eyes again, looking back at Mrs. Deveraux as I took on a much calmer demeanor. “I’m sorry about that, Mrs. Deveraux. Sometimes, I—”
“And now, your eyes are gold.” Mrs. Deveraux gasped as her hand flew up towards her mouth. “Oh. Cor meum. Michael. Why do your eyes glow like Michael’s? What kind of sorcery is this?”
“It’s not sorcery at all,” I tearfully admitted. “I’m so sorry. If I’d known what I was, I don’t know if I ever would’ve enrolled at the academy. I would’ve just kept all of this to myself. I wouldn’t have been such a burden to you or anyone.”
“Celeste Venoix…who are you?” Mrs. Deveraux leaned across her desk. “Tell me the truth.”
“I…am the daughter of Lilith and Lucifer,” I continued. “I am half-angel, and half-demon too.”
“They were never supposed to have a child,” Mrs. Deveraux hummed. “And yet, here you are.”
“Here I am.” I lightly chuckled, even though I felt like I was dying on the inside. “I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t know when I first came to the academy. I didn’t even know I was an angel either.”
“But why do your eyes glow like Michael’s?” Mrs. Deveraux changed the topic of conversation. “Why on Earth would you possess such an ability?”
“Because I have his sword.”
“…What?”
“I have Michael’s sword.” I sniffled, feeling smaller and smaller still. “My father held onto it after their battle, the one with all the Princes of Hell. And that’s why I went to France. I had to find a witch with angel blood, someone who could bring the sword back to life, allowing it to hear prayers again.”
“A witch with angel blood?” Mrs. Dev
eraux asked. “But that would mean that there is another like you? Another child with half-angel, half-demon blood running through their veins?”
“My sister.” I nodded. “Trinity.”
“Trinity…our exchange student last year from France…” Mrs. Deveraux’s tone seemed like she was finally putting all the pieces together. “She came here for you, didn’t she?”
“Yes. She came to recruit me for her cause.”
“Her cause?”
“She’s a lot more like our father than I am,” I replied. “She had this idea of ruling Hell together, side by side, as the princes took over the surface and Heaven, too.”
“And you denied her partnership? Your own sister?”
“I don’t care about any of that. All I ever cared about was keeping the people I love safe from harm,” I answered. “But I couldn’t even manage to do that, because the Princes of Hell took Charlie away from me. They’re trying to use him, I think, as some kind of perfect soldier, a go-between for Hell and the surface.”
“Ah, so that’s where he’s been all this time,” Mrs. Deveraux nodded as she spoke. “I’d assumed that he’d tried to return to his life before the academy. Although, if he hadn’t returned to us by the spring, I was going to send out a search party for the boy.”
“I just want to find him. I just want to make sure he’s safe.” I kept going, even as tears fell from my eyes. “I’ve never felt so weak in my entire life, Mrs. Deveraux. Even with Michael’s sword, even with the power of angels on my side, I just feel so…helpless. What’s it all worth if I can’t make sure Charlie is okay? What if it’s already too late?”
“Listen to me, Celeste Venoix.” Mrs. Deveraux stood up from her desk, before she came around to where I was sitting. “If you are able to wield Michael’s sword, then you are the only one standing in the way when it comes to whether the world is going to end or not.”
“I know,” I replied. “I know I’m supposed to be important—”
“Supposed to be? You are,” Mrs. Deveraux clarified, pressing her thumbs underneath my eyes, wiping away my tears. “And I know you didn’t ask for this. I know you didn’t ask to have both Heaven and Hell in your veins, but there’s a reason you were born and there’s a reason you continue to exist. Even if Charlie is dead—”