The Demon Academy: The Complete Collection

by G. Bailey

  It’s near impossible too. I glance at the fresh glass window that someone fixed when I was out today. The panel Javier used to sneak through is gone…and so are Javier and Sera. I have no doubt that Javier will keep Sera safe, and himself at the same time.

  It doesn’t help me, not when I miss them both. I rub the scratch mark on my arm that looks stranger these days than ever before. I lift my sleeve and look at the three lines on the inside of my arm and how the cut almost looks like lines of shining silver. It’s not like any cut I’ve ever had, and I wish Sera would have told me the truth about why she was so scared of it. Why I caught her staring at my arm, lost deep in thought and in fear that I saw dancing across her eyes.

  What is wolf marked anyhow? I need to ask someone before I go with Lucifer to the pack tomorrow. Luckily, I know just the angel to ask.

  I nearly jump out of my skin when someone knocks the door three times, and I run over, pulling it open to let Morgan in. He wears a thick black cloak, the hood lowered and his wings almost blending into the cloak. In his arms, he has another cloak which he holds up as I shut the door.

  “You need to wear this, just in case someone sees us,” he explains. “And it might be cold.”

  “Alright,” I say, turning around and lifting my hair as he places the cloak on my shoulders before letting it fall. I slide my arms through the gaps as he walks around and does the top three buttons up for me before meeting my eyes. Ever so gently, he reaches up and tucks a strand of my hair away from my cheek and behind my ear, and I close my eyes as his finger rests on my cheek, enjoying the unassuming happiness of his touch. He steps closer, just leaving a breath of space between us as I open my eyes, finding his in an instant.

  “What are you doing to me, Miss Cameron?” he softly asks, sounding nothing like the moody asshole I’ve come to know.

  “The same thing you are doing to me, Mr. Morganach,” I breathlessly reply, feeling like all the air in the world has just left me. He leans closer, very carefully brushing his lips against mine as his hands pull my hood up, and he steps away, leaving me in a desperate state of wanting much more than what he gave me.

  “We need to leave; we only have a certain time allowance to get in and out of the academy,” he tells me, pulling up his own hood and walking to the door. Jogging after him, we head out of the corridor and past the statue before going around it towards a family room that I know leads to the cliff. It reminds me of the time not so long ago that a student tried to kill me, and instead, Morgan killed her.

  It reminds me that Morgan is not all good like I see him as sometimes. It reminds me of what Lucifer said about him killing his best friend and how much I need to know the truth behind it.

  “Morgan,” I whisper, grabbing his arm to stop him in the middle of the room. He looks back, though I can’t see his face under the hood.

  “What is it?” he sternly asks.

  “I need to know something before I go with you,” I tell him, letting his arm go and crossing my arms as I take a deep breath. “Was Lucifer telling the truth about you? Did you kill an angel? Your best friend?”

  “You want to know the truth, why exactly?” he asks, walking towards me, anger dripping from every word. “Will it make you feel better? Will it make you want me more to know the truth? Or is it that you suddenly don’t trust me because of my past? I’ve never once lied to you and pretended to be innocent, Miss Cameron. You know who I am, and I have nothing to prove.”

  “Would it make me trust you more to know your past?” I ask. “The part you are clearly so defensive about.”

  “No. It fucking wouldn’t,” he snaps.

  “Tell me anyway,” I suggest, stepping closer.

  “Why?” he demands.

  “Because I have feelings for you, and I want to know you. I want to understand everything, Morgan,” I reply, being truthful even though putting my feelings out there is risking everything.

  “Those feelings are going to get you killed, Miss Cameron,” he tensely tells me. “You would be better off thinking and feeling like I am no one.”

  “My name is Alexandria Cameron, and I’m not no one to you!” I shout at him, losing my temper, and he loses all control right there with me. We crash into each other, our lips finding each other’s like there was never any space to begin with. He kisses me like I have always been his, and in this moment, I never want to be anyone else’s.

  In this moment, there is only Morgan and me. His lips and tongue explore my mouth as he picks me up and cups my ass before pushing my back into the wall. I feel how hard he is as he pushes himself into me more, deepening the kiss, and a spark of pleasure starts to build from the friction. Before that spark can be anything more, he pulls his lips away, and we both breathlessly stare at each other, the moonlight shining on Morgan’s back so brightly it looks like his wings are lit up with a thousand stars.

  “You are not no one. You could never be that, Alexandria,” he tells me, “no matter how much I wish you were for your own safety. Demons and angels aren’t destined to be together.”

  “I don’t give a fuck about destiny, Morgan. I only know I care about you, and that isn’t going to change,” I say, and he smirks, making me smile back at him. I run my hand down his cheek, and he leans into my touch ever so slightly. “Tell me. I won’t run from you, I won’t see you as less. I know you, Morgan.”

  “No, you don’t and you can’t. What Lucifer said was true. I once killed my best friend, and I’m a fucking monster that belongs here,” he spits out every word, trying to push me away as he lets me go and turns around. I gulp and step closer, touching the feathers of his wings ever so softly.

  “Tell me the rest of the story,” I plead with him.

  “You don’t need the rest of the story to see who I am,” he tells me.

  “I do,” I say quietly. It’s a barrier between us, a wall he isn’t willing to bring down, and we have enough barriers between us as it is. I need to be closer to him, to find out this part of his past.

  “We must go, Miss Cameron.” He snaps his emotions shut as harshly as he speaks to me, and blocks me out so quickly that I can hardly keep up as he walks out onto the cliff after opening the door. I try to swallow my disappointment as I follow him out, only to be shocked into silence at the sight of a horse standing on the cliff. The horse is massive, like as big as a truck my dad had once and crashed in the snow. The more shocking thing is the horse has long black wings that rest at its side. The horse is completely covered in silky black fur that the moonlight reflects off as it is that smooth. It has a long mane, braided dozens of times, and there are five silver bands holding the braids together. Morgan rests his hand on the horse’s head, closing his eyes ever so slightly before opening them and pulling up his hood as he turns to me.

  “Who is this?” I ask.

  “Angels ride not only with their wings, but a gift of the gods. This is my familiar of sorts, Neriffe. Every angel is blessed with a horse of their choosing at the start of their first term at The Angel Academy,” he explains to me as I get to his side. “It also makes it much easier to travel. Neriffe can fly more quickly than I can.”

  “To The Angel Academy? On a flying horse?” I mutter, feeling all kinds of nervous. “Maybe we should just forget about all this and—”

  “Are you scared of horses?” he asks with a dark grin.

  “Not normal, non-flying horses,” I reply.

  “Have you ever ridden a horse?” he asks.

  “No, we have cars. Much safer,” I comment, and he shakes his head at me. “Wait, when did you become an angel? How old are you? Did they have cars when you were human?”

  “I’m twenty-three years old. Including my human life,” he explains to me.

  “Oh good, I got worried I kissed an old man or something for a second there,” I mumble. “Actually what are the jobs of angels, what do they train you to do with your flying horse? I can’t even imagine—”

  “Do you ever stop talking when you’re nervous?
” he interrupts me, clearly amused.

  “Unless you have a car door to knock me out with, nope,” I say, making him grin as well as frown in the same second. It’s rather cute. In a swift motion, Morgan grabs my waist from behind and flies us onto the horse, where I nearly fall off as I try to hold onto Morgan’s arms around me for dear life. He grabs the reins at the same time he wraps an arm around my belly and pushes me down with his chest. I rather like being this close to Morgan but not on a horse.

  “Keep your head down, or it will hurt your neck,” Morgan warns me but with no real explanation to what might hurt me.

  “What do you mean—” I scream the end of the sentence as Neriffe moves quicker than anything and runs right off the cliff with her wings spread wide, the harsh air blasting against my body almost instantly, taking the voice right from my lungs.

  Death by flying horse. That’s a new one to write on someone’s headstone. I just hope it won’t be mine.

  Chapter 35

  The angels have a pretty castle; how is that fair?

  I don’t know how long we are flying at an insane speed before Neriffe suddenly slows, and I gasp in air as I could barely breathe before this point.

  “You can look now,” Morgan, the asshole who didn’t really warn me about this shit, tells me as he straightens up, still keeping an arm around my waist. I open my eyes, blinking a few times at the bright light as Neriffe glides smoothly in the air towards a castle in the clouds. Everything is a blur as I suck in a deep breath and wipe my wet eyes, feeling how cold it is around us. The wind is damn cold up here in the clouds, and the clouds look like silver cotton candy as they surround us. Neriffe smoothly glides in the air, moving slowly and perfectly. Whatever bond Morgan and she have is strong, strong enough that he never once had to guide her as she knew where he wanted to go.

  I’m pretty sure Amethyst would have spun around and dropped me off somewhere random. Morgan has the better familiar for sure. I shake my head a little, moving my hair out of my eyes and tucking it behind my ears as we get closer to the castle.

  Holy all things in the world, it is the prettiest castle I have ever seen. It’s on a massive rock, floating in the middle of dozens of white clouds, and sun shines brightly down onto the castle and small houses around it, and on the beautiful gardens. The castle has what must be dozens of white spiral towers and bridges connecting all of the castle to the main part in the middle. When I look up, wondering how it is day at all in here, I see the sun isn’t a sun at all. It’s a floating orb of intense light, with angels in a line like a barrier all the way around it.

  “Welcome to Neamh, the home of the angels. Never before has a demon set foot here, count yourself lucky,” he tells me, turning Neriffe to the side, and I grip his arm that’s around me tighter just in case. This is really fucking high up. No matter how beautiful The Angel Academy is, I don’t have wings to save me if I fall.

  “Are you breaking another rule, Mr. Morganach?” I ask.

  “I told you once before, I’m a bad teacher,” he replies. I chuckle as I lean back into him, ignoring how being pressed so close to him makes my heart beat faster than how nervous I am being up this high. “Now, hood up, Miss Cameron, there might be angels around even though they should be sleeping.” I pull my hood up and hold it in place as Neriffe swoops down, the wind making me catch my breath. Neriffe flies into the nest of pink orchard trees at the back of the castle, gracefully landing on a clearing in the middle of it. Morgan keeps his arm tight around my waist as he flies us up in the air, off Neriffe, and lands us just in front of her.

  “One second, I’m going to tie Neriffe up,” Morgan tells me, leaving me to go to his horse and take the reins, leading her to a tree before he begins to tie her up. I only hear the flutter of wings before a knife is pressed against my throat, and a large hand grabs my hip, holding me in place.

  “Demons aren’t allowed to walk the path of grace. Who are you?” the man demands, pushing the dagger hard enough against my neck that it is impossible to reply.

  “Let her go before I make you regret it, boy,” Morgan’s cold voice echoes around my ears. The stillness of the trees, the utter silence makes Morgan look like an angry god. And he is on my side, thank goodness. Morgan walks right up to us, wrapping his hand around the man’s hand holding the knife, the one so sharp and close to my throat. For some messed up reason, I feel like Morgan has already saved me, even though he has not.

  “She is a demon and—”

  “Aye, do as your told and let the lass go this very instant,” another voice, a voice much older sounding and familiar to my ears, demands. The knife drops onto the ground near my feet in less than a second, and the hand leaves my hip as I fall into Morgan’s waiting arms. He holds me to his side as I turn around and look at the angel on his knees, bowing to the man who just spoke. They both have white wings, so heavenly they are addictive to look at, and they make you just want to touch them. The boy has red hair, curly and bright, but I can’t see much else from this angle. I move my gaze to the other man who is the Scottish angel I saw with Lucifer in that book’s memories, though he is a lot older now, wrinkles covering his face, and long gray hair that mixes in with the bright white cloak he wears.

  “Master Gabriel, it is good to see you after such a time,” Morgan says, bowing his head low, but Gabriel doesn’t look away from me.

  “Aye, we have much to discuss, it seems,” Gabriel replies, his tone giving away nothing of his emotions. “As for you, Mr. Georgon, you will go from here and not speak a word of the demon you saw. If you do, aye laddie, you will find out what it is to fly with your wings clipped.”

  “Y-y-yes,” the guy sputters before spreading his large white wings out and shooting off into the sky, splashing soil all over my cloak, which I shake.

  “Come, trouble awaits outside,” Gabriel states, turning around and walking off out of the trees. Morgan rests his hand on my lower back, ushering me along as we walk out of the trees and through a pretty garden. There are dozens of flowers of all kinds in pots lining the pathway that is filled with little white stones. Every flower, bush and tree we pass is perfect and very healthy. It’s clear someone spends a lot of time looking after this place.

  We finally come to a trap door on the back of the castle wall, where there is nothing else around. Gabriel rests his hand on the steel door, and it briefly glows white before opening itself, light pouring out from inside. Gabriel walks down the steps, and I follow him into the room, which I suppose must once have been a science lab of sorts. Dozens of strange things are in jars across three shelves around the room, and there are four large desks with strange science equipment on them, tubes going off in every direction.

  “Sit, sit, young demon,” Gabriel suggests, waving a hand at the chair near him. I look to Morgan who nods, and I know I have to trust Morgan on this guy. I’m here; there’s no going back now. I sit in the chair, and Gabriel looks to Morgan, who leans against the desk.

  “You said a demon was angel-blessed, but you failed to mention which demon was, lad,” Gabriel says, eyeing me very curiously. “You are the image of your mother, demon.”

  “I only knew who she was a few days ago. Alexandria didn’t even know,” he explains. “It is news to us all. News that makes this whole situation more dangerous than we could have known.”

  “Did your parents not tell you that you are born to be the Queen of Hell, lass?” Gabriel asks.

  “My parents know?” I question, and Gabriel clicks his tongue, his eyes holding sadness as he pulls a chair over and places it in front of me before sitting down.

  “Let me tell you a story, young Alexandria,” he starts off, clasping his hands together in his lap. “Every week on a Sunday, I would go to a church just outside the city of Edinburgh because this church was where I was born, hundreds if not nearly a thousand years ago. I would help the homeless who went there, and give back to the church who looked after me for many years. My mother passed on soon after my birth, and the nuns o
f Church Augustine brought me up. They were good lasses.”

  “That’s the church me and my family lived in. Is that the one you are talking about?” I ask in surprise. I’ve read some history of the church in the old books there, and I know it has been around for a very long time and that the nuns did indeed look after young infants left to their care.

  “Aye, it is,” he tells me. “See, one day two demons came into the church. The very fact they could step onto holy ground proved to me that they were not as evil as most of their kind. Evil actions mark the soul, you see. Demons are not born evil as the world believes; evil has to be chosen. The woman held a small baby, and she begged for my help, for my knowledge of the mark on her baby’s thigh…an angel blessing on a demon. Something that should never have existed, because it breaks all the rules we have ever known.”

  “Me. My parents asked you about me,” I fill in.

  “You never told me any of this, Gabriel,” Morgan interrupts.

  “Letters are not safe means of transporting information, lad. Aye, I promised to keep Alexandria’s secrets many years ago, and I have never broken a promise,” he firmly replies. “Much as I kept your own, lad. If you will remember?”

  “What does her mark mean? Will she die and become an angel, if that is even possible?” Morgan asks, changing the subject quickly.

  “I’ve spent nearly eighteen years researching and finding a way this could be at all possible, and it wasn’t until this year I found my answer. I’m afraid I owe you an apology, Miss Alexandria,” he says, reaching his hand out and placing it on my shoulder.

  “Why?” I ask, almost not wanting the answer in case it is bad.

  “I came and saw your parents, and it is likely my visit to them that revealed their hiding place,” he tells me. “It was foolish, and I am deeply sorry. Your parents are good demons, with souls made of light. They do not deserve the life they have been forced into.”