Seraphim Academy 1: Wicked Wings

by Elizabeth Briggs

  Seraphim Academy 1: Wicked Wings

  Elizabeth Briggs

  Elizabeth Briggs Books

  Contents

  Free Books!

  1. Olivia

  2. Olivia

  3. Olivia

  4. Callan

  5. Olivia

  6. Olivia

  7. Olivia

  8. Marcus

  9. Olivia

  10. Olivia

  11. Olivia

  12. Bastien

  13. Olivia

  14. Olivia

  15. Olivia

  16. Kassiel

  17. Olivia

  18. Olivia

  19. Olivia

  20. Bastien

  21. Olivia

  22. Olivia

  23. Olivia

  24. Kassiel

  25. Olivia

  26. Olivia

  27. Olivia

  28. Callan

  29. Olivia

  30. Olivia

  31. Olivia

  32. Marcus

  33. Olivia

  34. Olivia

  35. Olivia

  36. Bastien

  37. Olivia

  38. Olivia

  39. Olivia

  40. Kassiel

  41. Olivia

  42. Olivia

  43. Olivia

  44. Callan

  45. Olivia

  46. Olivia

  47. Olivia

  48. Marcus

  49. Olivia

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  Stroke The Flame - Excerpt

  About the Author

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  Chapter One

  Olivia

  Seduction is a dangerous game, but one I have no choice but to play. And, as I’ve learned from my mother, seduction and deception often go hand in hand.

  They do tonight, anyway.

  I move through the party and try to ignore the growing hunger inside me. It’s hard at times like this, when music is pulsing, drinks are flowing, and bodies are dancing a little too close. Inhibitions are down, temptation is in the air, and boy does it smell sweet. To me, at least.

  I find a corner where I can survey the crowd, trying not to get too close to anyone. College kids at various levels of drunkenness dance, play beer pong, and try to talk over the loud beat of the music. A guy standing off to the side catches my eye and gives me a warm smile. He’s got the face and shoulders of a small-town college football hero, and for a second I’m tempted. I picture digging my nails into those broad shoulders as I ride him hard, but I quickly glance away. He looks like a nice guy. The kind who brings you flowers on your first date and wants to take it slow. The kind I avoid.

  Trust me, I’m doing him a favor.

  A guy with sleeve tats and a dark goatee walks into the room with a “don’t-fuck-with-me” vibe. I bet these rich snobs invite him to parties for one reason alone: he sells drugs. He’s exactly the kind of man I need tonight.

  Chester’s hand clasps my elbow possessively. “There you are.”

  “I was waiting for you.” I flash him a fake smile. He’s one of those kids who only got into USC because his parents bribed someone. Sandy blond hair with a perfect curl over his eye, dark green polo shirt, expensive smile—you know the type. His confidence makes him more attractive than he really is, as does his money. This is his house—bought by his parents so he wouldn’t have to live in a dorm with the common folk—and his party. It’s St Patrick’s Day, he’s wearing an “I’m Not Irish, Kiss Me Anyway” pin that lights up, and his breath smells like whiskey. It takes a good bit of acting not to cringe away from his touch, but Mother taught me well.

  We met in the bar where I work, where he flirted with every girl he could before I took him home. Now he only has eyes for me. What can I say? I have that effect on people.

  Chester pulls me up against him. “I missed you. Let’s go back to my bedroom.”

  I play with the buttons on his shirt. “Only if I get a drink first. I’m dying for one of those green beers everyone’s got.”

  He nuzzles the side of my neck like a ravenous bear. “Can’t it wait? I need you now.”

  I might have gone a little too far with him last night. I swat his chest playfully and put on a cute pout. “Everyone’s had a drink but me. Please?”

  He has no idea I’m doing him a favor. If we sleep together again, he won’t survive it. Humans can only handle one night with a succubus—or even a half succubus, like me.

  “Fine,” he says, but he tightens his fingers around my arm. “One drink and then you’re mine for the rest of the night.”

  His mouth crushes against mine, and I can’t help but take a little of what he’s offering. His lust for me is delicious, but every second our lips touch puts him in more danger. The guy is a possessive, snobbish jerk, but I don’t want him dead.

  I push him away before I can do any real damage. “Go find me that green beer, and then we’ll continue this.”

  His eyes are glazed and unfocused, his face a little paler than it was before, and at first I think he won’t let go. Did I take too much? But after a second the daze passes, and he stumbles off to go get me a drink.

  I blow out a long breath and search the room for that tattooed guy I spotted earlier. He’s easy to find, with a group of entitled students passing him money in the corner in exchange for something in a little baggie. I use a tiny bit of my powers to catch his attention, and his gaze locks on me. Others in the room turn too—both men and women—and I know I can have any one of them if I want. Desire is powerful, and succubi are hard for humans to resist when we put on the charm. The only people immune are those in true love, and they’re few and far between, especially in places like this.

  He pushes through the crowd and makes his way over to me. “You alone, baby?”

  “Not anymore.” I rest my hand on his arm and tug a little with my magic, making his emotions flare.

  He suddenly grabs me around the waist and plants his lips on mine, kissing me hard. Oops, I tugged a little too hard. Mother would chide me, but I’m still getting used to these powers and the thirst that comes with them. I hear it now, the little voice in my head that tells me to yank open his jeans and climb him like a tree. That voice is getting harder to ignore with every passing day.

  I end the kiss slowly. “I could use some fresh air. Let’s go onto the balcony so we can continue this.”

  He grunts and leads me outside, his hand on my ass. Subtle, he is not. I lean against the balcony and he leans against me. From below, the sound of people laughing and splashing in the pool filters up. It’s a perfectly clear blue Los Angeles day and the sun hits my bare shoulders, filling me with warmth. I’m wearing a little red dress that shows off all my curves, and my new friend is definitely enjoying the view.

  His hands circle my waist. “I’m Trey. What’s your name?”

  “Olivia.” I toss my hair back. “But everyone calls me Liv.”

  Chester comes barreling outside at that moment and yanks the guy off me. “What the fuck, man? You think you can come into my house and touch my girl?”

  “We were just talking,” I say.

  “Looked like a lot more than that,” Chester snaps. He shoves a green beer at my chest, and a little of it foams over. “Here, take your damn drink while I kick this guy’s ass.”

  I grab the beer from Chester. As I do, I brush against his hand and unleash a little more of my power, heightening his emotions.

  “I’d like to see you try,” Trey scoffs as I take a sip of the green beer. It’s disgusting,
but I gulp a bit down anyway.

  Chester gets right up in Trey’s business and he’s so angry now his face is bright red. “Stay away from my girl.”

  Trey takes a step closer and actually lets out a growl. “What are you going to do if I don’t?”

  Chester throws the first punch at Trey’s face, unable to contain himself between his overwhelming lust and anger. Fighting breaks out between them, and I rush in a little late to try to break it up. As I do, I’m shoved backward, hard. My beer falls to the ground with a loud crack and my back hits the side of the balcony—and then I’m over it.

  Falling.

  Falling.

  Falling.

  Wings unfurl from my back with a loud snap, breaking up my screams. For a second I hover over the pool, black feathers flashing through the air, while everyone down below and on the balcony stares at me. Then I plummet toward the water again. The second I hit it, everything goes black.

  Exactly as I planned.

  Chapter Two

  Olivia

  I wake in a hospital room with no idea how I got there and jerk upright when I realize I’m not alone. It’s an honest reaction. No one likes to wake up and find a stranger has been watching them sleep, even if I expected a scene like this.

  “Who are you?” I ask as I sit up straighter. “What’s going on? Where am I?”

  “You can call me Jo.” The woman appears to be in her mid-30s with pale skin, shoulder-length honey blond hair, a sensible white blouse, and a black pencil skirt. Everything about her is professional, from her shiny nails to her closed-toe pumps to her black briefcase, but there’s something about her that makes her stand apart from an average businesswoman. The symmetrical perfection of her face. The lustrous shine of her hair. The way the sunlight streaming through the window seems to gather around her. “Do you remember how you got here?”

  “Not really.” I place my hand on my forehead, trying to ease the ache there. I’m wearing a hospital gown, there’s an IV in my arm, and my head is pounding. I stare at the IV and my jaw falls open. “Why am I in a hospital? What happened to me?”

  “That’s what I’d like to find out.” She crosses her legs, her skirt swishing as she moves. “I’m here to ask you a few questions about what happened at the party tonight. Don’t even bother trying to lie to me—it won’t work. As long as you speak the truth, we’ll both get along just fine.”

  I reach up to touch the necklace around my neck, relieved it’s still there even though my clothes are missing. It’s gold and heavy, with ornate curls and a big aquamarine gem that changes color depending on the light. As soon as I realize what I’m doing, I drop my hand, but she’s already seen it. I swallow and begin talking. “I was at a party and a fight broke out. We were on the balcony and I got knocked over, I think. I fell?” My eyes widen. “There were…wings. Feathers?” I shake my head. “No, that can’t be real. Was my drink spiked or something?”

  “Your drink wasn’t spiked, and I can assure you that what you remember was real.”

  Fun fact: my drink was spiked. How do I know? Because I spiked it myself when Chester handed it to me. I needed to pass out, and I knew the drug would be out of my system by the time anyone tested me thanks to my angel-demon metabolism. But Jo doesn’t need to know that.

  “No, it’s not possible,” I say, getting increasingly upset for her benefit. “I fell from the balcony, but I’m not injured. And the wings. Oh shit, the wings…” I press my palms against my eyes. “I must be dreaming. Either that or I’ve totally lost my mind.”

  Her perfect ankles cross as she leans forward. “You’re not dreaming, and I believe your mind is perfectly intact, though you may be in shock.”

  “Who are you?” I sit up a little straighter in bed so that I’m fully upright. “What are you doing here?”

  “You were brought to the hospital after you passed out. I was sent to find you after a video was uploaded to YouTube of a girl falling off the balcony and suddenly sprouting wings.” She scowls a little. “This video was seen by no less than three thousand people online, not to mention all the people who witnessed it happen in person. We were able to get the video taken down without much trouble, but the partygoers are more of a problem. My team is still trying to track down everyone who was there so I can wipe their memories. You’ve caused quite a bit of work for us all.”

  Wipe their memories? Shit, this isn’t just any angel, this is Archangel Jophiel, the only one with that power. I’m going to have to be extra careful with what I say to her.

  “Not that it’s your fault of course,” she continues, “and we’ve certainly dealt with worse incidents before, though not many. Most people grow up knowing what they are.” She pauses to study me. “Do you really not know? Remember, it’s impossible to lie to me.”

  I stare back at her and reply without hesitation. “What do you mean? Know what?”

  She considers me for a moment and buys my lies. “Olivia, you’re an angel.”

  “A what?” I blink at her. “Like in the Bible?”

  “Not exactly.” She waves a hand. “They got some things right, and other religions are correct about different things. But you get the basic idea, anyway.”

  I let out a slightly insane laugh. “This is a joke, right? Angels don’t exist. And if they did, I’m definitely not one of them.”

  She sighs. “Who are your parents? Are they…different?”

  “Different how? My mom died when I was a kid, and no one knows who my father is.” The lies roll smoothly off my tongue, and Jophiel never even reacts. I nearly touch my necklace again, but this time I restrain myself. Thank you, Mother. “I grew up in foster care.”

  Jophiel gives a terse nod. “As I thought. Your father must be one of us, but it’s unlikely he will come forward. It’s forbidden for our kind to breed with humans.”

  “Our kind?” I ask.

  A rush of air sweeps through the hospital room as her copper-colored wings suddenly flare out from her shoulders. I let out a small scream and recoil against the bed, giving it my all as the wings spread wide, taking up the entire wall. There’s no denying what she is now. With her wings out she glows with an inner light, and everything about her is a little too perfect. You might even call it divine.

  “Angel,” I whisper while clutching at the bedsheets as if they’ll protect me. “It’s true.”

  “Indeed.” Her wings disappear back into her shoulders as if they never existed. “Now, let’s talk about your future.”

  I blink at her with big eyes like I’ve just seen a ghost. I’m really playing up the naïve half-human part, and Jophiel seems to be drinking it all in. “My future?”

  “Now that you’ve Emerged, your other powers will be manifesting soon.”

  My jaw falls open. “Other powers?”

  “Of course.” A touch of pity crosses her face. “We all get our wings and angelic gifts at twenty-one years of age, but most grow up among other angels and are well prepared for their Emergence. Since you had no idea what you are, it’s no wonder you were a bit shocked.”

  “That’s an understatement,” I mutter as I drag a hand over my face, trying to pull myself together. “Sorry, this is a lot to take in.”

  “I’m sure it is, but now that we’ve found you, we’ll take care of everything. Starting with your education. Every angel is sent to Seraphim Academy for Angelic Studies at around twenty-one or so, usually after they finish their human university studies. I’ve already informed the headmaster you’ll be attending.”

  I hold up a hand. “Wait. I’m confused. I’m going to a school…for angels?”

  “Yes. It’s imperative that you attend Seraphim Academy and learn to control your powers and how to hide what you are from humans. It’s a three-year program, and once you’re done, we can help you find a suitable career for your skills.”

  “Three years,” I say slowly. “That’s a long time.”

  “It will fly by, I promise. No pun intended.” She smooths her skirt as
she stands. “It’s fortunate for you that Seraphim Academy’s next term starts in a few days, although that gives you less than a week before you need to arrive there. We will handle all travel accommodations and email you everything you need to know about the school.”

  Time to play reluctant. “Wait. A week? I need some time to think over this first, and—”

  Jo shakes her head. “I’m afraid that isn’t an option. If you don’t learn to control your powers you will be a danger to yourself and others. Attendance is mandatory for all angels.”

  “But what about my plans for the future? And how will I afford this? I’m not exactly making a ton of money at the bar I work at.”

  She waves a dismissive hand. “Your plans for the future are irrelevant now that you know what you are, and you don’t need to worry about the financial details. My company, Aerie Industries, covers tuition for all students, along with a small allowance for supplies.” She offers me a clipped smile. “As you’ll see, angels take care of our own. Even the ones who are half human.”

  I stare out the window with a frown. “I guess I don’t have a choice, do I?”

  “That’s correct.” She moves to the door, but then turns back. “One last thing. Where did you get that necklace?”