Fallen Academy: Year Three And A Half (Fallen Academy Book 4)

by Leia Stone

  “Ha ha, now get over here. I need a second player to whoop this guy’s ass.”

  I grinned. Catia had quickly become a cherished friend. I went to work, saw a bunch of horrible and heart-wrenching shit, and then came home to a chick who had no qualms about playing video games all night, and eating takeout pizza. She was low maintenance and down to just chill.

  Dropping my bag I locked the front door, before sitting next to her, and picking up the second controller. She’d got the gaming system at the second-hand store with her tips from cocktail waitressing—a job she hated. I used what little money I’d brought over to stock our apartment with essentials like food, and James had loaned us a couple hundred to put down on a place until my first “sale.” This city was more expensive than I realized, but, all in all, we were doing pretty well.

  “How was work?” Catia asked as she smashed her avatar into the street fighter on the screen.

  I hated when she asked that question. I didn’t want to answer honestly. I didn’t want to tell her about the young teenagers in cages and the crying, having to walk by and ignore the outstretched fingers. It sickened me to my core.

  “Well, you’re going to see for yourself, because I got you a job cleaning cages. It’s off the books, cash. Only three days a week but—”

  Catia dropped the remote and tackle-hugged me, knocking me backward on the ground. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

  I laughed genuinely, hugging her back tightly before letting her go. “Sick of playing house?”

  She crawled off of me and ran her fingers through her short-cropped hair. “You have no idea. I’m dying to help out the cause. I can’t serve one more drink to an overweight pervert. Not. One. More.”

  I nodded. “Well, you start tomorrow, which also happens to be the day of my first sale. The one they’re going to track.”

  There. I said it. The one thing I didn’t want to really talk about, but also needed to talk about.

  I let the silence linger in the air as the heavy feeling in my chest grew. I’d met my first fifteen-year-old slave today. She’d been ferried in from the warzones, and James had helped me win the bid on her.

  The way it worked was those bastards out in the warzones, and other places, stole women and children in the middle of the night, and transported them to San Francisco, where the brokers bid on them. The highest bid got the slave. Then, as a broker, I took pictures of them, and listed them for “sale” on the dark web. Once a buyer was found, I charged twenty times what I paid. Fifty percent of the profit went to Marx, and I kept the other fifty. I didn’t know how undercover cops did this shit day in and day out. I wouldn’t last more than a few months.

  The only thing keeping me here, was knowing that I was going to free some. Knowing that I could save some lives.

  Catia fiddled with her fingers. “Is it a girl or boy?”

  I swallowed hard, trying not to think about having to sell the girl tomorrow. A real sale.

  “Girl,” I mumbled.

  “How old?” Her voice caught.

  “Fifteen.”

  A whimper escaped her throat and I let go of the controller.

  “We have to. This is how they will grow to trust me. From here on out, every kid I sell is really being ferried back to Angel City, to Michael. To safety.”

  Catia was trying to control her breathing. I could see the desperation in her wide eyes. “But this one girl, she has a family. Is her life not important? Like my sister…”

  Fuck.

  My chest pinched the way it did after Brielle had been lost, and grief overcame me once again. “What would you have me do? Fly this one girl to safety, blow my cover, and the rest of the women and children after her won’t be saved?”

  I had to be realistic about this. If I could get them to trust me, it could change the game. I could save dozens of lives.

  Catia bit her lip, chewing on it nervously. “No. No, that won’t do. We’re going to beat the record, right? Most kids saved.”

  “Yeah.” I assured, offering her a faint smile.

  We were silent for a moment as the reality pressed in on us. To save many, we’d have to sacrifice one.

  I wasn’t sure I could do it. Only tomorrow would tell, when the time came, if I were capable. I was the broker. I’d have to ship her out like a package, and never see her again.

  “I’m tired. I’m gonna hit the sack early.” I stood abruptly, and stormed back to our shared bedroom. We kept up appearances in case people snooped around, but Catia spent most nights on the couch, which she said was more comfortable than sleeping next to me. I had nightmares most nights, and mumbled in my sleep.

  Brielle, my nightmares were always about Brielle. They were always about letting her be taken. If she was alive, if she was stuck in Hell, what was she doing this very moment? I had no idea. I kicked off my jeans and slipped under the covers, uncaring that my stomach was growling for dinner. I didn’t deserve food. I was a monster who was about to sell a fifteen-year-old to a lifetime of slavery. If Brielle were here, she wouldn’t let it happen. She’d do something insanely stupid and dangerous, yet brilliant, and save them all.

  That was the last thought I had before sleep took me.

  She was always the last thing I thought about, and my first thought when I awoke. Even after this long.

  “Wake up!” Catia kicked me lightly in the ribs.

  I moaned, rolling over to see my fake girlfriend wearing tattered clothes. Her face was covered in some kind of engine grease. She’d ratted up her hair raggedly so that she well and truly looked like she was homeless or a drug addict.

  “What the hell, Cat?” I sat up, rubbed my eyes, and looked at her again.

  She started pacing the bedroom. “I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking of my late sister. A life is a life and I can’t let one go on our watch.”

  She was spiraling.

  I stood and crossed the room to her. “We talked about this. I can help more people if—”

  “Exactly! You. It’s always going to be you helping, because brokers are all men. I can’t do shit when I’m cleaning cages. You don’t need me.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  She stopped pacing. “I mean, you’re going to go into work and say you came home last night and that my shit was gone. I split because I caught you cheating. Then you’re going to tell me the location of the drop-off. Wherever you go to ship the girl, I’m going to sneak in and travel with her. When we arrive together, I’ll give it a few days so that the contact can vouch the deal went okay. Then I’ll kill him, take the girl, and get her back to Angel City.”

  My eyes widened. She’d clearly been up all night thinking about this. “Cat, the buyer is in Paris. You can’t just nonchalantly pose as a homeless woman, go to Paris, and get her back to Angel City without help.”

  Her face fell quickly at my revelation before lighting up again. “Paris! There’s a Fallen Academy sister school there, right?”

  It was super top-secret info that only someone of her station in the Army would know. Fallen Academy had four sister schools across the world. Five places total where kids could go to get the training they needed to deal with their gifts. Los Angeles was by far the biggest, run by Raphael. New York, Paris, Toronto, and Zurich were much smaller schools that operated in hiding because they were pockets on the edge of warzones. Gabriel and Uriel split their time between the four schools, helping do awakening ceremonies and teaching the kids to control their powers.

  In the event there was a Celestial found at a sister site, they were transported to Los Angeles Fallen Academy for their tattoos and schooling. But that had only happened one time in the history of the Fallen War. We were too rare a breed.

  Could Catia get the girl out and sneak her away to the Paris Fallen Academy where they would be safe under the protection of the teachers there? The wheels started turning in my mind. It was actually a decent plan, one that would see them both live.

  “My buyer is an Abrus demo
n. Powerful.”

  It was my turn to pace now. Catia was my only friend in the world right now; the last thing I wanted was to send her away to her death. After losing Brielle, Noah, and all my friends and family … it would break me. I couldn’t be party to any more loss. Not if I could prevent it.

  Catia nodded. “I understand. I’m a powerful mage who can turn an Abrus demon into a pile of shit if I want. I’ll make it look like a break-in, and that the girl ran off afterward. It will never come back to you.”

  We both knew she couldn’t guarantee that. Did it matter? I was on borrowed time anyway. No one lasted long in the resistance, and a few months ago I’d been ready to take my own life…

  I just wanted to make a difference in the world, and I couldn’t do that by sacrificing this fifteen-year-old. It would just be another thing to haunt me.

  “Okay, let’s do it,” I confirmed.

  Catia squealed, jumping up and down a few times.

  I held out my hand. “Hold your excitement. The buyer has arranged a private jet for the girl. So, unless you are a flight attendant, you’re not getting on.”

  She grinned suddenly. “When does the plane leave?”

  My brow furrowed. “Noon.”

  With a nod she started to leave the room.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’ve got a plan,” she called out. “I’ll see you at the jet!”

  Why were all the women in my life so strong willed? I couldn’t keep one around long enough to protect them.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Catia was batshit crazy. I showed up to the private hanger with James, who’d been assigned as my broker mentor, and the teen girl. Catia was waiting for us in the jet … dressed as a stewardess. Luckily, I’d been able to brief James on the way over, to tell the teenager I was in the Fallen Army and that we were going to get her back to her family. But still, nothing prepared me for that jet door opening and Catia peeking her head out. Gone were the grease and ratty clothes of her homeless cover, and now she wore a crisp, bright blue stewardess uniform with high heels. She hated heels.

  Where the hell was the flight attendant who was supposed to be on this plane? I didn’t want to know. Catia wouldn’t hesitate to kill her and dump the body, if she determined the flight attendant knew about the kids, and was willingly helping the demons.

  “Bonjour!” Catia greeted with a French accent.

  James and I shared a look. What the actual fuck was going on?

  “Right this way.” Cat let us on the plane. I dragged the timid kid up the steps and strapped her in the seat. All the while, I kept my gaze on my fake girlfriend. How the hell had she managed this?

  “You’re going to be okay. I promise,” I whispered softly to the fifteen-year-old, who’d started to cry a little.

  She just nodded.

  “The flight attendant is one of us. You can trust her,” I told the girl.

  Again she just nodded, in terror, and it killed me that I was contributing to that terror.

  The cockpit door was open and two pilots were inside, chatting casually with each other like they weren’t about to transport a child across the ocean to be enslaved.

  “Starting liftoff protocols,” the captain announced over the speaker, and shut the door to the cockpit, leaving us alone.

  The moment it shut, I stepped into Catia’s space. “What the hell, Cat?” I breathed.

  She glanced at the closed cockpit door warily. “I got this. Don’t worry about me.”

  She’d become my only friend here; we’d been through so much together. Yes, our relationship was fake, but the platonic one we’d built wasn’t. I was going to miss her, worry about her. In a way, she’d filled a void that Brielle left, offering me a small amount of companionship. My throat tightened with emotion. Maybe she didn’t need me to protect her, maybe the best thing for Cat was letting her go. I had to believe she could do this, protect the girl and herself.

  “Be careful,” I told her.

  She looked at the girl fiercely. “I will. Make me proud. Break that record.”

  My throat tightened harder. I didn’t want to let her go. What if she got caught? What if they killed her?

  It was Brielle all over again.

  There was so much I wanted to say, so much I wanted to tell her.

  “I…” I paused.

  She grinned. “I love you too.”

  I smiled back. I did love her, like I loved Noah or Shea. She’d brought me back from the darkness for a short time and I’d never forget her, or the long nights we stayed up playing video games.

  I turned to leave and her hand reached out, catching my upper bicep. When I turned back to face her, there was tenderness in her eyes. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I think Brielle … is alive,” she whispered.

  It was like a punch to my gut; the wind flew out of me. “What? Why?”

  She shrugged. “I got a feeling, a glimpse. My professor said I might be part Sighted. I’ve been trying to find the right time to tell you. I feel like you shouldn’t give up. She’s alive.”

  Don’t give up. She’s alive.

  My knees went weak at her declaration, but just then the jet turbines kicked on and James was pulling me out of there.

  I’d never forget the look on Catia’s face. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see her again, so I wanted to remember her in this moment, full of faith and hope where I had none.

  Something had changed in me since Cat left. She’d blown into my life like a tornado, and left just as quickly, but somehow she’d pieced me back together a little, like Noah would have if I’d let him. She’d given me hope that Brielle was alive, and now I desperately clung to that as I worked to save as many women and children as possible. After posing as a broker for about a month, I’d successfully smuggled seventeen women and children to Angel City, unbeknownst to Marx or any of the other demons.

  I was just starting to think I could do this forever, save hundreds, when a demon kicked down my door.

  Panic ripped through me as I leapt off the couch where I’d been chilling, and backed up into the wall. It was one of Marx’s men. Had I been found out?

  “What the hell?” I shrieked.

  Marx strolled in after him, looking around at my sparse pad.

  “We have a problem, my friend,” Marx drawled, pinning me with a death glare. His small red horns peeked out of his gelled black hair, reminding me of what I was up against.

  My tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth, heart racing. Was this the end of the road for me? Seventeen. I’d saved seventeen lives. That was worth it if this were my last day to draw breath, I decided.

  “Turns out our mutual buddy James was in a little club called the Fallen Resistance.”

  No.

  James.

  I feigned shock. “What? How?”

  The edges of Marx’s lips curled as he stepped closer to me, bringing the stench of hellfire with him. “The how doesn’t matter to me now. What matters is that you prove to me you aren’t with him.”

  Shit.

  James was most likely dead. I knew he’d never rat me out, but we had told Marx we were friends from before, and James had pulled me into the job, so it did look suspicious. I only hoped Mathew had gotten free, and left the city like James had taught him to do if things went south.

  “I … what do you—” He cut off my mumbling by gathering up my shirt.

  Pulling me close to him, he breathed sulfur into my face. “I don’t want to hear what you have to say. You get to show me. You’ve looked familiar since the day you got here, and I couldn’t figure out why. Then today I remembered seeing you on a list of known Celestials years ago. You’re one of Michael’s, aren’t you?”

  The entire world tilted on its axis in that moment. This was how it all went down. This was how you got caught and killed in this city.

  “Screw Michael, man. I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I searched the room for weapons.

  The l
amp was pretty heavy, but I wished I had my sword. I’d cut these two assholes down in one fell swoop.

  Marx grinned at the Brimstone demon beside him. “He’s good. Open the portal. I need to know who I can trust.”

  Portal.

  Oh shit.

  Marx turned back to face me with a slimy grin on his face. “That’s right. I’ve discovered a fail-proof way to see if I have a hidden Celestial in my midst.”

  Hellfire erupted along the Brimstone demon’s palms, and a portal to Hell started to open there. At first it was just a small circle, but it got wider by the moment. This was it. There was no talking my way out of this one. If they made me step into the portal, not only was my cover blown, but I was a dead man.

  What Catia had said on the airplane had stuck with me. She thought Brielle was alive … that meant I had to fight for my life, like Brielle might be fighting for hers.

  I was going to have to go for the element of surprise.

  Shoving my entire bodyweight forward, I knocked Marx backward, just as my wings snapped out behind me.

  Oh God, it felt so good to feel them stretch the length of the room; they’d been cramped for months, like forgotten limbs. Now that they were free, it was like scratching an itch I couldn’t properly reach.

  The front door had been left ajar. If I could just—

  Marx reached out from his place on the ground and swept my legs out from under me.

  “I knew it!” he roared as I struggled to keep my balance.

  The Brimstone demon was speechless, standing there with a half-created portal in his hands while Marx tried to get up from the ground.

  Wasting no time, I reached up on the side table next to the couch and grabbed the heavy brass lamp that Catia and I had picked out from a thrift store—I’d wanted this retro glass one, but she had insisted the brass heavy gargoyle was cool. Tearing the cord from the wall, I came down hard across Marx’s temple and knocked him out clean.

  A thrill went through me. Catia forcing me to buy that ugly ass lamp might have just saved my life.