by Helen Keeble
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to!” I spun around to face the wall, my wings briefly flaring out again before I got them under control. “And I can’t just ogle you in front of an audience!”
“B-but if it’s the only way . . . Krystal, can you, um, step outside?”
“Oh, bollocks. This is such a bad idea—”
A hand closed over my arm, yanking me around. Before I could object, I found myself pushed flat against the wall, head jerked down by my tie, being kissed.
Very . . . thoroughly kissed.
Not that I had a lot to compare it to, but I was pretty sure your standard kiss wasn’t this intense. Tongue seemed to be getting involved. My hands slid down over warm, curved hips, her body melting against mine—
“Um,” I heard Faith say, remarkably clearly. “I don’t think it’s working?”
I drew back—and found myself looking down at annoyed brown eyes. “Krystal?” I yelped, shoving her away.
“Crap,” Krystal said, a little out of breath. She pushed her hair back. “Maybe we did that wrong.”
“We?” I scrubbed my hand across my mouth, horrified. “I’ll tell you what was wrong! You sexually assaulted me, that’s what’s wrong! When I don’t even fancy you!”
Krystal flushed, and not in Faith’s delicate roselike way. She looked more like an angry tomato. “Believe me, I’m fully aware of that,” she spat. “But Faith didn’t want to, and I thought that if I took you by surprise, I might be able to substitute!”
“Um, guys?” Faith ventured tentatively.
“Keep your bright ideas to yourself in the future,” I snarled. “And your tongue!”
Faith bobbed at Krystal’s elbow, hands fluttering. “Really, guys!”
“My tongue!” Krystal said, practically incandescent with rage herself. “I wasn’t the one with the wandering tongue! Or hands!”
“Guys!” Faith shouted, the loudest I’d ever heard her soft voice. “Raffi isn’t glowing anymore.”
“I’m not?” I paused, caught somewhere between relief and indignation. “But I really, really, really am not into Krystal. Not even subconsciously. Trust me on that one.”
“Thanks for that clarification,” Krystal said sourly. “I was worried that a tiny bit of my self-esteem might survive the night uncrushed.”
“Wrath,” Faith said. “It’s another Deadly Sin. And Raffi got angry. So that’s another way to turn him off again.”
“Yeah, well,” I muttered, shooting Krystal a dark glare. “Won’t be a problem getting rid of the halo in the future then, if it comes back.” Krystal made a rude gesture at me, which I was pretty sure had to be sacrilegious under the circumstances.
“At least you can turn up to class now without founding a new cult,” Faith said with forced brightness. “I’m sure your heavenly presence will free the other girls from demonic influence.”
“Actually, I’m pretty sure it won’t.” Faith and Krystal both looked at me—one with perfect trust, the other with perfect irritation, both expectant. I set my shoulders. “But I know what will.”
Chapter 9
So I was, for want of a better word, an angel, possibly with a holy mission to protect the world from the forces of evil. Obviously, there was one thing I had to do as soon as possible.
The next morning, I got up at the crack of dawn, liberated a helmet from the communal bike shed, and set off to learn how to fly.
A half-hour hike found me a nice wide clearing in the woods, well away from the school buildings. With a last glance around to check for onlookers, I shrugged my wings out. Early morning mist scurried along the ground as I lofted them to full vertical extension, the glowing pinions reaching for the sky like outstretched hands. I crouched, looked up, and took a deep breath.
“Okay,” I said softly, and swept my wings down.
It was a good thing I’d worn a helmet.
“Right,” I muttered to myself, spitting out dirt. “Less sideways, more up.”
After another ten minutes of running, leaping, and rather unangelic swearing, I was still resolutely earthbound. I brushed the mud off my knees, scowling. Maybe what I needed was motivation. I’d certainly had plenty last night. Unfortunately, I didn’t think Faith would appreciate her own guardian angel pushing her out a window, not even in the interest of science. And I wasn’t quite confident enough in my wings to want to throw myself out of a window either.
I crouched down in a sprinter’s stance and squeezed my eyes shut. Just think of all the things I’d be able to do once I mastered flight. I’d be able to save Faith if she fell again. I’d be able to sneak out in the evening and find the nearest pub—
“Oh my God,” said a voice behind me.
I leaped into the air in alarm—literally. A short midteens girl in a baggy cardigan and unflattering glasses stood frozen in the bracken, staring up at me with her mouth hanging open. “You’re . . . you’re an angel,” she said.
As I was hovering six feet above her on glowing, slowly beating wings, this did not seem like something I could deny. The rising sun highlighted the girl’s tear-tracked face and red eyes. She took a hesitant step forward, holding up a hand to shield herself from my light. “Who are you?” she breathed.
With my head backlit by my incandescent feathers, she must not have been able to make out my features. If only I could get away quickly, she need never know my identity. “Yes, I am an angel,” I said in the deepest voice I could manage while frantically trying to work out how to go up. I wobbled dangerously in the air. “Sent from Heaven to, uh . . .”
“Smite the wicked?” the girl suggested hopefully. She sniffed, swiping her sleeve across her nose. “Because I can totally give you a list. Starting with that bitch Joanne.”
“Er, no.” What the hell did angels talk about? Half-remembered bits of the few Christmas services my dad had forced me to attend drifted up out of my memory. “I come bearing Good News! For unto you a child shall be born!”
The girl stared at me. She did not look like she considered this to be glad tidings.
“Hey, I just deliver the news, I don’t write it,” I snapped, most of my attention still occupied with wing-wrestling. So this joint moved like this and then rotated like that . . . and to my unending and eternal relief, the ground fell away from beneath my feet. “Bye!”
“But I’m fourteen!” I heard her wail as I soared straight upward. I kept going until I was certain I must be no more than a distant dot in the sky.
“Phew,” I muttered, hovering once more. That had been a close one. I glanced down to see if the girl had gone away yet—and wished I hadn’t, as my stomach pitched at the sight of nothing but thin air between me and the inch-high trees below. I swallowed hard, focusing on the horizon instead. “Okay, Raf. You got up here, so you can get down again. Nice and slow.”
I tentatively tried to bank, tilting my wings like I’d seen seagulls do—and nearly fell to my death. Heart hammering, I managed to hover again. My wings obviously didn’t work like a bird’s. I concentrated for a moment on them, trying to visualize their motion. It seemed to involve twisting in more directions than I had names for. I risked a glance over my shoulder and saw that feathers flickered in and out of view as they beat, as if they kept briefly flashing into wherever they went when I folded them up all the way.
“Huh.” At least they seemed to function well enough, if I didn’t think about it. I fixed my eyes on the distant roof of the sixth-year girls’ dormitory, as tiny as a dollhouse below my dangling feet. “Okay, wings, let’s go there.”
Without any effort, my body still upright as my wings churned gently away behind my shoulders, I slid down out of the sky as if on an invisible escalator. I parked myself directly above the dormitory, taking care to stay too high to be seen from the ground, and pulled out the pair of binoculars I’d borrowed from Faith. I had a hunch about who was behind all this. And I was going to find out exactly why she was always so late to class.
Five minut
es later, my patience was rewarded. A dark figure emerged from the building, her head swiveling as she checked she wasn’t being followed.
Michaela.
I kept pace with her, tracking her progress through Faith’s binoculars. She was heading straight for the old shrine where I’d talked with Faith and Krystal last night. With one last cautious glance behind her, she disappeared into the ruined building.
I dropped silently next to the shrine, folding my wings the instant my feet hit the ground. With a quick check that my feathers were hidden and I wasn’t glowing, I circled the old building, searching for a window. Finding one, I stretched on tiptoe to peer inside.
Lit by the flickering light of a dozen candles, Michaela was chalking an enormous pentagram on the stone floor, whispering under her breath in some arcane tongue.
It was so nice being proven right.
The death threats, the stalking, her complete lack of attraction to me . . . it all made sense now. She was being influenced by demons.
Faith had been dubious when I’d advanced my theory last night. “I don’t think the demons would target Michaela, Raffi,” she’d said, shaking her head. “They go after weak-willed people, who they can tempt into evil. Michaela’s already beautiful and smart and popular. Why would she need to sell her soul?”
Even when Krystal had added her voice to mine, pointing out that it was suspicious that Michaela had arrived at the school mere weeks after Faith’s father had died, Faith had remained stubborn. “It’s a coincidence,” she’d said finally. “She’s never been caught drawing any pentagrams, even though I know for a fact my mother told all the teachers to keep a close eye on her.”
Well, I’d been able to keep an even closer eye on her, and now it was obvious who the demon planned to have as its host. The question was, should I go tell Faith and Krystal what I’d discovered or just confront Michaela here and now? I had heavenly glory on my side, after all, while she had some chalk. This whole thing could be over before breakfast.
While I was hesitating, Michaela drew a few final lines. Still chanting, she stepped into the pentagram . . . and her head snapped around. Her black eyes locked straight on mine. Reaching under her skirt, she pulled out two long, wicked daggers.
Warmth licked my hidden wings, as if something with burning-hot breath had exhaled down the back of my neck. Stifling a yell, I spun—but there was nothing behind me. Even though my spine was now pressed against the wall, I felt tentacles trail over my feathers, the touch light and curious.
There was something else in that mysterious space where my wings went. Something alive.
I ran for the school as if all the forces of Hell were after me. Which, just possibly, they were.
Chapter 10
Michaela can’t be possessed.” Faith tossed a basketball halfheartedly at me, her face whiter than her gym outfit. I was grateful that we had P.E. first thing today. Under the cover of warming up, I’d been able to drag Faith and Krystal off to one side of the playing court to fill them in on what I’d discovered that morning. “It can’t be true.”
“I’m telling you, she is,” I said, bouncing the basketball back. I kept glancing around nervously, but Michaela hadn’t appeared yet. Guess it took a while to commune with demons. “The Hellgate must already be open.”
“No, I’m sure I’d know if it was.” Faith twisted her hands together, the ball flying past her to smack straight into one of our classmates. “But my father told me there were more Hellgates in the world besides this one. The demon must have come through one of those, possessed her before she ever arrived here. She must have been tricked into it, maybe she agreed to the binding so the demon would get her out of that horrible orphanage. . . . Oh, poor Michaela!”
“I always knew she was pure evil.” Krystal looked as if it was Christmas Day and she’d just unwrapped a pony. “Can I watch when you smite her, Raf?”
“When I what?”
“Smite her,” Krystal repeated, a distinctly bloodthirsty gleam in her eye. She took aim at Suzanne, across on the other side of the court, and let fly. The blonde girl yelped as the basketball bounced off her back. Luckily for Krystal, our gym teacher, an enormous woman named Ms. Hellebore, hadn’t noticed the deliberate foul. “Burn her up with your holy fire. Like you smote the Headmistress, only more so.”
“You smote my mother?” Faith exclaimed.
“It was an accident,” I said to her, then rounded on Krystal. “And I’m not going to murder her! What do you think I am?”
Krystal shrugged. “I think you’re a guardian angel. Check out the Bible sometime. The angels in there aren’t exactly nice.” She paused to deflect an incoming basketball and flip off the girl who’d sent it at her. “And we have to do whatever it takes to stop the demon. Don’t you see, Faith, this is why we could never find any hint as to how your dad was keeping the Hellgate closed! He wasn’t doing anything—at least, nothing mystic. He was just stopping demons like Michaela from sneaking in and trying to open it up to summon more of her kind through. We’ve got to stop her.”
I hadn’t thought Faith could go any paler, but she did. “But my father said . . . once a demon is bound to a mortal, that’s it. There’s no way to exorcise it without, without—” She stopped, swallowing hard. “Without killing the host.”
“We’re talking about demons being set free to rampage all over the world, Faith!” Krystal retorted. “We can’t get squeamish.”
That was easy for her to say. I was the one who’d find himself trying to explain to the jury that the angels had made him do it. “Forget it. I’m not smiting anyone.”
“Then you’d better think of another way to get rid of her,” Krystal said, staring over my shoulder. “Fast.”
The next thing I knew, I was sprawled on the ground, feeling as though my brain had been knocked out my ears. “Now that’s just pathetic,” I heard Michaela say, through the ringing pain. She strolled over to us, her brief gym shorts showing off her endless legs. “I thought it would be easy to defeat you, but I didn’t think it would be this easy.”
I scrambled to my feet, getting between her and Faith. “You just took me by surprise.” Our classmates were too busy chasing balls to notice the confrontation, but I lowered my voice anyway. “I’ll give you one chance. Leave this school, or I’ll make you leave.”
“I know what you are now, Michaela,” Faith said. Her voice trembled, but she came to stand at my side. Krystal, I noticed with irritation, had buggered off at the first sign of trouble. “And Raffi’s going to stop you.”
“I’m terrified,” Michaela said. “See me quake. Oh, no, wait.” She folded her arms, her black eyes mocking. “See Raffi quake.”
Hellfire breath licked my hidden feathers. I couldn’t help cowering, my invisible wings clamping tight to my back as I was driven to my knees.
“Stop it!” Faith was cringing too as if she also felt the demon’s hidden presence. “Leave us alone!”
“Never.” Michaela leaned in close, staring directly into Faith’s terrified eyes. “Now that you know about me, I’ll give you one last chance, Faith. No matter what your little pet here says, you won’t close the Hellgate. One way or another, I’ll stop you from getting to that Ball. Run away while you still can.”
“Get away from her!” The demon was still breathing down the back of my neck, but the sight of Faith in danger was enough to get me back on my feet. I lunged for Michaela, but she swayed on the balls of her feet, effortlessly turning my momentum against me. I slammed against the wall of the court, Michaela holding my arm painfully twisted behind my back.
“You want to do this here and now?” Michaela snarled into my ear. She was inhumanly strong. She only needed one hand to pin me in place, her other tracing a pentagram on my back as she spoke. “Happy to oblige.” She whispered something in a foreign language and I cringed . . . but nothing happened. Burning heat still washed over my wings, but I felt Michaela’s grip slacken fractionally, as if she was surprised by something.
“Is there a problem here?” boomed Ms. Hellebore, looming over us. Michaela released me in a hurry. Evidently, not even a demon wanted to tangle with someone who looked like she swigged steroids for breakfast.
“Like I said, Michaela attacked Raf! Totally unprovoked!” Krystal bobbed at the teacher’s side like a tugboat next to a battle cruiser.
“I know how hot teenage tempers can run, Michaela, but you must learn to channel your aggression productively,” Ms. Hellebore said severely. A circle of girls was forming around us as the class sensed imminent drama. “We are not brutes, settling differences with mere fists.” She pointed back into the gym. “Go to my office and fetch the disciplinary equipment. I think you need to spend this lesson on your own, practicing your self-control.”
“Yes, Ms. Hellebore,” Michaela replied dutifully, though her black eyes flashed with leashed rage. “This isn’t over, Rafael,” she breathed. She stalked back into the gym, the crowd drawing back hastily to let her through.
“Let’s hear some balls bouncing!” Ms. Hellebore roared, nearly scaring my own off me. Our audience scattered. Under the sudden din of rubber hitting asphalt, she said to me, “I could give you some tips on combat techniques, if you wanted. Looks like you could use them.”
“Thanks, miss.” I got to my feet, brushing dirt off my grazed knees. “But actually, my dad’s already taught me a load of self-defense stuff.” Unfortunately, how to defend yourself from invisible demons hadn’t been on the curriculum.
“Self-defense only?” Ms. Hellebore sniffed in disdain. “Useless. The best defense is a good offense. I can show you how to take down your enemy before they even know you’re there.”
“Uh, thanks, but really I’m—SHE’S GOT A GUN!”
Faith squawked as I knocked her off her feet. I spun, intending to tackle Krystal as well—and discovered that she, along with everyone else, was staring at me as if I’d gone insane.