No Angel

by Helen Keeble

  Krystal was fiddling with the fingerprint scanner. It let out a disapproving bloop, and she hissed in frustration. “I hope the angel realizes we can’t just walk through the wall.”

  “You can’t,” I said, staring up at the still-bouncing angel. I had the feeling it was trying to tell me something . . . “But maybe some of us can. Faith, remember when I jumped in front of you during the game?”

  “Yes?” Faith’s puzzled expression cleared into sudden enlightenment. “Oh! You teleported across the clearing!”

  “Not exactly.” I spread all six wings, their light shimmering in the gloomy corridor. “I flew. It was pure instinct, but I somehow leaped into Heaven for a second, and landed back on Earth somewhere else.”

  Krystal face-palmed. “Four-dimensional being. Of course! You can go over things by moving in the fourth dimension. Like we can just step over a line drawn on a piece of paper, moving in three-dimensional space to get around a two-dimensional object.”

  “Uh, if you say so. Anyway, I think I could do it again.” Experimentally, I beat all six wings downward at once—and found myself hovering in Heaven, looking back down at Earth.

  “Raf? Raf!” Krystal yelled, sounding panicked. Both she and Michaela were swiveling their heads, trying to work out where I’d gone.

  “It’s okay.” Faith was staring directly at me with her angelic eyes. “He’s up there. Raffi?”

  I folded my wings again, dropping down to Earth. Krystal yelped as I appeared out of nowhere next to her. “Faith and I can get in.” I glanced at the angel above our heads. “Michaela, I really need to ask your guardian something. Can you translate the response?” She nodded, and I hesitated for a second, wondering how I could tell if the angel was even listening to me. “Uh . . . hey, you up there. Can you do me a favor?”

  Michaela squeezed her eyes shut in pain. “Did you really just start a prayer of supplication for divine intervention with ‘Hey, you up there’?”

  I decided to ignore that. “Can you watch over Michaela and Krystal for a bit?” I asked the angel. “Just in case the Headmistress goes after them while Faith and I are busy.”

  The angel’s wings briefly enfolded Michaela. “Yes,” she said simply. The angel retreated, and Michaela swayed on her feet. Faith hurried to support her. “I need to lie down now.”

  “Krys, can you get her back to her room? Actually, you’d both better wait there, it’s too dangerous to hang around here. We’ll meet up with you once we’ve investigated.”

  “Okay.” Krystal took over the job of supporting Michaela, who leaned on her a lot less gratefully than she’d done on Faith. Krystal squeezed my hand briefly. “Good luck, Raf. Be careful.”

  “You bet.” Faith had already flown over the door. I flapped my own wings to lift myself briefly out of the normal world, landing again next to Faith. “I really hate that.” I rubbed my arms, half expecting to find them blistered and burned. “It’s like jumping through an inferno.”

  “I guess our human halves aren’t built for heaven.” Faith was already poking through the coats hung up behind the door. “Come on, help me search.”

  “For what?” There was a small kitchen area in one corner of the room, with a humming fridge and a couple of cabinets. I opened one of them, discovering nothing more sinister than an enormous carton of bodybuilder’s protein powder with a note stuck to it: Oleander, if you so much as touch this, I’ll practice discus with your spleen—Hellebore. This was probably not what the angel wanted us to see.

  “I don’t know! The angel said we had to ‘choose with open eyes.’ There must still be some secret hidden away that we need to—Raffi, Ms. Henbane’s got a pentagram on her key chain!”

  “Yeah, she’s a Satanist. Don’t ask.” Closing the cupboard door, I tried to open the fridge. The handle resisted me. Something inside was jamming the mechanism. I tried to peer inside with angelsight, but was foiled by the dark clouds still masking the room. “I don’t think she’s dangerous, though.”

  “There has to be something in here.” Faith rifled through the layered memos pinned to the notice board as if expecting to find one with the heading RE: HELLGATE, CLOSING OF. “A hidden summoning circle with my mother’s real name, or, or a diary, or—”

  The fridge door finally sprang open. I stared at the contents. “Or a body.”

  “I think that’s a little unlikely,” Faith said, not looking up from the notices.

  “No, I mean, literally, there’s a body. In the fridge.” She was curled into a tight ball of sticklike limbs and bony spine, completely filling the small space. One of her hands had flopped out when I’d opened the door. “It’s Ms. Vervaine.”

  Faith’s horrified eyes met mine. In the same moment, I heard footsteps approaching the door. There wasn’t even time to kick the fridge closed again. Spreading our wings, we both leaped into Heaven, disappearing from normal sight just as the fingerprint scanner outside beeped.

  That weird fog still shrouded everything, but the combined light of our wings was bright enough to cut through it somewhat, letting us see what was going on down below. Hovering invisibly above the mortal world, I watched as Ms. Hellebore came into the teachers’ lounge, whistling. Her tune broke off midnote as she saw Ms. Vervaine’s lifeless, limp hand sticking out of the fridge. “Oh, not again,” she said in tones of deep disgust. Shaking her head, she poked the hand back in, shut the fridge door, and started mixing herself a protein shake.

  “Ms. Hellebore?” Whispers carried weirdly in Heaven, but I could still make out the shock and confusion in Faith’s voice. “Ms. Hellebore killed Ms. Vervaine? Is she another demon?”

  Before I could respond, the fingerprint scanner beeped once more. “Vervaine’s in the fridge again, Oleander,” Ms. Hellebore said without looking around.

  “Lazy cow.” Ms. Oleander didn’t so much as glance at the fridge. “And at a time like this.” Faith and I stared at each other as Ms. Oleander heaved a large bucket up onto the table with a grunt. There was a biohazard symbol printed on the side. She peeled back the lid. “Can I have some of your protein powder?”

  “No. It’s disgusting enough watching you as it is.”

  “Squeamish, Fury?” Ms. Oleander said, scooping diced offal out of the bucket and into a large cereal bowl. “I thought your type loved blood.” The door beeped and slid open yet again. “Henbane, didn’t you tell Vervaine to stay out of the fridge?”

  “Oh, honestly.” Ms. Henbane gave a sniff of disdain as she swept past on her way to the coffee machine. “One of these days I’m going to bury her body while she’s taking one of these little rests. It would serve her right to come back and find it half decayed.” She poured coffee into a mug. It had a picture of a little red devil surrounded by hearts on its side. “If the rest of us can expend the effort to stay in possession, why can’t she?”

  “What d’you expect of a Sloth?” Ms. Oleander said with her mouth full. “Well, the Headmistress will expect her at this war meeting. Henbane, go haul her up.”

  “Excuse me?” Ms. Henbane said, looking offended. “I don’t take orders from you, Glutton. Go get her yourself.”

  “Hen, you know it takes Oleander forever to reconnect to her digestive system,” Ms. Hellebore said wearily. “And I’m possessing far more muscle groups than you bother to control. It’ll be fastest if you go.”

  Ms. Henbane swore under her breath in a foreign language, but put her coffee cup carefully down on the work top. She straightened, closing her eyes—and dropped dead.

  “Prideful cow,” Ms. Oleander muttered, eyeing Ms. Henbane’s collapsed corpse with dislike. “Thinks she’s better than the rest of us.”

  “Shut up, Oleander, or I’ll break your jaw. I don’t need you stirring up trouble.” Ms. Hellebore cracked her huge knuckles.

  A group of lower-year teachers that I didn’t know personally came in as she spoke. They sat down at the far end of the table, grumbling amongst themselves about the interruption to their day. Not one of them so muc
h as batted an eyelid at the bodies on the floor. “You heard the Headmistress. It’s more important than ever to work together, or we’ll all end up like the succubus.”

  “I heard she got burned so badly, she’ll never be able to possess anyone again,” one of the other teachers chimed in. “She was only five years away from finishing her service here too.”

  “And I’ve only got two to go until I’m released,” Ms. Hellebore said, raising her voice to address the room at large. “So if any of you worms puts a feather out of line, I will personally rip your tentacles off and floss with them. I’m not having any of you ruin the Prince’s big day.” She grinned wolfishly. “He’s sure to be very grateful to those who prepared the way for him. I think I’ll ask for a nice war. I rather fancy visiting France.”

  “You say that like there’s still a chance our little nephil will agree to bind with him.” Ms. Oleander gnawed nervously at her thumbnail. “You saw the light over at the old shrine. That has to have been Dante’s pet, ruining all our plans. I don’t understand why the Headmistress wouldn’t let me eat the spare nephil the instant he left the sanctified ground, just to be safe.”

  “Always thinking with your stomach. Our nephil definitely wouldn’t trust us ever again if you ate her friend in front of her. Anyway, the boy’s got a father, you know. He’d be bound to raise a fuss, and do you know how much money it would cost to hush that up? Asking an Avarice demon as powerful as the Headmistress to part with that much cash is like asking you to go on a diet.” Ms. Hellebore leaned back in her chair, looking unconcerned. “The Headmistress said she’d take care of the nephilim and she will. When have you ever known her to fail?”

  “There’s a first time for everything. I still think there’s even odds on all of us finding ourselves cut loose from our host bodies and thrown back in the Pit before the end of the week.” Ms. Oleander stared glumly into her bowl. “If this is going to be my last meal, I should have brought ketchup.”

  “There,” interrupted Ms. Henbane, sitting up again. “She hadn’t gone far down.” As she spoke, Ms. Vervaine climbed stiffly out of the fridge. “Oh, for Beelzebub’s sake, Vervaine, get yourself under control. You’re not even trying to look human.”

  “Why bother?” croaked Ms. Vervaine. Frost cracked off her clothes. “No pupils here.” She rubbed at her eyes with one stiff hand, her arm moving as jerkily as a puppet with half its strings cut. “Too bright. Why?”

  “You’ve frozen your corneas again,” Ms. Oleander began—and then she looked sharply up from her bowl. “Wait. It is brighter.”

  Faith clutched my arm. “Raffi, I think they can tell we’re here!”

  With horror, I realized that Faith was right. The darkness surrounding the teachers’ lounge had thinned considerably, driven back by our combined angelic glow.

  Every one of Ms. Hellebore’s impressive muscles tensed. “Dante’s pet,” she growled. Shadows flickered around her outline—

  As one, Faith and I beat our wings hard, hurling ourselves higher heavenward as tentacles erupted from the mortal plane like a giant squid breaching out of the ocean. The grasping limbs missed our dangling feet by inches before sinking back out of sight. The mortal world blurred by under us as we fled as fast as our wings could carry us.

  “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” Michaela yelped as we dropped into normal space inside her room. She whirled, daggers flashing. “Sancte Michael Archangele—”

  “No, it’s us!” I said from the floor. Michaela’s daggers had missed me by inches. At least I’d managed to land on something soft. “Sorry, Krys,” I added, rolling off of her. “You okay?”

  “Fine!” Krystal squeaked. “Never better!” Face red, she scrambled to her feet, ignoring my outstretched hand. She cleared her throat, occupying herself with brushing at her clothes. “Did you guys manage to find anything out?”

  Faith and I exchanged glances. “The good news is that your angel is right,” Faith said. “The demons are afraid Raffi and I will close the Hellgate together.”

  “They are?” Michaela’s eyebrows shot up—and then drew down again. “Wait, demons? Plural?”

  “That’s the bad news,” I said grimly. “All the other teachers are demons.”

  Michaela and Krystal stared at us.

  In the silence, the knock at the door sounded as loud as a gunshot.

  “Good evening,” the Headmistress said, entering without waiting to be invited. She looked around at us all, her expression cool and calm as ever. “I believe we need to talk.”

  Chapter 30

  NO!” Faith shouted, tackling Michaela around the waist as the other girl leaped for the Headmistress with daggers raised. The two crashed into a shelf, textbooks and papers tumbling over their heads. Faith pinned Michaela’s wrists against the wall. “You can’t hurt her! She’s still my mother!”

  “She’s a demon!” Michaela struggled against Faith’s grip. “She’s evil!”

  “You heard the others talking, Faith.” The instant the door had opened, I’d thrust Krystal behind me and snatched my keys out of my pocket. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but at least they were metal. Angelic fire crackled around my wings, eager to be released into the mortal world as I pointed them straight at the Headmistress. “She’s knows we’re onto them. She’s probably here to kill us all.”

  “If I wanted to kill you, Mr. Angelos, you would already be dead.” The Headmistress did not appear the slightest bit perturbed by the sudden outbreak of weaponry. “And as for evil, Miss Dante, may I remind you that it was not I who attempted to shoot an innocent girl.” She seated herself on Michaela’s swivel chair. “But you have one thing correct.” For an instant, a black aura flickered around her. All our breaths steamed in the suddenly freezing air. “I am a demon.”

  Michaela made another desperate lunge, Faith barely managing to hang on to her. “Let me go, Faith! You have to let me protect you!”

  “Yes,” the Headmistress said unexpectedly. “Release her, Faith. It is the fastest way I can prove my intentions.” When Faith hesitated, her mother barked, “Now! Do not be afraid. She will not harm me.”

  The instant Faith’s hands opened, Michaela scooped up her daggers and lunged for the Headmistress. Before I could even blink, let alone move to back her up, she had buried one in the Headmistress’s throat, the other in her heart. “That was the last mistake you’ll ever make,” Michaela snarled. “Sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos in proelio!”

  Nothing happened.

  “Are you quite finished?” the Headmistress asked calmly, around the dagger in her neck. A trickle of blood ran down the blade, dark and sluggish. “We do not have long. Even demonic teachers will only sit around drinking tea and complaining at each other for so long before growing bored.”

  “Contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto . . . esto . . .” Michaela trailed off, baffled. She looked around as if searching for something. “Rafael? Where’s my guardian angel?”

  “Right above you, as always.” The creature was at its customary station, hovering heavenward over Michaela’s head. All of its eyes were fixed on the Headmistress, but its flames were low and dull, like a banked fire.

  “The demon isn’t doing anything to stop her?”

  “Not that I can see.”

  “Or me,” Faith added, frowning as she stared at the angel herself. Only two of its wings beat, slowly, while the rest had drawn tight about its body, muffling its glow. “Though it looks . . . sad.”

  “Doubtless due to your appalling pronunciation,” the Headmistress said to Michaela. She took hold of Michaela’s daggers between finger and thumb, drawing them out of her flesh. The wounds closed up the instant the blades left her skin. “Latin may be a dead language, Miss Dante, but there is no need to desecrate the corpse.”

  Michaela backed off, looking down at her daggers as if they’d misfired. “I don’t understand. You’re a demon. Why won’t my guardian attack you?”

  “Because she knows what else I am,” the Headmistr
ess said. She sat back in her chair, steepling her fingers. “A traitor.”

  We all, as one, stared at her.

  The Headmistress raised her eyebrows at us. “You never wondered how I could fail to notice for sixteen years that my husband was a demon hunter? You did not pause to ponder why I would allow a known Dante to rampage unchecked within my territory? You never calculated the odds of the one male I allow into this school turning out to be an unknowing nephil?” She shook her head. “Remedial critical-thinking classes for you all, I believe.”

  “Okay, hold it right there,” Krystal said from behind me. She shoved at my shoulder. “And Raf, sweet as this is, stop squishing me into the wall. I don’t think she’s going to suck my soul out.” She ducked under my arm to face the Headmistress square on, hands on her hips. “I’ll accept that there are a lot of things that make more sense if you’ve secretly been on our side all along. But if you really are working for good, then the thing that doesn’t make sense is why you’re letting a dozen demons run around this school!”

  “Better this school than the world, Miss Moon. Would you rather Ms. Hellebore was giving weapons lessons to terrorists instead of teenagers? I am powerful enough that here, on my home ground, they must obey me. I drag them in from around the world, kicking and complaining. While they are working for me I am able to curtail their worst excesses.” She gestured around at us all. “The success of that may be judged by the fact that none of you, with all your knowledge, suspected what they truly were before today. Miss Dante, have you ever heard of demons behaving this subtly before?”

  “No,” Michaela growled. “But that just proves you’re exceptionally dangerous, if you can command lesser demons to act against their natures.”

  “Miss Dante, you are quite willfully obtuse.” The Headmistress sighed. “Please ask yourself, if I was evil . . . why would I command demons to restrain themselves?”

  “You’re reformed,” Faith breathed. Rising hope shone in her face. Taking two steps forward, she reached out to clasp her mother’s unresisting hands. “You’re redeemed! My father’s love redeemed you!”