by Emery Skye
I gave her my 'Do you think I'm stupid?' look.
“Well, I mean—” she continued, then paused, “It’s not what you think.” She wouldn't look at me. She never could lie. Not to me.
I had a lot I wanted to say, but I couldn’t. I was confused and sad. She wasn’t talking to me. Amalie and I had always been there for each other. Everything changed overnight. I just wanted my sister back.
“Yeah, well Legite Cassian, saw you come here, which means somebody else could have, too. Let's clean this up before anyone else sees what it doesn’t look like.”
Her shoulders dropped in relief.
I knelt down and picked up files, rearranging them alphabetically. I couldn’t look at them. I was ashamed of Amalie and really pissed off at Alyosha.
I growled, frustrated, as I read some of the file names: “OLD LAW, ANGEL RIGHTS.” Why would a healing rituals teacher have a ton of files about law? All these files on law. Except one. That one caught my attention. I picked it up and read the name over and over: Why was my file here?
“What are you doing?!” Deror demanded, an equally beautiful and angry sound. I immediately hurt all over. Overtime. I decided probation officer and mentor were the two best names for Deror. I glanced over my shoulder and saw him, Deror, fuming by the door. He was starkly out of place standing by the green leaf with his black cargos and golden skin.
“Oww!” Amalie shrieked.
She'd been picking up the broken glass and cut herself.
Without thinking, I ripped off my sleeve and gave it to her to use as a hankie. Deror moved faster. He caught my wrist and yanked me to my feet. I clutched my folder in my free hand and closed my eyes prepared for the worst ass-chewing of my life.
It didn't happen. After a moment or two, I opened my eyes. Deror still gripped my wrist. He didn’t look mad, which confused the hell out of me. It must be worse than I thought.
“How did this happen?” he asked.
I didn’t understand what he was asking, so I just stood there.
“Anna, you’re bleeding,” Amalie said.
I looked down, and there it was. My left arm, the arm holding the files, bled. Badly. It gushed. I hadn’t been cut. Had I? Had I unknowingly grabbed glass? I must have. It was the only thing that made sense.
Pain shot through my arm. I looked into Deror’s eyes. He scanned my arm. I knew he was looking for the wound, but there was so much blood. The puddle on the floor was a big as my head. He'd wrapped my arm with his shirt, but within seconds my blood soaked through the fabric. It was the most bizarre thing. I was light-headed. He grabbed Amalie and pulled her to me.
She said something I couldn’t understand. Everything sounded several miles away. My head grew heavier. Even my eyelids got heavy. This was annoying. Amalie grabbed my arm and squeezed it. There was a little pinch of pain, nothing severe.
Alyosha came to me and grabbed my other arm and guided me to the chair. I wanted to resist, but I was powerless. Deror was running around the office and grabbing handfuls of leaves.
Was now really the time to make a flower arrangement?
I tried to tell him that, or anything, but no words would come. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again, I saw stars. They danced wonderfully and there were so many. I was drunk. How did this happen?
Deror took the shirt off my arm and I could feel the hot blood run freely down my arm. He did something that stung, but I couldn’t lift my head to see what it was. Since when was my head so big? Oh, was my head growing? Was that why I couldn’t lift it? I didn’t want a bigger head.
The stars started to disappear. I could hear Amalie’s frightened voice. My head became lighter. Everything started spinning terribly fast. I was horribly ill. Now I was hung-over? How long had I been drunk? It felt like a super long time.
“Anna,” Nathan said. Amalie followed, then Alyosha, but I couldn’t respond. I was trying to stop my head from spinning.
“Why isn’t she talking?” asked Amalie.
“Give her time,” he told her.
“What happened, Anna?” asked Amalie.
Deror’s beautiful olive green eyes asked the same question.
“I don’t know,” I sputtered.
His eyebrows furrowed.
“I don’t remember even getting cut.”
Nathan shook his head.
“Well, I was cut,” I looked at everyone and saw confusion of sorts. “Wasn’t I?” My head had finally stopped spinning, but my stomach felt like it churned butter.
“Not from what we could see, Anna. No wound,” Amalie sat next to me.
I looked around. The shock kicked me in the gut.
"Why are we here? How did we get here? What happened? We need to clean up?”
I stood up too fast. I saw the stars again, and everyone reached out to steady me. I sat.
“We'll take care of it, Anna. You be still.”
Alyosha’s concern, no, compassion, sounded genuine.
Even so, I still wanted to kill him. He was bad for Amalie. It was his fault she'd broken into at least two buildings, read confidential Academy files, and God alone knew what else.
A scream welled up from deep within me. I didn't have the energy to do it justice, so I choked it down. This took several minutes. I belched several times. I finally let it go. The pressure in my belly eased. I relaxed. A few seconds later I embarrassed myself by letting rip the biggest, most embarrassing burp of my life. Everybody stopped while it happened, then went on as if nothing had. Except for Alyosha. I heard him whisper.
"Nice one."
My cheeks warmed up.
Everyone sorted folders.
Deror was out of sorts. Playing janitor was beneath him. He might still rat us out. He was all angel and angels follow the law and protocol.
Us, I thought. There was no us. Amalie and Alyosha held one-hundred percent responsibility. Idiots. We'd already been punished once. The next one was really going to suck. They restored the office to its former glory.
Amalie and Alyosha were twin images of despair. They both stared at the floor. I watched them flinch as Deror looked at them periodically. Even I feared his anger.
“Amalie and Alyosha, you are dismissed. Say nothing of this to anyone.” They started for the door. “Anything more than one tardy each until the end of term, and you risk expulsion. You understand?"
They nodded in unison and left. Seriously? He just let them leave?
“You,” he faced me, “are excused from detention this afternoon...”
I smiled a little.
His voice became ominous.
“Get as much rest as you can. You're going to need it. We're starting at 2:00AM. Don't be late.”
I felt worse than ever. I’d be paying for their sins, again. 2:00 AM had to be criminal. Worst. Day. Ever. And I hadn’t even eaten lunch yet.
“For now,” his voice gentled. He came to me and stood nearby. The touch of his hand made my hair stand on end. Goose bumps rippled down my arms and up my legs. “I must insist on escorting you to your room.”
“But... I... have class.”
“No, you don’t. You'll be excused. I'll talk to the Patron and your teachers. You'll go straight to your room and get some rest.”
I wanted to tell him he wasn't the boss of me, but every step I took wore me out more.
Once we reached the quad, Deror let go of me and walked next to me at a proper distance. I assumed he didn’t want others to stare, or conjure up some outrageous assumptions about our relationship. If only they knew.
Deror escorted me to Michael's Citadel.
I had to go to one class.
In Swordsmanship, like all the others today, I stared at my notebook and pretended to take notes. My day turned to shit when Hans walked in late. His face was red and blotchy. Finally, Hans didn’t look the tiniest bit hot.
“Class dismissed.” Dr. Ezekiel announced.
I tried to get out as fast as I could.
“Anna.”
&nbs
p; Great. Taylor.
I walked faster. She grabbed my shoulder.
“What, Taylor?”
She grinned mischievously. I knew I’d hate whatever she said.
“Guess what I heard?”
She paused, waiting for a response. I just stood there.
“I heard you got caught with Alyosha. The Patron practically sentenced you to life in the Dark World...And, Amalie hates you.”
Rumors. I wanted to punch Taylor in the face. I left her before I could change my mind.
“Anna! Amalie ditched her last class!”
I turned.
“What the hell are you talking about?" I shoved her against the wall.
“Look, don’t get all pissy with me. It’s not my fault you’re little sister is acting out. If you were my sister I’d probably have lost it a long time ago.”
I heard what she said, but it sounded far away. Like the words were muddled under water.
I grabbed her neck feeling her warm skin under my cool fingertips.
“Bitch!” she gasped as she reached her hands up and clawed at mine. “Don’t hate the messenger.”
That did it; I punched her.
Only I didn’t.
Someone caught my arm, causing electricity to surge through my chest.
I let go of Taylor, looked over my shoulder, and...Legite Deror. Great. He was livid. I shrank back, wishing I could disappear.
Taylor jumped out from behind me and wrapped her arms around his waist.
“She tried to kill me! She's crazy!” Her falsely shrill voice was repulsive.
First, he sees me with Hans. Then Amalie with Alyosha, then breaking into an office, and here I almost pounded Taylor’s face. Model noviate here.
Deror must have seen me roll my eyes because this vein in his forehead started throbbing so fast I thought he was going to have a stroke.
“Go to the gym!” I was totally paralyzed. “Now!”
I began to move very quickly. Crazy how that worked.
I made my way through the sea of noviates to the gym. On the way, I kept my eyes peeled for Amalie. She had to be somewhere.
Only she wasn’t.
When I arrived at the gym, the mats were still out. Deror had canceled the combat class. Odd. Even odder was the pile of books on the floor. What?
The door behind me closed loudly. I didn’t turn around; I knew it was Deror. I wished I could disappear again. I could feel him coming up fast, even though I couldn't hear him. I wondered briefly why he'd let me hear the door shut.
He was suddenly in front of me again. I hated it when he did that.
“Anna.”
The anger in his voice almost visible.
I cleared my throat.
“Yes?”
“What were you thinking?” His inability to breathe evenly signed anger.
“Someone's spreading rumors about last night.”
“Rumors! Rumors?” He grabbed my shoulders. I thought he was about to shake me. Hard. “You're about to get yourself transferred—or expelled—and ruin my reputation because of rumors?”
I hadn’t thought about it like that.
“I—”
“And what about earlier?” he lowered his voice, “Breaking into a professor's office? Do you have any idea what would have happened if the Patron found out?” He shook his head. “I thought you were a superior noviate. But, after all this..." he sighed. "I was clearly wrong. I can't tell you how disappointed I am.”
He turned his back on me and sighed again.
“I'm sorry, Legite Deror. I didn’t consider the consequences of my actions. She told me Amalie cut class. I was so mad about...” I wanted to tell him everything I'd done was because of Amalie, but I couldn’t throw her under the bus like that.
He turned back to me.
“Did you say Amalie cut class?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Lucas is watching Gabriel’s Citadel. He should've alerted security by now.” He might have been more concerned than I was.
“Maybe Taylor lied,” he clenched his jaw. “She does that.”
He almost bought it, and then he shook his head.
“I'll go see for myself,” he started for the door. I tried to follow. He stopped me. “Where do you think you're going?”
“To check on Amalie.”
“No, you're not,” he snarled. “You're going to stay here and clean mats. After that, you run. Twenty miles. Got it?”
I wanted to hit him and say a thousand nasty things.
“Fine,” was what I said instead.
Cleaning the mats took forever. After what felt like two hours, I'd finished maybe ten with close to fifty to go. I couldn’t stop thinking about Amalie and Deror. He should've been back by now.
It wasn’t like me to flake out on a task, but there was no way in hell I could finish without knowing if Amalie was all right. I crept to the door. When I looked outside, all I saw was snow. No guard. Good to go.
I snuck out and padded along using the building’s shadows to hide me. I was looking sideways when something familiar pushed up against my head.
Shit. I swiveled my neck around and my eyes were level with an amazingly taut chest beneath a black T. I looked up at…Deror. An even more pissed Deror than before if possible. How did he do that? Guy was a freaking Arch. As in, Archangel. Seriously.
“Where are you going?” His voice had permanently changed from beautiful to scary.
“The bathroom.” I smiled as I lied. He didn't bite.
He waived me around. I obeyed, with no questions asked.
I went straight to cleaning the mats as he cleaned his staggering collection of daggers, swords, and bows. They were so pretty and shiny. Most girls liked diamonds. I coveted to weapons. Yep, definitely not your typical high school girl.
“Did you find Amalie?” I couldn’t think of any way to ease into the question.
He didn't respond. Go figure.
“Look, again, I'm sorry. But, is she...”
“Yes. Taylor exaggerated. She didn’t exactly ditch. She was excused for personal reasons.”
“Like what?”
“Like,” he mimicked my tone, “personal.”
I groaned. He smirked.
Whatever, as long as she was okay. Personal... What could that mean? It seemed like an hour had passed. The disgusting, once black, mats were slowly turning blue. I wondered if that was their original color... Disturbing. They'd been black since I'd started here. Gross.
Pain chewed its way up my right arm. I looked down. My veins had turned blue, and swollen. “Umm... Deror?”
“Yes, Anna?”
“Well,” I swallowed hard. “My arm's turning colors. Should I be worried?”
He jumped down in front of me again, and I was comforted. He clutched my arm like a writhing snake. He studied it like a science project. His wide eyes said it might be as bad as it looked. I could see it swelling. It started to throb.
“Umm…Legite Deror. Is my arm getting bigger or it is just me?” I blinked a few times and stretched my eyes open.
“No.”
“No, what?” I blinked again.
“It’s not just you.” He pulled something that looked like salt out of his pocket, but it was green and purple. I wanted to pull away, but something in his eyes stopped me.
He rubbed the salt on my arm, hard. He rubbed for a while. It hurt less than I expected. Eventually, the blue faded, and the swelling went down. His hands felt amazing against my skin.
“So, am I supposed to carry that stuff with me after I graduate?”
He didn’t say anything for a while, and continued stroking my arm. The once painful contact began to feel good. Really good.
“No, it's not something every Warrior carries. I started carrying it just this afternoon.” He let go of my arm and rubbed his hands together, allowing the last of the salt to fall to the floor like shooting stars.
“Wait? You know what happened to my arm?”
He
stood and walked briskly away.
“No, I don’t,” he stopped. “It’s too early to tell. You should get to your room and get some rest.”
I didn't argue, too tired to.
“Anna, don’t forget. 4:00AM tomorrow morning.”
Oh, wow. So, that sucked. Better than 2:00.
When I got to my room, my cozy bed, loving pictures, and the surprisingly comforting alarm clock greeted me.
I passed out in about ten seconds.
Chapter 9
I looked over at the gleaming red numbers. 12:00 AM. I heard myself grumbling. Sleep avoided me like I wished Taylor would. I rolled over, hoping maybe I could sleep just one more hour, but I couldn’t. My mind wouldn’t shut off. Not now. Dumb brain. I needed the sleep.
I grabbed a book at my bedside hiding in a drawer. Amalie had her drawings, and I had this: a romantic novel I’d read a million times and loved for reasons I didn’t fully understand. I read for a while, but thoughts about my messed up arm and my sister breaking into offices with Alyosha consumed my mind.
I stopped reading. Come to think of it, the last I heard of Amalie, she might have run out of class.
The floorboard creaked outside my door. That was how it was. This old building had many flaws including creaky floors. You’d think it’d be some super angel building with no defects. Nope. The academies weren’t where time or money was spent. Every bit of our resources went to Bethel and with the legites on missions.
I wondered who could be outside my door at this hour. Most Warriors stayed by the lobby door. That meant a student violated curfew. Please, please for Power’s sake, don’t let it be Amalie.
I tried to look at my white ceiling and not think about delinquent runaways. I failed. The thing was, Amalie could be, and probably was, the delinquent, given recent events. I sat up, pulled on my favorite hoodie and put my long, blonde hair in a ponytail.
Slowly, very slowly, I opened my door. The hallway was empty.
Maybe I should just check Amalie’s room to make sure that she’s there. I wouldn’t be talking to her so I wouldn’t technically be breaking my probation. Yeah, so that’s a stretch.
Works for me.
I turned left and went a few doors down to Amalie’s. I stared at her door, covered with pictures of us as kids. There were no pictures of my mom because she never stuck around long enough to be in a picture. It had drawings on it, and a big sign that said, “THIS IS AMALIE’S ROOM.” It always surprised me how different we were. I didn't accessorize my space like that. I looked left then right. No one accessorized their space like that.