Devoted (Angel Academy Book 1)

by Emery Skye

  “What the hell, Taylor. You don’t have to be such a bitch!”

  Awe, that sounded like the Amalie I know and loved. My sidekick.

  Fighting the lump in my throat, and the burning in my eyes, I looked at Amalie.

  “No, Taylor’s right. Nathan could never want anything from me.”

  She looked at me sadly. I turned on Taylor.

  “Good news is, I don’t love him,” My heart hurt. I was lying—to myself and them. Saying it aloud didn’t make me believe it.

  “I need to take a shower, and we need to get this show on the road,” I smiled tightly and felt my eyes burning.

  Run away.

  Run away.

  That's what I did.

  Chapter 19

  Taking a shower was one the strangest and most rewarding experiences of the last few months. How exactly there was a shower of tepid water in a gopher hole, I wasn’t sure.

  My mom always said, "Never look a gift horse in the mouth."

  So I didn't. My clothes were still dirty. I didn’t care. It was so nice to be clean. I finally cried. When I thought I was done, I cried some more. Silent tears. My heart hurt. I was such an idiot, falling for him. Taylor was right. Nathan didn't want me. We hadn’t even kissed, and our conversations always ended with me by myself.

  I sat on the bed/mound of blankets on the floor and combed my hair with my fingers. There was no sign of Amalie.

  Nathan marched in and grabbed my wrist.

  “Come with me.”

  I didn't get a chance to argue, and I was entranced by his clean smell. He always smelled so good. I submitted to his pulling me down the hall to another room.

  Bulging bookshelves circled the room, but they were newer and better maintained than the ones we read last night.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He looked back at me, but didn’t respond.

  I tried again.

  “What's wrong??”

  “Nothing,” he answered. He smiled, and then did a sharp double-take. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing,” I responded, smiling tightly.

  “Are you sure?” His concern seemed genuine.

  Maybe he did care, but not the way I wanted him to.

  Sadness swept over me.

  “Yes.”

  He titled his head like I was a science project.

  “You can talk to me,” he said.

  “I know,” Not.

  He raked his fingers through his hair. The muscles in his arm bulged.

  Good grief, man. Put those things away. Geez.

  Tired of being pulled around like a dog on a leash, I stopped walking and pulled back. He was a little surprised.

  “Tell me where we're going.”

  He sighed.

  “Please, just come with me. I have something to show you.”

  I considered arguing, but I was curious?

  “Fine.”

  We walked to the back of the room, and I saw another opening to the right. The Soothsayer stood in the corner, the picture of creepiness, waiting for us.

  I didn’t want to be choked again, so I looked at the floor. I didn’t know how or why I could suddenly enter people’s minds, but I wasn’t going to let it happen with her again. I was ready in case she tried. My grip on my dagger was painful.

  She had a worn, brown and black, leather bound book in one hand. She held it close to her body. I could tell it was important. It must be the book of portals to the Dark World.

  “This is the book you asked for, Nathaniel Deror. Use it at your own risk. I am not responsible for your safety,” the Soothsayer said. Her voice sounded like rusty hinges. She gagged and coughed between each word. “Do you accept responsibility?”

  “I do, Soothsayer.”

  “What of her?”

  “Her has a name,” I interjected.

  Nathan yanked my arm, eyes brimming with agitation.

  “Yes,” I answered. I hated not knowing what I agreed to.

  She handed him the book and walked away. That was painful. Seconds later, she returned, carrying an odd bag. She dropped it at Nathan’s feet.

  “I am no longer indebted to you.”

  Why on earth would she be indebted to Nathan? Bizarro!

  “What's that?”

  “It’s the Crane-Skine Lura of Cumhail,” he answered.

  “You’re kidding.”

  This trip was getting progressively crazier every minute. The Lura of Cumhail held a nearly innumerable cache of weapons for demon hunting. My second year Weapons instructor said it was a myth. He was wrong.

  Go figure. A trend was starting.

  “I am not kidding. This Lura is our best chance of surviving the Dark World.”

  “What about my super-neat ring?” I asked, feigning sarcastic nonchalance.

  “Anna, we don’t know what the ring can and can’t do,” he patronized. “Where did you put it?”

  I pulled the chain from underneath my shirt.

  “Good, have you tried it on?”

  I loved his blasé attitude.

  “No, I have not tried it on.” This wasn’t a ring out of coin machine we were talking about. “Where are the others?”

  Just then, Amalie, Taylor, and Lucas walked in.

  “I told them to meet us here,” explained Nathan.

  This was fabulous. Everyone else was in clean clothes, and knew when we were leaving. My damp hair reminded me of how little information I had. Taylor reminded me of my damp hair by rolling her eyes at me.

  “Hey, sis,” said Amalie.

  “Hey,” I went to her, stepping away from Nathan and Miss Scary Pants. Pulling Amalie into a big hug, I spoke in a hushed voice.

  “We’re almost there. We’ll find Alyosha.”

  I didn’t want to jinx us, but I wanted to reassure her, and honestly, I was surprised we'd made it this far.

  She flashed me a perfect grin more beautiful than a rainbow.

  “Thanks. Thanks for everything. You’re the reason we’re going to find him.” She hugged me again.

  I wished I could’ve made her this happy without taking her to the most dangerous place in the world. I smiled, but I was conflicted. I didn’t want to take my sister into Darkness, but I also wanted her to be happy.

  Everything in me wanted to prevent our departure, but her blindingly bright happiness made things worse. I had to do this for her—to preserve and protect our relationship. Then again, going to hell would make that hard.

  “I love you, Amalie,” I whispered. I felt a tear on my cheek. I was surprised Taylor wasn't mocking us. I opened my eyes, I hadn't realized they were closed, and saw Nathan staring at me, soulful. There was sorrow, but something else was in there. Deeper. I tried to delve, to search, use my super-spidey-skills, but he turned away. I released Amalie and kissed her check.

  “Here we go!” I shifted my attention to Nathan, “So, now what?”

  “Now, we go to the Dark World,” he answered.

  “How do we do that?” I asked, feeling a little stupid.

  “I put the book on the floor, open to the right place, and we each step into the page,” he glanced and around the room at our shifty eyes.

  “It’s that simple?” I was not convinced.

  “What’s the catch Warrior boy?” Taylor asked, resorting to sarcasm. She did have a point; there had to be something else to this.

  “No, it's not that simple,” his tanned arms were crossed on his wide chest that strained his black sweater.

  “You have to envision the Dark World: A place of supreme sadness, hatred, and death. That, and worse."

  “You just described New York City,” Taylor said.

  She was absolutely right. This was a very sketchy plan.

  “How are we all supposed to envision the same place? That seems idealistic and,” she coughed in her palm, “stupid.”

  I almost chuckled, but caught it before it slipped out.

  “Trust me, the page will help. You just have to believ
e there really is a place that atrocious. This will be hardest for you, Amalie, because you are the most innocent.”

  He wasn’t being insulting. He was serious.

  “I am not naive,” Amalie interrupted.

  I smiled. She was.

  Lucas laughed.

  “It’s not a bad thing. You just haven’t seen... or can’t understand... how monstrous the world is. ”

  He wasn’t patronizing. He was trying to explain something you didn’t understand, and couldn't, without experiencing years of pain and turmoil yourself.

  I hoped she would never understand the world the way it really was. If I could, I would shelter her from it for all eternity. That’s what sisters are for, right?

  Taylor stared at Nathan like he just went Marilyn Manson on her. Lucas wore his usual, cocky smirk that I loved. Not.

  “Can you concentrate completely on a single atrocity and maximize it? Think rape, but imagine every detail of it. The screaming, the crying—”

  “How about when my boyfriend was kidnapped?” She wept. My heart ached for her. I wanted to hold her, but she moved while talking. I tried to stop her, but Nathan waved me off. I stepped back.

  Her pain must have been the energy the book used to get her there. She stepped onto the page and was gone. There was no dust, or ripple in the air like I’ve seen in movies. She was just gone. Poof.

  I felt my eyes widen.

  I stepped forward and Nathan grabbed my wrist. I was annoyed.

  “Taylor, then Lucas.” He opened his eyes to me, and I felt desperation behind the order. So, again, I stepped back, but I gave him the dirtiest look I could manage.

  Taylor moved forward and turned back to me.

  “I got it,” she said in a way that was so unlike Taylor. It was the way a soldier addresses a comrade in battle.

  She took foxiness to a whole new level. Her eyes emanated determination that made my heart swell with pride and confusion. This wasn’t the Taylor from school. It was a new Taylor. In a single smooth motion, she faced Lucas, “See you soon, lover.”

  Of course Taylor would have to be dramatic. She stepped onto the page and was gone. Lucas stepped onto the page. Now it was just Nathan and me. Alone.

  “See you soon, I guess,” I shifted under his gaze, uncertain.

  “Yes, you will. Stay put when you get over there. Anna, Amalie will be okay. You’re a great sister.”

  I looked at him and saw love in his eyes. For the first time, I felt truly stupid for doubting that my attraction was unreciprocated. I looked at his full lips and the stubble that lined his tight jaw. The hair was thicker, now making his lips more pronounced, enticing. He seemed to be drinking me in too. His eyes moved down from the top of my head, to my eyes, and finally, to my lips. I froze. He leaned toward me. I could feel the heat of his warm, minty, perfect breath. That was it: he smelled like wintergreen.

  He looked at me like I was the only thing in the world. For that single, eternal moment, it was just Nathan, and me, and the heat radiating between us.

  I wanted to kiss this man while I had the chance, but I didn’t think I was brave enough. I decided to try anyway. I stood on my tippy-toes, making my move. He beat me to it. He came down to me, and our lips connected.

  At first, the kiss was patient. It was exploratory. His tongue roamed mine. There was velvety texture to his lips that felt perfect against my own. I fell into him. Our bodies melted together. Heat exploded through my blood. My heart raced. The sound of blood rushing in my ears sounded like a roaring lion. My emotions were in a frenzy. He pulled me closer, held me tighter.

  I grabbed his dark brown hair, enjoying the length as my fingers curled in his hair, and I pulled him closer to me. I wanted more, I wanted him with every ounce of my being, and he wanted me too. I needed him, I needed his warmth, and I needed to taste everything that was Nathaniel Deror. He had his arms around my waist and pulled my hips into him. Our lips moved with such intensity, I thought we might make love right there. There was a deep, internal fire that welded us together. I didn't want it to stop, ever. We lingered, devouring each another, releasing all our pent up frustration in this moment.

  I surprised myself by pulling away first. I looked into his eyes. I could tell the desire was mutual and identical. That was all I needed.

  “Finally,” I said. It was an extremely random thing to say, but that’s what popped into my head. Finally, we stopped denying our feelings. Finally, we accepted them. We accepted us.

  “Finally?” He asked, mildly amused.

  “See you in the Dark World.” I turned, trying to think of everything horrid as I stepped onto the page. I heard Nathan say my name, but it was too late, I was gone.

  Chapter 20

  I came down lightning fast, and my body came to a screeching halt as it collided with a giant rock. A piercing pain shot through my body, starting in my left arm and culminating in a tearing pain on my left side. I jumped to my feet despite my agony.

  This place was wrong. Everything about it was nefarious, wicked, and evil. Anything and everything I imagined, or could have, didn’t come close to what I saw. I wasn't afraid, only astonished by the supreme otherness.

  The sky was tenebrous. The ground was a landfill of debris and haphazard bonfires that seemed to be living on their last thread as embers under the thick brush glowed like molten lava. They illuminated a paved path. This was an afflicted wasteland. There were deep trenches everywhere. Above the trenches, decorating barbed wire fences like macabre Christmas ornaments were the remains of both demons and humans. There was no grass or flowers, and only dead trees. The ground not dug up was rocks, gravel, and dirt. The Dark World personified carnage.

  I was nearly blinded by dust and smoke. I was coughing and unable to breathe as I inhaled the foreign substances that tainted the air, thick and suffocating. All was stillness. The only sound I heard was in the distance; it was like a grinding, maybe. I couldn’t be sure.

  No demons moved through the area. We must’ve been on the outskirts somewhere. Thank the Powers for that. I pictured a bunch of nasties licking their lips when we popped up like Happy Meals in front of them. It made me shudder.

  Amalie, Taylor, and Lucas stood in front of a towering, black, gothic structure.

  “Hey,” Nathan said, gloomily as he grabbed my shoulder.

  “Hey. That was gracious. I nearly killed myself.” I examined myself.

  “I can see that,” his eyebrows creased with consternation. He pulled some elderberry root from his pocket and applied it to the bloody areas. The feel of his fingers on my skin made me warm. “Anywhere else?”

  “My ribs.” I gathered my shirt under my left breast. He gently rubbed the elderberry root on my ribs. Within seconds, my breathing got easier. The feeling of his skin against mine made my whole body tingle.

  “We should talk,” he suggested.

  “Later. Go see what's wrong with them.”

  They were still as statues.

  “Amalie, what is it?”

  She pointed. I followed her arm. A Cherubim, impaled, face toward the sky, on a stake. His wings were tattered, torn, and limp. My stomach churned at the display of barbarity. My teeth ground together. I wanted nothing more than to behead every demon who had anything to do with this.

  Angels are good, I thought.

  Not only that, but Cherubim weren’t Warriors: They simply delivered messages. The epitome of innocents. And innocence. The overwhelming pain in my heart almost brought me to my knees, but my anger, rage, and empathy empowered me. I vowed to the Godhead, Heaven, and all angels that I would avenge him.

  “Shit! He’s alive,” Taylor screeched. She ran toward him and jumped, but her fingers didn’t even reach his toes. “Help me,” she told us. I snapped out of my shock and ran to them with Nathan, Amalie, and Lucas not far behind.

  “No, angels,” he said, but it sounded gurgled like he was choking on some water or his blood.

  “Let us help you,” Taylor reached again. The g
uys moved around the back and their sad eyes confirmed there wasn’t any hope for the Cherubim.

  I looked into his grey eyes, the whites bloodied. It gave me goose bumps as I traveled inward. I felt his despair and sadness like a chilling vapor coursing through my blood and around my heart.

  It differed from the other times I’d gone into minds. A brightness I’d never seen before blinded me at first. I saw two angels; power emanated off them like a force field, their wings on clear display. They stood talking. They turned toward me, the Cherubim angel. “Go now,” I heard an echo in my mind. I realized they spoke telepathically. “The future of the races depends on this delivery.”

  Then I felt loss of hope and confusion as the scene changed, and the angel stood before a demon, big with inky eyes and black, oily skin with two horns protruding from his head like a bull. The nature of the message must’ve been extreme for a demon like this to come after the elderly messenger. The demon struck the angel at the neck with his large clawed hands and I was pulled back from the vision.

  “He’s gone,” Nathan murmured.

  Amalie vomited. I went to her and held her hair out of the way as her body heaved.

  “What the hell is that?”

  I knew what it was. I didn't expect an answer, but I had to say something.

  “It’s a warning. We're not welcome,” Nathan growled.

  “I'm looking forward to pissing somebody off,” Lucas said darkly. He clearly enunciated “somebody.” He sounded sadistic. Interesting tone.

  “Now what? How are we going to find Alyosha?” I asked, still holding Amalie’s hair out of the vomit.

  It didn’t dawn on me until just then that maybe Alyosha was already dead. I prayed that wasn’t true for Amalie and Nathan.

  “We need transportation. We need horses. We need to get off the street,” Nathan’s voice was unnatural.

  “We’re in a street?” If this was the street, than there was nothing here but gothic buildings with impaled angels. Just the thought made me gag. I had a strong stomach, but there are some things even I couldn't handle.

  “Yes, we’re in the street. Where should we go?” Taylor spoke. Her tone was melancholy.