by Erin Cain
“Kissing my girlfriend,” he answered without hesitation.
“What– girlfriend?” Dylan sounded like he was choking on a drink. “Are you insane?!” He finally managed to get the words out of his mouth.
Grace felt a shiver move through her. Dylan seemed to disgusted and so angry at the idea of Vance being with her. It stung, even if she didn’t quite know why she cared.
Vance shrugged. “That’s doubtful, Dylan. And stop shouting.” He frowned. “There’s no need.”
“No need?” Dylan was seething and he stormed right up to Vance. “You’re dating a Nephilim! Since when was that okay? When did that become normal, Vance?!”
A few bypassers glanced into the alleyway but hurried along when they saw who the fight was between. Grace guessed that no one interrupted a fight between the sons of archangels.
Vance let go of Grace, to position himself in front of her, blocking her from Dylan’s range.
“I don’t remember asking for your opinion, Dylan. I’ve made my decision, so make peace with it.” He glared at Dylan. “I won’t explain myself to you. I don’t need to.”
Grace watched Dylan’s face, the flicker of hurt that rose up in his eyes before he snuffed it out with the flames of his anger.
“You’re choosing her over your own kind,” Dylan hissed.
Vance shook his head. “I’m not choosing her over my own kind. She’s a part of this academy, which makes her one of us. An angel. Whether you like it or not, Dylan.”
Vance straightened up. “Dina let her in. And our fathers did not contest her decision. Or have you forgotten that?”
Dylan flinched back, as if he’d been struck. “That doesn’t… doesn’t make…”
“What? Doesn’t make them right? You’d argue with your father?” Vance almost laughed, shaking his head. “Make peace with it, Dylan. It doesn’t concern you who I’m seeing anyway.”
Dylan balled his hands into fists and for a second, Grace thought that he was going to hit Vance.
“Fine,” he spat out instead. “But don’t call on me if you need backup. You’re no friend of mine. Not anymore.”
Dylan spun on his heels and stormed out of the alleyway, disappearing onto the street and out of sight.
Grace watched his retreating back with a sinking feeling in her chest. She had wondered what Vance’s friends would think about their relationship, but now that was pretty clear to her. She felt uncomfortable, the sick feeling in her stomach eclipsing the relief that she had felt only moments before.
Vance turned to her, a concerned look in his eyes. “Are you alright?”
“Am I alright?” Grace shook her head dismissively. “What about you? Isn’t Dylan one of your best friends?” she asked.
Vance sighed and shrugged. “He was. We’ve known each other since we were children.” He went quiet for a moment. “Dylan can be… stubborn. He doesn’t always see when the waves of change are coming. He is usually unprepared.” Vance sighed again, and Grace’s heart ached.
“It’s okay,” he said after a moment, “I wasn’t about to let him diminish you or our relationship.” He smiled quietly as he looked at her. “He will come around eventually.”
“And… what if he doesn’t?” Grace felt the real worry tug at her heart. “What if he doesn’t change his mind? What about Zane? Everyone else?” she insisted.
Vance seemed to mull it over for a moment. “Zane may… side with Dylan. I’m unsure, but their friendship is strong. As for everyone else…” He shook his head, a small smile playing on his face. “No one else will disagree with me.”
“What?” Grace wasn’t sure she understood.
“There’s some clout… some perks… of being Michael’s son. No one else will argue. Dylan and Zane are about the furthest we’ll get to opposition.”
He took her hand in his own and squeezed gently. “Don’t worry about it, Grace,” he murmured, the soft tone in his voice comforting. “It will work itself out.”
Grace managed a small smile. “Is this you doing your duty again?”
Vance smiled. “And what if it is?”
Grace leaned in and kissed him, chaste and sweet this time. “Then you’re doing a good job.”
“Do you have any more classes today?” Vance asked.
“No… I think I might go back to my dorm… I have an assignment due.”
“Oh… History?” he asked knowingly.
“You too?” She shook her head in sympathy.
“Yes.” He squeezed her hand. “I’ll walk you home.”
“No, no… your dorm is the opposite way.” She shook her head. “Besides, I’ll see you tomorrow in Weapons training.”
“Will you spar with me after class?” he asked with a grin.
“Do I have a choice?” she replied.
Vance hummed in thought and then said, “No, not really.”
Grace laughed and kissed him again. “See you tomorrow, Vance.”
Grace watched Vance walk away towards the male dorms and felt a pang in her chest. Grace couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so conflicted, and she’d been feeling conflicted a lot lately!
Dylan was a close friend to Vance. They had known each other for years and their parents were obviously close. This friendship between them obviously meant a lot to Vance, even if he wasn’t saying. And the hurt had been very clear on Dylan’s face. He had been hurt by Vance’s actions. He clearly saw it as a betrayal.
Sighing, Grace picked up her bag and started the walk to her dorm. Without Vance, she could feel the eyes on her back, the murmurs, and she tried to ignore them. Sure, the murmurs sounded more curious than hateful, ever since the first trial, but she still didn’t like it.
Would Vance be affected like she was? Would he have whispers following him down the street and around campus? It was something that he seemed confident wouldn’t happen, but Grace wasn’t nearly as sure, or as confident as he was.
As she approached her dorm, she couldn’t help the small spike of happiness that pushed its way through her worry.
Because Vance had defended her. To one of his best friends. He wasn’t ashamed of her, or hesitant to introduce her. He hadn’t even taken a second to catch his breath before answering Dylan.
They were official and he had defended her. There was no longer a space for doubt between them. They were official, and he had kissed her out in public, holding her close, staying by her side. He had stood up to Dylan. He had made his position and opinion clear as day. He thought that she belonged here. He considered her to be a part of the academy and the angels within it.
Grace had to cover her mouth with her hand to stop the squeal of happiness at the memory of his words.
If it wasn’t for his argument with Dylan and the worry about their friendship, Grace would be floating on cloud nine by now.
She flung her dorm room door open, shutting it behind her, only to be greeted by a disheveled looking Trish, whose bob was pulled up messily. She jumped up and grabbed Grace before she even had a chance to put down her bag.
“Okay, so how did it go?” she asked. “What did Dina say? Are you staying?”
The real, genuine concern on her roommate’s face made Grace smile, softening some of the inner conflict she was feeling.
She had to tell her about the meeting, the results, and the fact that she was staying. Trish had been worried for days and Grace owed it to her to ease her worry.
She took a deep breath, and blurted out, “Vance and I are dating.”
There was a second of silence.
“What?” Trish squealed, “What do you mean, dating?! What about the meeting?”
“I mean… dating, dating! We’re official. He asked. After the meeting.”
Grace stumbled over her words, feeling giddy and sick and scared and excited all at once. She didn’t know whether she was elated or devastatingly exhausted. Everything was crashing into her and she wasn’t prepared for the emotional onslaught.
“And I’m
staying. I’m staying. I passed the trial.”
Trish grabbed her into a hug and Grace just burst into tears.
Chapter 3
The grass felt soft beneath Grace’s hands. The new timetable was a little crazy and she was still trying to catch her breath. Flight training was first, followed by a brief break, and then it was straight to weapons training, where she’s promised Vance she’d stay late for extra training.
“Guess I’ll sleep well tonight.” She hummed to herself. Ingrid was late, and it gave her a few moments to breathe. Everyone else was sitting on the grass, stretching out and enjoying the sunshine. Well, almost everyone.
Dylan arrived at the same time as everyone else, but something was off about him. It looked like, maybe, he hadn’t slept all that well. There was a redness to his eyes, and Grace just couldn’t picture him crying all night. So, a lack of sleep it was.
He was dressed like usual and Grace was surprised to see that Zane wasn’t with him. In fact, Zane wasn’t in class at all. Grace tried not to think about it too much, tried not to worry too much.
After all, she wasn’t doing anything wrong by being with Vance. She had a right to be at this academy and she had a right to be with Vance, if he wanted it too. And he did.
She looked away, trying not to antagonize Dylan even more. She really didn’t need a confrontation today, didn’t need another instance where he argued with her in the middle of class.
Sighing, Grace glanced up at the sky. She could still remember the first time she had seen Dylan fly. It was the first time she had seen anyone fly. He had manifested his wings like it was the easiest thing in the world, soaring above them all like it was nothing.
It had taken Grace weeks to manifest hers, and she hadn’t tried again, not since the first trial.
Footsteps padded on the soft Grace towards her and Grace glanced up. Ingrid was waving as she approached the class. Grace locked eyes with Dylan for a second, before she quickly looked away and pushed herself to her feet.
“Okay, everyone! Theory-based lesson today. Some practical at the end,” Ingrid said.
The class groaned. As Ingrid passed Grace, she flashed her a smile and a “Well done,” before making her way to the front of the class.
Grace felt the warmth spread within her, reassured by Ingrid’s praise. She really had manifested her wings in the heat of the moment. She was proud of the achievement, even if most other students could do it. She had doubted the existence of her wings, and their manifestation had been a big moment.
The class settled down onto the grass, and Grace plopped back down, turning to face Ingrid at the front of the class. As always, she cut a friendly, but impressive presence. Grace had to admit, though, theory didn’t sound like much fun.
It would probably benefit her, with Weapons training just on the horizon, but she still felt a pang. Sitting through History had been painful lately and this probably wouldn’t be any better.
“Okay, so, does anyone know the three techniques for manifesting your wings?”
A hand shot up in front of Grace and she zoned out while the student answered, sounding earnest and bright. The fog of exhaustion started to creep over Grace like a shroud. Maybe she hadn’t been resting well enough either. She wondered if her eyes were red like Dylan’s.
“Okay. Good. And what about flight techniques? Can anyone name a couple?”
Grace glanced up, a little more interested in this.
A student’s hand went up, a bit more reluctantly than the last, and a voice answered, “Um, well… banking, and swooping and…”
“Treading,” Ingrid finished with a nod. “Yes, correct. These techniques are essential for keeping pace with the air currents around you, avoiding being seen and evading demons who cannot fly.”
She paused to let that sink in, before continuing, “We’re going to review the basics techniques and build upon them, so you’d do well to get out a notebook and pen, maybe your textbook.”
Another collective groan was torn from the class at large and the rustling of backpacks and paper filled the air. Grace grabbed her own notebook, pen, and textbook. Spreading it out on her lap, she started to make notes as Ingrid walked amongst the class.
The time passed quicker than Grace anticipated. While it wasn’t the most riveting information, she certainly found it more useful than history class. She knew history was very important, but the divine law of the class interested her far more.
“Okay, time for a few minutes of practical before we pack up,” Ingrid piped up after almost an hour of the quiet scratching of pens and murmuring of students.
Everyone packed away in a rush and Grace pushed herself to her feet. She glanced over, unable to help her eyes from straying towards Dylan. He still looked agitated and Grace quickly looked away.
“Okay. Nothing fancy. Manifest your wings using the three core principles. Then I want you to do some treading, before lowering back down. Today is all about control, which we’ll be practicing again next lesson.”
Grace took a deep breath, nodding to herself as she tried to focus on the feelings that had surged inside her at the trial.
It had been intense. Grace had felt something burning within her. She had felt something twist inside her, an energy that radiated from her very core, pressing against her back. For a second, just a split second, she had felt the intensity of her emotions threaten to overcome her.
She had let her emotions sweep her up and carry her through, push against her skin until she felt a strong sense of relief. When she opened her eyes, Chemosh had been pushed several feet away from her and she felt like she was back in control of her body.
“It all happened so fast,” she murmured to herself.
The feelings had been so intense at the trial. It felt impossible to revisit them now.
“Okay, take it easy,” Grace murmured to herself, stretching her shoulders and taking a deep breath. She shook out the stress as a few people lifted into the air, bright wings shining all around her.
A tinge of annoyance flooded her and she let out a deep breath. She needed to keep it together, to stay cool, calm, and collected if she wanted to succeed in this. There was no point feeling stressed and jealous.
She had manifested her wings before. She just needed to practice tapping into them when she wasn’t under stress and pressure. She had to learn to harness that light, that emotion, in a different way, in a more consistent way.
That was okay. It would probably take practice, but it was definitely doable. After all, thanks to her background as a dancer, Grace was good at practice.
Ten minutes later, everyone was landing and Grace was still trying to manifest her wings. She glanced around and saw she wasn’t the only one on the ground, which was reassuring.
As class ended and everyone else filed out, Grace didn’t move from her spot. She had at least half an hour before her next class and nowhere to be, so the best thing to do was to keep practicing.
She could feel it inside her, the ball of light that pressed against her back, threatening to burst free at any moment. However, that final catalyst seemed just out of her reach and it was exhilarating and frustrating at the same time.
On one hand, she was making progress. On the other hand, she couldn’t flick the switch at will yet, which was a frustration.
If she could just spend a few more minutes, she was sure that she could crack it. She closed her eyes and focused on the sensation burning within her.
It wasn’t until she heard a loud, “Damn!” that she opened her eyes.
Dylan was still there, standing a little way away. He wasn’t paying any attention to her, and he seemed to be focusing on his wings, on manifesting them and flying.
But Dylan, the guy who had first manifested them like it didn’t take a shred of effort, the son of an Archangel, with perfect control, couldn’t seem to manifest them today.
There were beads of sweat on his brow and he was breathing heavily. He squeezed his eyes shut and Grace saw t
he pulsing of light around him. The light didn’t quite take shape.
Dylan swore and threw off his jacket, dropping it to the ground and trying again.
Grace took a step forward, feeling a surge of concern, but she held herself back. Dylan wouldn’t want her help, so it was best if she kept her distance. Still, her focus was completely shattered and all she could concentrate on was Dylan, watching him as he flexed his back, trying to manifest his wings, the frustration clear on his face.
Then the pulsing light started to take form, creating the outline of glowing wings. Triumphant, Dylan didn’t wait for them to take a more solid form.
He opened them wide, and pushed himself into the air on the current and strength, moving up and up and up. He wasn’t treading like he was supposed to do. Instead, he was rising upwards, higher and higher into the sky, like he had something to prove.
“Dylan…” Grace whispered, something tugging at her heart.
He seemed so stressed. He couldn’t even manifest his wings properly, and now that he had, he was taking himself dangerously high. Angel or not, a fall from that height would be deadly.
Grace glanced around her, but everyone else had long since left, even Ingrid.
Squinting against the light, Grace looked up. She couldn’t hear was Dylan was saying, but his wings were looking less and less solid by the minute.
There was a flash of panic on his face, before his wings gave out, leaving nothing but a shadow of light, incorporeal and useless for flight.
Then Dylan was falling, plummeting through the air at a high speed.
And suddenly, the danger was all too real.
Grace leaped forward, her own wings springing from her back, the catalyst – the trigger of true danger – throwing her wings into the real world, lighting up the space around her as she pushed off from the ground, flapping them hard, instinct taking over.
She sped towards Dylan’s falling form, coming up to meet him. He was falling so fast. He’d been so high up. Dylan’s blond hair whipped around his face as he fell, nothing to stop his fall. Nothing but Grace.
She was almost there. Almost in range.