by Leia Stone
Leaping into the road, I did the first thing I could think of—I chucked my coffee cup, and watched in delight as it crashed into the back window of Lincoln’s SUV, the brake lights glowing an angry red. I then walked calmly to the passenger door and jerked it open, coming face-to-face with the Celestial.
Lincoln was annoyingly gorgeous. Even now, as he glared at me with those piercing blue eyes and pursed lips, I couldn’t deny that he was extremely attractive. That didn’t stop me from giving him a piece of my mind.
“Listen, buddy, I had the worst night of my life yesterday, I’m still recovering from a Cloud Nine Donuts hangover, and I just wasted a perfectly good cup of coffee, so you need to chill out.”
The corner of his lips twitched but he remained stoic. “You listen, princess. Every minute I stay in Demon City feels like a thousand knives are tearing into my back, so get in the car or go home.”
Asshole. I reeled back in shock. Now that he mentioned it, he did look like he was in pain. I thought it was just anger at me. I guess they don’t go up in flames, they just feel like crap.
“I can’t fit in there with my wings,” I told him, crossing my arms and staring at the tiny hole he expected me to crawl into.
He rolled his eyes and leaned forward, reaching out to me. I flinched and his face softened. “I need to touch them.”
Oh. I leaned into the car and his right hand tenderly stroked the top of my left wing, sending chills down my arms. With a quick, sharp pain at my back, they were gone. Just like that.
“Now, get in,” he ordered.
And we’re back to Captain Asshole.
I climbed into the car and fastened my seat belt. “You owe me coffee.”
He just gave me a side glance, but didn’t say a word.
The car was brand new, literally still had the sticker on the side of the window. “Nice ride,” I admired.
“I’m glad you like it, because I can’t come pick you up every day. Being in this cesspool is too painful. The car is yours to use during the course of your studies. Compliments of Fallen Academy,” he told me nonchalantly.
My mouth popped open. “Say what?” The course of my training was four years.
“So technically you just threw coffee at your own car.” He smiled smugly as he turned onto the 105, which would take us into Angel City.
Jerk. He was just like the rest of them, always judging. Judging my mom for taking the slave mark, judging me for crossing over the line yesterday. I crossed my arms and decided to ignore him the rest of the way.
Ignoring my stomach growling and the lack of coffee in my system proved harder than anything.
As Angel City came into view, I found myself pondering why he’d been sent to retrieve me anyway. Was he going to be my new trainer? He was a baby. I was sure there were other Celestials who were more qualified to train me than someone with four years of experience.
“Why exactly are you my trainer?” I asked, as the car slowed at the border crossing. One look at Lincoln and the guard waved us through. The second our car crossed over, I saw some of the agitation leave Lincoln’s face, but not much.
He gave me a side glance. “I’m the only one who offered.”
I scowled. “Bullshit.”
He chuckled. “You think everyone was jumping at the chance to train a dark Celestial?”
My skin prickled at those words. “Is that what they’re calling me?”
He shrugged. “And worse.”
I stared out the window, an instant depression settling over me. My body felt heavy, numb. “What’s worse than a dark Celestial?” Dark meant evil. Basically they thought I was a flying demon.
Lincoln hesitated, as if he wanted to protect me from hearing the worst.
“Oh please. Don’t suddenly become a nice guy,” I told him, and he bristled.
“Fine. I overheard some at Fallen Academy saying you could be some kind of archdemon.”
My legs turned to Jell-O with fear. “Archdemon? What’s that?”
He took the next freeway exit and my old neighborhood came into view. The happy flower plants that hung over the balconies reminded me of better times.
Fallen Academy was in the beautiful city of Santa Monica, minutes from the beach. It used to be a Catholic school that they built onto across from a beautiful park. As a kid, I dreamed of going there one day.
I guess I got my wish.
“I don’t know,” Lincoln said honestly, “but they’re hoping they’re wrong, or that they can at least train you to be good.”
Of all the things that’d been said, that one stung. “I’m not bad! Just because of my mother’s choice, I’m suddenly the harbinger of evil?”
Lincoln ignored me and turned down a side road that led to the gates of Fallen Academy. The entire school grounds were enclosed by fifteen-foot-high stone walls.
I wasn’t letting him get off that easily.
“I’m not a bad person. My mom isn’t a bad person. We just work for bad people.” Right? My moral lines had blurred since I’d moved into Demon City to save my father’s life.
Lincoln pulled up to the guard gate, and once again they let him through after one look at him. As the gates opened, I sucked in a breath at the sight. I’d never been inside, only seen pictures. The well-manicured grounds and stone buildings had that regal old-world feel. It was breathtaking.
Turning to face me, Lincoln peered into my eyes. “You were given a choice, and you chose to take the mark. To work for everything that’s bad in this world.”
So yesterday was a choice? If I hadn’t crossed that line, Raphael would’ve somehow annulled my demon contract? My mother would’ve been slaughtered.
My mouth opened, aghast. “Weren’t you there? They were going to kill my mother!”
He shrugged, pulling up to the curb in front of the main office. “War has casualties.”
Then he opened the car door and jumped out, slamming it in my face.
Supreme asshole of the year!
I stared at my bagel-less and coffee-less hands as rage boiled within me. I wouldn’t last four years with this guy. I wouldn’t last another hour. I gave myself five minutes alone in the car, practicing the calm breathing techniques my little brother had taught me. When I was ready, I exited the vehicle, and went into the door that Lincoln had gone through.
The second I opened it, a blinding white light filled the space, and I found myself struggling to cover my eyes. Hushed voices cut off the moment I walked in, and the light dimmed to a more manageable level. When my eyes focused on what was before me, I nearly fell to my knees in awe.
“Oh. I thought I was just picking up my schedule,” I explained nervously. Lincoln let me keep four archangels waiting. I would kill him.
“That’s okay, Brielle. Please come join us,” Raphael offered, waving me over to where they stood in a large office.
I surveyed the angels before me. I knew the one with the sword was Michael, but I didn’t recognize the other two. Either way, I was scared shitless. Were they going to hurt me? Expunge the evil out of me?
“No one is going to hurt you, dear,” an angel who stood over seven feet tall with long blond hair stated.
Oh my God. Mind readers. I was so screwed.
I cleared my throat and stepped into the expansive office. Michael was leaning against a bookcase, watching me keenly, his sword hung from his waist.
Lincoln was standing in the corner, arms crossed and scowling at me. “Raph isn’t sure which one of them has endowed you with their gifts, so there will need to be a little ceremony before you can get your tattoo of light,” he explained from where he rested.
Ceremony? Tattoo? I realized then that I knew nothing about this life. These people. I’d been surrounded by demons for the entirety of my teen years, and the Celestials were too rare for me to know anything but rumor. I must’ve looked panicked, because the archangel with the long blond hair stepped closer to me. His wings were massive and hard to look at for too long.
&
nbsp; “I’m Gabriel.” He gestured to a dark brown-haired angel, standing in front of the fireplace. “That’s Uriel. You’ve met Raphael, and I’m sure you know Michael since he’s the famous one.” He grinned.
“Jealous of the stories, my brother?” Michael joked, beaming.
Oh. My. God. They were so… normal.
“Hey… I’m Brielle.” I waved nervously. Why is Lincoln still scowling at me? Can’t he just leave?
Raphael stood from his seat behind the desk. “I’ve taken the responsibility of teaching the angel blessed, and standing as guardian over this school, but Michael, Gabriel, and Uriel do not often visit unless it’s a special circumstance. They’re needed elsewhere, tending to the war.”
Oh shit. Am I the special circumstance? My stomach knotted. I just cussed inside my head. I hope he didn’t hear that!
Raphael’s lips curled into a smile. “Normally we would have your Choosing ceremony publicly, but under the circumstances”—he gestured to my back, where my wings would’ve been had they been out—“we thought keeping it private was best.”
I swallowed. I had no freaking clue what a Choosing ceremony was, so I just nodded. “I prefer privacy when at all possible.” Especially when it came to being the only freak with black wings.
Raphael nodded. “Good. If you’ll step forward and produce your wrist, I’ll get it over with quickly.” He opened the snaps of a case on his desk and flipped the lid back, revealing a golden dagger with engravings.
My eyes bugged out and I backed up. “Wait, what?”
“You frightened her,” Michael said, sounding annoyed with Raphael.
Raphael frowned. “That was not my intention.”
“May I?” Lincoln offered. “You have to explain things in detail with humans. They don’t trust unconditionally like you all do.” He stepped from the corner to approach me.
Did he just tell a room full of archangels that I didn’t trust them?
Murder. Dead.
Raphael’s brow knotted.
Shit. Kidding. Happiness and rainbows.
Now he was trying to hold in a laugh. Frick, they could totally read my mind.
“Brielle,” Lincoln said, pulling my attention to him. He rolled up his sleeves, showcasing two tattoos, one on each forearm. One was a magnificent sword, a brilliant blue. The other was a pair of cupped hands glowing an orangish yellow. “When I found out I was a Celestial, Raphael made a small cut on my wrist. Two symbols on the knife glowed, indicating I had powers from both Michael and Raphael. Then I got these tattoos to ignite their individual powers within me.”
Oh. So that’s the Choosing ceremony.
“Okay.” I shrugged.
Lincoln nodded and then stepped back into the corner of the room, taking his warmth with him, and leaving me suddenly alone.
“Now that we’ve awakened your powers, you’ll need the tattoo of light to help harness the angel light that lives within you,” Michael stated. “That’s what this ceremony does. Without it, you would… experience discomfort as your powers emerged. Your tattoos will help you harness the archangel’s power you possess, without harming your human body.”
Oh. Wow. I hadn’t even thought about what powers I might have, beyond that of my freakish black wings and flying. I missed Shea right then. She was the strong one who would stick her wrist out and say “Let’s get this over with!”
I decided to channel her before I lost my nerve, stepping forward, and holding out my wrist to Raphael. “Will that thing show if I’m an archdemon?” I blurted out.
So much for being brave.
Raphael looked shocked. “Who told you that you might be an archdemon?”
I tried to clear my thoughts but I was too nervous. Lincoln popped into my head, and Raphael turned over his shoulder, pinning Lincoln to the wall with his gaze.
Lincoln squirmed. “I merely repeated a rumor.”
Michael stood taller. “I’ve seen rumors start wars.”
Lincoln stared at his own feet.
Shit, I got him in trouble. He’s going to hate me more than he already does.
“Brielle, let me tell you something.” Raphael cupped my hand, and warmth went through my arm. “No one, and I mean no one, is born evil. Even those who turn down the wrong path can always come back from it. No matter what.”
I swallowed hard, and my eyes flicked to Lincoln, who was still staring at his shoes. It wasn’t lost on me that he’d not answered my question about being an archdemon.
“Ready?” Raphael asked.
The moment my head bobbed in consent, the blade licked across my skin. I hissed as he squeezed a few droplets onto the hilt and then released my hand.
“Sorry, child.”
Lincoln was suddenly there, reaching for my arm. “Would you like me to heal it?”
He could do that? Of course he could; he was some hybrid healer-warrior poster child.
“I’m fine,” I told him, putting pressure on the cut with my other hand.
Lincoln frowned. “Come on, just let me heal it. You don’t have to be so stubborn about it.”
I glared at him, giving him my best ‘I will cut you’ look.
“Free will. She said no,” Michael reminded Lincoln.
Lincoln grumbled something under his breath, and walked away.
The other three archangels started to come forward then, pressing their collective power in on me. It felt like the air had charged with static electricity. The dagger was doing a crazy glowy thing.
Peeking forward, I saw a sword symbol light up. “Ahh, lovely. Michael, she’s one of yours,” Raphael said enthusiastically.
A thrill of excitement went through me and I looked over at the archangel with the powerful muscles and sword. Michael grinned, but then his face morphed into a mask of confusion. I followed his gaze just as another symbol lit up, glowing hands. That was the same symbol on Lincoln’s arm, Raphael’s. I was a dual Celestial hybrid like Lincoln?
I was about to say something when another symbol lit up, a pen, and another, a flame. Finally a fifth one began to light up, but Raphael covered the dagger with his palm, and shoved it back in the case before I could see what it was. His expression was complete and utter shock, but there was something else there.
Fear.
What on Earth would be so bad that it would scare an archangel?
“She is blessed by all of us,” he declared in a haunting tone.
The room started to sway. I didn’t know if it was from standing too close to the archangels, or finding out I had all of their powers, but it was too much.
I started falling backward and the blackness took me.
Chapter Four
The first thing that came back to me was sound. I could hear hushed voices talking over me.
“Do you think she’s the one from the prophecy?” I recognized Michael’s voice.
“I don’t know, but I do know she’s an innocent child in all of this, and we should do our best to protect and guide her.” That one was Raphael.
“Of course!” Michael sounded offended. “I’ll try to get word to Metatron, see if he can share any insight.”
Raphael sighed again, longer and deeper that time. “Do not bring our brothers into this. Metatron has firmly taken his side. We’ll deal with it.”
“She’s awake,” Gabriel said, and my eyes snapped open.
What the hell had they been talking about? I didn’t want to know, but the reason for my fainting had all come back to me. I moaned and sat up, feeling dizzy.
“Brielle, are you feeling all right?” Raphael swam into view.
I nodded. “I guess.”
“Of course she’s not all right. She’s scared.” Michael looked concerned.
I straightened my shoulders. “I’m fine.”
Michael grinned. “That’s my bravery.” He winked.
I blushed.
Raphael rolled his eyes. “Let’s not start taking credit for everything she does. Brielle, you have to be back in De
mon City in five hours, but it’ll take that long to get your tattoos of light. Are you okay with proceeding?”
Ever since I’d seen all those symbols light up, something wild had unleashed within me. I figured it was my power, and it frightened me. If the tattoos would help contain that, harness them, or whatever, I wanted them sooner rather than later.
“I’m ready.” I stood, hands fisted at my side.
Michael was staring behind me, looking sad and longing at the same time. I spun around, expecting to see Lincoln, but he was nowhere in sight. Instead, I saw my wings. They must have come out as some defense mechanism.
I shifted uncomfortably.
The Archangel of Protection and Strength stepped forward, and placed a strong hand on my shoulder. “It was admirable what you did for your mother.” His eyes rested on the crescent moon tattoo on my forehead. “Not a wise choice, but admirable.”
That close to him, I could feel his power pressing in on me like a heavy blanket. He must’ve sensed it, because the moment I thought it, he pulled his hand back and stepped away, walking over to the desk where Raphael had four golden goblets set out.
I frowned, stepping closer. “You guys drink? I had no idea.” Maybe we were going to toast before getting my tattoo. This school already seemed more relaxed than what I’d heard.
“Blood of my blood,” Raphael said, and slashed the golden dagger across his wrist.
My hand flew to my throat as the goblet filled with the thick crimson fluid.
“Blood of my blood,” Michael stated and took the dagger from Raphael, doing the same thing.
I started to back up, fully intent on running the hell out of there and never coming back, but on my third step, I slammed into a warm, hard body that smelled familiar.
Strong hands came around my arms and spun me, and I came face-to-face with Lincoln. “You okay?” His voice held genuine concern, which shocked me.
“B-b-b-blood.” There was no way I was drinking angel blood. No. Way.
He peered past me and dawning shone on his face. “Raphael, you have to explain things, remember?” he scolded the archangel.
A human scolding an angel like a friend. What an odd thing to witness.