Fallen Academy: Year One

by Leia Stone

  “How are you feeling, dear?” she asked, setting the basket down and setting the crutches at the end of my bed. I recognized the Raphael tattoo on her forearm.

  “A little sore, but I’m okay.”

  She nodded. “I’m Mrs. Greely. I’m in charge of the healing clinic here at the academy. Raphael tells me you’re looking for some part-time work? I’d love to hire you.”

  I nodded. “Yes, ma’am. That would be wonderful.”

  She smiled and handed me a packet. “Fill this out and bring it by tomorrow. Then we can go over the schedule.”

  I grabbed the packet, clutching it to my chest. “I will.” I’d traded up, from washing dead bodies at the reanimation clinic, to this.

  “You girls are free to leave. Housekeeping is putting linens on your beds. Here’s a map with your room designation. Come back if you feel any worsening pain, and take anything you like from the lost and found.” She indicated the basket of clothes she’d set down.

  I nodded. “We will. Thank you so much.”

  She smiled and then left the room quietly.

  Shea glanced at the map. “Dude, this place is huge. Way bigger than Tainted Academy.”

  I still couldn’t believe I’d gotten her out of there. That I was out of there. I rubbed my forehead in disbelief at the slave mark being gone.

  Swinging my leg gently over the bed, I gestured to the pile. “Help me find some clothes.” There was no way I could put that torn and bloody jumpsuit back on.

  Shea rummaged through, and found a pair of large smelly sweat pants, and a too-tight tank top. After I shimmied into them, we both looked at my clothes and burst out laughing. “It’s going to be a rough two weeks until we get paid,” Shea admitted, once she’d calmed a bit.

  I winced. “Maybe my mom can send Mikey with some underwear.”

  Shea nodded, hopeful. “Please God, yes. I don’t want to free-ball it unless I absolutely have to.”

  After we filled the backpack with a water bottle, headphones, a hoodie, two gym shirts and an umbrella, we checked out of the clinic, and searched the grounds for our room. We quickly got lost and realized Shea had been reading the map upside down.

  Once I took over, we found Bright Hall. The common room was bustling with students, the female-only Bright Hall sharing the room with the all-male Stone Hall. I was thrilled when I saw Luke and Angela, introducing Shea before giving them a brief rundown of what had happened. After their shock subsided, they were super enthusiastic that we’d both be attending the academy full-time.

  “Oh my God, girl, now I have someone to freak out over the gauntlet with,” Luke squealed.

  “The gauntlet?” Shea asked warily.

  Angela leaned in. “It’s the end-of-year test to graduate you,” she whispered. “If you fail, you go home, and good luck getting a magical job. You’ll end up with some shitty human job, maybe private security for a rich human family. If you pass, you’re admitted into the second year here.”

  My eyes widened. I’d imagined a written test, maybe a few sword moves, but the gauntlet? “Well, you’re a third year. Can you tell us how hard it was?”

  She shook her head. “We’ve all been spelled not to. But trust me, you’ll need every advantage you can get, so study hard. That’s all I can say.”

  The lights suddenly flickered, and we were told we needed to go to our rooms for lights out. Once we bid Angela and Luke good night, we made our way down the hall to room 11.

  Leaning against the doorframe was Tiffany.

  When her eyes landed on me, they narrowed, jumping from my outfit to Shea’s death mark, and then to my crutches. Finally they rested on my forehead.

  “What happened to your slave mark, Archie?” she crooned, still blocking our door.

  I glanced at Shea, who looked absolutely feral, then shrugged. “It must’ve rubbed off on Lincoln’s chest while we were in the back of my car.”

  Her whole face flared red, anger boiling out of every pore. “Enjoy the room. It used to be mine, and now I have to share.” She blasted past me, knocking into my shoulder.

  Pain shot up from my tailbone at the jostling.

  “I can make her hair fall out. I learned how at Tainted Academy,” Shea growled.

  I waved my hand. “She’s not worth it. She’s obsessed with Lincoln, so I’m pretty sure I just ruined her night.”

  Shea grinned. “That was a really good line, I must say.”

  With a laugh, I opened the door. The room was small but cozy and clean. It had a window in the middle of the back wall, and a twin bed with drawers underneath on each side of the space. Typical dorm style. There was shelving high above the beds, about two feet from the ceiling, that wrapped around the room, containing books and other magical items. I spotted jars of weird-looking things, like frog legs on Shea’s side, and on mine were books on the angelic realm and other Celestial-related things.

  “Whoa. At Tainted we had to pay for all our books.” She stepped up on the powder-blue bedspread and started rummaging through the volumes. At the end of each bed was a desk, and mine held a new class schedule.

  “Hey, we got new schedules. Check yours,” I told her.

  When my eyes fell on my new start time of 8:00 a.m., I nearly wept. Reading more, I started to laugh. Lincoln had clearly made my schedule.

  Brielle Atwater

  Fallen History 8 a.m.-9 a.m. (Room 506, Mrs. Delacourt)

  You may retrieve your dagger from Lincoln’s trailer at 9:01 a.m.

  Battle Class 9:05 a.m.-10 a.m. (Room 511, Master Bradstone)

  Weapons 10:05 a.m.-11 a.m. (Room 405, Mr. Claymore)

  Lunch 11:05 a.m.-11:55 a.m. (Dining hall)

  Celestial Master Studies 12 p.m.-2 p.m., 30 mins each master teacher. (Training Hall 304)

  Studies of Light 2:05 p.m.-3 p.m. (Room 401, Mr. Rinecor)

  3:01 PM RETURN YOUR DAGGER TO LINCOLN’S TRAILER OR ELSE.

  He was so grumpy.

  After comparing our schedules, I was sad to see I only had two classes with Shea, battle class and weapons, but it was getting late, and I felt like I’d been hit by a truck. Pulling my dead phone out of my messenger bag I groaned, it was useless without the charger that was right next to my bed back home. I’d have to borrow someone’s phone tomorrow and call my mom, make sure she and Mikey were okay, and that she would continue to take care of Bernie and Maximus without me there.

  I didn’t bother showering, just crawled into bed. “I’m glad we’re in this together,” I mumbled to Shea.

  She peered at me. “Me too. And if you want blondie’s hair to fall out, just say the word.”

  I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

  Chapter Eleven

  Shea and I were relieved to hear that three meals and two snacks a day were included in the free tuition here, so it looked like we just needed to earn enough money to pay for personal items.

  I was so nervous to see Lincoln after everything that had happened, that I nearly threw up that morning during breakfast. I’d eaten two bites of my oatmeal, and then my stomach threatened to upheave it, so I pushed it away. I’d awoken to find that I no longer needed my crutches, and other than some slight throbbing pain when I walked and itching around my stiches, I was healed. It would take a while to get used to that.

  Shea said she wasn’t nervous, but I knew she was. We’d both gone to the seamstress to get new jumpsuits early that morning, but Rose didn’t have any more long-sleeved ones. That meant Shea’s Death Mark was on full display.

  “It’ll be gone in a few days,” I reminded her.

  She just nodded, keeping her arm tucked across her chest. When the bell sounded, both of us jumped a little.

  “Okay… I’ll see you in battle class,” I told her.

  She nodded again.

  I sat through history trying not to doze off. Everyone had heard the story. Lucifer rose from Hell to wreak havoc on Earth, a war broke out in Heaven, the archangels fell to fight Lucifer, yada yada. Then we all got powers,
and now we were screwed. But when Professor Delacourt, a centaur, started talking about Raphael, my attention snapped back to the lesson.

  “Lucifer unleashed his creatures onto the Earth, intending to build a bridge to the angelic realms so they could climb, and then wipe out all of the Creator’s most blessed creatures. But it was Raphael who decided to lead the fight and come to Earth, meeting them head on before they could go through with their plan, and kill the angels.”

  They didn’t teach that in Demon City.

  She continued pointing to a poster with drawings of the different angels in a form of hierarchy. “Up here at the very top we have the Seraphim, the guardians of the Creator’s throne.”

  I was practically hanging off my seat with interest now. The Seraphim were who was rumored to have made my dagger.

  “Then the Cherubim, angels of harmony and wisdom. The Thrones, angels of will and justice. The Dominions, who are the angels of intuition and guide the lower angels on their paths.”

  Her hand lifted, pointing to a picture of an angel holding a scale. “The Virtues, angels of choice. The Powers, who are my personal favorite,” she crooned. “They’re the warrior angels.”

  Whoa. I had no idea there were so many kinds. I raised my hand and she pointed to me. “Brielle?”

  “So, is Michael a warrior angel?”

  She shook her head. “He is one of the lowest, and yet most noble angels. An archangel, which are the protectors of mankind.”

  I didn’t know why I was emotional over her words, but I was. A war broke out and the lowest rung of angels, the archangels, left the realm and fell to help humanity?

  “Why didn’t The Powers or whatever do anything?” I asked.

  She sighed. “I don’t know, but a war broke out in the angelic realm over it. There are a lot of rules, and Raphael and the other archangels broke some of them to come here.”

  They broke the rules. Whoa. Did they get in trouble? Before I could ask, the bell rang.

  I had four minutes to get to Lincoln’s trailer and retrieve Sera, then go to battle class.

  Snatching my bag, I took off, limping through the quad. I still had stiches in my thigh, so I had to be careful. The angelic healing had worked wonders, but a little bit of man’s medicine was needed as well. I tore across the parking lot as quickly as I could, and hobbled up the steps to his trailer. Whipping out my key, I thrust it into the lock, and flung the door open.

  Lincoln was sitting at the dining room table, eating scrambled eggs, and an apple. My dagger was on the bench next to him.

  “Geez! Do you have to bust in here like a cop? Feel free to knock next time, and see if I’m home,” he groaned.

  I was panting like a wild animal, my mouth dry from breathing openmouthed on my way here. I hadn’t expected Lincoln to be there. I didn’t know what to say to him. He was acting totally normal, like we hadn’t almost died together. Like I hadn’t called him hot.

  “I didn’t think you’d be home,” I said between gasps.

  He nodded. “Took the day off to finish healing.”

  Healing. He was hurt.

  I swallowed hard, trying to find saliva so I didn’t look like a horse with my lips stuck to my teeth. “Hey, about yesterday… thank you so much for what you did.”

  He nodded. “And?” He pinned me with a blue-eyed glare.

  A frown scrunched my brows. “And… I’m sorry?” I winced.

  “And.” He added with a nod.

  I growled. “I’m sorry I almost got us killed, but Shea’s my family! I couldn’t leave her.”

  “And?” His eyes opened like a crazy person.

  I crossed my arms. “And what?” The asshat was going to make me late.

  “And you will never, ever do anything like that again.” His hands balled to fists.

  I rolled my eyes. “Obviously. I’m not that stupid.” Of course I wasn’t going to make a habit out of fighting higher-level demons, and almost dying.

  He grinned. “Are you sure?”

  I stepped forward, snatching the dagger off the seat with one hand, and his apple with the other, taking a bite to wet my mouth. “Later.” I slammed the apple down on the table, sans one bite, and left.

  Lincoln Grey lit a fire within me. I wasn’t sure if it was a good one or a bad one, but I was engulfed in the heat nonetheless.

  The rest of the week passed rather quickly.

  Shea had her death mark removed, but not before everyone saw it. Tiffany was now referring to us as Archie and Darky respectively. Being that Shea was a woman of color, she didn’t take too well to the nickname, and had ‘accidentally’ tripped in the lunchroom and spilled scalding-hot soup all over Tiffany’s chest. It was the highlight of my week. Shea would normally have rearranged her face, but we had a good thing going at the school, so she wasn’t going to mess it up, and get kicked out over name-calling. At least not yet. Tiffany hadn’t called her Darky since then, so I think it worked.

  Mikey had dropped off two huge duffel bags of our stuff, including homemade cookies, and a sweet note from my mom. Now that I had my phone charger, I was able to call and text her. Her new boss was Grim, the demon I’d almost killed to free Shea. Whoops. He and Master Burdock had an agreement that if he was killed, Master Grim would inherit his clinic and contracts. I guess because Lincoln had cut off Burdock’s horns, he couldn’t be reanimated. Thank God for that. My mom mentioned that Master Grim was so busy with his strip clubs, that he let her run the clinic, so she was actually alone most of the time there, and happier for it.

  “Dude, when was the last time we went to a club?” Shea asked, eyeing the flyer for Chloe’s birthday party at her dad’s club that night.

  “Like a year,” I told her, rummaging through my clothes. “God, Mikey and my mom packed all practical clothes. Nothing cute,” I griped.

  Angela and Luke were in our room. Luke was doing Angela’s makeup, carefully applying black thick winged eyeliner. He paused from reaching for her false eyelashes and she nodded at me. “You guys can raid my closet. You’re a bit taller, Bri, but otherwise we’re about the same size.”

  Shea and I shared a conspiratorial look.

  “You sure?” Shea asked.

  She’d spent like six hours after class the night before, rolling her curly hair into twists, then slept on a silk pillowcase. Now the curls hung chin high, like perfect little wrapped locks. She was clearly more excited for the party than I was. She’d met my Celestial master teachers, and was crushing on Noah hard.

  I’d started work at the healing clinic, where Mrs. Greely informed me that Noah was in charge, second to her, and assured me my healing lessons would start there with the smaller cases. Other than hovering, doing basic karate and blocking, I hadn’t learned to do any of my Celestial magic yet.

  “I’m sure. I have a hot red silk jumper that would look great with your skin tone, Shea,” Angela encouraged.

  You didn’t have to tell us twice. We tore down the hall laughing, then spent the next thirty minutes making a mess of her closet. Shea had indeed decided on the red jumper. The pants were straight-legged and tight in the butt while the top was sleeveless. We’d have to duct-tape Shea’s big boobs because apparently my mom didn’t think a strapless bra was a necessity.

  After much deliberating, I’d decided on royal blue silk shorts with a lace hem, and a black silk corset top. It was more revealing than I normally wore, but Shea assured me I looked totally boneable—her words, not mine. Considering I’d only ‘boned’ one guy, and it was the most awkward thirty seconds of my life—thank you, junior prom—I wasn’t looking to do so with anyone that night.

  Shea had picked her infinity weapon in class, a small fist-size circular blade that you could grasp like wolverine claws. She tucked that blade into her purse now. Even Angela was bringing a weapon.

  “Should I get Sera?” I asked them.

  Angela nodded. “We’re Fallen Academy students in the middle of a war. It’s rare, but attacks inside Angel City do happ
en.”

  I wondered if Lincoln was home. I was wearing my trusty boots, so I could just slip it inside, and no one would know.

  Lincoln hadn’t said anything about taking my car back now that I lived in Angel City, so I was just going to keep driving it until he did. I pulled off my key, and handed it to Angela. “Meet you in my car in five,” I told her, then took off running with Lincoln’s trailer key in my hand.

  He had been very short and businesslike in our time together during trainings, only showing up for his thirty-minute slot, and keeping the social talk to a minimum unless he was making fun of me, at which time he proceeded to talk to no end. I had no idea what he did at nine thirty on a Friday night, but I was hoping he wasn’t home, so I wouldn’t have to deal with that twice in one day.

  As I jogged across the parking lot, I saw the lights were on in the trailer, but his motorcycle was gone.

  Hmm….

  Jumping up the first few steps, I knocked hard. If he answered, I would just play dumb, and tell him I was coming to ‘ask permission’ to take my dagger to a club. Said club could get dangerous, etc.

  I stood there an entire minute and knocked again.

  Nothing.

  Using my key, I popped open the door and crept inside, feeling like a burglar as I looked left and right. No one home. Whew. I shut the door behind me, and tiptoed across the space to grab the dagger that sat atop the kitchen table where I’d left it that afternoon.

  Just as I was spinning to leave, the bathroom door popped open and Lincoln stepped out, dripping wet, waist covered in a towel.

  Good Lord, what a body. I froze with my mouth open, just staring at his chiseled chest. When a bead of water dripped from his neck and down his six-pack into his V—oh God, he has a V—I exhaled louder than I should have. Okay, I moaned. I freaking moaned.

  Kill me now.

  “Brielle!” His eyes roamed across my bare shoulders, down my exposed legs, and then back up to my face.

  “I… knocked. Twice.” I couldn’t form words. What’s my name? Where am I?