by Eva Brandt
“Don’t be a fool, boy,” Lilith snapped at him. “Necromancy won’t bring that familiar back. All it will do is animate the dead body and turn it into a puppet. The resulting creature would be a monstrosity and would shatter Ms. Michaelis’s mind altogether.”
“She is already unwell,” Faust added. “Do you really want to harm her further?”
“That’s a nice try, but if you’d been so concerned about her health, you wouldn’t have taken her medicine. You would’ve given her aid for her condition.
“Do you really think we’re fools? Plenty of us get sick, for various reasons, and we always receive care. But because this is a mortal affliction, you’re treating her like she’s trash.
“We did the same, because we were afraid. But we won’t be afraid any longer.”
“That’s a charming sentiment,” the dean said, “and I understand where you’re coming from. But this isn’t about Ms. Michaelis’s health. We’re not here to hear out your opinion. You’re casting unauthorized, forbidden magic, and you will stop.”
The ground started to shake as the dean’s eyes lit up from within. Mephistopheles was a High Lord of Hell, and as the dean, he controlled this whole place. He must’ve been the one who’d defeated Redrum. Stefan and the others didn’t stand a chance.
“We need to hurry,” Callum whispered from his spot at the other edge of the glowing circle. “We’re out of time.”
Mikael must’ve understood what that meant, because he nodded. “TB, I’ll need your strength here, my friend.”
The snake didn’t hesitate. Moving as fast as lightning, she struck, burying her fangs in Mikael’s neck. I knew for a fact that she was venomous. Why in God’s and Satan’s name would she do something like this?
It took about ten seconds for me to get my answer. Mikael gasped in pain, and the blue of his eyes turned an ominous black. Then, his magic throbbed between us like a live thing, and the darkness in his gaze vanished, replaced by pure sunlight.
Massive, black wings exploded out of his back, and he screamed as blood and bone splattered all over the ground, making the glowing circle turn an ominous crimson. The coppery scent chased away the stench of death that had still emanated from Shiro. And that was when I understood.
Unfortunately, so did everyone else. Lilith’s breath caught as she took in the sight of Mikael, as he was now. “A nephilim...”
Faust let out a string of German words I couldn’t understand, despite being familiar with the language. I highly suspected he must be cursing in an older dialect. Meanwhile, Professor Jones pulled out his sword. “How did it get here? We must kill it, at once.”
At the same time, a creature clad in black robes and wielding a wicked-looking scythe manifested among the other teachers. “Grim, did you know about this?” Lilith asked it.
“Of course,” Grim replied in a shadowy voice that chilled me to the bone, “but it was not my place to interfere. Mikael Lost’s destiny belongs to him and him alone.”
“That might be the case in the Heavens,” Lilith replied bitingly, “but not here. One day, Grim, I’ll get tired of you and your secrets and figure out a way to destroy you. Even if you are Death.”
I might have started panicking about the fact that I was in the presence of the actual Grim Reaper had I not been too busy panicking over something else.
Like cambions, nephilim were half-breeds, born out of the union of angels and demons. Unfortunately, demons liked angels even less than they liked humans, and for that reason, nephilim were a taboo race. I had no idea what angels thought of them, but demons, who refused to have anything to do with the divine, considered them an abomination.
I might have made a serious miscalculation here.
Mikael shouldn’t have been on campus, let alone casting magic I now recognized as celestial. Lilith had deemed me inferior because of my epilepsy, but being an angel was so much worse. They’d kill him for this.
A million different thoughts swirled through my head as I desperately tried to come up with a solution. Dean Mephistopheles must’ve known and had allowed Mikael to attend the academy, regardless. My file had listed my parentage and all my ‘affiliations’, and Mikael’s must’ve been similar. Not only that, but Mephistopheles should’ve been able to sense the accumulating magic before Darling had sounded the alarm. He hadn’t shown up until after that, and I had a feeling that wasn’t because of his inability to find us.
All the teachers were ignoring that. Lilith had argued with the Grim Reaper for keeping the secret, but she hadn’t mentioned the possibility of Mephistopheles’s involvement at all. In other words, no one wanted to point out the proverbial elephant in the room—the fact that the dean himself had associated with a half-angel. It was a pretty classical strategy. If they could pretend the issue wasn’t there, its importance might fade away, in time. In the world of the demons, it seemed popular and effective.
Would revealing this help me? Probably not. If anything, it would put me in a worse position. It did tell me that the dean was, at least in part, on our side, but that meant nothing if he was unwilling to help us now.
As it turned out, providing us with assistance couldn’t have been further from Mephistopheles’s mind. He loosened his hold on his dark power, and the strange creatures that had tried to catch us at the academy reappeared, approaching the glowing circle. Now cornered, Callum could no longer help Mikael and me steady the spell.
He shot to his feet and brought his hands together in a position that ironically reminded me of praying. Energy exploded out of him, his usually seductive aura having been replaced by a terror so potent it almost shattered my concentration.
The shadows hissed in distress. Faust went pasty white. Grim’s hood fell, exposing a skull-like face.
Mephistopheles didn’t even blink. He just stood there, his back straight, his wings glowing with inner fire. “Do you think such things impress me?”
“That’s my line, Hell Lord,” Callum replied. Bright crimson chased away the jet black of his hair, and the waves of power he emanated became almost suffocating. “If you want to play this game, at least spare us your tricks. Shadow magic? Really?”
“You can do better than that,” Stefan added, his infernal magic already flaring around him.
Mephistopheles pressed his lips together so tightly they went white. “So be it. I will respect your choice.”
The demonic shadows vanished, but that wasn’t good news. It just meant Mephistopheles would take the impending fight seriously. The dark power he’d used to summon those creatures returned to him, and his whole body seemed to grow taller, gaining more muscle. His wings grew spikes and his humanoid legs turned into hoofed, animal feet.
When he spoke again, his tongue was forked. “Any last words, angel?”
Despite having been addressed only by Stefan and Callum, Mephistopheles was talking to Mikael. Much to my surprise, Mikael replied this time. “Yes, actually. Duck.”
I didn’t understand what he meant until a powerful burst of flame struck the dean. I followed it to its source, only to realize that, at one point, the unconscious Redrum had recovered. A gust of smoke escaped his nostrils as he hovered in the air, obviously prepared for a counterattack.
“That was for shooting me out of the sky earlier,” he said. “You know better than that, Hell Lord.”
The fire didn’t burn Mephistopheles, but it did make him stagger back. “I was disciplining a misbehaving member of the faculty,” he said. “It would appear I need to be a little more insistent.”
Redrum roared and liquid lava exploded from his throat. Almost all those present—with the exception of Grim and Mephistopheles—moved to the side in an obvious attempt to escape the infuriated dragon. “Redrum!” Lilith screeched. “Stop this insanity!”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” he replied. “You have all gone insane in your desire to keep Alyssa Michaelis from attending the classes of the academy. Her coming here was not your decision, nor was it mine. Gre
ater powers than ours dictated it, and you do not have the right to question it.
“You need to remember your place, she-demon. Dragons have existed since the beginning of time. We make our own choices and presumptuous creatures who can’t see what is right in front of their noses have no right to question us.”
It was kind of nice to see Redrum give Lilith a piece of his mind, but I was too worried to enjoy it. Lilith wasn’t the biggest danger here. Mephistopheles was, and Redrum had just attacked him.
Confirming my worst fears, the dragon fire faded away, revealing Mephistopheles standing in the same spot, utterly unscathed. “Ow. That was rude.”
Oh, shit. This was not good, not good at all.
Mephistopheles didn’t look like the kind of guy who expressed pain in any way. The fact that he’d done so spoke volumes of just how much trouble we were in.
Mikael must’ve realized it as well, because he summoned more of his divine magic to his aid. I could feel him straining under the effects of the power he was unaccustomed to. He was hurting himself to do this, to help me save Shiro. I didn’t know what was worse—my inability to help him, or the fact that, despite everything, I was still selfishly glad he was doing this for me.
Feeling wretched, I reached out to him with my free hand. I ended up brushing my fingers over the edge of his right wing. He shuddered and let out a small, breathy gasp.
“Redrum and the others won’t win,” he whispered. “But they can stall long enough for us to do what we came here for. Just a little longer, and we’ll... We’ll...”
A powerful jolt of energy coursed through him, ricocheting into me and Shiro. It was so intense that, for a few seconds, I thought it would trigger another seizure. Even good things could be bad when they were overwhelming.
I needn’t have worried. A heartbeat later, the magic settled into a comfortable blanket that soothed every single ache and pain I felt. But that wasn’t the most important thing. When the bright light faded, the first thing I saw was my Shiro, once again unharmed, getting up and shaking off the last traces of the black magic that had stolen him from me.
“Shiro!” I cried, unable to suppress my enthusiasm. I lunged forward and hugged his neck in desperate relief. His fur still smelled like old blood, but he was alive, breathing, and himself.
“See?” Mikael asked. “I told you we could do this as long as we worked together.”
I met his tired smile with one of my own. “Thank you,” I replied, tears now trailing down my cheeks. “Thank you so much.”
A few feet away from us, Redrum let out a satisfied, if pained rumble. At one point when I’d been unaware, Dean Mephistopheles had shot him out of the sky again. Redrum didn’t seem to mind. “There you go,” he said. “Problem solved.”
“It’s not nearly so simple and you know that, Redrum,” Mephistopheles replied.
“Oh, I have to disagree with you, Dean Mephistopheles,” Lilith said, hissing in displeasure. “It is very simple. As Ms. Michaelis so kindly pointed out, it would seem we have a divine visit here. This is absolutely unacceptable and Mr. Lost has to pay the price for it.”
Outrage exploded through me at her comment. “What’s unacceptable is that you did nothing to find out who harmed Shiro, and now you’re blaming us for helping him. Who cares what method we had to use to bring him back? You yourself admitted that he deserved better.”
“Normally, I would agree, child, but when it comes to the divine, we can’t make any compromises.”
They couldn’t make compromises? Seriously? Since when? Oh, right. The people at the academy only followed rules when it was convenient and when they needed to hurt someone they didn’t like.
I intended to lash out at her again, but Mikael stopped me. He winked at me, and the playful expression was so out of place it stopped my protests. Too late did I realize my mistake.
Mikael got up and turned toward the teachers. “I agree with you, Lady Lilith. I understand the consequences of my actions, and I’m aware my presence here is an abomination. There’s no need to fight any longer. I’m ready to go with you and take my punishment.”
He uncoiled TB from around his neck and passed her into my arms. “I’m sure you’ll take excellent care of my familiar, Alyssa. You’re a far better person and partner than I could ever hope to be.”
I didn’t know if that was true or not, but it didn’t matter. I wasn’t Mikael. TB hadn’t picked me as her companion. I couldn’t replace him. “Mikael, don’t do this. There has to be another way.”
Mikael shook his head. “There isn’t. When I came here, I accepted that I needed to leave my divine heritage behind. I broke that rule today. But I don’t regret it, not in the slightest. Although I do regret having to die. That wasn’t in the plan.”
“Not everything goes according to plan, Mikael Lost,” Professor Jones said. “You should have never dabbled with resurrection magic. That was a terrible mistake.”
“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one, Sir,” Mikael answered. “Besides, I think that out of everyone here, you’re the last person who should lecture people on terrible mistakes.”
Professor Jones’s eyes flashed with dark fury. I had no idea what secrets he was keeping, but it didn’t take a genius to realize our Herbalism teacher might’ve made some missteps of his own, things Mikael knew about. Unfortunately, the situation had escalated to the point where he couldn’t use that information for anything except taunting his opponent, which was, of course, counterproductive. “As always, you go too far,” Professor Jones said. “But perhaps that is not so surprising. You did dare to come here, despite your distasteful parentage. But never fear. We will be able to fix that soon enough.”
The clouds above us started to darken and the air filled with moisture. Professor Jones’s body lit up in a strange, deep shade of blue. The light started to swirl, but unlike Mikael’s power, which had remained immaterial, Professor Jones’s abilities had a different effect.
A column of water manifested around him, rising all the way to skies, so overwhelmingly massive it took my breath away. It was as if, in the blink of an eye, a tidal wave had popped up into existence, ready to crush us all under its destructive power. Like the buildings, it defied gravity and just hovered there, behind the man who’d summoned it. I had no doubt it wouldn’t stay harmless for much longer.
The other students had told me that Professor Jones taught elemental magic, but I’d never seen him use it before. I’d also witnessed a lot of people, students and teachers alike, summon fire, but never water or other elements. To a certain extent, I felt the fire magic wasn’t elemental manipulation at all.
I saw Callum go pasty white, and I knew this wasn’t something Mikael could fight. Maybe even nephilim had their limits, and elemental magic was one of them.
Logic stated that I shouldn’t have been able to do much either. I was only a mortal girl, and my skills were underwhelming at best. But my life had never been all that logical, and at that moment, I was struck by the realization that I couldn’t allow this to happen.
Mere days ago, I’d stood by, helpless, as my familiar had been killed in front of me. Mikael had brought Shiro back, at great personal cost. I wouldn’t let him die for it.
The vicious anger I’d experienced during my earlier conversation with Lilith reemerged with a vengeance. After that, everything happened so quickly. The tidal wave turned into something akin to an octopus, and the strange watery tentacles zeroed in on Mikael with alarming accuracy. TB hissed in distress and hid her head under my hair. Stefan let out an enraged roar.
A powerful jet of fire erupted out of me, hitting Professor Jones in the chest. The watery tentacles evaporated seconds before they could reach Mikael, as if struck by a solar explosion. Professor Jones went down like a rock and didn’t move.
It was so sudden it seemed almost anticlimactic. Everyone turned to stare at me, gaping, some displaying more shock than others. “Ms. Michaelis?” Dean Mephistopheles asked. “I wasn’t aw
are you had such skills.”
“Join the club,” I said, staring at my still-glowing hands. Hysterical laughter bubbled in my chest. “I had no idea either. Go me.”
“Does it really matter?” Faust asked. “The girl assaulted a member of the staff. Grim, Ammit, do something!”
Grim waved his skeletal hand and his scythe turned into a bench. “These petty mortal matters are beneath me.”
Ammit curled down on the ground, apparently deciding she wanted to take a nap instead. Lilith groaned and buried her face in her hands. “Why? How is this happening?”
Their reaction was promising, but I knew I couldn’t rely on it. Mikael was still a nephilim and they still intended to remove him from the school—or better said, from existence, permanently.
I needed another solution, something they couldn’t wriggle out of.
A memory drifted into my mind, that of the conversation I’d had with Dean Mephistopheles the day of the fight between Mikael and Stefan. Familiars were under special protection and were really respected at the school. Anyone could become a familiar. Even a person.
“You can’t hurt him,” I heard myself blurt out. “It’s against the rules. He’s my familiar.”
I hadn’t thought I could shock the teachers any further, but I was proven wrong. Lilith slid down to the ground and Grim fell from his scythe-like bench. Dean Mephistopheles’s wings changed color so quickly the display should’ve come with a seizure warning. “Excuse me? Your familiar?”
Mikael and the others hadn’t said anything yet, but it was too late to back out now. I might have no idea what I was doing, but I’d always been excellent at the ‘fake it until you make it’ strategy and at pretending everything was okay when it really wasn’t. “Of course,” I replied. “That’s why we’ve been having so much trouble with one another. I already have Shiro, so it’s tough to juggle two familiars.”
“Yes,” Dean Mephistopheles drawled, “and Mr. Lost has his lovely serpent as well. But said serpent does seem attached to you and Mr. Lost did make a great sacrifice for your sake... I suppose there’s no harm in checking.”