by A. K. Koonce
I blink at the brisk subject change and lean back to study him. Sunlight glints off his different colored eyes. “The angels?”
“And so only a creature with angelic blood coursing through their veins can undo the magic that keeps the demons tethered here. But what angel will fight for the freedom of demons?”
“Syko—”
“He has angelic blood in his body, it’s true. But only the direct descendent of an angel can do this task. Neither him nor Kayos are powerful enough to do such a thing, as they aren’t direct descendents.”
I chew on my bottom lip and sweep a look around. “It’s probably a bad idea, anyway.” The creature on my lap is cute enough, but what about the other things that dwell here? If they were to escape into our dimension, it would wreak chaos into the world. Osmodeus alone, the things he could do… and perhaps there are more terrifying creatures out there than him.
I don’t want to find out what.
“Perhaps,” he drawls, “there is another way…” A slow look around the oasis accentuates his words. Then he flicks that gaze back to me and that golden eye is as bright as hellfire. “Maybe we can find a way to take a small essence of hell back to our dimension. Trap a bit of hell within... something... like an amulet. Something you can carry with you at all times. That small essence might help you have more control over your Prod.”
Can it be possible to actually steal an essence of hell? Not necessarily an object, but the actual essence of a place in such a way that my Prod will sense it and gain much needed control?
The essence of a place is like... the soul. As intricate as the fibers of a soul.
The impossibilities of extracting it…? But can it be?
I don’t want to hope.
“We should go.” I stand, the creature’s head slipping from my lap with a growling protest. I dust off the back of my uniform and turn to Professor Shade, who is looking across the oasis with an expression of infinite sadness along his features.
I wonder what he’s thinking about, but I don’t press. It’s a heartbreaking expression that even I’m not sure I’m brave enough to bear.
So I’m silent as I hold out my hand for him to take. He does and I pull him up, just before we combine our magic in a melding form and go back to the Academy.
Twenty-Three
Izara
We arrive back before anyone even notices we’ve been gone.
Like before, we land standing up, our hands grasped firmly. An electric sensation zaps through my veins at the simple contact, at the combining of our magic, and dies down slowly like a light being dimmed.
I try not to let my disappointment show at the sudden silence of my Prod. My wings lift, and I hear the final whispered breaths of her goodbye as she burrows herself deep within me. Waiting for the right moment when she can emerge and wreak havoc, destruction.
It’s a fear that’s haunted me since she awoke.
My fingers slip from Professor Shade’s.
“If you’re worried about your Prod, I can offer you private sessions.” He shoves his hands casually into the pockets of his sweatpants. “It’ll be easier for you, I think, to test your Prod without your friends there. Maybe check in with the nicer parts of hell from time to time to ease the beast’s chaos.” His smile is a caring and gentle shine of concern.
I chew on the inside of my cheek, contemplating this. I can’t not do anything about it, carry on as I had been before I’d been dragged to hell. I was learning, yes. This Academy is slowly teaching me, slowly making me better. But I’m afraid, afraid there might not be enough time to reintegrate myself back into this dull routine as I’ve been pretending to do since I came back.
The truth is, school has me bitter and angry. Sitting through lessons, stalking the hallways always on edge. I can’t help but wonder if it’s what Kayos feels. Like the slightest noise, the slightest touch, will take her somewhere she really doesn’t want to be.
My face hurts from smiling so much, from faking I’m alright with those around me. Really, I’m dying inside.
And I fear I will keep feeling this way unless I work at getting myself under control, work at finding a solution for this, for the mess that is my life.
So I let out a breath and I smile at Professor Shade. “Tell me when and where.”
Twenty-Four
Saint
He’s here. It’s like I can feel his shining shoe step onto the pretentious grounds of the Academy of Six.
Dear old daddy has come for a visit.
Fuck me.
Heaven blurs into the room so fast her glossy hair fans around her when she halts suddenly, leaning in a mock casual pose. Her breaths are even, her heartbeat is as frozen cold as ever. But it’s the littlest telling sign in her sharp features that tells me my father is near.
Red lips are pursed so hard together I can hear the harshness of her teeth grinding. The lazy folding of her arms is all tense angles instead of careless relaxation. Even her bright blue eyes are slitting glares that alert me to the predator I can now sense striding soundlessly toward my dorm room door.
He’s early.
I mean, isn’t he always? Shouldn’t I know by now to be prepared in time?
Parent’s day. It really is too bad sunlight can’t burn me to a crisp and kill me now. I could choke on a clove of garlic, steak myself through my useless heart, manage to chop off my head and he’d still expect me to sit diligently through this semester’s fatherly lecture, decapitated head in hand.
Malek is the only other person here to watch me suffer, and he surprisingly sits up from his bed as if he might help me in my misery.
Not that anyone can truly help me where my father is concerned.
His fine black coat sways through the door and I already feel the press of his disappointment on my shoulders. I feel sick but I smile through the twisting reaction of my stomach.
“Father,” I beam, straightening my wrinkled white button down.
His lips curl at the sight of the shirt I slept in. I would have changed but I’ve barely seen Izzy since we went camping two days ago. Every time I spot her she rushes off. I know I said anxiety and fear are slow building within me, but they are fucking alive and well right now.
How could she just ditch us after that? The weekend was perfect. Kind of.
I shouldn't have fucked her.
Jesus why did I do that? She was hurting and instead of comforting her, I joined her in a heartbreaking threesome.
Heartbreaking threesome: Words I never thought I’d say.
I didn’t get to talk about Shade’s shadiness because she snuck off before dawn and maybe that’s for the better right now. But why’d she sneak out on us?
On me.
And... why isn’t she here right now. I said—fuck I said I wanted her to meet my mom. Why did I say that? My family is not the meet and greet type.
What if I fucked this up between us?
Why am I always such a fuckup?
“Saint. You do realize the point of a uniform is—” My father’s dull tone is cut off by a shattering sound of squealing happiness.
“Saint! My Sweet Saint!” My mother’s bubbly face is as happy as I always remember. Her dark hair is tucked away beneath a white nun’s coif. She’s covered primly but there’s no denying she’s naturally beautiful. Even as she ages by the hour while my father stays eternally flawless.
“Matilda, I—I didn’t expect you this morning,” my father says, adjusting his silk tie. Those long fingers of his linger there at the front of his suit and I can’t explain the strange, formal relationship they’ve always had. I almost think he feels guilty for what he did to such a purely innocent woman.
Almost.
Phoenix peers in from the doorway and I just know he rushed my mother here as fast as un-humanly possible just to cock block my father out of being an asshole to me.
He’s sweet like that.
When the demon’s lips tilt with a knowing smirk and he winks at me, I remember why we
’re best friends. Sure his cock’s a bonus but deep down—really really deep fucking down—he’s selfless to those he loves.
With messy hair and narrowed eyes Malek watches us all with held silence.
My mother wraps me up in a surprisingly tight hug for an aging human woman. She smells distinctly like written words on paper. Like books. She’s still coddling me against her when heavenly wings and a sinful gaze passes Phoenix.
My mother’s eyes widen, her mouth opening with shock as her attention settles on Syko’s pure white wings.
I can’t help it when my lips part with a sudden breath. Syko’s here. He actually showed up.
... and Izzy didn’t.
That fucktacular feeling in the pit of my stomach churns bile like it’s preparing for sickness and heartache all at the same time.
My lashes brush my cheekbone and I try to breathe through all the shitty feelings attacking my body.
Phoenix doesn’t know how lucky he’s had it to miss out on things like scrambling anxiety.
How did I fuck things up so monumentally with Izzy and not even realize it? I can’t lose her. I fucking can’t!
“Sister Tilly?” a small voice whispers from nearby.
My eyes open, and the closest thing to an actual angel as I’ve ever seen stands in the center of the room.
Izara Castillo.
The tired remains of the blood in my veins rushes my heart so fast I swear it beats for her.
My mother shifts, the long black fabric of her habit swooshing over the tile floor delicately. The excited inquiring way my mother looks at my girlfriend is the opposite of how my father is idly judging the petite girl in front of him.
“Professor Shade told me you’d just arrived, and I rushed here as soon as I could,” Izzy says with a small smile.
Professor Shade?
Why is that asshole always lingering in her life? When everyone leaves, we’re all going to have a long talk.
“I’m sorry, who are you?” my mother asks.
My palm smooths along my mother’s back and I can’t take my eyes off of Izzy as I guide the woman at my side closer.
I’ve never in my life done this before.
“Mom, this is my girlfriend, Izara.”
Have I even called her that out loud? Why am I so fucking happy right now over introducing someone? Jesus I need to calm down before I drop to one knee and ask to take her hand in unholy matrimony.
Izzy’s wide smile matches mine though. Maybe I’m not the only one irrationally happy right now. Maybe I didn’t screw everything up.
“Izara, what a pretty name. Is he being kind to you? My Saint can be a bit misunderstood sometimes.” My mother’s statement is followed by an annoying snorting sound from my quiet twin behind me.
I arch an eyebrow at her. “Where’s Sasha, Heaven?” I ask flatly, pointedly, and yes, lowly.
The scowl my sister gives me is one she’s thrown my way for decades now.
Love you too, Sis.
“Who is Sasha?” The even tone my father speaks in hides his intent well but I know by the time he walks out the door the Vampiric Citadel will already know everything about Sasha down to the color of underwear her great great grandmother was buried in.
Thorough. My father is nothing if not thorough.
“No one, father,” Heaven doesn’t smile. She isn’t like me in that aspect. She doesn’t hide her lies behind smirks and sarcasm. When it comes to dear sweet daddy, she’s all serious respect. Which is why she’s the favorite.
My mother turns to my twin and instead of crushing her against her like she did me, she takes her hand in hers and I can feel the distance between the two women.
“Heaven.” My mother’s eyes shine with a love that feels lost and hopeless. Because in many ways, Heaven’s my father’s walking replica. Her coldness seeps into the room. Even with our mother. “Be careful here.”
“I am, mother.”
“I know. I just… I worry. I always worry about you.”
They stare at one another with too much difference separating them. Heaven pushes a small smile to her painted black lips, and it settles the nun’s nerves.
She tries.
Kind of.
“Izara!” A happy voice interrupts the awkwardness and when my attention finds a man in jeans and a black button down beaming at Izzy.
Her father.
The vampire across from me eyes Izzy’s father with new interest. When Izzy throws her arms around the man, I notice another visitor lingering behind them.
Fucking Shade.
His weird colored gaze twinkles with a smile and he watches Izzy and her dad just as closely as my own father is.
What is with him? I don’t trust him. I don’t fucking like him and that only fuels my distrust.
Izzy pulls back from her dad with a little smile touching her lips but it feels different than it once did. Her happiness is muted now and I don’t understand why.
“Professor Shade was kind enough to help me search for you. We wandered to your dorm, but you weren’t there.” Her dad says all that while peering sceptically from one dangerous Prod to the next.
He looks tense but all I can focus on is why Professor Shade told Izzy exactly where to go but lead her father away from here to begin with…
Fucking Professor Slim Shady is getting more and more under my skin every day.
There’s a gnawing feeling that crawls through me when my father’s attention settles fully on the Professor. His head tilts and the silent words that seem to pass between them is enough to make me want to gather everyone I care about in this room and hide them away from the two men locked in a gaze right now.
“Professor Shade?” The steady tone isn’t confused. My father is never confused. Because he will pick apart every person’s history in this room in a matter of seconds once he leaves.
Neither of them say more. Shade smiles a charming smile and then brushes his hand along my girlfriend’s arm like a slithering snake about to strike.
“We can finish our lesson later, Izara.”
My nails bite into my palm and I’ve very aware he didn’t call her Miss Castillo as every other professor here does.
She nods and then he’s gone.
And I’m still trying to figure out what the fuck is happening in my life.
“Heaven, walk me to the gates. I’d like to speak with you about a few things the Citadel has heard about recently.” My father’s gaze is still fixated on someone else rather than my twin. “Matilda.” His voice wavers in a hinting way. If love exists somewhere in my father, it’s for this nun. Even if he’ll never admit it.
“Please call me Sister Tilly, Tyrine.” She’s reminded him of that for as long as I can remember. It’s her way of kicking him in the balls and holding over his head what he did to a woman of God.
There’s a shine in my father’s cruel gaze that looks both amused and vacant all at the same time. It’s as close to sentimental as I’ve ever seen him.
Before he leaves, he extends his palm to my mother. She smiles softly, her pulse drilling despite the facade of calmness she always presents. When they shake, the vampire pulls hard at her hand, bringing her close with a surprised gasp tearing from her throat.
Panic slams through the room. Izzy is already striding toward them. Malek stands abruptly. Phoenix shoves Syko out of the way and rushes forward. But my father simply smiles, bows over her hand, and kisses her pale knuckles slowly.
Jesus fucking christ.
“Always a pleasure, Matilda.” The emphasis on pleasure makes that bile in my stomach crawl up my throat as disturbing parental images fill my head.
Fucking gross.
He leaves the room without a sound, Heaven trailing obediently after him. Silence is the gift he leaves us. But it only emphasises the erratic pulse in my mother’s veins and the shallow breaths slipping from her parted lips.
Love… is complicated.
Izara’s dad left within half an hour. I think this p
lace unnerves the mortal man more than he lets on. My own mother left in a flurry of dousing holy water, blessing the room and accidentally singeing Phoenix’s skin with the stuff.
The door closes behind my sweet mother. And then we’re finally alone.
Finally.
My hands find her hips and I rest my head against her shoulder. Too many emotions have me tired and all I want is to wrap her up, fuck her senseless and then, you know, apologize and snuggle.
But she pulls back from me.
She’s walking away. Again.
“I have to finish my lesson. I’ll be back later.”
Later. I’ve heard that word leave her lips daily over the last couple days.
“We need to talk,” Syko says, shoving off from his spot on the wall.
His words don’t slow her step.
“I’ll be back in a bit. Tonight. Or maybe before class in the morning. I’m sorry. I can’t miss this lesson.” She brushes her hand along his knuckles and he reaches for her.
But she’s already gone.
Malek and Phoenix stare blankly at the closed door.
She’s avoiding me.
“Motherfucker!” My teeth grind and my eyes close to the world. I shove my hands through my hair harshly and a million instances of me and Izzy together fly through my mind but I can’t find a single one that would have completely driven her away from me.
Maybe I shouldn’t have invaded her privacy in her room like that… I shouldn’t have fucked her when her emotions were so scattered… I shouldn’t have...
“Shade’s doing something,” Syko says suddenly.
Malek’s dark gaze shifts to the nephilim who’s clearly trying to sort all this out in his mind.
“Saint and I heard him over the weekend speaking with a demon. I don’t know what he was talking about but he’s not as trustworthy as Izara thinks he is.” Syko looks to Phoenix, but it’s Malek who speaks.
“Izzy likes him. I saw her just now, Professor Shade is like a father to her here.”
A father. Fuck that.
“We need to just talk to her. If we make enemies out of her allies, she’ll never listen to us.” The calm way Phoenix just thought all that out is opposite of the way his muscles are straining in his massive shoulders and arms.