Angel Academy: Full Series Page 3

  I groan. “Fine.” It’ll be worth it if I can get another Whovian in the dorms.

  This place may be a tiny bit terrifying, but at least I’m starting to get the hang of it.

  Chapter Nine

  Over the weekend, because at least there are weekends in Heaven, we finish the first season of the modern Doctor Who, and I manage to make it halfway through the Austen novel. If I didn’t, Huỳnh would probably stop speaking to me. At least I get to choose the next book when we’re done with it. At this point, book club includes a few students from my first term classes, which means I’m not the only one without wings.

  I’m getting better at my physical classes, but the theory is just not sticking. As it turns out, the Bible got a lot of stuff wrong, so my limited Christian experience is pretty much completely unhelpful. As it turns out, Jesus was a black woman, not the white man depicted in literally all the paintings I’ve ever seen. And she was killed for beheading several Roman soldiers who abused their power, not for preaching. That info would piss people off back home.

  I spend the evenings doing book club, watching movies, and studying. I still sleep every night, but only for a few hours. As it turns out, I’m not quite sure what to do with nearly unlimited free time. I glance at Huỳnh’s wings with envy. If I had some of those, maybe I could fly around.

  I’m sitting in my room in the middle of a weekend afternoon, watching a reality TV show that I was obsessed with on Earth, when a loud BOOM shakes the ground. I stand up, stumbling toward the door. When I open it, several other heads are poking out into the hallway.

  “What was that?” I ask Huỳnh across the hall.

  She shrugs, looking unperturbed, but then it happens again. A boom that tosses us to the side just enough to be concerning.

  “Please tell me there are Earthquakes here. Heaven-quakes, I mean.” I grip my doorway like it’s a lifeline. Unfortunately, Huỳnh shakes her head.

  I’m the first to step out of my room, and I stumble down the spiral staircase. Maybe someone in the mess hall or around the classrooms can enlighten me.

  But there’s nobody around. I trace my steps back and end up in the hospital wing. There’s never anybody here, and I wonder if it might just be a welcome area to transition new students into Theaa.

  When I step through the doorway, something is wrong. The marble doesn’t shine like it did before, and the beds are askew. One shining silver table is tipped on its side.

  “Hello?” I call, but there is no answer. Where are all the teachers? Just as I’m about to turn around, a dark figure with shining white wings darts past the window. I sigh with relief. That must be Gabriel. He can tell me what’s happening.

  I stroll over, but he doesn’t notice me. He hovers in mid air, sunlight filtering through his feathers to somehow make him even more angelic.

  I open the window. “What’s going on?” I call.

  He darts his eyes to me, and they widen. “Go back to your room. Tell all the students to lock their—” he’s cut off by a writhing black figure crashing into him, all limbs and claws and smoke. I can’t focus on it, not because it’s moving too fast, but because every time I try, my vision blurs.

  What the hell is that thing?

  I turn to run when the glass windows behind me shatter all at once. I fall to the floor, breathless. Something heavy skitters over the glass, then lands directly in the center of my back. Talons dig into my shoulders, and I try to reach around to remove whatever it is, but I can’t seem to get a grip on it.

  I cry out when one of the talons penetrates my skin. Is that something that can happen in heaven? Can I actually be hurt? Molten gold drips out from my shoulder, and I gasp at the sight. The wrongness of it stops my writhing. Something clatters to the ground in front of me, and I lift my head as high as I can with the creature breathing down my neck and tearing at my skin.

  A sword.

  I reach out, my fingers barely brushing it. The thing attacking me tightens its hold, and I let out a shriek as a sharp pain slices down my back just as I my hand grasps the sword. Electricity races up my arm, and a rightness settles in my gut.

  Tears prick at my eyes, and I plunge the heavy sword blindly behind me. The creature screeches, the sound absolutely deafening right next to my ear. Its claws release from my flesh, and black goop spills out over me, hissing and bubbling but not doing any harm to my body. I close my eyes as the liquid runs over my face.

  After a mere moment, the weight disappates from my completely. Like it was never there. Even the disgusting goo sticking to my skin fades.

  “Avery, are you alright?” Gabriel asks, but I can’t bring myself to turn and look at him.

  I open my mouth to speak, but the words won’t come out.

  Am I alright? What the hell was that thing?

  “Avery, I need you to sit up,” another voice says. Azrael. She helps me, her hands gentle. Why can’t I see her though? I cover my face with my empty hand, but the bright white in front of my eyes doesn’t go away.

  “I think she was bitten,” Gabriel says.

  Bitten? What the hell?

  “Avery, you’re going to be alright. We will treat your injuries, and you will be fine in a few hours. But I need you to close your wings so we can carry you,” she says.

  Wings?

  Her words don’t make sense. It can’t be possible. Aren’t I supposed to undergo some sort of vague ceremony at the end of term to get my wings?

  I close my eyes—they’re useless right now anyway—and focus on all the muscles in my body. The problem is, there are several new ones, which are sprouting from the center of my back, right where that burning agony had been moments ago.

  “I can try,” I croak. When did my throat get so dry?

  There’s a shuffling of feathers against each other, but it’s hard to tell exactly what I’m doing when I can’t see these clumsy new appendages.

  “It’s alright,” Gabriel says, his voice eternally calm. “Take your time.”

  Finally, they’re tight against my back, and the archangels help me to a standing position. I lean on Azrael, who tells me where to step as we go. I want to reach behind me and feel the wings, but one hand is far too heavy, and the other is wrapped around Azrael’s shoulder.

  “We’re going back to your room,” she says. “You’ll be more comfortable there.”

  I am so glad I can’t see the stares that must be focused on me when we reach the housing wing. There are mumbles as I come through, though. Some are shocked, and some are disapproving. I try my best to block out the words.

  “Are you okay?” Huỳnh asks, another hand landing on my shoulder. “How did this happen?”

  Azrael’s voice is filled with dread.

  “Demons were able to infiltrate Theaa Academy. We were able to fend them off, though.” She pauses to whisper my room number. “Avery killed one.”

  The mumbles of the other students turn to whispers, and I can’t help but strain to hear their now hushed words. What are they saying about me?

  More importantly, how did I manage to kill a demon and sprout wings after only just arriving here?

  Chapter Ten

  Once I’m seated in my bed, Gabriel says, “Avery, we need you to let go of the sword.”

  Until now, I hadn’t even realized that I still have the sword tight in my grip, the leather of the handle practically embedded into my palm. I lift each finger individually, and the weapon clatters to the floor. When it’s gone, I let out a sigh of relief. That’s why my arm had been so heavy.

  Azrael begins to clean my wounds, and, despite her care, it still hurts like hell. I gasp and grip the sheets. At least I don’t have to look at the apparently golden blood that’s flowing through my veins.

  “You’re doing great,” Gabriel says, and I nod just as another sting lights up my shoulder with fire. I don’t feel great, but I’m sure that’s obvious by my hands gripping the sheets like a lifeline.

  “Nearly done,” Azrael says, resting a pa
lm on the last spot, right where the demon’s talons had dug under the skin and muscle right down to the bone. I cry out as she scorches my skin, clenching my hands tight so I don’t move. My nails bite into my palms.

  “How did demons even get in?” I ask to distract myself. “This is Heaven. Actual Heaven.” As if I need to clarify.

  Azrael sighs and releases my shoulder, but the burn is still there. At least it’s beginning to ebb. “Honestly, we aren’t sure. It’s happened before, but it’s been…A while.”

  I nod, although I’m not quite sure I understand. The fact that they don’t know what happened is making me uneasy. If they don’t know how it happened, then they don’t know how to prevent it from happening again. My stomach rolls, something so unexpected that it gives me pause. Do angels vomit?

  The new muscles that attach at my shoulder blades tense.

  Angels.

  I’m an angel. A freaking angel. I thought that being friends with angels would make this a simple transition, but I guess it never really absorbed that I would become one, too.

  “I think I need to sleep,” I say. My vision has slowly begun to come back, fading from total whiteness to vague blurry shapes. “It’s been a lot.”

  After a pause, Gabriel says, “Alright. Take all the time you need.”

  When the door closes behind them, I lie on my stomach. My wings are huge and awkward, and I don’t think I can figure out how to be comfortable on my back or side with these things taking up so much space.

  Maybe I should’ve paid more attention in Intro to Flying. I can’t even picture the anatomy of my wings to move them properly.

  Chapter Eleven

  When I awaken, eyesight back to normal, there’s a letter on my desk, along with a package. I pick up the brown box that’s tied with a pearl white ribbon, but I read the letter first.

  “Please report to classes as usual. The package enclosed should help with your wings. -G.”

  My mouth twists into a frown, but I open the package anyway. The leather straps enclosed cause me to burst into a fit of giggles.

  It’s a harness. Of course.

  As it turns out, wrestling unfamiliar fourteen-foot wings into a harness on one’s back is not a simple task. When I’m done, though, my wings tuck neatly against my pristine uniform, and I’m grateful that I won’t be able to accidentally hit anybody with them. They’re huge, and, although I haven’t tested them out, the muscles feel tightly wound and ready to spring into powerful action. I could really do some damage with these things if I wanted to.

  I take the door handle, but I hesitate. The sword is lying on my desk, and I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with it. It’s blinding silver with pearl white leather wrapped around the hilt, and Enochian runes are embedded all the way up the blade. I look at the door, then the sword.

  Maybe it’s Gabriel’s, and I’m supposed to return it? I sigh and grab it off the desk, shoving the blade through one of the harness straps, as I don’t have any sort of sheath to keep it in. This will do for now. It’s not like I can keep a magical sword in my room anyway. Wouldn’t that be a rule violation about weapons? It’s hard to tell, as I never got a student handbook.

  If I don’t go now, I’ll be late, so I step into the hallway. A few students are still milling around, and they all pause to stare at me. Most of them are wingless, and the one girl who has wings isn’t wearing a harness. I set my jaw. If I’m going to get stares for how ridiculous I look today, then I will have to own it.

  This will be fine.

  Chapter Twelve

  The only way to manage my day is for me to stride into class like I own the place. Fencing is the very first class I have, so I march up to the front of the class and pull the sword out, turning the handle to Gabriel.

  He just raises his eyebrows at me. “What is this?” he asks.

  I am viscerally aware of everyone’s eyes on me. This is a beginner-level class, and I have freaking wings strapped to my back, itching to escape and spread out.

  “The sword I used to kill the demon yesterday,” I say. My voice may be powerful, but my heart is racing, and my stomach flutters with nerves. “I figured you might want it back.”

  “Ah,” is all he says. Then, he sets his pen down and crosses his arms.

  I’m still standing here, holding the sword out to him. Why isn’t he taking it?

  “That’s not my sword,” he says.

  Every pair of eyes is on us right now. Oh, god. What do I do?

  He smiles, although he doesn’t show teeth, and his eyes are tight. “That’s your sword,” he says.

  But that doesn’t make any sense.

  He continues, “When the demon hurt you, you were able to summon your weapon. Some get scythes, others get axes, some shields. You were given a sword.”

  Oh. My eyes widen as I think of the implications. I was given a sword? How is that decided? Who decides that?

  “Avery, you are an angel now, but your training is nowhere near where it would normally be when you go through this change.” He drops his arms and takes the sword in one hand. He swipes it side to side, then balances it by the guard. “It’s a lovely weapon. It will work well.” He sets it on his desk. “But for now, I’d prefer if you used the foils like the rest of the class. You can pick this up before you go back to your dormitory at the end of the day.”

  I nod, relief flooding me. At the very least, I won’t have a sword sticking out of my belt all day. I’ve got enough for people to ogle at as-is.

  “Is it true you killed a demon?” Nicolai asks, raising his foil to me, and I match his stance.

  I nod. “I mean, it was that or die.” I pause. “Can angels die? I mean, we’re dead already.”

  He shrugs. “I wouldn’t know. Haven’t gotten to that part in class.” He lunges at me, and I block him. He uses the moment to whip his sword around and tap me on my waist. I groan. “For a full-fledged angel, you kind of suck,” he laughs.

  I roll my eyes, and we go back to our starting stances.

  The rest of my day is filled with every variety of interaction possible, from Nicolai’s lighthearted humor to the endless badgering of students in my other classes.

  Finally, when we’re let go from Intro to Flying, a humiliating lesson where the teacher stretched one of my wings out to demonstrate the different muscles and their functions, I go back to Gabriel’s classroom.

  “Here,” he says, passing my sword back to me. Now, though, it’s encased in a sheath, which shines and glistens like a transparent opal. I can just make out the sigils that are engraved down the blade. I should definitely study harder, because I can only figure out a couple of them.

  Before I make it back to my room, Huỳnh catches up with me. “How’s it feel?” She asks, clapping a hand on my shoulder. She’s sporting an excited grin.

  I tilt my head. “How does what feel?”

  She laughs. “Being an angel. Pretty amazing, right?”

  I frown. “I don’t know. My wings hurt.” There’s a sentence I never thought I’d say.

  She glances at my back. “That’s because you’ve got this thing on.” She snaps one of the harness straps against my skin—no, my feathers—then looks around. “Put your sword away and come with me.”

  What is she up to? I hide the sword under my bed like I used to do with contraband romance novels back home, then meet her back in the hall. She takes my hand and leads me downstairs, then across the school until we’re outside. Outside. I spread my arms and take in a deep breath. A lot of the walkways are mostly open to the air, but they’re still enclosed in some way. This is the first time I’ve been outside since coming here.

  “Ready?” Huỳnh asks. Before I can reply, she unclips my harness, and my wings spring free. They stretch out, and I have to close my eyes to figure out which muscles do what. Who knew that having brand-new muscles could be so complicated? I groan at the feeling of relief that this brings. Being out of the harness feels absolutely incredible, and a cool breeze flows
around us, ruffling through my sensitive feathers.

  I have feathers. I open my eyes and grin at Huỳnh.

  “Ready to fly?” she asks.

  My eyes widen.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Unsurprisingly, flying for the first time ever is a lot more difficult than it seems. I can’t even get myself off the ground, as my wings just won’t cooperate. Eventually, I give up and sit on the ground, watching Huỳnh rise and plummet above me. Another student joins her. Is that Gabe? I squint, but I can’t be sure.

  My face falls, but I try to stay positive. At least I’ll be ahead of the rest of my class when they do get their wings. I focus on my muscles, flexing and releasing. If I can just get used to the way they feel, maybe I’ll be able to figure out the flying part.

  I sigh.

  I really don’t fit in anywhere at this school. To my peers, I’m a weirdo with wings who can’t do the basics, and to the older students who’ve already gotten their wings, I’m just an inexperienced girl who doesn’t understand them.

  Eventually, I wave halfheartedly at Huỳnh—and possibly Gabe, although they haven’t come close enough for me to tell—and go back to my room after strapping my wings back in. I’m still not confident that they’ll stay against my back for long if I leave them out. Any unconscious movement is multiplied tenfold by their sheer size. Why do wings have to be such huge, physical things? Aren’t we supposed to be ethereal beings? Wings made of light would be way easier to handle.

  When I go in my room, it’s a little cramped. Now I understand why Huỳnh’s room is so spacious. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be room for her wings. Just as I’m thinking that, the space stretches out, and the ceiling moves upward.

  Well, at least renovating is an easy process.

  I sigh and sit at my desk. I could spend the night feeling sorry for myself, or I could buckle down and get my homework done. I opt for the second. The distraction will be good for me.