Authors: Michelle Pickett
Tags: #Romance, #Angels, #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Young Adult, #demons, #teen
“Who’s he?” Muriel asked, eyeing Xavier.
“New guy. Xavier.”
“I want one.”
I laughed out loud. “You and every other
single girl in the school.”
“Probably some not-so-single girls, too.
What’s he like?”
“He seems nice, I guess. I haven’t been
around him long enough to know.” I shrugged a shoulder.
“Does Chay know him?”
I almost started laughing at her question
since Chay was already in the Anti-Xavier Fan Club. In fact, he was
the president and founding member. “No, why?”
“You three walked in together.”
“Oh, Mr. Ferguson asked me to show Xavier
around today. That’s all.”
“Some girls get all the luck,” Muriel
muttered and pulled her homework out of her binder, passing it
forward.
As it turned out, I would have been lucky… if
I’d been interested in Xavier. He shared five out of seven classes
with me. Thankfully English, which I shared with Chay, wasn’t one
of them. I wasn’t up for the jealous boyfriend thing. He was acting
possessive enough knowing Xavier and I had so many classes
together. Not that it mattered. My heart belonged to Chay, no
matter how sinfully gorgeous and sexy Xavier was. And he was all of
those things and a bag of chips.
***
My stomach twisted painfully and my head
started to pound like someone dropped an anvil on it, like in
cartoons. A vision. That was how they started. My duty as a
demi-angel was to protect humans—a demi-angel was the child of an
angel and a human. When I was able to step in and change a
situation, to right a wrong, I had to. I had no control over the
urge, and I couldn’t fight it. The visions were something else I
had no control over. They came whenever and wherever I was.
Sometimes, I’d go days without having one. Other times, I’d have
three or four in a day. I never knew what my day would hold. It
made scheduling a bitch.
That day, I was on number two. The sights and
sounds of the students in the hallway faded and were replaced by
images of things that hadn’t happened yet.
Sela. Tears. Falling.
Sela. I could see her face clearly in my
mind. She was crying as she ran up the stairs, her heavy books in
her hands making her unsteady. She was going to slip and fall on
the wet tile. I could see blood seeping onto the step beneath her.
The images ran in front of my eyes like a slide show. I could see
everything before it happened—I had to step in and stop her before
she got hurt.
Water. Falling. Blood.
“Sela,” I called.
She kept going. The vision didn’t change.
“Sela. Wait up.”
She stopped and looked at me. Her face red
and eyes swollen from crying. “What?”
“Don’t take those stairs. They were just
mopped. See?” I pointed at the yellow
‘Wet Floor’
sign.
“Crap.” Fresh tears fell from her eyes, and
she swiped them with the back of her hand. I held out a tissue and
she took it, giving me a small smile. “Thanks.”
“You want to talk about it?”
“Just guy stuff. John dumped me in history
class. A little ironic, huh? Dumps me in history… we’re
history.”
John’s a jerk. I never knew what you saw in
him in the first place.
“I’m sorry.” I could feel the pain radiating
from her—another of my freaky demi-angel powers.
“He could’ve at least waited until after
school so I didn’t cry like a fool in front of everyone,” she said
through clenched teeth, tears still running down her face.
He’s an idiot.
“Guys can be insensitive, but I don’t think
anyone thinks you’re a fool. We’ve all been there.”
“Thanks, Milayna. I have to go. I have to run
to the stairs on the other side of the hall. I’m gonna be late for
class. See ya.” She jogged away with a wave.
The pain in my stomach and head eased. The
vision was over. I’d kept Sela from falling on the stairs. That
would have been just what she needed… getting dumped in class and
leaving crying, feeling like a fool, only to fall up the stairs and
break her nose.
A typical Monday in high school.
***
That night after school, I saw them. I hadn’t
seen Azazel’s demons since my eighteenth birthday. On November
first, all Saint’s Day, thirty-seven seconds after one in the
morning, they disappeared. February twenty-eighth, they were back.
But I wasn’t scared. I was stronger. Untouchable. I knew it. Azazel
knew it, too. So he sent someone else.
Someone to kill me.
2
There was a hierarchy in the demon world.
Azazel was one of the demons at the top of that hierarchy. Hell’s
angel—pure, unadulterated evil. His sole purpose was to turn angels
and demi-angels from good to evil, make them switch sides. If he
couldn’t get them to switch, his next objective was to kill them.
As a demi-angel, he was my ultimate nemesis.
When I turned eighteen, I fully matured as a
demi-angel. And since my father was a high-ranking official in the
Iri council before he decided to become mortal, I was a
high-ranking demi-angel. That made me stronger. I was untouchable
by Azazel. He could try to manipulate me into changing sides, but
he couldn’t force me and he couldn’t kill me.
But there were more like him. I was sure of
it. No one knew how many high-ranking demons there were in Hell
other than Azazel. I was sure there were more. And that scared the
hell outta me—or into me, I wasn’t sure which.
The second level consisted of demons. They
were ugly, strong, and almost as evil as Azazel. They lived in the
depths of Hell. They were not something you wanted to meet alone in
a dark alley. Well, anywhere, really.
As if the demons in Hell weren’t enough to
deal with, there were demons on earth. Demi-demons made up the
third level. They were like demi-angels, but instead of having an
angel for a parent, they had a demon, children of fallen angels.
Their human parents were usually atheists, or they dabbled in the
occult. Either way, their children were as strong as demi-angels
and probably the most dangerous form of demons for us to deal with.
There was nothing to differentiate them from other humans.
Demi-angels didn’t know who the enemy was until the demi-demon
decided to reveal themselves, which was a dangerous position to be
in.
The fourth level was Evils. They started out
as demi-angels, but switched sides, becoming one of Azazel’s
followers. Every demi-angel he turned, he absorbed some of their
power, leaving the Evils with less strength. They were
troublemakers, but they rarely had enough power to do any damage
unless they teamed up with a demi-demon, which they did a lot.
Hobgoblins were the lowest of all the demons.
They were the harbingers of news from the underworld. Hell. A place
I’d been fighting to stay out of since before my eighteenth
birthday. Hobgoblins were almost cute with their short, roly-poly
bodies and childish behavior, but if you got on their bad side,
their little faces turned demonic and all cuteness vanished. It was
this type of demon I was looking at in my backyard.
“What are you doing here?” I glared at the
hobgoblins running around my yard on their stumpy little legs,
their round bellies jiggling. Their girly, high-pitched squeals
pierced my ears.
These two particular goblins seemed to be
assigned to me. My very own demon buddies. The same pair always
visited. One was friendly. He looked and acted like a toddler. With
a tuft of black hair standing on end on top of its oval head and
chubby checks framing its puffy lips, it was almost cute… until I
remembered it was a spawn from the very bowels of Hell.
The second was moody and temperamental. I,
not so affectionately, called him Scarface. He had a deep scar
running from his left ear to the side of his mouth. As young and
friendly as goblin number one acted, Scarface was his polar
opposite. He acted like a cantankerous old fart.
“We’re here to play!” Friendly said. It was
his standard answer whenever they made an appearance.
“I’m not in the mood to play. Why are you
here?” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“We’re here to play,” Friendly said again,
swinging on my childhood swing set. His stumpy legs pumping back
and forth to make the swing move, he cackled in delight as he
swayed back and forth.
“We’re here to warn you,” Scarface
grumbled.
“About what?”
“He is coming.”
Rolling my eyes, I sighed. “Azazel has no
power over me, and I’m getting tired of hearing about him. So
vamoose.”
“Not Azazel, not Azazel,” Friendly chanted.
“Another is coming, he is coming… for you.” He whispered the last
words, and then let out a fit of giggles.
With their warning given, there were two
little
pops
and the hobgoblins disappeared, leaving nothing
behind but two puffs of smoke and the faint odor of sulfur.
“What did they want?” Chay asked behind
me.
I jumped, a small gasp escaping my lips.
“Don’t do that,” I said, rubbing my hands up and down my arms to
ward off the cold Michigan breeze.
Chay pulled me against him, kissing the top
of my head and wrapping his arms around me. I snuggled against his
warmth, breathing him in.
“What were they doing here?” His lips moved
against my hair, sending shivers down my body that had nothing to
do with the cold night.
I looked up at him and smiled. “They came to
warn me.”
“About?”
“They told me ‘
he is coming,’
whoever
that is.” I shrugged.
“Hmm, sounds ominous,” he said with a twitch
of his lips.
“Just empty threats.” I stood on my toes and
kissed Chay lightly.
When I started to pull away, he tightened his
grip around my waist. “Don’t go,” he murmured, nuzzling behind my
ear. “I’m cold.”
I laughed and kissed him quickly. “If my dad
catches you out here, you’ll be toast.”
Chay angled his mouth over mine. He kissed me
long and slow, his tongue dipping between my lips. I sighed at the
feel. It was a pure bliss kiss. The kind that made my toes curl.
That was what Chay’s kisses were—pure bliss. When he raised his
head, we were both breathing hard. My head swam and goose bumps
dotted my skin.
“I guess I should go.”
“Yeah.” I nodded, still out of breath.
He grinned crookedly and kissed me one last
time before he jumped the back fence and jogged home. I watched him
until he disappeared into the dark night, my fingers lightly
touching my lips, still swollen from his kiss.
***
I was talking with Chay before chemistry
class started when I felt a bump under my seat. I ignored it. A few
seconds later, there was another kick. I turned in my seat and
looked behind me. A flash of white glinted between his full lips
when he smiled at me. His dimple, just one, creased deep in his
cheek.
“Hi,” Xavier said.
“Hey.”
“Did you finish the calculus homework?”
“Yes. Why?” I asked.
“Would you mind looking at my answer for
number seventeen and seeing if I’m even in the vicinity of being
correct?” He gave me a pleading look. Chay’s hand squeezed mine
painfully as he watched Xavier.
“Um, sure.” I grabbed my homework from my
binder and slid it across the table to him. He compared his
calculations to mine and sighed.
“Great. I’m not as lost as I thought I was.
My other school hadn’t covered this material yet.”
“Glad I could help.” I reached for my paper
and slipped it in my binder. Chay cleared his throat. I turned
around in my seat and frowned at him. “Knock it off,” I
whispered.
“He’s flirting with you.”
I rolled my eyes. “In what world does asking
someone for help on calculus homework constitute flirting?”
“In a guy’s.”
“Don’t you trust me, Chay?”
“Yeah. It’s him I don’t trust.” He flicked
his eyes in Xavier’s direction.
I leaned over and kissed him, biting his
lower lip before sucking it into my mouth. Chay threaded his
fingers through my hair and held my head to him. When I pulled
back, I looked him in the eyes. “You don’t have anything to worry
about. I love you.”
Halfway through the class, I felt a nudge on
the bottom of my seat. I eyed Xavier over my shoulder, raising a
brow in question. He handed a folded piece of paper to me.
He’s passing me notes now?
I took the paper and read it when the
instructor had his back to the class:
Thanks for the help. I owe
you one. Lunch?
Wadding the paper up before Chay could read
it, I lobbed it backward toward Xavier. I furrowed my brows and
shook my head once. Surely, he could see Chay and I were together.
Why would he ask me to have lunch with him? Was he flirting like
Chay insisted or was it just an innocent invitation? Either way, my
answer was the same.
No
. Chay and I had lunch with the other
demi-angels every afternoon anyway.
***
“So I heard you had visitors last night?”
Muriel asked when I saw her in calculus.
I dropped my books on the table and slid onto
the seat next to her. “Yeah.”
“I wonder why they’re back? It’s not like
Azazel can do anything to you.”
“No. But he can target the group.”
“Hmm, true. Even so, I think we’re fine. They
just want to cause trouble. Any visions?”
“Just the usual stuff.”
“Then I wouldn’t worry too much about the
little red goblins.” Muriel opened her binder and pulled out her
homework.
I’m not so sure. Whenever we start to feel
comfortable is when Azazel has the best chance of turning one of
the group against us.
“I guess not.” I looked at Chay sitting a few
rows in front of me. His blue-green eyes bored into mine.
“You’re not so sure we don’t have anything to
worry about when it comes to Azazel, are you?” I asked him after
class.