Diabolical (10 page)

“Andrew,” I add, “is our mystery man. And given Nigel’s history with animal sacrifice, he might be an excellent fit for the school.”

“The way Nigel was acting,” Zach begins, moving to the window, “that wasn’t hooray-for-hell drunk. That was my-life-is-over-so-I-might-as-well-get-smashed drunk.”

I don’t know what difference it makes. We have to warn the students. All of them. A few might already know what they’re in for. Someone might sound an alarm or try to block our escape. But what else can we do? “You realize you’re stalling, right?” I ask. “You could be talking to Lucy right now. We could take it from there.”

“How do I convince her? How do I convince any of them to leave?”

We could’ve had this conversation on the road. Zach has spent most of his existence watching over his assignments. Invisible. Incorporeal. Silent. He hasn’t been earthbound for even two years. His social skills are a work in progress.

“Why not bust out your wings?” I suggest. “That’s old-school convincing. Like, ‘Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take to you Mary your wife, for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit.’ Or, ‘Hey, Lucy, if we don’t vamoose, your soul may be taken in sacrifice by el diablo.’” Some news is easier to sell when it comes from an angel of the Lord.

Zach taps on the glass wall. “We could all stroll quietly out of here tonight. I could maintain my secret identity through an entire crisis. I want to try that first.”

“All right,” I reply. “But remember, Scholomance is like the serpent in the tree of knowledge. It promises to reveal great mysteries. For Lucy, what happened to Miranda is the ultimate question. You can give her the answer.
Scientia potentia est.
”

He sets his mug on the desk. “Come again?”

“Knowledge is power.”

We hear a knock on my door. From the other side, Vesper calls, “Kieren!”

When I answer, she’s standing there with Bridget and Evelyn.

“Do you have cell reception in your room?” Bridget asks.

I fish my phone out of my pocket and try it. “Apparently not.”

Vesper’s sigh borders on dramatic. “I cannot believe this! What are we, prisoners? Don’t the Geneva Conventions guarantee access to —”

“The school is remote,” Bridget puts in.

“Vermont remote, not Antarctica remote,” Evelyn counters.

ON A HUNCH
, I unzip Kieren’s bag. His axe is missing. I brush past him and the girls into my own room. When I check my hanging garment bag, my holy sword is gone, too.

Crap. Would I recognize Lucifer? I don’t know. Probably not. Would his minions recognize a sword forged in heaven? Maybe. No matter that I’m immortal. Michael will
find
a way to kill me for this. I glance at the devilish print over my fireplace.

I’d swear it’s grinning wider.

Back in the hall, Kieren shakes his head at me. It’s bad news. Our weapons have been confiscated. The holy symbols, too.

The girls are still fixated on the phone issue.

“I can’t log on to the Web from my laptop either,” Bridget says, “and I’m supposed to call my parents tonight before I go to bed.”

Vesper counters, “Big deal. I’m supposed to call my boyfriend.”

“Well, I’m supposed to call my girlfriend,” Evelyn says, “and you don’t see me having a meltdown over it.”

Kieren frowns at Vesper. “You have a boyfriend?”

She winks at him. “He knew I was a flirt when he fell in love with me.”

I decide to talk to Lucy first, alone. Then I’ll confront the other students. After a quick shower, I’m dressed and ready to go.

“What are you doing?” a voice asks. “You had to fake being a student to get through security. Sure. But why are you still here? Grab Kieren, find Lucy, go, go,
go
!” Joshua has materialized on the recliner. His feet are propped up. He’s painted his toenails silver and gold to match his fingernails and sandals.

I rub my temples. “You know it’s not that simple. We can’t kidnap her. I have to find the right words. I have to convince her. Then she has to choose —”

“Normally, I’d agree with you,” Josh says. “Rules good. Kidnapping bad. But oh yeah, this isn’t a normal situation.”

“No,” I agree. “In addition to Lucy, I’m also dealing with these other kids who —”

“Are not your responsibility!” Josh exclaims, standing. “Your interference could make things worse for all of them. Did you think of that?”

What is with him? “At Drac Radford’s castle, you not only supported my rescuing the prisoners in the dungeon, you demanded to know what was taking me so long.”

“That was different! Michael ordered you to go to the castle. You were supposed to be there. It was your principle assignment, and it was vague. You had wiggle room. Right now, Quincie is your specific, principle assignment, and she’s cooling her heels solo at Norma and Harry’s B and B, watching
Dead Poets Society,
and counting the minutes until you and Wolf boy return. Go guard her.”

“But —”

“Dude, look at where you are, what you’re doing!” Josh points to the
Codex Gigas
illustration hanging above the fireplace. “Freaking Beelzebub is your interior decorator!” He pauses, taking in the art. “I didn’t realize he had a sense of humor.”

“So does the Big Boss,” I say. “Consider the platypus.” I move to clasp Josh’s shoulders. “Look, you’re the one who told me about Lucy in the first place. Miranda asked that I save her, but you passed on the message.”

Josh shrugs me off. “I know, and I feel terrible about the whole thing. I’ve been putting off filing my latest report to Michael.” He sighs. “If you don’t skedaddle ASAP, when the archangel finds out . . . Zachary, he’s totally gunning for your ass. Having slipped is one thing, but because of this mess, you could fall all the way down.”

“That’s not up to Michael,” I say. “He’s higher ranked than us. He puts the Word into action. When it comes to GAs, day to day, he’s in charge. But whether I’m eternally cast out of heaven, that’s between me and the Big Boss.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” Josh says. “Meanwhile, I’m praying for you.”

MIRANDA READ FANTASY
. Lucy watched horror flicks. Miranda shrank in the face of their high-school queen bee. Lucy was immune to social politics. Miranda treasured a blanket knitted by Grandma Peggy and her stuffed toy penguin from SeaWorld. Lucy decorated her bedroom with the impressions of old tombstones made with colored pencils and paper. Would they have become friends at all if they’d met later in life? It doesn’t matter. When you’re friends with someone that long, they’re like family.

Lucy opens her door before I knock on it. “You’re not wearing a dress this time.” She’s talking about the standard GA uniform — the white robes I had on when we met.

“Sorry I never returned your coat,” I reply.

“Did you bring it with you?”

I dimly recall giving it to someone at a homeless shelter in Dallas. “Uh, no.”

I join her in a private room identical to the rest. My gaze rests on the print from the
Codex Gigas.
It’s creepy how it’s everywhere.

Lucy shuts her door. “Start talking.”

“You may want to sit down.”

She doesn’t.

I don’t blame her for being pissed. “Do you know what Scholomance Prep is? Who’s behind this school?”

Her hand still on the knob, she replies, “It’s a demonic institution in terms of fields of study, ownership, and origin. Or at least that’s what I read on the de Nostredame group message board, heard at the Dallas metropolitan chapter meeting of the Nosferatu Studies Society, and confirmed via
Baba-Yaga’s Junior Encyclopedia.
When I asked Seth whether I would find out here what had happened to Miranda that night in Dallas, he said yes.”

I don’t get it. Lucy may have been gleefully fascinated by the eerie — monster movies and Goth fashion, though she only dabbled in the latter. But only when it was make-believe. Dress up. In fun. “So why are you —”

“Seth promised me answers. Everyone says I have to face that I’ll probably never see her again. But what if they’re wrong? What if she needs me?”

“The best way to be her friend is to leave. Tonight. Would Miranda want you to stay in a place like this?”

“What do you know about Miranda?” Lucy demands. “Who are you, Zachary — if that’s your real name? Why were you at the cemetery? Why are you here?”

I take a step closer. “That night, you said that if there were monsters, there must be heroes. I frightened away the vamp then, and I’m here to rescue you now.”

“What?”

“If there are demons,” I say, “there must be angels.” Josh was right. We don’t have time to debate. I’ve always sucked at the whole secret-identity thing anyway. I move to the center of the room, in front of the angled desk.

I show my wings. “I was Miranda’s guardian angel.”

Lucy recoils, her back flat against the door.

“W-was?” she finally stammers.

That would be the part she’d zero in on. I hide my wings again. “I’ll tell you what I can, but —”

“Prove it.” Lucy slowly passes by me. “Prove that you’re Miranda’s guardian angel. Tell me something that only Miranda’s angel would know.”

My mind goes blank. “Her parents were divorced. It wasn’t . . . amicable.”

“Anyone could find that out. The local church ladies knew more details.”

I try again. “She had a gerbil named Mr. Nesbit.”

Lucy pauses, then gestures to me to move on.

“She had a crush on Geoff Calvo. She dreamed of being an actress. She was bullied by Denise Durant. She listened to Christian rock and used lemongrass bodywash —”

“That’s kind of personal.” Lucy sinks to the corner of the bed. “The bodywash. But anyone in her gym class could’ve told you that.” She shifts her weight. “Geoff went missing, too. Did you have something to do with that?”

As Kieren would say,
Scientia potentia est.
“Miranda was taken by a vamp named Radford, the reigning king of his kind. He made her undead and claimed her as his adopted daughter. An Old Blood vamp aristocrat named Sabine presented Calvo to then-princess Miranda as a gift.”

Lucy laughs. “Vampire princess? Miranda? Don’t get me wrong. I love — loved — that girl more than anybody, but she wasn’t exactly royalty material.”

I throw up my hands. “You don’t believe me?”

“I believe you’re a supernatural being. I believe you’re a supernatural being that I first encountered in a dark cemetery crawling with bloodsuckers and am meeting again at a Scholomance institution. That says demon to me.”

I’m flabbergasted. “Didn’t you see my wings?”

“Vampires and demons can have wings.” She nods at her skewed logic. “Like in the movie
Van Helsing.
” She points to the depiction of Lucifer over the fireplace. “Maybe not that one, but you can make yours appear and disappear. Maybe he can, too.”

“Demons have scaly, dragonlike, clawed wings,” I counter. “Not gleaming, white, eagle-like . . . pretty wings.”

That sounded lame.
Luminous
is the word Quincie uses. I should have said that. “Vamps have wings only in bat form, and only Old Bloods can achieve that. I have a pulse. You’re welcome to check. There’s no way I could be —”

“Lying?” Lucy stands. “Deceitful. Hiding an ugly nature behind a . . . pretty face?”

That’s it! I grab Lucy, toss her over my shoulder, and, halfway down the hall, shout, “Kieren!” Meanwhile, Lucy kicks. She yells to be set down. She pounds on my back.

Other students pour into the hall. The Wolf grabs her legs and we duck into the elevator. “Lucy already knew about the school,” I say. “She’s willing to risk staying to get answers about Miranda.”

Kieren stares at Lucy like she’s insane. “Didn’t you tell her . . .”

“I tried. She just started bitching me out and —”

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here!” Lucy exclaims.

The elevator reaches the first floor and opens. Bridget, Vesper, and Evelyn are blocking our way to the front door. That leaves Willa and Nigel, probably passed out in their rooms, and Andrew, who likely couldn’t care less. I’ll worry about them later.

“Put her down!” Vesper says.

“She’s claustrophobic,” Kieren replies, pushing through. “She’ll calm down once we get her some fresh air.”