Fallen Academy: Year Four (Fallen Academy 4)

One

Lincoln’s back leaned against the campus building, while he looked at me wide-eyed. “You’re going to take training lessons from a fifteen-year-old?” He raised a skeptical eyebrow.

We’d been married two weeks now, and already he wasn’t happy with my training. He wanted Archangel Michael and himself to teach me to defeat the Devil, but I knew there was something special about Emberly. I wanted to work with her, especially since Michael had said she could mimic Lucifer’s mind control.

“Did you even meet her while I was gone? She’s super powerful.” We tried not to talk about our time apart, but some things needed to be asked.

He shrugged. “Briefly. She’s badass, I get it, but she’s still learning. I don’t think she’s the best one to train you.”

The door to the gym opened suddenly, and Emberly peeked her head out, glaring at us. “I can totally hear you, and a deal’s a deal. Your woman already agreed, so get your asses inside. I only have an hour.”

Lincoln seemed shocked at her attitude, but I just grinned. I liked her more and more each time I saw her.

Lincoln and I had a mini honeymoon of lazing around the trailer, while I settled into the last month of my third-year classes. Raphael had signed a special permission slip, saying I could skip most of year three, as I’d learned enough skills in Hell to pass the testing. It was probably a crock of shit that Lincoln begged him to do, but I was grateful. I wanted to be in classes with Shea, Chloe, Luke and even Tiffany’s annoying ass.

It made me feel normal.

When you accidentally made a pact with the Devil, to break open the gates of Heaven for him, normal was a welcome relief. I was waiting for the right time to talk to Lincoln about getting Sera back and breaking Raksha out, but I figured if I mastered mental control, that would convince him I could go back down there with a team of Fallen Army soldiers.

As I walked into the gymnasium, Emberly spun around and faced me. “So, what was San Francisco like? Still a shithole? I can’t believe you bailed your man out. That’s so cool.”

Lincoln tensed a little at the whole ‘bailed your man out’ thing, but I just chuckled.

“It was… dark and scary, but we all made it out.”

She nodded, but then a serious look crossed over her features. “I heard you brought back a bunch of… slaves,” she said the word like it was painful.

It was.

It killed me to think about how many had been left behind—in a different kind of hell. “Yeah. As many as we could, anyway.”

Emberly’s eyes focused on Lincoln, who was standing there with his arms crossed, and a stoic expression on his face. “You’re a captain! You could amass the Fallen Army and storm the city, take it back for our side, and free everyone.”

The fire in her eyes reminded me of my own passions, but her ideas, although noble, were too far-fetched. San Francisco had been way too dangerous. Even if we wanted to—which we did, of course—there was no way we had the numbers to pull off something like that.

Lincoln scoffed. “Pull the army that guards these walls, and put them all at risk on a whim that we could overtake San Francisco? Angel City could fall in the process!”

Swallowing hard, Emberly crossed her arms to match his stance. “Great risks can reap great rewards. If I were captain, I’d pull half the army and storm in there, guns blazing. If the demons didn’t cooperate, I’d kill them all, and set the city on fire after evacuating the innocent.”

A grin took over my lips at the little spitfire. She was adorable, like a mini temperamental Michael.

Lincoln just shook his head. “One day, if you make captain, you’ll see that we don’t have the resources for that, and that great risks can also reap great death.”

She frowned, but chose not to reply.

In her silence, I found myself staring at the metal and leather cage straps on Emberly’s wings. They were like medieval braces you would put on someone’s legs. Lincoln followed my gaze, and I wondered if he had the same questions I did. Did they retract like mine? Or remain out like her father’s?

When Emberly caught us both looking, she rolled her eyes. “Wondering about my wing braces?”

Oh, shit. I blanched, looking at the floor. “No, just checking out your cool glowing hair,” I lied.

She chuckled. “When my dad fell for my human mother, right after the Fallen War, I don’t think he knew his offspring had the potential to be deformed.”

Deformed. It was an awful word, and I didn’t know what to say in response.

“Do they hurt?” Lincoln asked, with more compassion in his voice than I expected.

Something dark crossed her face. “Every moment of every day.”

Shit.

“Do the braces help?” While she was on the topic of her wings, I figured I’d ask the burning questions I had, for as long as she’d let me.

Sighing, she slightly shrugged. “Sort of. My angelic form keeps repairing itself every second, but the wings are too heavy for my frail human half, so the bones keep fracturing. The braces keep some of the weight off. Kind of like a bra.”

Oh God. I couldn’t imagine how she managed to go through each day in that kind of pain, and still have a smile on her face most of the time.

“Can you fly?” Lincoln stepped closer. I knew the “fixer” in him wanted to aid her now, maybe even try to heal her.

She stiffened at his sudden movement. “With a handful of painkillers, yeah.”

Oh my God. An angel who couldn’t really fly? That was the most awful thing I’d ever heard.

Silence descended on our little group. Lincoln scuffed the toe of his shoe along the floor, as I brushed imaginary lint off my clothes.

“Done feeling sorry for me?” Emberly asked after a few moments, uncrossing her arms, and standing with one hip cocked out, a hand propped on it.

Unsure of what to say, we just nodded.

“Good, because I have a shitload of cool powers too, and my mom told me to never feel sorry for myself. There’s always someone worse off,” she stated sagely.

That girl was wise beyond her years, that was for sure.

“How should we begin?” I asked. Was she going to go inside my mind? She’d said something before about making me bark like a dog, but I sincerely hoped she was kidding.

As she stood there, the tattoos on her arms moved up and down, swirling in random patterns. They glowed as if they were actually made of light. “You want to learn to withstand mind control, right?” she queried.

I nodded.

Something flashed in her eyes, a purplish silver. It was only for a split second, but I’d definitely seen it.

“Kneel,” she commanded, and my knees suddenly gave out, forcing me to splay my hands out to catch myself from falling on my face. I went down on all fours, heart pounding. It felt exactly like what Lucifer did, but he never spoke; he would just think it and I’d be crossing the room toward him, against my will.

“Holy shit. Did you just force her to do that?” Lincoln walked a circle around Emberly, looking her up and down as if it would reveal some great secret.

The teenager nodded. “My dad says it’s like the cardinal rule of being an angel to never ever use it against a human, to never take their free will. So, I’ve only practiced it a few times with my best friend, Mel—when she was willing.”

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Lincoln’s back leaned against the campus building, while he looked at me wide-eyed. “You’re going to take training lessons from a fifteen-year-old?” He raised a skeptical eyebrow.

We’d been married two weeks now, and already he wasn’t happy with my training. He wanted Archangel Michael and himself to teach me to defeat the Devil, but I knew there was something special about Emberly. I wanted to work with her, especially since Michael had said she could mimic Lucifer’s mind control.

“Did you even meet her while I was gone? She’s super powerful.” We tried not to talk about our time apart, but some things needed to be asked.

He shrugged. “Briefly. She’s badass, I get it, but she’s still learning. I don’t think she’s the best one to train you.”

The door to the gym opened suddenly, and Emberly peeked her head out, glaring at us. “I can totally hear you, and a deal’s a deal. Your woman already agreed, so get your asses inside. I only have an hour.”

Lincoln seemed shocked at her attitude, but I just grinned. I liked her more and more each time I saw her.

Lincoln and I had a mini honeymoon of lazing around the trailer, while I settled into the last month of my third-year classes. Raphael had signed a special permission slip, saying I could skip most of year three, as I’d learned enough skills in Hell to pass the testing. It was probably a crock of shit that Lincoln begged him to do, but I was grateful. I wanted to be in classes with Shea, Chloe, Luke and even Tiffany’s annoying ass.

It made me feel normal.

When you accidentally made a pact with the Devil, to break open the gates of Heaven for him, normal was a welcome relief. I was waiting for the right time to talk to Lincoln about getting Sera back and breaking Raksha out, but I figured if I mastered mental control, that would convince him I could go back down there with a team of Fallen Army soldiers.

As I walked into the gymnasium, Emberly spun around and faced me. “So, what was San Francisco like? Still a shithole? I can’t believe you bailed your man out. That’s so cool.”

Lincoln tensed a little at the whole ‘bailed your man out’ thing, but I just chuckled.

“It was… dark and scary, but we all made it out.”

She nodded, but then a serious look crossed over her features. “I heard you brought back a bunch of… slaves,” she said the word like it was painful.

It was.

It killed me to think about how many had been left behind—in a different kind of hell. “Yeah. As many as we could, anyway.”

Emberly’s eyes focused on Lincoln, who was standing there with his arms crossed, and a stoic expression on his face. “You’re a captain! You could amass the Fallen Army and storm the city, take it back for our side, and free everyone.”

The fire in her eyes reminded me of my own passions, but her ideas, although noble, were too far-fetched. San Francisco had been way too dangerous. Even if we wanted to—which we did, of course—there was no way we had the numbers to pull off something like that.

Lincoln scoffed. “Pull the army that guards these walls, and put them all at risk on a whim that we could overtake San Francisco? Angel City could fall in the process!”

Swallowing hard, Emberly crossed her arms to match his stance. “Great risks can reap great rewards. If I were captain, I’d pull half the army and storm in there, guns blazing. If the demons didn’t cooperate, I’d kill them all, and set the city on fire after evacuating the innocent.”

A grin took over my lips at the little spitfire. She was adorable, like a mini temperamental Michael.

Lincoln just shook his head. “One day, if you make captain, you’ll see that we don’t have the resources for that, and that great risks can also reap great death.”

She frowned, but chose not to reply.

In her silence, I found myself staring at the metal and leather cage straps on Emberly’s wings. They were like medieval braces you would put on someone’s legs. Lincoln followed my gaze, and I wondered if he had the same questions I did. Did they retract like mine? Or remain out like her father’s?

When Emberly caught us both looking, she rolled her eyes. “Wondering about my wing braces?”

Oh, shit. I blanched, looking at the floor. “No, just checking out your cool glowing hair,” I lied.

She chuckled. “When my dad fell for my human mother, right after the Fallen War, I don’t think he knew his offspring had the potential to be deformed.”

Deformed. It was an awful word, and I didn’t know what to say in response.

“Do they hurt?” Lincoln asked, with more compassion in his voice than I expected.

Something dark crossed her face. “Every moment of every day.”

Shit.

“Do the braces help?” While she was on the topic of her wings, I figured I’d ask the burning questions I had, for as long as she’d let me.

Sighing, she slightly shrugged. “Sort of. My angelic form keeps repairing itself every second, but the wings are too heavy for my frail human half, so the bones keep fracturing. The braces keep some of the weight off. Kind of like a bra.”

Oh God. I couldn’t imagine how she managed to go through each day in that kind of pain, and still have a smile on her face most of the time.

“Can you fly?” Lincoln stepped closer. I knew the “fixer” in him wanted to aid her now, maybe even try to heal her.

She stiffened at his sudden movement. “With a handful of painkillers, yeah.”

Oh my God. An angel who couldn’t really fly? That was the most awful thing I’d ever heard.

Silence descended on our little group. Lincoln scuffed the toe of his shoe along the floor, as I brushed imaginary lint off my clothes.

“Done feeling sorry for me?” Emberly asked after a few moments, uncrossing her arms, and standing with one hip cocked out, a hand propped on it.

Unsure of what to say, we just nodded.

“Good, because I have a shitload of cool powers too, and my mom told me to never feel sorry for myself. There’s always someone worse off,” she stated sagely.

That girl was wise beyond her years, that was for sure.

“How should we begin?” I asked. Was she going to go inside my mind? She’d said something before about making me bark like a dog, but I sincerely hoped she was kidding.

As she stood there, the tattoos on her arms moved up and down, swirling in random patterns. They glowed as if they were actually made of light. “You want to learn to withstand mind control, right?” she queried.

I nodded.

Something flashed in her eyes, a purplish silver. It was only for a split second, but I’d definitely seen it.

“Kneel,” she commanded, and my knees suddenly gave out, forcing me to splay my hands out to catch myself from falling on my face. I went down on all fours, heart pounding. It felt exactly like what Lucifer did, but he never spoke; he would just think it and I’d be crossing the room toward him, against my will.

“Holy shit. Did you just force her to do that?” Lincoln walked a circle around Emberly, looking her up and down as if it would reveal some great secret.

The teenager nodded. “My dad says it’s like the cardinal rule of being an angel to never ever use it against a human, to never take their free will. So, I’ve only practiced it a few times with my best friend, Mel—when she was willing.”