Wicked Wings

15

I shiver a little as that intense gaze falls on me and lingers there. The hair on my arm stands up, and in his eyes I’m faced with a vast, unknowable intelligence from centuries of living. I have the sense that Uriel can see into my very soul, and I’m terrified of what he might find. My necklace should protect me, but I can’t help but clutch it and silently pray it’s working, until Uriel finally moves his gaze to the next student. Only then can I breathe again, but I’m still rattled by the brief encounter.

“Welcome to Seraphim Academy,” Uriel says, his voice reaching across the room even without a microphone. It’s not loud or commanding, yet somehow we can all hear it perfectly as though we’re in an intimate conversation with him. Archangels and their tricks. “I am Headmaster Uriel and it’s my privilege to oversee Seraphim Academy as another term begins. I welcome both our new students and our returning students, and I’d like to go over a few things before you begin classes tomorrow. “First, let me tell you a little about the school, for those of you who are new. Seraphim Academy was originally established in 1921, when many angels fled Heaven for Earth. This was the first mass exodus of angels, and there were very few angels who attended the school then—fourteen to be exact. Yet the school continued to grow as more and more angels fled the devastating war in Heaven, which of course culminated in the Earth Accords thirty-two years ago. At that point the school expanded dramatically, and every year it grows as more angels are born on Earth. This year we’ve set a new record with four hundred twelve students from all around the world, and we’ve added a few new professors to our roster as a result. I’d like to ask them to join us on stage so I can introduce them to you now.”

He turns to the side as four people walk onto the stage. My gaze skims across the line of professors until my eyes stumble and trip over a man near the end. He’s devastatingly handsome, with almost-black hair, dark stubble trailing down his jaw, and piercing green eyes. He’s far too good-looking for any teacher to reasonably be, with a mouth made for kissing and a strong body that begs to be touched. I should know.

My breath catches in my throat as he gazes across the audience, and I sink down a little in my seat so he won’t see me. At first I tell myself it can’t be him. There’s no way my luck is this bad, but there’s no denying it. It’s him.

I start to get up without realizing what I’m doing, and only Araceli’s hand on my arm stops me. “What are you doing?” she whispers.

I shake my head, not really sure what I’m doing, only that my heart is pounding out of my chest, and I need to get out of here as fast as I possibly can, except doing so will only draw more attention to myself, and that’s the absolute last thing I want at this moment. s**t.

I slump back down. It’s fine. Maybe I can avoid him, and nothing bad will happen. There are lots of professors here, and I only have four classes, or maybe five if they figure out what type of angel I am. What’s the chance that he’ll be my professor?

Uriel gestures at the man I can’t take my eyes off of. “I’d like to introduce Professor Kassiel, who will be teaching Angelic History at Seraphim Academy for all First Years.”

Shit, s**t, s**t. There’s no way I can get out of him being my teacher. This is bad, really bad.

Because I know him.

Intimately.

And worst of all, he knows me too.

He knows my secret.

He knows what I really am.

I’m screwed.

Chapter Ten

Olivia

F

our months ago

T

he bar is dead tonight, and I’m starting to think I might go to bed alone and hungry, until a man walks in who makes me suck in my breath. I would have taken anyone at this point, man or woman, no matter what they looked like, but an attractive person definitely makes what I have to do easier. And this guy? Damn. I lick my lips in anticipation as he approaches the bar.

He’s wearing a black three-piece suit that I bet cost more than my monthly rent—which isn’t cheap, since this is Los Angeles and all—and it fits him like it was tailored for his body. And wow, what a body it is. Broad shoulders. Tall but not too tall. A tapered waist that makes me think he’s got a six pack under there. I’m planning to find out soon enough.

He removes his jacket and folds it neatly over the back of the bar chair. Now in only his white shirt and charcoal tie, he rolls up his sleeves to his elbows slowly, revealing masculine wrists and strong, sexy forearms. Why is it guys are so much sexier when they roll up their sleeves like that? I nearly leap over the bar and jump him right there. He’s one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen, and trust me, I’ve known plenty of gorgeous men…intimately. This guy puts them all to shame, and I can’t even put my finger on why. There’s something about him that draws me in like no one else has done before.

His hair is short, thick, and a brown so dark it looks black until the light hits it. He has matching stubble across his face, but it’s his eyes that really get me. They’re green, a lot like mine actually, and there’s something about him that feels familiar and makes him irresistible. He’s exactly what I need.

Our eyes hold for a little longer than normal, and I wonder if he feels this strange connection too. s****l tension simmers between us without even a word spoken. For a second I wonder if he’s like me, but then I dismiss that thought. I wouldn’t be able to feed on another Lilim, and I can already feel a trickle of his delicious lust giving me a touch of strength.