Wicked Wings

22

Which happens to me, over and over. Tanwen is intense, and taking me down isn’t even a challenge for her. Meanwhile Araceli and Darel are giggling as they roll around on the mat, and I don’t even need to be a succubus to feel the lust between them. I try not to pout, but why can’t I be paired up with a hot guy, instead of being a Valkyrie punching bag?

Callan walks over as I hit the floor again, this time with a kick that sweeps out my feet from under me. I hit my side this time and Tanwen just shakes her head.

“I see you’re putting the half-human through the ringer,” Callan says, as he towers over me. From this angle I have a nice view of his very firm legs, at least.

“Of course I am,” Tanwen says, flipping back her ponytail. “How else is she going to learn?”

“True, although I’m not sure she can get a blow in,” Callan says.

Tanwen shrugs. “I’m not trying to teach her combat skills. I’m trying to show her she doesn’t belong here.”

I drag myself back to my feet. “That’s what everyone keeps telling me, but I’m still here.”

“This is only the first day,” Callan says. “It’ll be a miracle if you survive the week.”

If I thought I might get any help from Callan in his role as assistant, I was wrong. He turns back to Tanwen and nods. “Impressive form. I can see you’ve been practicing.”

“Always,” she practically purrs. She’s giving him a flirtatious smile and some f**k-me eyes. “How are you doing, anyway? It’s been way too long since we hung out. We should get dinner sometime. Now that I’m a student here we can catch up.”

“Catching up would be good,” he says, but then he looks at me, and I know he doesn’t want her, not like she wants him. Nope, as hard as he might deny it, his lust is directed at me and not her. It’s enough to heal my aches and take the pain away, and I stretch my arms and neck with relief.

He walks away, and Tanwen looks like a cat who just caught a mouse as she grins at me. “Ready for another go? Since I’m in such a good mood, I might even let you get a blow in.”

Spoiler alert: she doesn’t.

Chapter Fourteen

Olivia

T

here’s a short break to rest and lick our wounds, and then it’s time for my next class, which is Flight. We stay in the same gym uniforms but head outside by the lake, and I’m so exhausted from Tanwen beating me up that I don’t have to pretend very hard that I don’t know how to fly. This first day is mostly an introduction to the idea of flight, where the professor makes sure we all know how to extend and retract our wings without a problem. Most of the class doesn’t have a problem with this, although I put up a good show that I’m having trouble, and Tanwen rolls her eyes and whispers to her friends about me. I ignore their catty looks. I want everyone to underestimate me, even if it’s frustrating sometimes. At least there are no Princes in this class.

After Flight ends, we have a longer break to catch lunch, and I change into some fresh clothes after taking a shower. I eat a sandwich, chug some coffee from my I’m a f*****g angel mug, and then I head off to Demon Studies.

This class is held on the second floor of the main hall, and as I enter the large gothic church-like building I can’t forget my first day here when the Princes swooped down on me from the bell tower. None of them do that this time, presumably because they’re all in class, which is a relief.

I notice the looks and the whispers as I head up the stairs, and wonder how long they will last. I keep my head high as I walk along the white stone floors, but when I enter the room I stop in my tracks—because Marcus is inside, sitting at one of the desks. And worst of all, the only open seat is directly behind him. So much for avoiding the Princes.

I refuse to let them intimidate me, so I walk toward the desk with outward confidence, even if I’m faltering a little inside. I remind myself that I need to get information from them, so maybe it won’t be too bad having them in my classes after all, and Marcus seems like the most tolerable one. He gives me a little nod as I pass him, which I ignore. His dark hair is especially wild today, and as I sit behind him I can’t help but notice how rich and luscious it looks. He’s got hair a girl could envy. Or daydream about running her fingers through. Not that I’m doing that. Nope.

The professor walks in, and he’s wearing a bowtie covered with tiny lightning bolts, making me think of Harry Potter. He’s got on a dapper little suit to match it in off-white, and I wouldn’t be surprised if his wings were the same color. He has a kind smile and bright blue eyes, with salt and pepper hair.

“Welcome to Demon Studies,” he says. “I assume you’re all here for Demon Studies anyway. If you’re not, then you should hurry and find your actual class before it’s too late. You definitely don’t want to be late on your first day of class, after all!” He claps his hands together. “Now, as long as we’re all in the right place I’d like to go over a little of what you can expect here. This is one of the only classes that has students from all three years in it, just like the other Supernatural Studies courses. Some of you I recognize from last year’s Fae Studies course, and it’s good to see you again.” He does a little wave. “To the rest of you, I am Professor Raziel, and it is my pleasure to meet you all. I can’t wait to help you learn about demons, our ancient enemy.” He makes it sound like he’s talking about teaching us to make a pie, and not about the denizens from Hell that angels have been fighting for thousands of years.