Wicked Wings

8

“I suggest you avoid them, if you can.”

Following the path, we curl around the bell tower but not out of their sight, unfortunately. “Why are they called the Princes?”

“They’re basically angel royalty. All of them have at least one Archangel for a parent.” When I look confused, she explains, “Archangels are the oldest and most powerful of all angels, and the seven of them form the council that rules over us—which means those three men basically rule the school. They can do anything they want and get away with it.”

I’m tempted to look back at the men again, but I restrain myself, even though I can feel the weight of their gazes upon me still. “Are they really so bad?”

“They didn’t used to be. I was once close with them.” Her eyes drop and her smile falls. “But something happened at the end of last term and everything changed.” She takes a breath. “As I said, it’s best you avoid them.”

“I’ll try.” Except avoiding them isn’t in the cards. They must know something about my brother’s disappearance, and I’m going to find out what it is. “Do they always perch up there like crows?” “Most of the time. They’ve claimed the bell tower as their own. That building they’re in is the main hall, where most of your classes will be. Anything that requires sitting at a desk will be in there. I can show you around the rest of the campus too if you’d like.”

I give her a warm smile. “That would be great.”

She leads me down a path next to the large green lawn, toward the lake and other buildings in the distance. Students sit together on the grass or stretch out under the sun with their eyes closed, wings out and fluttering in the breeze as they enjoy a peaceful moment before classes begin. For a moment, I envy them. They don’t have to lie about who they are or hide their true nature from everyone around them. They don’t have to worry about what will happen if they get caught.

“That’s the gym over there,” Grace says, breaking me out of my thoughts. She’s pointing at a large building beside a big field near the lake. “Combat Training classes are all held in there or on the field. You’ll also be taking Flight classes there or at the lake.”

I let out a nervous laugh. “Combat? Flight? s**t. I am totally unprepared for these classes. I’ve never fought anyone before, and I’m scared of heights.”

“Don’t worry, many people arrive here not knowing how to fly or fight. You’ll get the hang of it all soon enough. What other classes do you have?”

I pull out my class schedule. “Angelic History and Demon Studies.”

She nods as we continue down the path. “Every year you’ll take Angelic History and Combat Training, and each year you’ll have to take a Supernatural Studies course, but the order you take them in doesn’t matter. Most of us take Demon Studies first so we know what we’re up against.”

I hold up a hand to stop her. “Hang on. Demons are real?”

She blinks at me. “Of course they are.”

“Wow. Okay.” I suck in a breath. “Sorry, this is all new to me. A week ago, I thought the world was full of humans and that was it, and now I learn there are not only angels, but demons too.”

“And fae,” Grace added. “Although they prefer to stay in their own realm, so you probably won’t ever encounter one. Don’t worry about them for now.”

“Good idea. My head is spinning enough as it is.” The lie is easy, always so easy, especially with Mother’s necklace on. I can hear her voice in my head now. “One of the best ways to seduce someone—or deceive them—is to pretend you’re not very smart or capable. People are always quick to believe someone is dumber than they are, especially when you’re a woman. You can use that to your advantage.”

Grace gives me a smile that is almost pitying. “I’m sure this must be very overwhelming for you. Oh, you should also have a class based on your Choir.” She glances over at my schedule. “That’s odd. It says, ‘to be determined.’ Do you have any idea what type of angel you are?”

“Um, I didn’t even know there were types of angels.”

“There are four Choirs, and all angels belong to one of them depending on how they control light,” she explains with the patience of a saint. “Erelim create a burning light that can injure others, sort of like a laser. Malakim use light to heal the body and mind and can make plants grow too. Ishim, like me, manipulate light to make themselves and other objects invisible. And Ofanim use the light of truth to sense lies, see through illusions and glamour, and some of them can even see the future on rare occasions.”

“How would I know which one I am?” I ask as we continue down the path.

“It’s genetic, so people take after one of their parents.”

“No luck there. I grew up in foster care. They told me my father was an angel, but I never met him, and my mother was human.”

“That could make this more challenging. Have you noticed any magic since getting your wings? Anything unusual?”

“Nope. Nothing.” Lies, lies, lies. They’re just rolling off my tongue now.

She shrugs. “Sometimes it takes longer. You don’t need to worry. The professors here will help you figure it out.”

I sigh. “Or maybe since I’m half-human I won’t have any of these powers.”