Seraphim Academy 1: Wicked Wings Page 5

  “Anything,” I said.

  Jonah pulled out the photo and handed it to Callan. “If this girl ever shows up at Seraphim Academy, you need to make her leave, however you can. It isn’t safe for her here.”

  “What are you talking about?” I learned over to look at the photo. I was immediately struck by the girl’s beauty and intrigued by her.

  “Who is she?” Bastien asked.

  “I can’t tell you that,” Jonah said.

  I raised an eyebrow. “New girlfriend maybe? Should Grace be worried?”

  Jonah shook his head. “Just promise me you’ll do whatever it takes to get her away from this place—for her own good.”

  I realized then how serious Jonah was, and how worried he looked. He must care about this girl. I thumped him on the back, trying to make him feel better and bring some levity to the situation. “Hey man, we promise.”

  “Thanks. I knew I could count on you guys.”

  “We made a promise to him,” Callan says, bringing me back to the present. “We said we’d do whatever it takes, and we will.”

  I stand up and let my wings unfurl. “Yes, we did, but that doesn’t mean I agree with your methods. But fine, bully her into leaving if you think that will work. Bastien can try to uncover all her dark secrets. I’ll handle her my own way.”

  “Yeah, we all know how you handle women,” Callan snarls.

  I give him a wry grin. “Then you know I’m damn good at it.”

  I leap off the edge of the bell tower and spread my wings, letting the cool night air filter through them and lift me up. It’s a short flight to the dorms, and though I could fly directly into my room through the balcony door, I decide to land on the ground and walk into the common area first. Maybe the woman in question—Olivia—will be there, and I can figure out what to do about her.

  I pass by the common room and flash a dazzling smile at a few ladies I pass by, but none of them is the one I’m looking for tonight. A few of them give me seductive glances, and I could probably take one of them up to my room if I wanted, but I’m not feeling it. Truth is, I haven’t been all that interested in women since that incident with Grace after Jonah disappeared. Until now. One glance at Olivia changed all of that.

  On the other hand, it’ll be rough heading back to that empty suite tonight. I hadn’t realized how hard it would be until we returned for this term and I saw Jonah’s door wide open, with all his things still inside. Bringing someone back to my room suddenly sounds like a good plan after all. But then the guilt comes back and the desire fades. I step into the elevator and resign myself to a long night alone.

  Olivia appears in the doorway and slips inside just as the elevator shuts. Her eyes slide over me for a moment and then she turns away, like she’s pretending I don’t exist. Fine, I probably deserve that. I wasn’t exactly friendly to her earlier. Quite the opposite.

  The elevator is old and slow, and my eyes can’t help but roam over her. She meets my gaze and a spark of desire passes between us. We’re alone in a small elevator and suddenly it feels very intimate. I can’t look away, and I have the strongest desire to touch her, though I keep my hands to myself.

  “About earlier.” I clear my throat. “I really don’t have anything against half-humans, you know.”

  She slowly turns those green eyes on me, which are not giving me any leeway. “Sure. That’s why you and your friends told me to leave the school.”

  “It’s for your own good, that’s all. We’re trying to help you.”

  She snorts. “Thanks, but I don’t need your kind of help.”

  The elevator doors open to the fourth floor, and I get out and head to my room. She gets off the elevator too, but heads in the opposite direction, down the hall. I fumble for my key as she walks away, and she glances back just as I get the door open. Our eyes connect, and that same desire sparks between us. She quickly tucks back a piece of her dark hair and looks away.

  I enter my room and close the door. She must have felt it too, this attraction between us. I’ve never been very good at denying myself anything once I want it—and she is definitely very tempting.

  The guys have their own methods, and I have mine. They may not like it, but I’m going to use them. I’ll get close to her, make her trust me, and then find out how she’s connected to Jonah—and then I’ll use that to fulfill my promise to him and get her far away from this school.

  Chapter Nine

  Olivia

  My new plan is in motion.

  My original plan was to befriend Grace and seduce the Princes, but only one part of that plan is working out so far. The four of them are at the top of my suspect list—okay, at the moment they’re the only ones on my suspect list—but I need to look beyond the obvious too. If it were that easy, my father would’ve found Jonah by now.

  Hence, the new plan. Last night I waited for Marcus to return to the dorms, and then I followed him back to his room. Now I know which one is his, and I’ll break inside sometime when he isn’t there so I can search my brother’s room. I’m going to find out everything I can about Jonah’s time here at Seraphim Academy so I can figure out what happened to him, and then I’ll find him. I refuse to believe he’s dead or gone forever. And if he is? Then I’m going to find the bastards who took his life and make them pay.

  In the morning, Araceli and I head to orientation in the auditorium, which Grace showed me briefly during our tour yesterday. We find a spot in the middle of the rows of plush gray seats, and a few other angels look at us and whisper, or nudge their friends. Araceli gives them an overly large wave, making it obvious we know they’re staring at us, and the students quickly turn back around. She turns to me and rolls her eyes. “Think they’ll ever get tired of gawking at us?”

  “One can only hope.” I glance around while the other seats quickly fill up. I spot Tanwen and the rest of the Valkyries in the front with their identical straw-colored hair, and catch a glimpse of the Princes in the corner, glancing at the crowd like kings surveying their minions.

  After everyone has sat down, a very tall, thin man with black hair steps onto the stage and moves to the podium. The entire room quiets immediately, and I sit up with interest because he looks a lot like Bastien, except this man radiates the power and magnetism of an Archangel. This must be the Headmaster.

  As Uriel’s eyes move across the auditorium he seems to focus on each one of us in turn, and many students squirm under his gaze. Uriel is an Ofanim, which gives him the power to detect truth, and probably other powers too since he’s an Archangel. 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. Shit.

  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, shit, shit. 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

  Four months ago

  The 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. Sexual 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.

  He breaks my gaze and clears his throat. As he folds his hands on the marble counter, I realize I’ve been polishing a glass this entire time so hard it’ll probably have permanent streaks. This isn’t like me to fall apart all over a guy. I pull myself together and give him a lazy, seductive smile. “What can I get you?”

  “A scotch, neat.”

  Well that’s just unfair. He has a British accent, as If he wasn’t hot enough already. I bet women fall all over themselves to be around him wherever he works. I’ve known him one second and I’m drooling all over the bar already.

  I pour his drink, taking my time. I’ve got this routine down, and all I need to do is stick to it. First, you slowly fill their order, letting them get a good look at you from every angle. Some drinks are sexier than others to make. This one is too boring and simple to do many of my tricks, like shaking the drink in a way to draw attention to my breasts, but his eyes linger on me anyway. It helps there’s not much else to look at in here, unless he turns around to stare out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the view of Los Angeles at night or the airplanes flying in to LAX. This rooftop hotel bar is dark, with low inoffensive music playing in the background, and everything is glass, metal, and marble. High quality furnishings and expensive alcohol for a more refined traveler—my favorite target.

  Hotel bars near large airports are prime hunting ground, second only to strip clubs. Mother taught me that, and she should know—she’s been doing this for centuries. Of course, she prefers staying at the hotels during her endless travels across the world, whereas I work at one. I need a way to make money, and Jonah would never approve of me working at a strip club. Not that I see him much anymore these days. Besides, at strip clubs you get regulars, and that only leads to trouble. Feeding on travelers is much safer.

  Unfortunately for me, it’s Tuesday night, which is always the slowest travel night. LAX is dead, which means this hotel bar is dead too. Before this guy walked in I was gazing wistfully across the empty tables while my hunger grew. The strip club life was starting to look better every day—I’d never go hungry there, and I’d probably make more money too.

  It’s a good thing this guy arrived in time.

  I set his drink on the counter. “What brings you to L.A.?”

  “I’m here to see my father.” His voice makes it clear he’s not excited about the prospect. He takes the scotch and downs it quickly.

  I chuckle as his empty glass hits the counter, and I grab the bottle for a refill. “That bad, eh?”

  His mouth twists. “He’s not bad, not exactly, but he’s definitely challenging. Our relationship is…complicated.”

  “Trust me, I know all about that.” My smile is genuine because I can actually relate this time. “I’m not sure who is harder to deal with—my mother or my father.”

  He glances down at his drink with a frown and I sense I’ve hit a nerve. This isn’t going well. Normally by now I’d have the target begging me to go back to his or her room already.

  I try again. “Where are you visiting from?”

  “I just moved to Northern California.”

  “And what do you do there?”

  “I’m a history professor.”

  “Really?” I raise my eyebrows.

  “Why is that so surprising?”

  “The way you’re dressed. I pegged you for a rich corporate type. A finance guy. CEO, maybe.”

  “You can blame my father for that. He has impeccable style.” He picks at the shining button on his shirt sleeve. “The devil’s in the details, after all.”

  “So they say.” The saying is a little too close to home. I need to regain control of this situation. I lean forward on the counter, showing off my ample cleavage. “There’s nothing better than a good-looking man in a well-fitting suit.”

  “My father would agree with you.” His eyes dance down my body. “Although I’d argue a beautiful woman in a little black dress is even better.”

  And just like that,
I’m back in the game.

  I reach out and caress his wrist lightly, using a tiny bit of my powers to ignite the desire in him. “I have a break in twenty minutes.”

  At my touch, a flicker of confusion passes over his face for the briefest moment, so fast I nearly miss it. Then he gives me an alluring smile. “Is that so?”

  Thirty minutes later, I’m knocking on his door. He throws it open and at first we can only stare as the sexual tension rises—then we reach for each other without a word. Our lips meet, and the kiss is carnal and intense. I’ve never tasted anything like him before, and I need more, more, more.

  My back hits the wall, and his hands are on my bare thighs, pushing my black dress higher. I grab the front of his shirt and yank it open, and yep, there’s the six pack I was hoping for. His chest is lean and strong, and I run my hands down his hard skin, enjoying the feel of him under my fingertips. Then I reach for the front of his trousers.

  “What’s the rush?” he asks, as I pull the zipper down.

  “I have to go back to work soon.”

  He lets out a sexy growl as he yanks me against him and hefts my thigh up. “Fine, but when your shift is over you’re coming back for round two, and I’m going to take my time with you.”

  I wish that could happen, but for his own safety I can only sleep with him once. It’s a shame, because I actually feel a connection with this guy, even though we’ve just met and have only shared a handful of words. If it were up to me, I’d spend all night in his bed. We’d wake up beside each other and have room service for breakfast. Maybe it would even turn into something more after that. Something I’ve never had—a relationship.