My stomach clenched. Did Liza really think the future was riding on me? That was too big a task for one person alone. Who was I? How could I possibly make our world better? I scanned the room, searching for anything that might get the focus off me. “Where is Derek?”
Before she could even speak, Liza’s disappointed expression relayed the answer. “He’s out with Canaan.”
My nose wrinkled at the scent associated with that name. Canaan Boyd always smelled vaguely like the shekar he fermented in his bathtub. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him walk a straight line because he engaged in frequent “quality control” checks of the alcohol. Having sampled the end product, I could vouch that his constant imbibing did nothing to improve the flavor. “I don’t know why you let Derek hang out with him.”
“Let him?” Liza scoffed. “I’m not Derek’s guardian. Besides, he’s twenty. Old enough to make his own choices about who to hang around with. As long as he doesn’t bring Canaan to the library, I don’t care if he spends time with him.” Her eyes strayed to the file on the table. “What’s this?”
“Paperwork that needs to be filled out. They’ll have a car in front of City Hall at seven tomorrow night.”
She pulled the folder across the table and flipped it open to scan the first document in the pile. “Name. Ooh. I’m betting Eden Everdell won’t work here.”
I laughed and a measure of tension drained from my muscles. “I used Eden Jensen, just like you always told me. They made me sign something before I could leave. It was about not revealing my family or my lineage.”
She snorted. “That’s handy.”
“Right? I’d say we lucked out.”
Liza’s nose wrinkled. “Okay—not revealing your family, I kind of get. What better way to go after someone so powerful as a Keeper than to target their family? But the lineage thing?”
I lifted my shoulders. “They think I’m fallen. Maybe the Aether Blade took my request literally. When I touched it, I was thinking that I didn’t want them to figure out who I really was.”
Her eyebrows hiked upward. “Fallen?”
I held my hands up. “I’m as surprised as you.” A thought that had nagged me since my meeting bubbled to the forefront of my mind. “The headmaster didn’t seem surprised at my surprise that they think I’m fallen. She said that my parents probably had a good reason to keep it from me.” I bit my lower lip. “Is there a chance…”
Liza shook her head before I could fumble through the rest of my question. “Your mom was a demon.” She gestured with her red, scaly hands to the horns on her head. “Obviously. And so was your dad. They both passed, like you, but that didn’t make them any less demon. Besides,” she added, “even if he’d been a Warrior, you’d still be a demon. That’s the way it works.”
My gaze dropped to the table as a wave of disappointment rose within me. Not that I had hoped my father was secretly an angel. His lineage didn’t matter; I had only wanted to learn something new about him. While I had memories of my mother, my father—Micah Jensen—died when I was two. I didn’t remember him at all. Although my mother had told me stories when she was alive, and Liza and Marco added in their own tales once I came to live with them, I still didn’t have much to hold on to.
Liza sighed, pressing her palms into the table as she stood. “Eden Jensen, fallen angel. I’m sure Marco’s got some favors to call in. I’ll fill out these forms and we’ll get you whatever credentials you need.”
A shiver passed over my skin. This whole time I’d been so worried about what was going on with me I hadn’t thought to ask about my uncle. “How’s he doing? Is the medicine working?”
“He just had the first dose this morning,” Liza said, an odd, sad smile twisting her lips. “No improvement yet. But healing isn’t a sprint, it’s a marathon.”
Without waiting for a response, she turned and headed down the hall to Marco’s room. Sick as he was, I knew Marco would use every scrap of energy to make sure my paperwork would pass inspection. I had a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to infiltrate the angelic world, and Marco would do everything he could to ensure my acceptance into it. I hoped my efforts proved worthy of his.
My bedroom was pitch black when my eyes snapped open. My heart pounded in my chest as I attempted to discern what had woken me. Stretching out my hand, I flipped my digital clock off its face to check the time. Three twenty-seven.
A thud in the hallway shook away the last vestiges of sleep from my body. I swung my legs off the edge of my mattress and leaned forward to open the door. The light from the emergency bulb flickered as someone moved in front of it. Steeling myself, I climbed out of bed and slipped into the hallway.
Derek stood outside his bedroom, his forehead pressed against the wall. He twisted to face me, his brow wrinkling in surprise. “What are you doing up so late?”
“Apparently you just missed the herd of rampaging rhinos that passed through here.”
He winced. “I bumped into the table. Did I wake you?”
“Yeah,” I said, taking a step forward. “I’m surprised you didn’t wake Liza and Marco, too.”
Derek released a breathy laugh, and I caught the scent of shekar on him. I sighed. “Looks like Canaan was an excellent influence on your behavior tonight, as usual.”
He straightened, pointing sloppily with his finger. “I’ll have you know, Canaan is a really wonderful guy. I don’t know why you don’t…”
The rest of Derek’s statement was lost as he pitched forward, stumbling a few steps toward me.
I pushed my palms against his chest to keep him upright. “Okay, let’s get you into your room.”
He sputtered a protest, but I ignored him. Keeping one hand in the center of his ribcage to keep him upright, I twisted his doorknob with the other.
There were no windows in the bunker. While I preferred to sleep in complete darkness, Derek kept a small light plugged into an outlet. I was thankful for it, even though the room was so small I could have let him fall forward and he would have landed on his bed. Instead, I pulled his arm over my shoulders and led him the step and a half to his mattress before helping to lower him onto it.
“Are you going to be okay from here, or do you need help to pull off your shoes?”
Derek took grasped of my hands, holding me in place before him. “Eden, don’t go.”
I pulsed his fingers. “I’ll be next door if you need me.”
He shook his head, squeezing my hands harder. “No. Don’t go. Don’t leave.”
I sighed as his meaning clicked into place. “Look, I won’t lie—I’m nervous about going to Blakethorne. But this is an incredible opportunity.”
“Pfft,” he scoffed, hitting me full-force with his alcohol breath.
I tugged his hands, hoping the jolt would help him focus. “Weren’t you just saying how we need to try something new? Maybe this is it.”
He pulled on my arms, jerking me down until my face was even with his. “Don’t trust the angels. They’ll promise you the world just to rip it away when you need it the most.”
I wrenched my hands from his grip and straightened my back. “Derek, you’re drunk. Let’s talk about this in the morning.”
He reached for me again, but I took a step back. When he found my gaze, his eyes were pleading. “Say you’ll stay. With me.”
My chest ached at the desperation in his words. I wanted to tell him what he wanted to hear. I always knew that one day I would leave this bunker behind, but I never expected my destination to be an angelic academy. Everything in me wanted to remain in the place I’d called home for the last nine years. But passing up this chance wasn’t only selfish—it was foolish. Angels had literally invited me into their world. Once inside, I would be able to help demonkind in a way I never could from this bunker.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered before stepping into the hall and closing the door behind me.
Chapter Thirteen
Derek was gone by the time I awoke the next morning.
&
nbsp; As Liza helped me with preparations for my journey to Blakethorne, I kept expecting Derek to appear. He would be slightly hungover and apologetic, and we would talk and sort things out before I left.
Except he never showed up.
With a pit in my stomach, I walked the circuitous route Liza plotted out for me to make it appear I was making my way to City Hall from within the limits of West Cameron. Marco did indeed have favors to call in, and within a day and a half, Eden Jensen, fallen angel, had the appropriate identification credentials and a trail of pertinent background details that should stand up to routine scrutiny.
As expected, Headmaster Kemp was waiting for me outside City Hall when I arrived at seven o’clock the next evening. What I didn’t expect were the dozens of people—most with cameras—cordoned off across the street by a group of guards who looked none too pleased by their current assignment.
The headmaster hurried away from the building’s front door and waved for me to join her on the sidewalk. “Quickly, please. Is that all you brought?”
I adjusted the straps on my backpack. “Yeah, this is all.” I hastened my pace, but my eyes remained trained on the photographers as a flurry of movement overtook them. “Who are they waiting for?” I glanced up at the main doors of City Hall, expecting Chancellor Kingston to be making his way out of the building.
Kemp’s hand found my mid-back, and she pressed me toward a dark-windowed vehicle parked at the curb. “They’re waiting for you.”
Before I could respond, she pulled open the car’s back door and nudged me toward the inside. I slipped in and slid to the far end of the bench seat, twisting to glimpse the photographers across the street. Sure enough the cameras were all pointed in my direction. Several people had moved along the far sidewalk until they were even with the car, causing guards to reposition themselves in the middle of the road.
“No need to worry,” the headmaster said as she took a seat beside me and pulled the door closed behind her. “The windows back here are tinted. They can’t see you anymore.” A button clicked. “Howard, we’re in.”
As the vehicle jolted forward, I finally turned to take in my surroundings. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d ridden in an automobile, but I had never been in something like this. Instead of a single bench behind the driver’s seat, this vehicle had a second long seat along the stretched window behind the driver. On the right side were small cupboards and a tiny square refrigerator. I groped for the right word to describe the vehicle. Limousine.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to that,” Headmaster Kemp said, offering a reassuring smile. “When you’re out in public, of course. No one will bother you at Blakethorne.”
I nodded, not sure how to respond. Two days ago I was slipping unnoticed through crowds. Today there were journalists lying in wait to snap my picture. How could my world have upended so quickly?
“You can take off your backpack,” she continued. “It’ll take about an hour to get to Blakethorne. You may as well make yourself comfortable.” She gestured to the fridge. “Would you like some sparkling water?”
I imagined water glittering with iridescent shimmers and shook my head. “I’m okay.”
Slipping the pack off my shoulders, I unzipped it just wide enough to pull out the folder of paperwork. “Here.”
She nodded and took the folder just long enough to set it on top of the refrigerator. We sat in silence for several strained minutes before she forced another smile. “I’m sure you have lots of questions.”
Not really. I tried to recall all the tips Liza had thrown at me, rapid-fire, last night and this morning. To allay suspicion, I needed to go along with whatever was happening around me. “Yes,” I said, a beat too late. “This is all happening so fast. I… I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around it.”
Keeping the lie as close to the truth as possible was key among Liza’s tips.
Headmaster Kemp nodded understandingly. “I’m sure it’s all surreal right now. But before you know it, Blakethorne will feel like home.”
She launched into the history of Blakethorne—a speech so well-rehearsed I wondered if she used it on the families of prospective students regularly. She explained about how after ethereals first moved from the earthly realm to the kis, they began building their society from the ground up. They couldn’t duplicate the ways of the eternal realm, but they were reluctant to base our culture off that of the humans. Instead, they settled on a way somewhere in between. In those days, Warrior angels trained to protect and keep the peace from the time they could pick up a sword. Over the centuries, the need for every child born of a Warrior lineage to become a guard diminished, paving the way for Blakethorne’s establishment.
I did my best to pay attention to her spiel, but my mind was spinning with too many worries. I’d spent much of my life avoiding angelic guards at all cost; now I would literally be living with them. Not for the first time, I wondered if Liza had really thought this through.
After what felt like an interminable length of time, Headmaster Kemp released a contented sigh. “Ah, here we are. Welcome to your new home, Eden.”
Her words snapped me from the stupor I’d sunk into and I turned my gaze to the window. With the dark tint of the glass and the gathering twilight beyond, I couldn’t make out much at first. But as the limo slowed and turned, I spotted tall wrought iron bars standing resolute between tall, brick posts. The forest beyond was almost too black to make out.
The car slowed to a crawl, and I squinted to figure out the hold up. We stopped in front of a gate and a guard in a dark blue uniform approached the driver from a slender brick tower. I peered up toward the top and glimpsed another guard standing stock still twenty feet above us.
I turned to Headmaster Kemp. “What’s that guy looking for?”
She patted my forearm. “Potential threats.”
The gates parted before us and the car crept forward. But as we passed onto Blakethorne’s grounds, a shiver coursed down my spine. What kinds of threats did she mean?
Chuckling, she patted my arm. “No need to look so worried. I assure you, since its inception, no demon has ever stepped foot on Blakethorne’s grounds.”
I gulped. “And… what would happen if one did?”
She took a moment to consider the question. “I’m not fully sure how the Guard would handle it, but I assume societal rehabilitation would be in order.”
I released a breath. A stint in rehab. Could be worse.
The headmaster leaned forward conspiratorially. “Or maybe they’d move straight to something more serious.” She offered a smile.
It took everything in me to return her smirk, even though I feared I might regurgitate my ration bar on the taupe carpet at my feet. The last scraps of comfort I’d been clinging to disappeared as the realization of my situation sunk in: If anyone found out who I really was, I was done for. They’d stick me in the pit until I lost all sense of who I was. A fate worse than death.
We traveled up a narrow, winding road surrounded by trees. My stomach twisted into knots as we went. Although Liza and I had tried to dig up as much information as possible about what Blakethorne was like, information had been scant. And while she had done her best to write off the lack of information as a necessary trade-off for such a once-in-a-lifetime chance to get behind enemy lines, I couldn’t help wondering if she’d be so willing to accept such a complete lack of intel if she were the one going in under cover.
The trees along the road thinned before opening up to the grounds beyond. I couldn’t hold back a gasp. Blakethorne Academy was nothing like I expected. When I imagined a school to train future guards, I pictured something blocky and gray, like a prison. But the series of buildings that rose before me were like something out of a human fairy tale. I spotted several buildings of different sizes, all ornately designed and made of red and orange brick. Trees were interspersed with the buildings, and the grass everywhere was lush and manicured.
By the time our
car came to a stop, I was so stunned it took prodding from the headmaster to get me to move.
Mere seconds after the car pulled to a stop, the driver pulled open my door. “Welcome to Blakethorne, miss,” he said, offering his hand.
Afraid it might be rude not to accept his assistance, I slipped my damp palm against his gloved one and allowed him to help me out of the vehicle. As I pulled my pack back into place, Headmaster Kemp exited the car and joined me.
“I’ll take you to the girls’ dormitory.”
The early evening air nipped at my skin as I followed her along the long sidewalk. She named buildings as we passed them—Kalmin Hall, the dining hall, the science and mathematics academy. I did my best to commit it all to memory.
The girls’ dorm wasn’t as ornate as some other buildings, but it was still nearly as striking as West Cameron City Hall had been. The sandy brick structure rose three stories high, and the narrow windows and peaked sections of roof made gave it an almost magical feeling. Headmaster Kemp led me to the wooden doors and tapped in a code on the metal keypad on the right.
After a soft beep cut through the air, she pulled open the door and gestured for me to walk inside. I crossed the threshold and studied my immediate surroundings. The area was open, with halls leading off to the left and right and a stairwell a few yards ahead.
“I’m sure you’re eager to meet with the other Blade Keepers and learn more about the Academy,” the headmaster said, speaking as if continuing a conversation we were already having. “But that will have to wait until tomorrow.” She glanced both ways down the halls. “Your floor director was supposed to meet us here. I hope Howard didn’t forget to call her.”
“My floor director?”
“Yes,” she said, still distracted. “She’s a senior, and she’s in charge of everything that happens on your floor.” She sucked her teeth and strode to the corded phone hanging on the wall to our right. “I suppose I’ll call her myself. Her number should be listed here.”
Traces of Sulfur: A Young Adult Urban Fantasy Academy Series (Blade Keeper Academy Book 1) Page 9
