by ERIN BEDFORD
She reached out to brush a strand of hair away from my face, and I jerked away from her touch. I’d had enough death and pain for the day.
“I’m not a bug.” I gritted my teeth and glowered. “Nor will I be kept prisoner.” I stepped closer to her until we were nose to nose with each other, thankful for my high boots. “You don’t know me. My father doesn’t know me. Don’t pretend that you do. This whole we’re all in this together bullshit you’re selling here? It’s. Not. Me.”
Azazel stared me down for what felt like forever before a broad smile slipped over her face. “Well, then. Perhaps we should find something that’s a little more...you.”
She turned on her heel and walked down the hallway. When I didn’t follow, she glanced over her shoulder. “Are you coming? Or not?”
Fuck my life. I needed a cigarette.
AZAZEL SILENTLY LED me to a part of the school which was more worn and less inhabited by the students who were likely to make their presence known, even while in classes.
They hadn't bothered to glam up this part of the school. The walls were bare, and there weren't fluffed up chairs or oriental rugs on the floor. It was as if no one ever came down this way. Or maybe they just didn't care about that kind of stuff.
"Are you going to tell me where we’re going or keep me in suspense?" I wrapped my arms around my waist and stared at the back of Azazel's head. I thought angels were supposed to have wings. But neither Azazel nor my father had any. At least, not that I could see. Were they metaphysical in nature? More of the energy variety than actual literal wings? Either way, the whole angels and Nephilim thing was still hard to wrap my brain around.
"Even with angelic blood in your veins, you are still so human," Azazel commented wistfully.
"And that's a bad thing?"
Azazel angled her head toward me, her lips ticking up at the edges. "On the contrary, we here at the Fallen Academy believe your humanity is what makes you an indispensable part of our hierarchy."
I snorted. "I thought we were nothing but bugs to be stepped on when we get out of line."
She threw her head back and laughed. "That too."
Grunting in the back of my throat, I dropped my arms to my sides as I paused in the hallway. "So, we only matter when you want something from us, is that it?"
Azazel stopped and twisted toward me. "Precisely."
"That's seriously fucked up."
My words didn't offend Azazel. She walked the few steps toward me, trying to use her presence to loom over me. "Never forget that you exist solely by our will. If you leave this place, you will be smote down by those all so holy angels the humans pray to. You are an abomination to them, but to us..." She reached out and caressed the air next to my face, not touching me. "To us, you can be something more."
It hurt my pride to step back from her, but I did it. She made my skin crawl, even without the physical touch. The fact that she had kept herself from touching me alone made me not trust her. Now that I knew what their end game for all of us was here, I trusted her even less. Not that there was much trust there to begin with. Anyone who befriended my father already had a place on my shit list.
"What if we don't want to be a part of your plan?" I countered, seeing how far I could push her before she showed her ugly side.
Azazel smirked. "You are under the impression that you have a choice in the matter? You, in the long run, do not matter. There are hundreds of children just like you who would love nothing more than to be part of the grand plan."
I flicked my hair over my shoulder and snarled, "Then get one of them to play your games." I spun on my heel, ready to make a rapid exit and continue with my plan of escape, but Azazel tempted me once more.
"The seer is waiting for us. We shouldn't keep her waiting."
I half turned back. "Seer? You mean, someone like me?"
"Did you think you were the only one?" She arched a brow and swept her arm out to the side. "It's not much further."
Already regretting following her rather than trying my luck at getting out of there, I took the few steps needed to catch up to her. "This better be worth it. I'm getting tired of your games."
Azazel shook her head and laughed as she stopped before a wooden door with black metal lining the edges and handle. "You are so much like Batariel."
My jaw clenched tight. "I'm nothing like him."
Azazel gave me a knowing look before turning on her heel and disappearing into the shadows, leaving me at the doorway with no explanation.
Like my dad? Pfft. No fucking way. I didn't abandon my family. I didn't put work above all else. I didn't...ugh. Why did I let her get me so worked up? I'd finally gotten myself to the place where I didn't give two shits about the man, and now, he just kept getting brought back up again.
And for what?
He wasn't going to change.
Kidnapping me from Mom's funeral for some kind of unconfirmed threat wasn't winning him any points from me. As far as I could tell, he was still just looking out for himself. After all, he dumped me off here and took off again. He couldn't even be bothered to explain what the hell was going on himself.
"Are you going to wait outside my door all day? The tea is getting cold."
The door had cracked open while I was having my internal hissy fit. A grey-haired woman with stormy grey eyes peeked out of the door at me.
"Oh, sorry." I shifted out of the way so she could open the door completely. I brushed passed her, noticing how much she did not scream seer. She wore a fuzzy pink sweater over a pale blue house dress with little white flowers decorating it. Her cream-colored slippers had seen better days. She seemed more like someone's grandmother than some mystical being who would know what I was going through.
"Please come, have a seat." She ushered me to a small table with a pretty white lace tablecloth. A tea pot with a yellow daisy painted on the side of it sat in the middle of the table. I slid into the chair before one of the teacups, noticing how there was only two cups. Had she known Azazel wouldn't be joining us?
If she was a seer, then probably.
"Tea?" She sat down across from me and lifted the pot up with a quirk of her brow.
I didn't actually care for the stuff, but didn't want to be rude. Get more flies with honey and all that. Or in this case, answers.
"Yes, please." I picked the saucer and cup up, holding it steady while she poured the tea.
"Sugar? Cream?"
I waved her off, settling to sip the vile bitter leaf water in silence.
The woman filled her own cup with tea and then piled in more sugar than was probably healthy for someone her age and only a dash of cream. "So...why don't you tell me about yourself?"
I gaped at her. "Uh, don't you already know?"
She laughed jovially and then sipped from her cup. Once she put her cup back down and swallowed, she leveled a look at me. "I could look into your past, your future, even your present, but I find it quite rude, don't you?"
I ducked my head down, staring at the dark liquid in my cup. "Yeah. I suppose so."
"Well, then we are in agreement. Introductions are best to start, don't you think?" She waited for me to answer as she brought her cup up to her mouth.
"Elle."
"Ah, yes. Batariel's daughter." When I flinched at my father's name, she smiled. "We can get back to him in a moment. I am Sarah." My brows rose, and she laughed. "Yes, I know. Quite the boring Biblical name. I'm sure you were expecting something far more exotic like Camilla or Lucia. Both of whom are quite lovely ladies, so you know. They work down in the kitchens."
"Oh." I didn't know what to say to that. Sarah seemed to know what I was thinking before I even said it, but she wasn't a mind reader. Perhaps it was part of her abilities? It was odd. I was used to being the one who knew things about others that could be used against them. Now I was on the opposite end of the table, and I found myself unsettled.
"I really like your...room." I glanced around the cozy area, searching for something t
o say to break the tension. After a long look at her collection of porcelain clowns, I wished I'd kept my mouth shut.
And people called me weird.
Sarah simply took it all in stride, laughing as she watched me struggle to keep my expression pleasant. "You needn’t pretend with me, Elle. Our gift is not the easiest one to live with."
I drank deeply of my tea, grimacing against the bitter taste but preferring it to talking about my gift.
"It's my understanding that you didn't come here of your own volition."
I snorted. "You could say that."
"Hmm." Sarah stared at me for a long moment, then her eyes dipped to my hand, the one with the scar. "Your mother and father tried extremely hard to keep you hidden. It's a pity she had to die. She was a lovely woman."
I almost dropped my teacup. "You knew my mother."
Sarah smiled behind her teacup. "Oh yes, she was one of my favorite students. For a time. A rare thing indeed for an angel to bed a Nephilim, let alone marry one. Your mother was indeed special."
Dad had implied that mom was one of us—a Nephilim—but I hadn't believed him. Never in all my life did my mom ever use a power, at least not to my knowledge. To hear someone else that wasn't him confirm my mom wasn't who I thought she was gave me a sense of relief and anger.
They'd lied to me. My whole life, I thought I was the only one with my abilities. My powers. Not only was there a whole school full of kids just like me, but my own mother. My mom was one too.
I'd expected that kind of betrayal from my dad, but from her?
My eyes burned against my will, and I pushed at the emotions billowing up, not wanting to cry in front of this complete stranger.
"Don't be too hard on your mother, dear." Sarah sat her cup down and shifted it on the saucer. "She gave up using her powers to keep you safe. She believed that she could keep you hidden as long as too much attention wasn't drawn to you."
"But it didn't help," I practically bit out. "She didn't use her powers, and they still found me and killed her for it."
"Yes, that is unfortunate." Sarah nodded in agreement. "I wish I could tell you that you'd never lose another person you loved. That this was the extent of your suffering but..." She sighed heavily and picked up the tea pot once more. " I'm afraid we are at war, and we have been for over a millennium. It will take something of great power to shift the balance one way or the other to stop it."
"What's that got to do with me?" I didn't even pretend to drink my tea anymore, pushing it away from me with a frown.
"Nothing...yet. But didn't you come here to talk about something else?" Sarah arched a white brow. "You aren't happy with Azazel's choice in classes for you?"
I crossed my arms over my chest and slouched back in my chair. "I'm not like them. I can't read minds. Or move things across the room. I don't have that kind of power. I just see things."
"What kind of things?"
"Not the kind of things anyone would want to see," I muttered, reluctant to talk about it.
"I see."
"Azazel," I started, and then paused. "She called you a seer. So, you're like me?”
Sarah smiled kindly. “Alike, but not the same. I need assistance to see the future, but you..." She stirred the milk and sugar into her tea. "You are so much more.”
I scoffed, tired of being referred to a bug in one sentence and then indispensable in the other. “I’m nothing special.”
“But you are," she insisted, lifting her cup to her lips to blow on it. "You have a gift. You can see all that happens before it even happens. Can change what others cannot. That's far greater a gift than any of the other mind reading or fire bending idiots can do in this school.”
“But I can’t!" I shook my head, straightening up in my chair. "Don’t you understand? I only see death. And no one can change that." I lowered my head, moving it from side to side sadly. "Believe me, I’ve tried.”
A hand settled over my head, and for once, I wasn't assaulted with a violent death. Sarah laid peaceful in her bed, a cup of tea on the nightstand and her beloved figurines all around her. She smiled up to the heavens, a tear sliding down her cheek as her final breath released between her lips.
“Death is inevitable." Sarah's voice soothed me as much as the peacefulness of her death. "Sometimes, you are not meant to change it, but to be the one to endure it.”
I lifted my head and peered into her gentle eyes. “I can't even see my own future, how am I supposed to save anyone else’s?”
“We aren’t meant to see our own future, not even you.” Sarah patted me on the hand and offered me a tissue.
It was then that I realized the tears I'd been fighting had fallen. When had that happened?
I took the tissue with a thank you. "I still don't see why I was put in that class. I'm not like them. I probably screwed Dharma for life."
"I wouldn't worry so much about that," Sarah explained. "She's far more resilient than you'd think. Even if she tends to bite off more than she can chew." She winked, causing me to laugh as I blew my nose.
"There's one more thing before you go." Sarah sat her cup to the side and reached for my hand. I would usually pull away, even though I'd seen her death already, but there was something about her that made me want to trust her.
“The mark on your hand." Sarah tapped on it with her thumb. "While it was given by your father, it will fade, and with it, the cap on your powers.”
I frowned deeply at that. "The cap on my powers?"
She held my hand tightly, not answering my question as her eyes stared off into nothing. When her gaze finally cleared, she shook her head disappointingly. “I fear even I cannot see the extent of your abilities. Be careful.”
WHILE LEAVING SARAH'S, my stomach rumbled. It was no wonder I was hungry. It was well past lunch time, and I hadn't eaten breakfast.
"Better hurry to the kitchens before they close for dinner prep." Sarah quickly explained how to get to the kitchens from her room before handing me a small stack of books.
"What's this?" I eyed the pile suspiciously.
Smiling in amusement, Sarah wrapped her sweater tighter around her shoulders. "While you're more than just a seer like myself, you'd do well to read up on our abilities. It might just come in handy later." With no further explanation, she waved me off and shut the door.
I let out a disgruntled sigh, holding the books under one arm.
Great. More homework.
Not that I wasn't grateful for her insight. I'd always been on the outside looking in, so it wasn't too surprising to be in the same place I'd always been. Still, it would have been nice to fit somewhere.
Oh well.
My stomach yelled at me again, reminding me once more to feed it.
Turning from Sarah's door, I tried to remember the directions she'd given me. I wasn't sure what time it was or if classes were close to being over. I hoped I didn't run into anyone from the last class. Or anyone in general really. Who knew how fast gossip like that spread here? If it was anything like my old school, everyone in the whole building already knew what I did.
On edge the entire walk back, I kept looking over my shoulder for someone to pop out and scream “Freak!” before demanding I leave. Not that it wouldn't be a favor to me. I'd be doubling down on a way out of here soon before they bring the pitchforks to drive me out.
To my relief, only a few people were wandering the halls, and they didn't give me more than a second glance before hurrying on their way. Maybe the news hadn't gotten to everyone yet then?
I counted myself lucky for once and made it to the kitchens. Pushing the door open, the banging of pots and pans followed by a growl of annoyance filled my ears.
"How many times must I tell you? Simmer, not boil!" yelled a man in a white chef's coat with a red bandana around his head at a poor worker. "It's not that hard." He shook his head and turned from the shaking guy. "I swear, they let anyone into culinary school these days."
Wiping his hands on a nearby towel, the
man stopped when he spotted me. His eyes narrowed as he placed his hands on his hips. "The kitchen is reserved for staff only. You should eat when the other students do, or you're tough out of luck."
What kind of fucked up rule was that? I almost argued back at him, but his eyes landed on the books in my hands, and his entire expression changed.
"Oh." The word was a bell like sound that filled his whole face with glee. "You're one of Sarah's. Why didn't you say so? I'm Vinny."
Cause the grumpy bastard didn't give me the chance. And what was all this Sarah's bull crap? While I didn't belong to anyone, I was my own woman after all, I wasn't about to correct him and get booted from the kitchen. Food was a higher priority than my pride.
"Yeah, that's right." I held the books up so he could see the covers. "We got a little carried away, and I missed lunch. Would it be alright? I mean, Sarah told me..."
"Oh yes!" The man waved me into the kitchen, but like so many already, didn't touch me. I guess I wasn't the only one with a reputation. "Please have a seat, and I’ll whip you up a cold plate." He paused and swung back around to me. "Or would you rather have something hot? I know the visions can be draining, but I've never been told if the temperature of the food really mattered in the way of recharging?"
I had no idea what he was talking about, since I'd never felt anything but annoyed by my visions, so I simply shrugged. "Cold is fine."
Humming along to himself and walking straight through anyone who didn't get out of his way, Vinny went about making me a sandwich, and every once in a while, would ask me about my preferences. When finished, he handed me a plate full to the brim of chips, vegetables, and the biggest sandwich I'd ever seen.
"There you go, darling. Don't hesitate to come back if you ever need an energy boost." He wiggled his fingers after me, but the second the kitchen door closed behind me, he was yelling at someone else.
