The characters and events portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Printed by Ann James Publishing, June 2020
Copyright © Brandi Elledge, 2020
www.brandielledge.com
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Cover and interior design by We Got You Covered Book Design
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All rights reserved. Unauthorized distribution or reproduction is strictly prohibited without the express written permission of the publisher.
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Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9967193-3-9
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Afterword
Acknowledgments
About the Author
To the queen, the ride-or-die, the heart of the family, my mama. I can’t imagine anyone ever loving me as much as you do. You have always been my biggest fan and the first person I run to when I’ve had a bad day. You get me. Also, I love how you kick people out of the village without even asking me. Daddy might guard the village but girl you run it.
Every angel who sat at the round table was grieving. All fifteen of them had invested something in humanity and hated to see what they thought of as their children suffering. They all had been instructed to do nothing, but the cries of the mortals hurt their souls.
An unstoppable disease burned through the land. It didn’t stop for the young or old, the strong or weak. It spread wide with an unforgiving vengeance.
Fifteen angels had gathered to comfort each other. They were the mighty archangels. The ones who were the defenders, and yet they were unable to defend the weak ones. The humans.
Azrael was the first one to speak. “Is there anything we can do?”
Haniel sighed. She was weary to the bone. Her wiry, orange hair swayed as she shook her head. “We have been instructed not to interfere with the dying.”
“Then we mustn’t,” Jeremiel added, his ebony face filled with regret.
“Mustn’t we?” Beautiful Ariel began to pace with her lioness stride. “Yes, we have been taught to obey, but also to think. It’s not if they will all die; it is when.”
Michael, who was never one for words, grunted. He hated to talk unless someone directly asked him a question that required an immediate answer.
He sat reclined back in his chair, his masculine form taking up a lot of space. He ran long fingers through his sandy blond hair as he listened to his brothers’ and sisters’ murmurs.
Jophiel, who was beautiful in her own quiet way, watched her sister, Ariel, pace the floors in their heavenly chambers. Finally, she couldn’t take it any longer and said, “Ariel, if you have a suggestion, let us hear it.”
Her blue eyes twinkled. “What if we give a select few a gift before they go?”
Metatron scoffed. “What gift could a human need when on death’s door?”
Azrael caught her line of thinking quicker than the others. “You wish to heal them?”
“I realize,” Ariel began, “that being the angel of death, this would war the most with you, Azrael, but please hear me out. They cry for our help, and soon, there will be nothing left of them. We the defenders could give them another chance at life.” Tears streamed down her porcelain face. “Please, brothers and sisters.”
Murmurs erupted, but Metatron quieted everyone down. If there was anyone who would understand Ariel’s need to save the humans, even if it was but a few, it would be Metatron, because once upon a time, he had also been human.
When he spoke, his voice was full of empathy. “Ariel, first of all, any we bless would remain that way. Generation after generation, they would have something a little extra and—”
“I understand the ramifications.” Seeing that she had at least one of her brothers’ and sisters’ attention, she hurriedly continued, “Answer me this, brother; do you think it was a coincidence that this plague happened so closely after Lucifer and the other angels fell from grace? This is no coincidence. We are supposed to be defenders. Let us defend. Don’t let the fallen, the darken, win.”
Raguel, the logical one of the bunch, sat back as the other angels talked over one another. “Who would we choose to save? It should not be our decision who lives or dies.”
Ariel wet her lips. “What if we blessed those who showed some sort of heroism during the battle of all this death that is warring down upon them?”
“There would have to be rules,” Raziel said. He seemed always to know the correct answer. “If there were rules in place, then perhaps we could justify our actions.”
Metatron’s twin, Sandalphon, who was the tallest of all angels, stood from the table. He was stunningly attractive and, just like his brother, every part of him looked like he was handcrafted to perfection. The only difference was Metatron was shorter and his build was less muscular.
Sandalphon said, “This could backfire on us.”
“But …?” Ariel asked hopefully.
Sandalphon sighed. “But I think we should do something.” He turned to Raziel. “These rules you speak of, do you have suggestions?”
Raziel shrugged his massive shoulders. “I could come up with a few.”
Uriel asked, “How about we figure it out as we go?”
“Tonight,” Raziel added. Ariel started to speak, but he held up a hand, stopping her. “Sometimes, it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission. We have one night to heal as many as possible. Then we all agree that we’re done. No more interference from us.”
Ariel leaned a shoulder against a column. Sweet, sympathetic Zadkiel went over to her and rubbed her back. He knew that if Ariel had it her way, she would drain herself to a husk in order to save as many as she could.
Gabriel, who had been quiet this whole time, tossed her long mane of brown hair behind her shoulders. Her ethereal beauty was beyond compare and as bright as her positive attitude.
Never one to be discouraging, she had decided to remain quiet and let the others determine the fate of the humans, but when she saw that they were all quickly agreeing to Ariel’s plan, she said, “I think it is a wonderful thing you speak of, Ariel, but what if these humans end up hating us?”
Ariel shook her head. “How could they hate us for saving them? No, we go tonight.”
Gabriel sighed heavily when she saw she was losing the battle. She had many attributes, and one of them was her foresight.
She quietly asked, “How far are all of you willing to go? Would you still save the humans if it meant your death?”
They all agreed, except for Sandalphon, who had been watching her keenly. She refused to meet his eyes in fear that he would see the truth.
After a few more minu
tes of discussing whom the angels would be looking for, they separated into groups of two, except for the last group, who would be made up of Ariel, Gabriel, and Sandalphon. Then the angels went off, seeking those who had formidable traits—warriors amongst the humans.
It would have all gone as planned, except that none of them had known that there had been an angel spying on them. One who wanted nothing more than to bring the archangels themselves to their knees.
It was testing day, the day I had feared for more than a year now. Sixteen was the age in which all the touched or blessed, who I personally called “the infected,” were hunted down and made to enroll at one of the two academies—the Academy of Seraph or Empowered Academy. Recruiters from both academies went near and far to find any of the blessed. The Academy of Seraph had a formal way of finding us. The Empowered Academy sent darken out to find us on the streets. Another reason I rarely left whatever home I was currently residing at—you never knew what came out at night, or daylight, for that matter.
Those who had been blessed by any of the fifteen archangels were called demis. If you had been touched by an archangel and a fallen angel, also known as the darken, then you got labeled as a “fully blessed.” In my opinion, either way, you were screwed. Being straight-up human was the way to go.
It usually wasn’t until puberty when we started to show signs of being blessed, so they usually left us alone until sixteen—or, at least sixteen was supposed to be the age.
Thanks to me being a recluse and being rehomed several times, I had successfully avoided six tests and had dodged my fate for almost two years. I had hoped to avoid this one, as well, but my new foster parent had received a letter from the Academy of Seraph in the mail saying I had been flagged, and they expected to see me at the next testing no matter the circumstances. No one wanted an angel showing up on their doorstep, so my foster parent reminded me a hundred times last night that I was to go to the testing.
Bouncing around from foster home after foster home had taught me how to pretend, and it helped that I was never in one place long enough for anyone to notice anything abnormal. However, if I didn’t show up for the testing day, it would be a huge red flag, and they would send someone after me.
Sometimes, I wondered what America used to look like before the angels went to war amongst each other. It didn’t look like a warzone … yet, but there were parts in every county, in every state, that had been affected by the angels. Vindictive angels could do a lot of damage in a little amount of time.
In the beginning, the archangels had tried their hardest to keep a tight lid on everything, but the darken and their demons didn’t care if humans knew they existed. In fact, they preferred it—at least that way they got to see their fear.
Ever since the last decade, the angels had been playing a game of sorts. Kind of like capture the flag, but with blessed as their prize. Anyone who tested positive for the “abnormal” gene was sent to one of the academies. The Academy of Seraph was formally testing in my neighborhood today. If they found out who I really was, well, truth be known, I could do a lot worse. It was said that the Empowered Academy fought for the darken and had been known to bring students in line with their torture tactics.
All of it was a moot point because I didn’t want to be a part of any of it.
I had been having dreams since I was twelve years old. Not a princess being rescued out of a castle dreams, but dreams of kids killing kids in a war that they shouldn’t have inherited. If I had one wish, it would be to be human. But that wasn’t the case. So, what did I do? I dodged the testings and pushed down that power that was usually humming inside of me when I must leave the house, prolonging the inevitable for as long as I could.
The testings held by the Academy of Seraph were held at schools, private and public. Home schoolers got visited.
I had tried for years to find out exactly how they tested us, but the problem with that was no one knew. Once you tested positive, you were taken. I would figure out a way to make sure that didn’t happen to me, though.
I tied my long, brown hair in a ponytail, grabbed my faded backpack, and then headed for Saint’s Christian School, where I was currently enrolled. I had never witnessed testing before, but I was sure everything was going to be all right. This was going to be no big deal. Maybe it would be a survey of sorts. If you thought you held an abnormal gene, then check the box kind of thing. I would draw little hearts above my name and giggle as I filled out the form, underlining that there was absolutely nothing in the world wrong with me, and bada-bing, bada-boom, I’d be scot-free. I laughed at the absurdity of that.
The trees blew in the wind, as if they were trying to reach out their branches toward me. I hunched my shoulders and pretended that I didn’t notice. If I told anyone that, for the last six months, trees tried to embrace me, they would think I was crazy or know I was blessed. Honestly, I’d rather them think the first.
A dog was barking crazily as I rounded the corner. I froze in my tracks when I saw it laying on the porch. I met his brown eyes, and my stomach twisted. I started to just walk away, but I couldn’t bear the thought of him suffering.
Mrs. Harrington was in her pillowcase dress, watering her roses. She was half-crazy, so would she recognize someone who was touched with a little craziness herself? Doubtful. I hefted my backpack higher my shoulder. There was only one way to find out.
“Hi, Mrs. Harrington,” I called.
“Hello, Gabriella.”
“Um …” I looked at the old hound dog again. “So, I read an article that the mosquitoes were really bad this season and a lot of dogs were being infected, causing them to have heartworms. I think you should get Blue tested.”
Mrs. Harrington looked to where the hound was laying. “You think so?”
“Definitely. He looks like he might not be feeling well.”
“You know, he has been acting strange. I’ll call the vet today.”
I gave her a warm smile. “Sounds good.”
She shook a skinny finger in my face. “I just heard on the police scanner that there was demon activity at the mall last night. A pretty girl like yourself can’t be too careful. Maybe you should stay away from the mall for a while.”
I had no money to spend, so that would be super easy. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Those demons are spreading out of their territory. It’ll start with a couple, and then the next thing you know, bam, they will be everywhere, causing damage like a tornado in flat plains.”
“Yep. Well, I better be off, or I’ll be late.”
She gave me a curt nod, and I cast one last glance at the hound before I continued on to school. I shouldn’t have stopped, but the damn dog was in pain and suffering. I was infected, which was normally a curse, but sometimes it had its blessings. If Mrs. Harrington called the vet and got Blue fixed, then at least I could say what’s going on with me was not all bad.
Two minutes of brisk walking and I entered the back of the auditorium. I found a seat next to a pudgy kid named Jake. He was super nice, and I wasn’t just saying that because he sometimes brought me homemade cupcakes that his mom baked.
Jake’s face lit up when he saw me. He started rambling about the football game coming up this Friday while kids were filing into the auditorium. Apparently, it was homecoming, and there would be a bonfire afterward. Like I had time to care about things as trivial as after-school parties.
I took a deep breath. If habitual liars could pass lie detector tests, I could pass one silly little testing.
The principal stood up and made his way to the stage. “Students, I know everyone is excited about today, but please keep the chatter to a bare minimum. This shouldn’t take too long, but it will help to speed up the process if each of you listens for your name.” He waved for someone who was standing off to the side to come onto the stage.
The man was perhaps twenty-one, but the way he moved told a different story. He didn’t just walk onto the stage; he moved with an athletic grace that should have
been impossible for someone with his large frame.
With every step he took, the auditorium grew quieter. Whoever this man was, his presence was domineering. I could see the definition of his muscles poking out under his T-shirt, and I was in the back row. Maybe he was one of the fully blessed? Whatever he was, he was drop-dead gorgeous with his jet-black hair and piercing green eyes.
“This is Finn Martinez,” the principal introduced. “He is the commander of the academy that will be testing you today.”
As the commander roamed his striking eyes around the crowd with a predatory gaze, I slouched down in my seat with fear that he would be able to somehow read something on my face. I wasn’t a fantastic liar, but I was confident that I would be able to answer the appropriate questions asked at the testing in order to avoid going to the academy. I just had to quit freaking out so badly.
His voice was deep and sexy as he addressed the crowd. I even heard a couple of girls sigh.
“As your principal said, I’m the commander for the Academy of Seraph. This should go smoothly. I need to be very clear on what we are looking for today. A student must carry at least a tenth of the angel gene in them before they can be admitted to the academy. However, that does not mean that they will be able to join the army after graduating. If the student is deemed warrior material, then they will be given a job. If they are not a fit for the army, they will be returned home. We will begin right away.”
Blessed: Academy of the Seraph Page 1
