Acca

by Christina Bauer

  Lincoln digs around in his man-bag of tricks, an angry look on his face. I can’t help but notice how we’re not going anywhere yet.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask.

  “I went through way too many spells in prepping for today. I never suspected that Acca had done nothing to protect the area.” He shakes his head. “I should have guessed.”

  “How bad is it?”

  “I’ve enough charms to cover us. Barely.” Lincoln starts setting some small potion bottles and charms into different little pockets on his body armor. “There are a lot of demons out there, though.”

  My heart pitter-pats a little faster. “How many is a lot?”

  “Tons. The place is crawling with them.”

  My tail arches over my shoulder, tilting the arrowhead-shaped end toward me. I give it a high five. “Now, that’s what I’m talking about.”

  “We’re not killing demons tonight.” Lincoln has his no-nonsense tone on, which is a total bummer. “This mission is for recon only.”

  “Sure, sure.” I’m so killing something when I get a chance.

  Lincoln tilts his head and eyes me carefully. “You’re just yes-ing me to death, aren’t you?”

  I debate about lying, but that’s a bad habit to get into. “Yeah, I totally was.” I raise my hand, palm forward. This is a serious mission, and Lincoln and I need to be aligned. “I promise not to kill anything unless we agree on it.”

  Lincoln’s face warms with a genuine smile. “I love you, Myla.”

  I wink. “It’s easy to do, really.” I kiss him gently on the cheek. Sometimes, that says it all.

  “Well, now.” Lincoln loops his arms around my waist. “Are you ready to explore the north side of the island?”

  “Hells, yeah.”

  “Then, let’s go.” Lincoln pulls a small knife out of a pocket. The pentagram insignia of Striga has been carved into the handle. More magic stuff.

  “That’s a new one to me.” Although, considering Lincoln and I haven’t been together too long, most of the stuff from Striga is new to me. “What does that thing do?”

  “It will cut our way out of here without attracting attention. Even the guards won’t see us.” Lincoln kills the lights, steps over to the wall, and kneels down. I can barely make out his blade glowing in the darkness as he makes a mark across the baseboard.

  I finish getting myself ready. In this case, that means pulling my hood over my face and dragging on my gloves. This way, every inch of me is hidden.

  Fear me, for I am Ninja Scala.

  Lincoln pulls on his own facemask. While mine looks more like a black fencing mask thingy, Lincoln’s reminds me of a ski mask with meshy eyes. It’s pretty cool looking, actually. Lincoln glances up in my direction. We share a silent nod.

  Go time.

  Returning his attention to the wall, Lincoln curls his fingers right into the baseboards, exactly where he’d just cut a line with his magic knife. Jamming his hands into the wood, Lincoln then pulls up the wall as if it were fabric. Grass becomes visible through the new hole.

  My brows lift. That’s a pretty neat trick, right there. Especially considering how the guards can’t see a thing.

  We crawl under the wall and out into the night. The cool air makes me shiver. Lincoln starts to slip through the trees and shrubs. There’s only a thin moon in the sky, so everything is almost completely dark. Another bonus of being part demon is I have excellent night vision, though. For Lincoln’s part, his angelic side gives him similar abilities.

  We slink through the woods for quite some time. I don’t see any of the guards. I can sure hear them, though. They are cocking their guns and gasping at every little sound. Considering the situation, I don’t blame them.

  There are demons everywhere.

  Acca has been slacking on this territory, and it shows. The humans can’t see anything. I’d imagine that they sure can sense the evil, though. I’ve never seen so many Class F demons in one place. There are dark pixies flitting through the shrubs. Hell bats hanging upside from the trees. Even the grass snakes have glowing red eyes. My inner wrath demon goes berserk. Every cell in my body wants to break out and fight.

  I grit my teeth and keep a steady path toward the north side of the island. Lincoln keeps pace at my side. I’d give myself a high-five for holding back, but I don’t want to mess up my concentration. Not-killing is hard work.

  As we move along, the woods change. The trees become taller. Older. More space separates the trunks. The grounds are raw and unkempt. There’s no question about it. We’ve reached outskirts of the Wheeler Institute. My pulse skyrockets. We’re getting closer to the north side of the island…And the Acca patrol.

  Lincoln and I slip farther through the trees and then, we come to a large cabin. Unlike the one that I’m staying in, it’s old and nasty. The roof looks ready to fall in. In fact, there’s only one good thing about this place.

  Candlelight shines through the cracks in the walls.

  Someone’s in there.

  Every nerve ending in my body becomes charged with excitement. Could this be the hiding place of our codex and Lucifer’s coin? My palms turn slick inside my dragonscale gloves. It’s currently early Friday morning (very, very early). If we get the codex today, we can still show the codex to the Arbiter and make our case. This could all be over so soon. And then…Our wedding. I’d be able to talk to Mom and Octavia about the plans, maybe squeeze in another fitting on my dress.

  Slow down, Myla.

  I force myself to inhale a few long breaths. Now is not the time to start mentally celebrating. The codex and coin come first.

  Lincoln and I steal up closer to the barn. Voices carry through the night. I tilt my head. A bunch of men are gabbing about something. None of the voices sound familiar, though.

  We crouch by the barn’s outer wall. Here, the breaks in the wood are large enough to peer through. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the bright light inside, but when I do, I see five Acca warriors. Lincoln pulls out a charm for concealment—it resembles a nickel—and snaps it in two. A small puff of purple smoke wafts into the air.

  Now, no one can hear us.

  “Is this the lost patrol?” I ask.

  “That’s them, all right.”

  Inside the rundown cabin, all five warriors are seated around a shabby wooden table. Everywhere in the room—tables, chairs and floor space—the place is piled high with old books and sheets of parchment. The warriors wear black body armor like Lincoln’s, only theirs has the insignia of Acca embossed on their chest. Dicks.

  And of all people, Prescott paces a frenzied line before them. I blink, wondering if I’m seeing things. I’m not. Prescott is here and chatting up the Acca warriors like they’re old buddies.

  What does Prescott want with fighters from Acca, exactly?

  “I’ve done everything you asked,” says Prescott. The headmaster is still in his country club best, only he doesn’t seem so calm and collected any more. The guy’s golden hair is a mess and his shirt is untucked. A wild look now shines in his icy-blue eyes. “I want my Lady back in my life. She won’t speak to me unless the coin is found.”

  My brows jet upward. Her she is again; the same Lady that Desmond talked about. Every particle of my body strains to hear what the Acca patrol says next. A long pause follows before anyone answers. My heart hammers in my chest as I get a closer look at the warriors. As thrax go, they’re pretty standard Acca guys. All of them are little on the thin side with blue eyes and lots of golden hair. One of them is taller with an all-gold tunic and a man-bun. That’s the patrol’s Captain.

  Prescott falls to his knees before Mister Man-Bun. “Please, Blaze.”

  Blaze leans back on his chair. “The terms of our deal were very clear. Your Lady is the one who set the rules here. You won’t see her again until the coin is discovered.”

  “But I have the codex. I’m keeping it safe for you in my library. Isn’t that enough?”

  On reflex, I g
rab Lincoln’s hand. The codex is on the island; Prescott admits it! This fiasco is so close to being over, I can taste it. Well…Over except for the bit about Lucifer’s coin and opening up a gateway that could end the world. That part still bites.

  “What more do you desire?” asks Prescott. The guilty look on his face says that he knows damned well what Acca wants.

  “Please. Lucifer’s coin is still hidden on this island. You’re some kind of expert on Lucifer.”

  Prescott lifts his chin. “I know about all archangels.”

  I roll me eyes. Sure, you do.

  “You don’t know enough to find Lucifer’s coin. Perhaps the Lady overestimated your skills in archangology.”

  I have to admit, Blaze is right on that score. What Prescott knew about my father was zip.

  “I’ll find the coin,” insists Prescott.

  “I know you will. That’s why you’re here.”

  Prescott puffs out his chest. “That, and because my Lady loves me.”

  Riiiiiiiight. It’s too much of a coincidence for some Lady to fall for an archangologist when Lucifer’s coin is missing. Not that love makes you too logical. I’ve seen it myself with Connor and Octavia.

  “We’re not having this conversation again,” says Blaze. “Find it.”

  I glance over to Lincoln. He sits still as stone, a sliver of moonlight outlining his masked profile. I can’t see his face, but there’s no mistaking the waves of rage rolling off my guy. Lincoln is furious, and he’s not the only one. Both my hands are curled into fists. It’s one thing to suspect your own people are plotting against you. It’s another thing to see it firsthand.

  This betrayal really pisses me off. Right now, I should be snuggling with my guy, eating demon bars, or planning my wedding. Okay, the wedding-planning stuff isn’t my favorite thing to do. That said, my point remains. These losers have me sneaking around a random island instead of living my life.

  Prescott scrubs his face with his hands. “I’ve done everything I can think of. I’ve searched the island from end to end.”

  “Look again. If you want to see your Lady, you’ll find it.”

  “Yes, that’s right. I will find it. I’ll do anything for her.”

  Something about the look in Prescott’s face reminds me of how he acted all creepy and handsy in the boat. A realization rattles around the back of my mind, so close to coming to the forefront. I lose it before I can bring it to light, though.

  Blaze gestures to a pile of books on the floor. “We got some new volumes in today. Take them back to your library. See what you can discover.”

  I turn to Lincoln. “Tell me you know where his library is.”

  Even through the mask, I can tell my guy is smiling. “That I do.”

  Sweet.

  Prescott rushes over to a pile of leather-bound tomes and scans the bindings. “These are good. Very good. Some Greco-Roman histories.” Prescott scoops up the books and sets them against his chest. “I have a good feeling here. These books will be the key to finding Lucifer’s coin. I know it.”

  “Then, you better find it soon.” Blaze’s voice takes on a menacing tone. “If you want your Lady back, then this is the only way it happens.”

  Prescott rushes to stand before Blaze. “I do. You know I do.”

  Blaze stands, and it’s clear that he’s a half head taller than Prescott, even if you don’t count the man-bun. “My brothers and I don’t like hiding out here. We’re not allowed home without the coin, and every day that passes, it becomes less likely that we’ll be able to return.”

  Prescott’s eyes take on a wild look. “You mean the young usurper? The man who stole away the throne from your people?”

  A weight of dread tightens through my insides. The young usurper. He means Lincoln. How many thrax really believe this to be the case? I mean, I knew Aldred thought that Rixa stole the crown from them. But what about the rest of Lincoln’s people? How deep does the betrayal go?

  Blaze nods. “Before our enemy gets locked up, he could cause a lot of problems for those of us in this room.”

  Lincoln shakes his head. I know my guy well enough to guess what he’s thinking. These five are totally screwed, no matter what Prescott finds.

  “I won’t fail you, Blaze.” A bead of sweat rolls down Prescott’s cheek. “Believe me.”

  “You have until tomorrow. We need the coin by the coin by Friday; it’s as simple as that. Our master has something special planned for the usurper this Sunday.”

  Sunday. Our wedding day. And Aldred plans to ruin it. Yet another reason to hate him.

  “I…I’ll do my best,” stammers Prescott. “What will you do with the coin once you have it?”

  “That’s for my Master and your Lady to decide.”

  Those are the words that come from Blaze’s mouth, but the dark look in his eyes? That tells a different story. That warrior knows exactly what will happen when Aldred gets the coin.

  He’ll release Armageddon.

  I shiver, thinking of the last time I saw Armageddon’s army march across Purgatory, leaving a trail of smoke, blood, and destruction behind them. It’s not something I ever want to witness again.

  Prescott steps closer to the door. “I’ll take these to my office right away. And I’ll find that coin. You can trust me.” He rushes off into the night.

  For a time, I watch Prescott race through the trees and back to the school. What is that dude’s deal, anyway? I ponder for a few moments before I realize how easy it is to pick out Prescott’s silhouette through the trees. We must’ve been here longer than I thought. It’s getting light out.

  I tap Lincoln’s shoulder and point in the direction of my cabin. “We should head back.”

  Lincoln nods and together, we slip through the forest. As we step along, the night demons disappear under the growing light. Dawn will be here soon. Once we’re well away from the rickety cabin, Lincoln speaks again. “Prescott’s library is in his office. It’s the only one on the island. That’s why he was so excited about your father’s donation. He wants to build something far grander.”

  “Can you get in there?”

  Lincoln shakes his head. “It’s guarded, and faculty must make an appointment to enter.”

  A sly smile rounds my lips. “What about students who misbehave?” This was a specialty of mine back at Purgatory High.

  “They go right in.” Lincoln’s eye fill with mischief. “Do you think you can get sent to the headmaster’s office?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “That’s my Myla.”

  It’s all I can do not to yell “mwah-hah-hah.” After what I saw tonight, I’m totally wound up about Prescott being a tool, a murderer, or both. Long story short, I can’t wait to get in trouble with him again.

  17

  All that snooping around on the north side of the island—combined with my extracurricular activities with Lincoln—make for one tired quasi-demon. Once I get back into my cabin, I crawl back into bed, close my eyes, and fall right to sleep.

  I barely have time to hit a REM cycle when my alarm starts ringing. It takes me a few seconds to remember I have to attend breakfast this morning at Jamboree Hall.

  Blech.

  I sit up and scrub my hands over my face.

  It’s Friday. Not even a full day left to find the codex.

  Excitement heats my bloodstream. After last night, we know the codex is in Prescott’s office. My mouth winds into a semi-evil smile. I’m so going to enjoy worming my way in there.

  I drag my butt out of bed, take a quick shower, and get dressed in my new uniform. I scope myself out in the mirror and come to the conclusion that I hate all uniforms on principle.

  Still, knowing that Lincoln likes to see me in skirts takes a little of the sting out of the situation. Once I’m all set, I follow the sound of the bell to Jamboree Hall. A pair of girls makes their way through the trees. Their faces look pale and their movements are jittery.

  I saunter over and slap on my best
smile. “Good morning!”

  The two of them say something that sounds like “mumble-mumbling.” I think that’s good morning if you’re human and spent the night terrified of the demons outside your cabin.

  No question about it. Those rumors about this place being haunted are definitely due to the freewheeling demon fiesta. I still can’t believe how many I saw last night.

  One mystery down, a ton to go.

  I follow the wooden signs toward Jamboree Hall. With every step, I get more ticked off. That damned Acca demon patrol. If they’d been doing their jobs instead of scheming against Lincoln’s family, these girls wouldn’t look like extras from Dawn of the Dead.

  As I close in on the hall, real pathways start to appear through the woods. The trails all lead up to a large building that looks like a modern-style barn. It’s two stories high and made of stainless steel and concrete. The huge windows are framed in glossy wood. More log cabin meet modern art.

  I walk into Jamboree Hall. It’s an open space with long tables across the floor and a low stage on the far side of the room. Along the right wall, a long buffet table stands, its surface heaped with food. I scan the pickings and although there are no demon bars, there’s another one of my favorite treats: bacon.

  Oh, yeah.

  I eagerly step into line and load up my plate with all sorts of bad-for-you breakfast stuff. One thing I’ll say for this place, they do not skimp on breakfast. By the time I’m through the line, I’ve got an omelet, cheese sandwich thingy, and a Jenga-like tower of bacon on my plate.

  I’m so excited for this pile of greasy yumminess, I almost walk right into Lincoln without noticing. Of course, his tray is piled high with healthy crap. There’s a bowl of granola and a bunch of figs. I stare at the tray in disbelief. “Figs? What are you, ninety?”

  “Good morning,” he says smoothly. “I’m Mr. Prince, one of the new teachers. And you are?”