Fallen Academy: Year Two (Fallen Academy #2)(13)

We’d made it to the bed and fell into it together. Lincoln pulled off his shirt in one of those sexy one-handed moves and pressed his pelvis against me. I moaned and gripped the back of his neck, peppering his shoulder with kisses as he started to unbutton my pants.

“School starts tomorrow,” I huffed, panting. “You know what that means?”

His eyes were practically glowing as he looked up at me from kissing my belly button.

“What?”

I grinned. “I don’t have to call you ‘sir’ anymore.”

The grin was wiped off my face and exploded into a moan as he worked his tongue magic. I’d call him ‘sir’ for the rest of my life as long as he kept doing that.



“Thank you for seeing me, Brielle.” Mr. Claymore motioned me to step into his office.

“Are you kidding? When I got your message, I was so excited I barely slept.”

We were only a few days into school, and he thought he’d found a spell that could remove my devil mark. Setting my bag on the floor, I took a seat in a chair across his desk. Class started in forty-five minutes, but I’d willingly gotten up at six thirty to be ready for this.

He smiled, and I couldn’t help but notice how kind his eyes were. Other than the streaks of gray in his brown hair, you wouldn’t know he was an older man.

“Now, I want to warn you, this may not work. So don’t get your hopes up.” Pulling off his thick black cloak, he laid it over his chair and rolled up his sleeves.

I nodded. “Got it. Totally not overexcited or anything.” I bopped in my seat, trying to hide my grin.

He chuckled. “Come in!”

A frown pulled at my lips, not having heard anyone knock, and was surprised to see Raphael step into the room, tucking his wings back as far as he could to squeeze into the space.

“Hello, Brielle.” His voice was always so calm.

“Hey. Wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

He made his way behind Mr. Claymore’s desk, and looked up at me with his piercing blue eyes. The way his golden blond hair glowed around his shoulders, sort of reminded me of the halos Catholics always depicted around the angels’ heads. “Oh, I’m just here to drop a little Celestial magic and leave. What you two do with it is none of my concern.”

He winked just as his hands suddenly glowed with a crazy bright orange healing light, so bright, I had to shield my eyes. I peeked back over to the desk, through my fingers, to see him pouring the golden light into a large jar. Once it was full, he nodded to Mr. Claymore, and moved back around the desk to the door.

“Have a good day,” he offered cheerfully, and then he left.

I busted out laughing. “That was super shady.”

Mr. Claymore chuckled softly, but then his face fell into a more stoic pose. “Raphael cannot directly help the humans, so he does what he can in obscure ways.”

My lips turned down into a frown. “Why not? What would happen if he did?”

Mr. Claymore put on a pair of thick leather gloves. “If he does… he can’t go home.”

Home?

‘Heaven, you dingbat,’ Sera barked.

‘Oh shit.’

“Oh. Why?” I was totally prying, but I needed to know everything about this.

The Light Mage picked up the jar with his thick leather gloves and sighed. “It’s just his penance, that’s all. Don’t worry. Now, this might hurt a bit, so take a deep breath.”

Raphael’s penance for what?

He was standing over me now, holding the glowing jar of Raphael’s magic, his own purple light beginning to sneak in and mix. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to drink it or what, until he upended it right onto my bare chest and a burning sizzle erupted across my flesh.

I hissed, as the golden purplish light saturated my chest, and sank into the skin there. Then, a cool minty feeling spread across it.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

I nodded, breathing in and out heavily, looking down at the tattoo that was still very much there. My skin was starting to turn an angry red, and the burning was back. Mr. Claymore began to chant, sprinkling clumps of salt down my shirt.

I was just starting to think this was going to work when movement to my left caught my eye. My head snapped to the side, and my mouth dropped at the portal that was slowly opening in the middle of the air.

“Uhhh,” I said, and pointed.

The Light Mage looked back at the portal and cursed, nearly dropping an entire bottle of salt on me.

“Get behind me,” he muttered.

Oh shit. Why can’t anything go my way?

I stood, pulling Sera out, and stepped behind the professor.

The portal grew wider and a dilapidated stone building came into view. The building didn’t scare me, but the stench of sulfur did.

“Is… is that Hell?” I gasped.

He was throwing streaks of purple across the room, which were attaching to the edges of the portal and forcing it closed.

My chest no longer burned, or felt cool, or felt… anything. I looked down, and other than a few grains of salt, it looked normal. The menacing skull with wings and a lopsided crown was still there, staring up at me.

My eyes flicked back up to see Mr. Claymore wrestling a tiny Yew demon that was trying to fly into the room with its little bat-like wings. It appeared as though Mr. Claymore had magically bound its mouth, purple energy bands wrapped around it like the rubber bands they put around lobster claws. That was a good thing considering they spit fire.