Fallen Academy: Year Two (Fallen Academy #2)(33)

The blood drained from Lincoln’s face and he pulled a gun. “Jump!” he shouted, raising the weapon.

Oh God. What’s behind me?

Having your boyfriend point a gun at you—even if it wasn’t directly at you—was not cool, but I leapt off the crusted ground with my good leg, tucking the weapons into my body in a way that wouldn’t gore me when I landed.

As I sailed through the space, Lincoln popped off multiple shots, shooting over my head and into the hole. I hit the pile of cushions with a crash, the wind still knocked out of me as I let the weapons fall away from my body.

Loud yells and grunts rose up behind me, and I rolled off the pile of pillows to see the shrinking portal and the group of angry demons beyond it. My freaking calf muscle was on fire, but I knew better then to complain—if I did, Lincoln would probably shoot me.

One more stream of acid shot through the opening, and we all scrambled out of the way to dodge it. Then, the portal closed.

Slowly, every single person turned to look in my direction.

I held up Sera. “Got it.” I gave a nervous laugh.

Lincoln slowly stalked toward me, jaw clenched, eyes on me like a predator, and I knew in that moment that he was pissed as all hell. He leaned down to me and my heart thumped, but instead of helping me up, he reached for his blade and stood, sliding it into his sheath.

“Heal her leg,” he barked at Noah, then spun on his heel and left the room.

‘He’s mad at you. Like really mad at you.’ Sera’s voice, however annoying sometimes, was a welcome sound in my head. Just not right then.

‘Your knowledge of human emotions astounds me,’ I informed her.

‘Ew, sarcasm,’ Sera hissed.

Noah reached down and did help me up. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

I looked at Shea, sweat still beading on her forehead, and reached for her hand. “You okay?”

She nodded, holding her stomach. “Just feel a bit ill. That place… it was hard to be there.”

“Yeah,” I lied. But it hadn’t been hard. It had felt a bit… heavy, but once I got used to it, I was fine.

Oh God, what’s wrong with me?





Chapter Thirteen





Lincoln ignored me on the bus ride back into Angel City, and it had me feeling like shit. I had to go in there or I never would have gotten Sera back. Yes, it was reckless, but it had all worked out in the end.

Finally, as the bus approached the school, Lincoln walked to the back row, where I was sitting alone, and slid next to me. Shea had intentionally left it open in hopes that he would.

He sat rigid, face forward. “How’s your leg?” he asked.

My heart melted a little at his concern. “Burns a lot, but at least it’s not bleeding anymore. Noah said it’ll scar.”

Lincoln nodded curtly, finally turning to look at me. “You sleeping over?”

It was a weekend. I always slept over on weekends. I had my Sunday family thing with Mikey and my mom the following day, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t sleep over.

“You’re pissed at me, so why do you want me to sleep over?” I hit him with the obvious truth.

He smirked a little. “Because I also love you, and I’m concerned about your leg—and your sanity—so I want to keep an eye on you. I’ll be sleeping on the couch.”

“Oh.” That hurt. Not the sanity part, because he said stuff like that all the time—that was actually our way of flirting, verbal jabs—but the part about sleeping on the couch hurt.

Still, I couldn’t say no. I needed to repair this between us. He was everything to me.

“Yeah. I’ll sleep over.” My voice was barely a whisper, but it was enough to be heard as he nodded again.

After the bus pulled up to the school, Lincoln thanked them all, and declared the mission a success. But I could see behind that fake glassy smile. He was so pissed, and I was surprised he hadn’t exploded on me yet.

I sensed a verbal ass-kicking when we got back to his place.



Sure enough, the moment he closed the door behind us, he spun on me. “Just tell me why. Why do you always put yourself in these life-threatening situations? Are you suicidal?”

That hurt. As someone who’d had dark thoughts every once in a while, I knew you didn’t just scream, “Are you suicidal?” in someone’s face.

“No. I love my life. I love you. But I love my family too. Shea was worth the risk. Mikey is worth the risk. My mother will be worth the risk. Sera—”

“Sera is a fucking knife!” He cut me off with a strangled yell.

‘I resent that,’ Sera said from my hip. I tried to ignore her.

“Yeah, she is to you, but she’s special to me. I love her, and I know that sounds crazy, but I also need her to free my mom. I’m powerful, but I’m not that powerful. I need her to protect my family. I made a risky call and I’m sorry. I didn’t grow up in Beverly Hills, with golden sunrays filtering through the breakfast window every morning, as we sat around and talked about angels. I’m from the hood, Lincoln!” I screamed, my hands shaking. “In the hood, we learn to survive at all costs. We take risks because they present themselves every day, and in my life? Family. Comes. First.”

I swear to God, if he challenged me, I would somehow breathe fire into his face, I was that livid.