Angel Academy

Chapter Twenty-Five

Dozens of them, all mounted to the wall like trophies.

My eyes start to burn and I swallow the lump in my throat. "This is horrible," I breathe.

"Yes, it is."

My head snaps towards the hall. Logan stands in the doorway, watching me with his empty black stare. His arms are crossed over his chest but otherwise he doesn't seem fazed by my intrusion into his room.

I swallow again. "Why?" I croak out.

"I killed them," he says.

I shake my head. "And what? You keep their wings as souvenirs?"

He shakes his head. "Simply reminders."

I look back at the wall with a grimace. Most of the wings are covered in blood or dirt and marred with scars and wounds. There are so many that the wall behind it isn't even visible anymore. The floor beneath is blanketed with feathers.

A twinge of relief passes through me when I see that none of these wings are small enough to belong to a child at least.

I suddenly spot a very large and very familiar feather on the floor amidst the others. It is black, streaked with silver. My eyes widen and I look questioningly at Logan. He nods.

My mouth falls open. "Do you have them too?" I ask.

He nods again and I cover my mouth with a small cry. I take a deep breath and fight back the tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. "Where?" I whisper.

He walks over to the third wall and unlatches a door I didn't even realize was there. He holds it open and looks at me expectantly.

I chew on the inside of my cheek. I push down my concerns with a deep breath, then limp into the connected room.

Three pairs of wings are on display, but not like the others. These ones are clean and beneath each sits a table.

The first set of wings are black and silver. And on the table is a gleaming silver sword.

The second set of wings are snow white. A beautifully strange dagger lies on the table, its curved blade engraved with delicate designs and its hilt encrusted with precious stones.

The last ones are pure gold. The table holds a black crossbow and a quiver of thick black arrows with red feathered tails.

I don't know who the gold wings belonged to but I definitely recognize the first two. I fall against the wall in shock. "Why would you take their wings? You didn't kill them," I mutter.

"They are still reminders."

I suck in a shuddering breath and turn around. "Where are their bodies?"

***

My legs collapse, and I fall to the ground. In the center of the clearing are three graves. The sun is high in the sky and shines directly on the headstones.

A Warrior. A Friend. A Savior.

Tears stream down my face as I dig my fingers into the grass. "Ten years," I sputter, "I can finally say goodbye after ten years."

I lay sobbing on the ground for what feels like hours before I can stop the tears. I wipe my eyes on my shirt and breathe deeply. My face is probably red and puffy and my hair is no doubt full of dirt and twigs.

"Who's the third one? The one with the golden wings?" I ask. My voice comes out as a painful rasp.

"He saved my daughter," Logan tells me.

My eyebrows knit together in confusion. "You have a daughter?" I ask.

He nods.

"He saved her from what?"