The Angel of Olden Academy ✓

chapter two

When I woke, light poured in through the window above my bed. I sat up wearily. It was midday, I decided—the castle grounds were bustling with students on their way to class. I felt an overwhelming fondness for the university as I stared out at its stone towers and broad courtyards. Mother and Father had gone to a college strictly for demons back in America, but no one was unwelcome at Olden.

I watched two girls chasing each other across the lawn, laughing uncontrollably, and fondness sank into frustration. What was I doing in this fucking bed? How many classes had I missed?

I was about to heave myself up, exhaustion and all, when the angel—Adam Holland, he'd said his name was—came through the curtain again. He was holding a steaming mug, and looked tired, like he hadn't slept all night. I supposed that he hadn't, with a job like this. It was nice to know that I wasn't the only one suffering.

"Oh." He started. "You're awake."

"Problem?" I muttered.

"No, no," he said quickly, setting down the mug and taking a seat on his stool. "You've been mostly unconscious for three days. We got you up to go to the bathroom once or twice, but that's about it. Your friend—Viola, I believe—she's been to visit a few times." He nodded to a set of clothes on the table. "She brought you those."

Days. It had felt like minutes. And Viola ... how many times had I told her we were through?

"This is for you as well." He gestured to the mug. "I had it enchanted to stay warm until you woke. Pointless now, I suppose." He saw my suspicion and added, "It's a concoction of Ezer root and some other vitalizing herbs. Unfortunately, the Masters have yet to discover a cure, but this should restore some of the energy you've lost."

"Fine," I grumbled, reaching for the mug.

He smiled at me. "You're not quite so angry when you sleep. Rather peaceful, actually. It's endearing."

I snarled at him. "You're an angel. You know that, right? You have one job, and it's to defeat evil." I held out my arms. "Here I am."

He smiled again. That smile was unfairly brilliant, and it was beginning to get on my nerves. "You must be hungry," he said. "I'll get you something to eat."

When he came back, I had already changed my pants and was cross-legged on the bed, unbuttoning my shirt. His eyes fell on my bare chest as I pushed the shirt off my shoulders, and he blushed.

"Take the concoction before you eat," he mumbled, turning to leave.

"Wait," I said. "How long am I stuck here?"

He cleared his throat, not meeting my eyes. I could have spared him and pulled on the new shirt—but this was much more fun. "We'd like to keep you here until you're healed. We don't fully understand the nature of the sickness, so—"

"Great." I stretched back on the bed and noticed him moving his hands in and out of his pockets, then behind his back, then into his pockets again. I smirked.

"Adam?" someone asked, and a dark head of hair peeked through the curtain.

Adam jumped, and the boy grinned, moving into the room and pecking the angel on the cheek. "Sorry, sorry, I know I shouldn't bother you at work."

Adam stared at him. "Leo. I'm with a patient."

Leo looked at me. I smiled a mouthful of fangs. He gasped.

"Don't mind him," Adam said, and pulled Leo past the curtain.

Their muffled voices carried to my ears.

Leo: "You're treating a demon?"

Adam: "Yes."

Leo: "Couldn't anyone else have done it? I don't think this is ... safe."

Adam: "Leo, he's harmless. He mostly just sleeps."

Leo: "Harmless? Are you kidding?"

Adam: "No."

Leo sighed heavily. "Go on a date with me."

Adam: "I'm busy."

Leo sighed again, even heavier. "I know. But you promised me another chance, and they'll survive without you for an hour."

There was a long pause. "Okay," Adam said. "One hour."

Then they were gone.

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I lay in bed, drifting in and out of consciousness, thinking about Mother and Father. Surely the school had sent word when I'd fallen ill—days ago. I hadn't expected a fucking care package, but a letter would have been nice. Olden didn't permit phones.

Someone came through the curtain. I decided it was probably the angel, back from his date with the simpering human, and ignored him. Then my eyes caught the glint of red hair.

"Viola?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Miss me?"

Viola Ellington was beautiful. Everyone said so. Ethan and Sander, the only other demons in our year—and therefore my only friends—thought I was an idiot when I broke up with her. They decided it had to do with me being bisexual; I made sure they knew exactly how stupid that was.

"Look," I began, and Viola cut me off.

"I know, we're done, I get it." Her eyes wandered over my face. I probably looked like shit. "I just thought someone should be here for you. Especially with that angel hanging around."

"People are here for me," I said, defensive.

She rolled her eyes. "Ethan and Sander haven't even stopped by."

"Yeah, well, mates don't typically watch each other sleep."

She grinned. "You're starting to talk like us, you know? I even think I hear a bit of an accent sometimes."

I was too tired to smile back. "Whatever."

She leaned over me and kissed me on the forehead. "I'll tell Ethan and Sander you're not dead."

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