Ascend (Celestial Academy Book 1) Page 2

  When I was little, I used to wonder where he was all the time. The first time I realized he was different was when I was about six. Surprisingly, I had convinced him to go to my elementary school harvest festival. It was warm, but he still chose to wear a suit. He always wore a suit and I had never seen him wear anything else.

  It was there, in the middle of the carnival when he was buying me ice cream, that I realized he was different than the other parents. The other parents didn't seem to think it was weird he was wearing an expensive suit while they were in jeans and T-shirts. In fact, they had looked at him as if he was the most beautiful man they had laid eyes on. Even the men.

  It's not that he looked different than a human, but there was just something about him and his presence that sent emotions soaring. Especially if a person had done something that was of questionable morals. Most of the time he blocked me from having to feel this aspect of himself, but I could tell he was letting just a little bit of his fear inducing spell, or whatever it was, leak out.

  I took a long gulp of my drink and put the can on the counter, popping the tab off and fiddling with it. I watched as he rinsed his cup and put it in the dishwasher.

  "What's your plan?" He leaned against the counter opposite the island, crossing his legs at the ankles.

  I continued to fiddle with the tab, spinning it on the counter. "I guess get a job. Any job openings in hell?" A laugh left my lips and died a silent death as he stared at me. There was no way he was going to let me live or work in hell. No. That would be impossible.

  I had only been to hell once. For five minutes. Five minutes of pain.

  "What about college? Get your GED and then enroll in some classes."

  Here I was having a conversation with the devil about taking college courses as if everything was normal. Everything was definitely not normal.

  "I don't like school. You know that. Maybe I can help your demons with some of the jobs they do here." I looked at him hopefully.

  "Absolutely not. You aren't meant to..." His voice trailed off and he stared past me and into the living room before running a hand over his face. "You're not meant for that life."

  I cleared my throat. "You're the devil."

  "That doesn't mean I want you to be. Your mother would skin me alive."

  My chest felt tight and I grabbed my soda and took another drink. "My mother is dead."

  He ran his hands over his tie, pulling it from his vest and loosening it around his neck before dropping his hands to his sides and clenching them open and closed a few times.

  "A fact I'm very well aware of." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and swiped across the screen. "I've been thinking that maybe it's time I reach out to the others."

  He rarely talked about them, but from what I could tell from the brief mentions of them, they weren't enemies, but they weren't friends either.

  "What do you mean reach out to them?" I narrowed my eyes at him before following him into the living room as he pressed buttons.

  He glanced up briefly from the screen before he held it up to his ear, the faint sound of the ring-back filling the quiet room. I plopped down in my seat on the couch and pulled a pillow into my lap, hugging it to my chest. He went to the window and opened the curtains to look out at the backyard.

  When he started talking to whoever he had called, his grip tightened on his phone and his voice sounded like it was shaking slightly. I squeezed the pillow tighter.

  After a few strings of bullshit small talk he got to the point. "I have a daughter... I don't know how it happened... Yes, I'm sure she's mine... She doesn't have wings..." He finished his conversation and inhaled a sharp breath before slowly turning to face me with a tight smile on his face.

  "Chamuel will be here in five minutes." He set his phone on the coffee table and sat on the edge of a chair. He straightened his tie and shoved it back in his vest.

  I watched his movement before scooting over to the cushion at the end of the couch nearest him. "You invited an angel here to the house?" I shrugged out of my sweater, suddenly feeling hot, and ran my hand over my mouth. "Why would you do that?"

  He shut his eyes before shaking his head as he spoke. "My blood hasn't changed Danica. That makes you half-angel. Maybe I've been wrong in keeping this from them. Especially since I can't be here all the time and your attraction to trouble."

  I stood up, sending the pillow I was holding to the floor and crossed my arms over my chest. "So now you suddenly show interest in how much trouble I'm causing?"

  He opened his mouth and then shut it. After clearing his throat, he said, "You're walking around punching people in the face. Who knows what else you've been doing. So, yes, I'm concerned."

  I let out a laugh at the absurdity of the whole conversation. The devil was concerned that I had punched someone in the face. At what I was doing when he left me alone eighty percent of the time to be raised by nannies and caregivers.

  "And where were you?"

  He flinched at my words but didn't say anything before he stood and went back to stare out the window.

  "Let me know once you and the angel decide my fate." I kicked the pillow out of my way and ran up to my bedroom, slamming the door shut behind me.

  I really should have stayed downstairs.

  Chapter Two

  My inability to not act impulsively really got me into a pickle, and not just a slice of pickle on a hamburger, but a world record-sized gherkin of a pickle. Had I stayed downstairs, then maybe I could have at least argued with what Lucifer and Chamuel decided was best for me. Instead, I had given them all the power to make my life miserable.

  Yes, I was of legal age. Yes, I could say no. But could I really? I had no family to speak of besides Lucifer, and independent living without a high school diploma in the Santa Barbara area was an impossibility. So pretty much, I was screwed.

  I pulled the tape dispenser across the box and sealed it shut, the sound making my ears want to bleed. Maybe I could invent a quiet packing tape dispenser and not be shipped off to hell.

  I had never had to pack my belongings before. We had always lived in this house; well, I had, at least. I had kissed my first boy and lost my virginity here. I had gotten drunk and high here. All things that a father who was present shouldn't have allowed to happen.

  I put together another box and dumped my underwear and bras into it before throwing a stack of tank tops and t-shirts on top. I really needed to pare down my collection; it was borderline excessive. Some people liked their shoes, I liked feeling sexy at all moments of the day by way of a lot of lace in every color under the sun. At least I'd have cute underwear underneath the hideous uniforms at the training school I was being shipped off to.

  I hadn't even known there were schools for angels until Lucifer sat me down on the couch later that night and dropped the bomb on me. Los Angeles Celestial Academy, one of four academies for college-aged guardian angels. Located in the Angeles National Forest under special protective wards, it was where the top angels were sent to hone their angel knowledge and skills.

  I was definitely not a top angel. I wasn't even sure I qualified as one given I had no wings and hadn't died. There were two ways to become an angel: being created or ascending upon death. Once a soul had ascended they were faced with a choice to remain in heaven or serve a greater cause and become a guardian angel on Earth.

  I don't see how Chamuel thought sending me to an academy to become some kind of savior was in mine or the world's best interest. What could I offer someone in their time of need? A toke from a joint I used to attempt to stay focused on my school work? Maybe a swig of vodka from a water bottle? It was doubtful my soul would even make it to heaven if I died. I wasn't bad per se, but I certainly wasn't good or angel material.

  Besides having an extra class to study for my GED (which Lucifer was adamant about), I'd be subject to tortures such as Defensive Flight Techniques, The Portrayal of Angels in Modern Literature, Introduction to Demonology, and General World Studies. Sh
oot. Me. Now. I had barely even made it to trigonometry.

  Ava entering my bedroom snapped me out of my pity party and I snatched my hot chocolate with extra whipped cream from her hands. There were most likely not any Starbucks where I was going unless I wanted to drive thirty minutes into the city.

  "Are you sure you really have to go? You're eighteen, you could just get a job," Ava said flopping down in my desk chair and taking the straw out of her drink to lick the whip cream from it.

  I sighed and dumped my jean drawer into another box, not caring that by doing so I was wasting space. I looked at Ava and wondered what she would think or say if she knew the truth about me, about Lucifer. She was so strait-laced it would probably rock her world. We were unlikely friends to say the least.

  "You've met my dad, right? He doesn't care that I'm eighteen. What he says goes." I taped the box shut and grabbed a red Sharpie to write on it. "Plus, it's not like I can get a job that pays well without a GED."

  Ava leaned forward to see what I had written and snorted a laugh. I couldn't wait to see the reaction of the angels as boxes labeled with dildos, bondage, and porn were carried down the hall.

  "What is he, a mobster or something? Just tell him you aren't going and move out. I bet my parents would let you stay with us for a while." She stood and grabbed the Sharpie from me before adding the word 'hardcore' to the box labeled 'porn.'

  "It's a little more complicated than that." I looked around my room, making sure I wasn't forgetting anything. "I think I'm all packed."

  Ava put her arms around me. "Promise you won't forget about me."

  "Don't you forget about me." The musical quality of my voice caused us to both belt out Don't You (Forget About Me) by Simple Minds a la Breakfast Club. It was a fitting song for us to sing considering I was about to endure the longest detention in the history of detentions.

  The SUV that came to pick up my boxes was a pearlescent white monstrosity that screamed angel, and not just because two angels were driving it. The two men that were sent to pick up my boxes kept staring at me when they thought I wasn't looking, and not because they found me attractive. Although I'd like to think that maybe a small part of them did.

  It also didn't help that I had every box labeled inappropriately. So inappropriately, that one of the men had stepped out into the hallway and made a call. Surely angels had sex and had senses of humor.

  I followed behind the SUV for the almost two-hour drive from Montecito to Angeles National Forest. Had they seriously set up a school there because of the name? Hell, the school might have even been there before Los Angeles was even a city.

  My stomach tightened as we drove on the two-lane highway and turned down a gravel road. Dirt and rocks hit the sides of my car and I flinched thinking of how tortured my car must be feeling. Black was the worst color for dust.

  As we traveled down the dirt road, I felt rather than saw the shift in the air as we passed through the wards that hid the campus amongst the trees. As we came down a hill, it came into view and I couldn't help but let my mouth fall open.

  There were ten massive brick buildings that spread out across a wide area with large swaths of grass and trees. I'd been entertaining the thought that it might look like Hogwarts, but it looked like something straight out of the English countryside. The grass was so green it felt out of place in the drought-stricken area. Maybe that was why Southern California was perpetually dry; the angels were stealing all the water.

  I followed the SUV to a smaller brick building set off from the rest of the buildings and parked in an empty spot. There were only a few other cars, most being SUVs. I guess they didn't need cars here since they had wings and all that jazz. Even if I did have wings, I'd still want a car.

  I slid out of my car just as a man walked out the door and walked over to us. I licked my lips as he approached. He was singlehandedly the most attractive male specimen I had ever laid eyes on. His dark brown hair was cut short and looked like he had run his fingers through it. His beard was close cut and well groomed. He looked muscular with wide shoulders and a narrowed waist under his blue Dodgers sweatshirt. I bet he had abs. Men with shoulders like that always had abs.

  His brown eyes quickly took me in from head to toe before he met my eyes. I wondered what he was expecting when he was given the task of greeting me. I felt naked instead of having on a pair of skinny jeans and crop top that bared about an inch of my stomach. I should have put on a longer shirt.

  No. No, I wouldn't change who I was just because I was in the presence of angels. They were humans once; surely they had seen some skin.

  "I would have taken you for an Angels fan, not the Dodgers." I smiled lightly and stood a little straighter.

  His mouth turned up slightly before falling flat again, and he shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "I'm Tobias Armstrong. I'll be your advisor and instructor for one of your courses."

  His voice was... well you know how there's that phrase, voice of an angel? There's some truth to it. It made my breath catch and I cleared my throat, hoping he hadn't noticed. I took a step forward and reached out my hand.

  "Danica Deville." Instead of taking my hand in a handshake, he shifted from one foot to the other before pulling a key and fob out of his pocket and holding it out over my outstretched hand.

  A dull ache started building in my chest because, what the hell? Who doesn't shake someone's hand when offered? I turned my hand palm up and he dropped the keys into it. I stared at them in my open hand before I curled my fingers around them, my hand shaking ever so slightly.

  I had known going to this school was going to be difficult given who I was, but after my interactions with the movers and now this guy, I wondered what the students were going to be like.

  "This is the faculty and staff building. The dean felt it was better to have you here than in the student dorms." He offered no other explanation, and he didn't need to.

  The ache spread like someone was sitting on my chest and my feet felt heavy. He turned and walked towards the door he had exited from. They were scared of me. Scared of what I might do to the other students here.

  "Are you coming?" He glanced back at me with slightly raised eyebrows.

  I nodded and plastered on a smile before following him. He scanned his own fob and we entered a large common room. I was immediately drawn to the large fireplace with chairs and couches angled towards it. I'd probably never get to enjoy it since I would be living with my teachers.

  I groaned internally at the thought of being under their scrutiny at all times. I probably couldn't get away with smoking or sneaking out. Pasadena wasn't that far away, but any hopes of at least somewhat enjoying this torture-fest were slowly dwindling away.

  "Where is everyone?" I asked as we approached a large split staircase. There wasn't another person in sight; surprising since it was Sunday.

  "Working." It didn't seem he was going to give me much more than that.

  "Isn't Sunday supposed to be a day of rest? Hell, Chick-fil-a is closed but an angel school has people working?" I bit the inside of my cheek after the words left my mouth. He grunted but didn't respond. I was setting a really good first impression and probably digging my grave deeper.

  I increased my pace to catch up to him so I wouldn't be tempted to watch his ass as we walked up the stairs. There was no denying that he was attractive. We went to the right and into a hallway that had several doors. The only sounds were our shoes on the hardwood floors. It was a ghost town.

  We stopped at the last door and he moved out of the way so I could open the door. I was pleasantly surprised at the size of the room and the attached bathroom. They may have stuck me with the teachers and staff, but at least the room was decent enough. The furniture was white wood and included a full-sized bed, dresser, desk, futon, and a small kitchenette.

  Tobias didn't move an inch from his spot near the opened door as I looked around and pulled the curtains open to let light in. I could see clear across campus to what looked
like a football field.

  "Does this work for you? Chamuel didn't really tell us what to expect."

  I glanced over at him as he shifted from one foot to the other. He looked down the hall and then back at me. Clearly, I made him nervous.

  "I'm a little disappointed with the size of the bed. I guess my days of orgies are over." I walked towards him and he quickly backed up into the hall, a slight pink tint creeping onto his cheeks just above his beard line.

  "Uhh... well. You don't necessarily need a bed for that." Eyes wide and looking at the floor, his hand went to the back of his neck. He rubbed it before he brought it to his beard and then ran his hand through his hair.

  I brushed past him and he leaned back slightly as my arm touched his shirt. It was subtle, the tiniest of movements, but it was enough to be noticeable. And painful. Was I really so revolting?

  I took off down the hall without a word as the two angels tasked to moving me in walked by with narrowed glances. If Lucifer's goal was to punish me, well, this was doing the job.

  Once I returned to my room after sitting in my car while the SUV was unloaded, I looked through the binder left on the desk. There were so many rules and protocols. No smoking. No drinking. Lights out at eleven on weeknights. Blah. Blah. Blah. Who did these angels think they were, a military school for misfits?

  I was eighteen years old and from what little I did know about this school, it was for college-aged angels. What could they possibly do if an angel broke a rule? Ground them?

  I opened the window and let in the fresh air, suddenly feeling like the walls of the room were closing in on me. I still couldn't shake the hurt I had felt when Mr. Armstrong had visibly been repulsed by me. It's not like I had horns or even looked evil. Lucifer wasn't even evil.

  Sure, he had a dark side. Anyone cast out of heaven would. If anything, the other angels should be grateful that he controlled the dark depths of hell so well. There hadn't been a major incident with demons in centuries.