Ascend (Celestial Academy Book 1) Page 7

  I exited into the parking garage and took the elevator to the fifth floor. The doors slid open and I spotted my car, alone in the center of gray concrete walls and white lines. The echo of my shoes was the only sound besides distant screeching of tires on the floors below.

  I was halfway to my car when the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I clutched my keys in my hand, my thumb poised over the alarm. I turned my head and looked over my shoulder. Nothing.

  I wondered if men always felt like they had to look over their shoulders like women did. For once I would like to walk into a dark place and not wonder what lurked. The garage was eerily silent now, the only sounds the distant honking and whoosh of cars on the street below. I unlocked my car as I approached. And then I heard it.

  It was the faintest sound, like leaves blowing across the pavement. My heart leapt into my throat as I threw open my car door and started lowering myself into the bucket seat with my bags drawn to my chest.

  My head jerked back violently as a hand gripped my ponytail and pulled me back and up, my forehead hitting the edge of the car. My bags fell from my grip and onto the driver's seat and pavement next to the open door. A fine mist sprayed on my face, like water from a squirt bottle and I let out a scream as my head hit the pavement, sending a sharp pain through my skull.

  There was no time to fight back. One second I was about to sit in my car, and the next I was thrown to the rough cement of the parking garage. My head went fuzzy and my eye sockets began throbbing. Another scream was lodged in my throat, but the only sound escaping me was short, rasping breaths.

  Three men stood over me, their faces sneering and angry. They weren't that much older than me, but they looked rough, like they had lived twice or three times over. Two grabbed at my arms and legs. Adrenaline surged through me and I kicked and punched in a lame attempt at stopping them, but having just smashed my skull and there being three of them, I was up shit's creek without a paddle.

  My crossbody purse lay under me, but nothing in there would help me. I didn't have pepper spray in my purse. It was in my car because the idea of it accidently exploding wigged me out. An irrational and stupid fear.

  "Where the hell are her wings? Usually they pop out by now." The man not restraining me shoved a wadded-up cloth in my mouth before he zip tied my ankles and my hands.

  "I don't fucking know, man. She hit her head pretty hard. Let's go."

  The pressure of the zip ties dug into my skin and liquid dripped off of them, warming my skin where it touched. They picked me up like I was a trussed pig and carried me down the set of stairs near the elevator. A gray van waited with an open back door at the bottom of the stairs.

  I'd never quite experienced true, all-encompassing fear before. Not the kind you have when you walk through one of the haunted houses at theme parks, or the kind you feel when the school resource officer's drug sniffing dog finds weed in your locker. No, this fear reached deep inside and made my teeth ache.

  They threw me in the back of the van and slammed the door shut. I curled into a ball and coughed around the gag, my sobs making it hard to breathe. I tried spitting the rag out of my mouth but it just made me gag more.

  I heard the front door of the van open and then a scream. Loud sounds and shouts erupted from outside and the van shook several times before everything was silent besides the small sounds escaping around my gag.

  I had really reached my limit with the gags.

  The door of the van opened and a fourth man looked down at me, shadows from the hood he was wearing hiding his face.

  "I'm not going to hurt you." He had a blade and as he leaned in the bed of the van I kicked both legs out at him like I was a dolphin, connecting with his chest. He grunted but grabbed my legs anyway and cut off the zip tie. "Are you going to let me cut the one off your hands?"

  I scrambled back away from him, trying to catch my breath through the gag and my running nose. I was going to die if I didn't get air. I might already be dead. My head felt like it was going to explode like a pumpkin smashed in the middle of the street.

  The man waited while I looked at him with wide eyes. He had a bloody cut over his eye that was slowly trickling down his cheek and onto his black hooded sweatshirt. I could see the men who had attacked me laying in a heap just behind him. Literally, they were piled in a heap. Dead, I think.

  Who was this guy? Batman?

  I finally scooted forward because, between sobs and the gag, I was starting to feel dizzy, but that could have also been from hitting my head. I turned around and he sliced through the thick black plastic. I quickly yanked the cloth out of my mouth, taking in gulps of air.

  He slid his knife behind him and raised his empty hands in front of him, backing up several feet from the van. I followed and sat on the edge, my hands on my knees, still trying to steady my heart and catch my breath.

  "Who are you?" I managed to get out and stood up.

  Standing up lasted all of three seconds before my knees gave out and my world went dark.

  "Listen, asshole, I'm giving you the curtesy of a phone call so don't try to pull that bull shit with me... I told you, it was three Fallen... Yes, they were working together... Yes, I'm fucking sure... fuck you Toby, I'm not part of whatever it is they were up to, you should know that... Fine. I'll see you in five. Land on the roof, the door leads straight in."

  My eyes opened and I let out a moan as the dim light in the room hit my eyes. My eyes quickly scanned what was in my line of sight. Brick walls, shiny duct work, giant industrial ceiling fan. My eyes were slightly blurred but beyond the black wire railing surrounding a bedroom of sorts, the room was massive. Then it became clear I was on a very large, very comfortable bed.

  The vigilante snapped his eyes to the bed from where he was leaning against the railing and made his way to the side I was on. His bed. I was in Batman's bed.

  "Your boyfriend will be here in a few minutes. I hope you don't mind. I got into your phone and since he was your last text, I called him." A smirk spread across his face as he spoke.

  I should have known using a fingerprint to lock my phone was a stupid idea. It seemed safe at the time. He had called Tobias because of Tobias's text messages.

  My eyes widened and the smallest of thrills shot through me knowing what the smirk was about. He had seen the last texts in my phone. I felt heat rising to my cheeks.

  "I'm surprised you've been out so long. Usually angels heal up pretty quick." He placed my cell phone on the nightstand and ran his hands through his disheveled dark blond hair that came to his shoulders. "You want to try to sit up?"

  I nodded, my brain not quite caught up yet with everything. I must have hit my head harder than I thought. He had saved me. Brought me to his home. Called... Toby?

  I pushed myself up with a groan and scooted back against the pillows and metal headboard that matched the railing around the perimeter of the room.

  "You know Tobias?"

  I took a better look around. It was one giant open room with a kitchen, dining room, living room, and the bedroom. It appeared to be some kind of old building; the windows were similar to what an old warehouse or factory might have.

  "Do I know Toby? You could say that. I'm Asher." He held out his hand and I put my hand in his.

  His handshake was firm and sent tingles up my arm. Probably from the complete exhaustion my body felt. Probably.

  "Danica." I let my hand fall to my lap and squinted my eyes up at him. He had a really sharp jaw and his eyes were a slate blue, almost gray. "You shouldn't have let me sleep so long. I think I have a pretty bad concussion. How long was I out?"

  "About an hour. I honestly thought you'd be awake after a few minutes." He shrugged his shoulders and scratched the side of his scruffy face.

  He stood awkwardly at the side of the bed like he wanted to sit but wasn't sure if he should. He finally sat at the end of it.

  I stared at him for several long seconds before speaking. "They were fallen angels? The guys that atta
cked me? What did you do with them?"

  "They were. I killed them so now they are dead. Probably in hell."

  "I should call my dad so he can personally torture them." I flinched after the words left my lips. I wished sometimes I didn't just blurt out the first thing that popped into my head.

  His eyes widened slightly, drawing my attention to where he had a small cut above his eye. He shifted a little and I could tell he was thinking about who my father was. Since I had such a damn big mouth, I told him.

  "Lucifer is my father. I'm half human, half angel, or something. Do you think that's why the fallen attacked me?"

  If my admission made him nervous he didn't let it show. "There was an attack a few days ago. Angels can sense each other. Fallen can't sense other angels very well but if they are close enough they can feel others."

  "Is that why I feel all tingly and wired up when I'm around you or Tobias? No other angels have really gotten close enough to me."

  Another one of his smirks spread across his face and he chuckled. "Tingly, huh? When I say sense, I mean our brains register another angel in the area and when we see them they have a glow about them."

  If I could have died of embarrassment, I would have. I wasn't typically a blusher, but I felt my face burn red. Twice now he had made me blush.

  Asher's chuckles abruptly stopped as the metal door across the room slammed open, causing him to jump. Tobias walked in and down the metal stairs. As soon as he got close enough, I could see the worry etched on his face.

  He glared at Asher and then practically laid on top of me, pulling me into a hug.

  "Are you okay?"

  "Jesus, man. She isn't going to be if you manhandle her like that." Asher got off the bed and made his way down two steps and to the kitchen. He grabbed a glass that was half full of brown liquid and drank it in one gulp. Then he refilled it and did it again.

  "My head hurts, but I'm fine. Thanks to Asher." I felt I needed to add that last bit because the tension was so thick you could have cut it with a knife.

  "You're welcome," Asher said from across the room.

  Tobias rolled his eyes at Asher's words and let me go before standing.

  "Is her car here or back at the mall?"

  "It's here. I drove her back in it. I also picked up all the lingerie that had spilled out of one of the bags and put them in the trunk," Asher said, making his way back to the bed and standing near the two steps leading down.

  I wanted to crawl under a rock.

  Tobias ignored Asher's comment and held out his hand. "Let's get you home."

  I grabbed his hand and he pulled me to my feet. He let go and my body plopped right back on the bed like my muscles and bones were made of jelly.

  He tried to pick me up and I waved him away with my hand. My entire being ached and the thought of having to sit in a car and feel the movement and lights made me nauseous.

  "She has a pretty bad concussion, and apparently she can't heal. Maybe she should stay here the rest of the night. I'll sleep on the couch. Or maybe you can sleep on the couch."

  "Over my dead body." Tobias crossed his arms and turned his body towards Asher to glare at him.

  Asher was purposely trying to piss off Tobias, but why? I hadn't known Tobias all that long but he was pretty calm, not letting his emotions explode. There was something about Asher though that was making him narrow his eyes and stiffen his spine.

  "Have you forgotten already? Been there done that." Asher leaned against the brick wall behind him, propping one of his feet up with his knee bent like he had been waiting for this for a long time.

  Tobias walked to the end of the bed and stopped at the end closest to Asher, clenching his fists at his sides. The last thing I needed was for them to come to blows and not even be able to break them apart. Not that I'd be stupid enough to throw myself in the middle of two men who probably knew how to throw punches.

  "Guys, can you just put your dicks away for now. You're making my headache worse. How do you two even know each other anyway?"

  "You didn't tell her how you died yet? Shit, man. Seems like something you should tell the woman who's sending you sexy lingerie pics, doesn't it?"

  Tobias moved so quickly it made my head hurt even more, and punched Asher in the jaw, sending his head to the side and back into the brick wall. He slid down the wall and sat on the floor rubbing his jaw, a smile on his face.

  I shook my head and laid back down on the bed, kicking my shoes off. If they wanted to beat the shit out of each other, I really didn't care. All I wanted was to sleep.

  Chapter Seven

  Asher

  Death. It's something most angels have to go through to get to the angel part. Well, except for those created as angels. I didn't know what hell was like but being a fallen angel was not my cup of tea. In fact, most nights it was half a bottle of whiskey or a twelve pack.

  It's hard for angels at first. Realizing our lives were ripped away from us, floating around in heaven, waiting for enough time to pass so we could make a choice. A choice to serve as a guardian on Earth or a choice to serve in heaven. I chose the former, by the way.

  Any painful memories surrounding or leading up to our deaths are erased and all we're left with is the knowledge of how it happened and the memories of our life before. That's hard enough, the lost life.

  Unless you're Fallen.

  Then the missing memories come back.

  Which is why I drink like a fish and fuck like a rabbit.

  I looked over at Toby, who after sucker punching me in the fucking jaw, poured himself a whiskey without asking, and joined me on the large sectional sofa. I hadn't seen him in ten or so years and the first thing he does is punch me and steal my alcohol.

  I really couldn't blame him for punching me though. I would have done worse, but I'm a dick. Tobias Armstrong is not. He is a saint, well, except for the student he seems to be sleeping with.

  We fought together in World War II. He was like an older brother to me, taking me under his hypothetical, but now literal, wing. We survived D-Day, liberated towns, and died during the Battle of the Bulge.

  It was cold that day, snow blanketing the ground when the Germans closed in on us. I don't even remember the exact date, not sure I even knew then what day of the week it was. Hell, it might have even been Christmas. We were well into the Battle of the Bulge though, and losing. At least we won the war. Well, the other soldiers did.

  I stared down into my whiskey glass, Toby's presence bringing me back to that particular day.

  "We're going to die, Toby. I don't want to fucking die." I was sniveling like a pansy-ass as debris, gunfire, and explosions rained down on our platoon.

  "Shut up. We'll be fine. We've lasted this long." Tobias climbed back up the side of the bank and fired his gun. The sound was deafening. "Fuck."

  I took his place as he reloaded his gun. This had been going on for what felt like hours, but was probably more like ten minutes. He'd shoot. I'd reload. I'd shoot. He'd reload. On and on it went. They kept advancing. My hands were numb, my shoulder throbbed, but on we went.

  We had to. You don't watch most of your platoon die and just give up. We'd fight for them, for what they had lost.

  I was out of ammo again and Toby went right back to his spot. I was just about done reloading when my body was thrown across the shallow agricultural trench we were using as a foxhole of sorts. It wasn't doing that good of a job, clearly.

  My ears rang, my eyes burned, a blinding flash of pain careened down my back.

  I’d told him we were going to die today. He didn't believe me.

  A heavy weight landed on me and jerked several times before falling still.

  I pried my eyes open and Toby stared back at me with wide, glassy eyes. Vacant eyes. Eyes I was too familiar with seeing. Another one of my brothers taken. I pushed at him, his body heavy.

  "Toby?" I felt his hot blood seeping through my jacket and shirt. So much blood. Too much blood.

  I needed to
move. If the Germans decided to search the carnage, they'd take me. I didn't have it in me to be a prisoner. I struggled under Toby's weight, but I couldn't move my legs.

  I stopped struggling and stared up at the gray sky. It would snow soon.

  A hand was placed on my shoulder and I jerked back to reality, sloshing the amber liquid in my glass onto my hand. Fucking idiot would know not to touch me if he had the memories of that shit storm. Lucky bastard.

  PTSD was a mother fucking bitch and I couldn't even get help because who the fuck is going to believe that a mid-twenties looking man fought in WWII? Yeah. Exactly. No to the fucking one.

  "Sorry, I shouldn't have-" He realized his errors a little too late.

  "You're right, you shouldn't have." I leaned forward and set my glass on the coffee table before wiping my shaking, wet hand on my jeans. "So, you and Lucifer's daughter... interesting."

  He made a grunting noise in reply and took a drink from his glass. He was still sitting next to me, he must have moved when I zoned out, a mere inch from my leg. I could have strangled his ass. I shifted farther from him.

  I looked over my shoulder at her sleeping on my bed, her body curled around one of my pillows. What would it be like to lay next to her and have her curl around me like that? Probably a really fucking bad idea is what it would be.

  I looked over at my former best friend, my brother in arms. He was still rocking his beard, close shaven and neat. I hadn't known him before the war, but from the pictures he had shown me from before our time deployed together, he hadn't changed at all.

  I, on the other hand, probably looked like a drunken vagrant. I used to be a handsome, strapping young fellow with hair like Cary Grant. The ladies loved me. Come to think of it, the ladies still loved me, and I still loved them. They just couldn't handle that I was completely fucking broken.

  "You aren't worried they’re going to take your wings? Banging a student has to be against some kind of rule."