Walker’s eyebrows almost jet off his head. “You kissed someone?” His mouth hangs open. “You. Myla Lewis.” He sighs. “I see my warning comes too late.”
I cross my arms over my chest. He needs to calm down. “Look, I appreciate your playing older brother and all, but you’re worrying about nothing. If Lincoln were really that into me, he’d find a way to get in touch.” Case closed.
Walker slips his hand into the folds of his robe. “He already has.” He sets a silver envelope onto my palm. My name is written on it in black ink.
My heart kicks in my chest as I tear open the letter and pull out a card. It reads ‘Tomorrow, the Ryder mansion ballroom, 4 PM. Dress casually. Lincoln.’ I grin and shake my hips in a little happy dance.
Walker rolls his eyes. “Never play poker, Myla.”
I fix him with a half-frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’ve never seen you hide an emotion in your life.” He sets his hands back into the folds of his robes and sighs. “Clearly, you already have feelings for Lincoln.”
I tilt my head to one side, considering. The Prince is funny, handsome, smart and kicks serious demon ass. Why shouldn’t I like him? “Maybe I do.” I stick out my tongue at Walker. Nyah.
“Oh, my.” Walker works hard to hide his smile, but I can tell that secretly, he’s totally digging this. “The two of you together are going to be trouble.”
My face breaks out into a wide grin. “I certainly hope so.”
***
Tank stands on the muddy back lawn of High, motioning students closer with his beefy hands. “Everyone, gather around. Class is about to begin.”
I glance at my watch. Once this class is over, I can go to the Ryder mansion for my mystery whatever-it-is with Lincoln. Anxiety burns through my chest.
The Old Timer lurks by our gym teacher’s elbow. His fingers tremble as he twiddles his half-a-moustache. Cissy and Zeke chat nearby.
The Old Timer smoothes his palms over his receding gray hair, guiding the frizzy strands into a tiny pony tail. “We have special guests today.” He gives his moustache-half an extra-long twirl. “Angel warriors. They’ll arrive any minute.”
My mind empties of all thought except pure joy. I jump up and down. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” I’ve never seen angels fight. The entire class turns in my direction, their eyes large and mouths small. Tails stop wagging.
Cissy slides up beside me and whispers in my ear. “You might want to cool it. The other kids are scared of angels. Everyone else is–”
I raise my pointer finger. “I’m not like everyone else and I don’t want to be like everyone else.”
Cissy chuckles. “I noticed. Okay, jump up and down. Knock yourself out.”
The Old Timer starts blabbing about how to act in front of angels. The other students stand google-eyed and twitchy, hanging on his every word.
I elbow Cissy, trying my best to look super calm and cool. “So, any luck with that research project?”
“You mean finding out what Prince Lincoln wants with you at the Ryder mansion today?”
“That’s the one.”
“Nope. I think Zeke’s parents know, but they won’t say a word.” She glances at her watch. “Class ends in forty minutes. You’ll find out soon enough.”
Two angels appear on a nearby patch of muddy lawn. A man and woman, they’re tall and trim with white-blond hair that hangs straight and loose down their backs. They have milky skin, pale blue eyes, and large white wings. Their silver armor is delicately carved with runes of protection. The students gasp as the pair steps up to Tank and the Old Timer. I don’t think anyone breathes, let alone talks.
The woman angel is the first to speak. “Good afternoon, everyone. I am Rhiannon and this is Levi. We’re members of the new personal guard for the Angel Verus.”
Verus got an armed guard? That’s never happened before. There must be a new level of danger in Purgatory. That and Armageddon’s strange behavior today at the Arena? Something is very, very wrong.
Levi sets his hands on his hips. “We’re here to show you how to defend yourselves against demons.”
The Old Timer clears his throat. “Excuse me, but this is the Ghoul Protection League. I’m sure you’ll teach the students how to defend ghouls.” A spasm rolls across his upper lip. “Especially from Papilio demons.” His head jerks. “They assailed my personal possessions. I’ve filed numerous complaint forms with the Oligarchy but they won’t even acknowledge the attack.” He slams his fist into his open palm. “You should show the students how to fight them.” His irises flare scarlet.
I silently whistle. Those Papilio demons really messed with his undead head.
Rhiannon meets the Old Timer’s stare, her irises flaring with blue light. “No. This is defense training, not instructions on revenge.” Righteous power rolls off her in waves.