Noah pivoted toward me. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? You can say no.”

I rolled my eyes. “Are you kidding? I’m going to help Lincoln.”

Noah shrugged. “Lincoln would want me to try to stop you at least once. Now, I can say I did. Good luck. We’ll be right behind you once you secure him.” He clipped a walkie-talkie to my belt and nodded.

Lincoln would want Noah to protect me, because Lincoln was always protecting me. The thought made my heart pinch.

I’m coming.

Shea reached over and squeezed my bicep, and I squeezed her hand back before exiting the car. Michael was waiting for me on the curb, wearing a hooded sweater. His wings were drawn as far behind him as possible so as to appear normal to a passerby, I assumed.

The moment I stepped in beside him, he started to walk.

“We’ll land on the roof. They won’t expect that. When we get inside, I’ll fight you a path to Lincoln. I suspect he’s restrained, so untether him and call for backup.”

I nodded. Didn’t sound too hard.

Michael grabbed my arm. “If at any time you feel your life is in mortal danger, you break a window and fly out of it, understood?”

No way.

“Yes, sir.”

He grinned in a mischievous way that told me he most definitely had read my mind.

Just then, his wings snapped out and he blasted off the concrete into the sky. I stared at his miraculous flight in awe.

‘Get up there, you dingbat!’ Sera shouted.

Oh shit. Right.

My wings snapped out, and then I was right behind him, flapping and pumping my black wings to crawl high above Inferno. It was a ghastly town, full of demons, poverty, and death. I wanted to free the humans being held there. Knowing that was ultimately the Fallen Army’s plan, I couldn’t wait to be a part of that.

The air was freezing, as we were super high. Higher than I normally went in practice drills with Lincoln.

Michael suddenly pivoted in the sky and started to drop down, me right on his tail. Lincoln Grey was not someone I planned on ever living without.

Our boots landed on the rooftop, and Michael wasted no time cutting down the Monkshood demon that stood guard. His sword literally cut through the demon like he was made of butter, leaving a blue fire in its wake. It was both a glorious and disgusting sight to behold.

Next, Michael used his sword to cut the door handle off, again like butter. I was starting to see why the demons would find his sword so valuable.

He peered inside the now-open doorway and lurched backward just in time to miss having his face marred with acid.

God, the Snakeroot demons were populating like crazy! Michael sliced him down too, while I just stood there stupidly, holding Sera, waiting to see if he would need any help.

He didn’t.

We ran down the stairs two by two until we reached a closed door.

Cut off handle, kill demons guarding, rinse and repeat.

We’d gone down three levels when I heard it—Lincoln’s strangled cry one floor below.

“Lincoln!” I shouted, my entire body clenching as my fight or flight mode kicked in. Pivoting, I beelined for the doorway, leaving Michael to fight the Yew demon on the current floor we were on alone. I ran full speed down the stairs to the floor below, just in time to see two big-ass Tainted Academy students dragging a barely conscious Lincoln out the door. His feet, legs, and wings were bound with thick leather-looking straps.

How. Dare. They.

Anger exploded inside of me as I thrust Sera in front of me and released a savage battle cry. She pulsed a white light so bright that the men holding Lincoln were forced to drop him and cover their eyes. I lunged forward, slicing into the brute nearest me and gouging his side, letting my knife sink into his rib cage.

You kidnap my boyfriend, I cut you.

He fell to the ground with a groan, and then I was working on the next guy. He was still momentarily blinded, which was nice, but he also looked like a Dark Mage. Slashing out, I carved an X into his outstretched arm.

While he was distracted, I pulled out my walkie-talkie. “I’ve got Lincoln. Send backup.”

I’d just replaced the walkie when I saw an angry reddish magical ball hurtling toward my face. Arching my back so it wouldn’t collide with me, I dodged it, but also fell to the ground in the process.

That’s when I saw Michael casually watching my little fight from the stairs. How long had he been standing there?

“Why don’t you get Lincoln out? I’ll finish up here.” He winked.

Whoa. His wink was powerful, doing things to my insides. A sexy angel wink was like two Lincoln winks.

I simply nodded from my place on the ground, and then Michael was leaping over me to take on the Tainted Academy asshole.

“Brielle,” Lincoln croaked.

I shot up into a standing position and started to cut off his wing bindings first, then sliced his ankle restraints, and finally the ones around his hands. All within a minute, thanks to Sera’s help.

Grabbing Lincoln’s right arm, I pulled it over my head so he could lean on me, and we started to walk down the steps to the bottom floor.

“I can’t believe Noah let you come,” Lincoln growled in anger.

“It’s great to see you too.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m glad you’re alive,” I added curtly. He was limping; they’d clearly injured him.

He sighed and then stopped, turning to face me in the darkened stairwell. “Thanks for coming, I’m happy to see you,” he amended.

That was better.

I heard footsteps coming up the stairs and held Sera before me, ready to blind whoever it was, but when Noah’s head peeked over the railing, I relaxed.

“Upstairs.” I pointed to where Michael was.

Noah took the stairs two at a time, only stopping to pat his best friend’s shoulder for a moment. When we finally made it outside and were walking to a worried-looking Shea, who was keeping the car warm, I asked Lincoln what was on my mind.

“What did Tainted Academy want?”

Lincoln growled. “Maybe just a personal vendetta for coming on campus that day, but the guy knew everything about me, so I think it goes deeper.”

Bastards.

From now on, I was keeping an eye on Lincoln, just as he did for me. It looked like I wasn’t the only one in danger.

Chapter Fifteen

Two weeks after Lincoln’s kidnapping, he had fully healed and was barking orders as usual.

“The big fight is next weekend!” Lincoln told Shea and me at our weekly training. “So I want to change it up a bit. Do something more realistic,” he declared.

I raised one eyebrow at Shea. We’d been training like machines every spare chance we had; I wasn’t sure ‘changing it up’ would teach us anything new.

Just then, the double doors opened, Tiffany and one of her sheep walked in—Tiffany #2.

“You’re early. I haven’t told them yet,” Lincoln groaned to the blonde Light Mage.

“Um, what?” I pinned my boyfriend with a death glare. If he thought I was fighting Tiffany, he was so sorely mistaken. I would kill her and then go to jail, and it would be bad.

“No, no.” Shea raised her hands. “Bad idea. We’ll all kill each other.”

Lincoln motioned for the Tiffanys to come closer. “I know an active feud exists between you guys, so it’s the best way to test your fighting ability. The hits will be real. You’ll have a week to heal before the real fight, and Mr. Claymore has made a spelled drink that will keep you from doing any serious damage—no severed limbs or deaths. I tried it out myself last night on Noah.”

Noah waved from the back of the room, and when Shea looked at him, he winked.

“And why would I help Archie train for her little death match?” Tiffany droned, crossing her arms.

Lincoln grinned like he had an animal caught in a trap. “Because you’ve dreamed about punching her in the face since the day she got here. Now’s your only chance.”

She smirked. “True. All right, I’m in.”

I raised my hand and Lincoln called on me.

“Just one question. Will Mr. Claymore’s spell keep me from ripping out her hair?” I pulled Sera and dropped into my fighting stance.

Shea snorted, trying to conceal a laugh, but Tiffany squared off with me, fire gleaming in her eyes.

Oh yeah. I’d dreamed of this day for almost two years now. Shit was going to go down.

“Whoa, whoa. Let’s talk rules,” Lincoln pleaded.

“Screw the rules. Give us the drink,” Tiffany spat.

Lincoln looked to me and I nodded. I was going to chug that drink and then try to rip off her head.

“Damn, I’m totally videotaping this,” Noah chuckled from the corner of the training room.

I pointed Sera at him and she shot a small pulse of light out, making him shriek and drop his phone.

“No way,” I roared.

He groaned and threw his hands up. “Okay, okay.”

Lincoln handed me a shot glass brimming with a deep purple fluid. Without a word, I tipped it back and chugged.

Oh good Lord, that was nasty. Like black licorice and gritty sand.

Tiffany did the same, then Shea and Tiffany #2.

“All right, in the—”

I cut Lincoln off with a battle cry.

Bitch was going down.

I slashed my dagger out wildly, catching Tiffany’s arm and drawing blood.

“That was for Luke,” I told her.

She looked down at her bleeding arm in shock, but I wasted no time attacking again. This was going to be epic.

My leg came up and I socked her in the chest with my boot, knocking her backward. Her blonde ponytail dramatically bobbed as she went down. “That was for calling me Archie!” I exclaimed.

Shea was already in her own fight with Tiffany’s clone, so I kept my focus solely on the queen bitch herself.

She was two seconds from getting her hair ripped out. As I dropped to my knees to straddle the evil Light Mage, her hands came up and a purple ball of fire slammed into my chest, hurling me into the air and then dropping me. I came down hard, jamming my right ankle and flopping ungracefully to my side.

Still, I grinned. “Now there’s the Bitchany I know.”

Lincoln and Noah were watching with what looked like a mixture of horror and fascination as my wings popped out and I tore across the room. Tiffany crouched, ready for me, but even with her sword up, she wasn’t ready for this. Sera shot out with a blinding white light, and Tiffany dropped her sword to cover her eyes. Then I slammed into her with the force of a bullet, grabbing her by the throat and dragging her across the floor until she crashed into the far wall. I held her there by the throat, knowing I had her. Lincoln would call it off, and I would be the victor.

Suddenly, she latched onto my steel arms cuffs with both hands and they started to heat up, like really hot, really fast.

“Lincoln’s parents and my parents always wanted us to end up together. Once he’s done slumming it, he’ll settle down with a proper girl like me. You’re just the interim chick,” she spat.