“No,” Noah offered immediately.
Thankfully everyone was in class since it was a Monday, so the parking lot was void of any students that might overhear.
Chloe put a hand on her hip. “What’s your story for wanting to go over there?”
“Tired of Demon City down here, looking to find some work up there,” he offered lamely.
Chloe tipped her head back with a cackle, and I realized she was standing in the sun. Like full sun on her skin. She must’ve gotten a Mage to do that spell on her, the one that allowed Nightbloods to be out in the light. I’d missed so much, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever catch up with it all.
“You’ll be killed on sight! Three Dark Mages going to the deadliest city in the country to find work? Smells like bullshit to me. You’ll be found out.”
Noah groaned. “What did you have in mind?”
Chloe gave a sly grin. “My dad’s been to San Francisco once. He’s sending me on a mission to check out some properties. He’s interested in expanding the Third Eye Moon, to have a sister property up there. It’s a good business decision.”
I had no idea if that was a true story or not, but it sounded great. Especially since Chloe’s dad was like the leader of the Nightblood mafia, and had lots of dark connections.
Noah sighed, resigned. “And what’s your story?” he asked Luke.
Luke flipped him off. “I’m going. Get over it.”
I chuckled and stepped forward to give them both hugs. “I love you guys. You don’t need to do this.”
Chloe nodded. “Yes we do. My dad said the only way to cover a Celestial’s ability is to make them look like Mages. Too many Mages is a red flag to the demons underground. They despise Celestials. If you travel with a Nightblood and a Beast Shifter, it’ll look more realistic that we’re all tainted academy kids.”
“Besides, Lincoln’s family. We were going to go after him eventually, anyway,” Luke added.
Noah and Shea nodded. “It’s true. We just didn’t have a plan before, but now we do.”
“Group hug!” I squealed, and opened my arms.
Being down in Hell, alone, scared, and fighting for my life each day had changed me. I was a different person now. I felt more aware of myself and who I was, and I appreciated everything so much more. Especially the people in my life.
After making Chloe and Luke run to Raphael’s office and drink the special protection potion, we packed ourselves into the car and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that we were bringing Lincoln home alive. I would accept nothing less.
Chapter Twenty-One
The drive to San Jose was long, and we spent it in relative silence. I tried not to think about how serious the trip was. Lincoln’s life was at stake, and so were ours.
But as I looked around the car, Chloe’s head resting on Luke’s shoulder beside me, Shea holding hands with Noah up front, I realized I was so lucky to have found these people. It wasn’t too long ago that I was a young eighteen-year-old from Demon City, with black wings, and a chip on my shoulder.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, we pulled up to the memorial park and funeral home Emberly had told us about, and parked in the driveway.
Noah turned off the car and rolled his neck. “Is Emberly sure this is the place?” he asked, peering at the building. All the lights were off, except one over the doorway. It was just after dinner, so we weren’t sure if maybe we should sleep in the car and come back in the morning, or try the door now.
I nodded. “She said the entrance to the tunnel is in the basement.”
Noah gave a curt nod, cracking his knuckles before he reached in his bag, pulling out a huge wad of cash. He handed it to Chloe. “Since the cover is that you’re working for your father, you should be the one paying our way through.”
Chloe nodded nervously and took the bundle, slipping it into her satchel.
I took in a deep breath and looked at Noah. “No matter what, we can’t let our wings out.”
He agreed, bobbing his head up and down. “No healing, or Celestial magic in public either.”
Okay. We can do this.
Nerves clawed at my gut as we slipped out of the car, pulling our backpacks on. In mine, I had about four days’ worth of fresh clothes and some snacks, but nothing else that would lead to my true identity or Fallen Academy.
As we walked up to the darkened doorway entrance, my nerves ramped up to an even higher level. Chloe stepped forward and banged on the door loudly, while Shea and Luke stood just behind her. Noah and I shrank back into the shadows, hoping not to be looked at too closely. Noah had this “glowy angelness” about him, hard to mistake. How Emberly made it across here, I’d never know. Maybe if you had enough money it didn’t matter, or maybe she really could control minds. A terrifying thought.
The door was yanked open, and standing before us was a drunken Mugwort demon. His warty, repulsive face and yellowing horns gave me the creeps.
“Closed!” he shouted, and moved to slam the door.
Chloe shoved her booted foot into the doorway, stopping him before he could close the door, and then thrust a wad of cash through the open slot.
“I say you’re open,” she declared.
The door opened once more, and the Mugwort’s eyes fell to the wad of cash in her hand. He peered behind her, staring at us, and then jerked his chin, gesturing that we come inside.
Once we were in the entryway to the funeral parlor, he walked over to a small sign-in table, grabbing a half-empty bottle of whisky.
“What do you want?” he grumbled, taking a long swig.
The parlor stank of death, demons, and Necromancer magic. I imagined they were reanimating the dead, which was illegal unless you lived inside Demon City. Right now we were sort of in a gray area, on the outskirts of Angel City, but with no real enforcing rules.
Chloe held her chin high. “We need to get into San Francisco, and we heard you have an entrance to the tunnels here.”
He took another long swig, peering at Chloe over his liquor bottle before his gaze jumped to each of us in turn. “Y’all demon gifted?” he growled.
Chloe nodded. “Obviously.”
He chuckled. “Then why not drive on through the guard gate?”
Shit. Dumb drunk was smart.
Chloe didn’t skip a beat. “Because my dad owns a Nightblood club in LA and wants to branch out into San Francisco, but he doesn’t want the competition knowing his plans.”
The Mugwort took another swig, belching afterward. “Keno runs all the clubs in San Francisco. No way he’d let your dad start his own thing.”
Chloe nodded as if she knew who the hell Keno was. “Exactly. So, you want this money or not?” She flashed the wad of cash again.
He sighed. “All right, but you gotta prove you ain’t got any Celestials with you. Those dang angel half-breeds been sneaking in the city, and making it bad for business.”
My heart hammered in my chest, and I saw Noah’s chest hitch.
Is he talking about Lincoln? Has he been discovered?
Chloe zipped across to the Mugwort like a flash of lightning and then zipped back to where we were standing, holding his liquor bottle.
He smirked and walked over, yanking it from her hands. “Okay, Nightblood. What about you?” He looked to Luke.
Taking in a deep breath, Luke released a terrifying bear roar that shook the painting on the wall closest to him. The Mugwort demon actually seemed cowed for a moment.
“And you?” The demon looked at Shea.
She reached out and grasped Noah’s hand. “We’re all Dark Mages,” she stated, a ball of glowing blackish green fire dancing on the palm of her free hand. Noah repressed a gasp, holding up his right hand, which also contained a green glowing ball of fire.
The Mugwort nodded once, but when he looked to me, I froze. Because Shea was holding Noah’s hand, she was able to force him to take on some of her magic, but I was three feet from them, standing in my own corner of the room.
As if sensing the danger, my wings tingled across my back, threatening to break free.
I peeled my sleeve back, and revealed my death mark. “Dark Mage,” I declared.
He was looking at my red hair very closely. “You gotta prove it. If I let angel blessed in, my head gets cut off as well as yours.”
My heart flickered wildly in my chest. My eyes met Shea’s, and I could see the panic there. Noah looked like he was ready to lunge at the Mugwort demon and knock him out, but in that moment, Raphael’s words came back to me. I was one of a kind, exhibiting both light and dark magic, unlike any other.
Maybe it wasn’t about being all light—maybe it was about balance.
I held my hand up, like Shea had, and called forth that sickly dark magic that was still inside of me, always just below the surface. It was less now that I didn’t feed it with rage and resentment, but let’s be honest. It was there.
The black inky energy burst from my palm, and I intended to have it dance upward like fire, like Shea had. Instead it leapt out, and wrapped around the Mugwort demon’s wrist, burning it.
“Ow!” he yelped, clawing at the black bracelet.
Shit!
I snapped my fingers and it fell away, dropping to the floor and disintegrating.
“What’d you do that for!” he yelled, eyes red.
I blanched. “I’m still learning to control my power. That’s why I was just trying to show you my tattoo.”
He huffed, rubbing at his red wrist. “Stupid kids.” Then he looked at Chloe, holding out his hand. “It’s a grand. Each.”
Damn.
Chloe nodded, counting out the money, and we were led to a back room.
Each one of my friends met my gaze, and all I kept thinking was damn, that was close.
We passed a reception room full of caskets, then ventured into a living room where the TV was on, and another Mugwort demon was watching a show—his own bottle of liquor between his legs.
“Pause it! I’m taking them to the tunnels, and I don’t wanna miss this part,” our guide snapped at his friend, who fiddled with the remote and stopped the show, grumbling cuss words under his breath.
Luke’s hand slipped in mine and squeezed. My heart lifted a little, knowing we were in this together.
When we reached a set of stairs that led to a dark basement, I suddenly wondered if this was a good idea. What if there were no tunnels? What if he was leading us to our deaths to rob us of the rest of our money?
The Mugwort held his hands out for Noah to start walking down the steps, but the Celestial must’ve been thinking the same as me because he shook his head. “You first.”
The demon rolled his eyes, stumbling down the steps two at a time, and cursing us “pansy-ass kids” under his breath.
When I stepped into the dark staircase, a dank and musty smell hit my nose.
“Come on, come on, I’m missing my show.” he called out to us.
We scurried to meet him at the back of the basement, near some embalming tables, and a dark wooden door. With a yank, he pried it open. From my place at the back of the group, I could see that it led to another set of stairs, much more crudely carved than the last set.