The Angel of Olden Academy ✓

chapter five

The next morning, Adam came into the alcove with a black eye.

I stared at it, my throat closing up, as he set down my breakfast. Then I saw the bruise peeking out from beneath his shirt, and the clean cut across his wrist (which I knew, knew, was from Ethan's dagger).

"Good morning." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "How are your symptoms?"

I could hardly speak. When I did, my voice was hoarse. "Adam."

"I hear that they're close to a cure. Something to do with the spindle weed."

"Adam." I was trembling inside. Was I trembling outside, too? Could he hear it in my voice? "Look at me."

He did. His eyes were tired and rimmed with red. And sad. I'd never seen his eyes so sad.

I heard voices approaching, and then the curtain was pushed aside and my friends sauntered through. Ethan shoved past Adam, who shrank back against the wall.

"Got him good, didn't we?" Ethan asked. "Tried to bleed him out, you know, but someone came along and we had to run." He saw the look on my face and paused. "What's wrong with you?"

I pushed myself up. My limbs felt like stones. "I'll kill both of you."

Adam was at my side in an instant, pushing me back down, trying to quiet me.

"I wouldn't have let him die," Sander said, looking afraid. He came closer, his eyes searching mine. "I mean it, Ehren. He was just so—when we came in here the other day, he was so angry. And I was afraid that he was threatening you. Or hurting you. Or not doing enough to help you—"

Ethan yanked Adam towards him by his hair, his eyes on me. "Gotten into your head, has he?" He pulled Adam back against his chest, flipping out his dagger and pressing it to Adam's throat. "That's alright, Ehr. We'll just get him back out."

"Let him go," I growled, smoke spilling from my mouth.

Ethan snapped out his claws; they dug into Adam's scalp, drawing blood. Adam whimpered, trying to pull Ethan's dagger from his throat.

"Mate, hold on." Sander was moving towards Ethan. "It's way too public for this, yeah? You wanna get us both expelled?"

Ethan scowled, violet eyes enraged. I suddenly understood what I had to do, and, without thinking, I did it:

I laughed.

Sander paused. Glanced at Ethan. "Is he laughing at us?"

"Who else?" I wheezed, dropping back in the bed. "You're the only fools here getting all worked up over a fucking angel." I wiped at my eyes. "You should hear yourselves. You really need to learn how to take a joke."

Sander was to first to give; he shot me an embarrassed smile and sagged a bit.

Ethan, however, didn't take his dagger from Adam's throat. His gaze was calculating. "You won't mind if I cut him up a bit, then."

"'Course not," I said, and smiled as he wrapped a hand around Adam's mouth and sunk the tip of the dagger into the skin above his collar bone. Adam squirmed with pain—I felt it like it was my own. "Man. You guys are gullible."

Ethan shoved Adam to the ground, irritated. "I forgot how good you are at lying."

I grinned. "Well, I had plenty of time to think it up. Hey—you know it means a lot that you were willing to kill him for me, right? I mean, don't, or you'll seriously be expelled, but—it's the thought that counts."

Sander looked relieved.

Ethan looked disappointed.

"Now go," I laughed. "I need some fucking rest."

Ethan glanced down at Adam, spat on his face, and left. Sander followed with a promise to come back soon.

I was out of bed the second they were gone, wiping at Ethan's spit with my sleeve. Adam's eyes blinked open, finding mine, confused.

"You're bleeding," I said, touching the skin near the claw marks on his forehead and the cut below his neck. He'd brought a fresh rag with the breakfast—he always did, along with water and soap, so I could wash my face and hands—and I grabbed it, dunking it in the water and wringing it out.

"What are you doing?" he breathed.

I took hold of his head and dabbed carefully at the blood. None of the cuts were deep. "Shit," I muttered, setting down the cloth. "What next? Disinfectant? Do you have bandages?"

"I don't need bandages," he murmured, and looked up at my eyes. Something in him shifted when he saw my panic, and his lips parted. "Wait. You were lying, weren't you?" He was shocked. "To them. Not to me, to ... them."

"Yes." I pulled away, frowning. "You believed me?" I could tell from his face that he had. "Fuck, Adam, no. I made it all up. I didn't know what else to do."

"You were very convincing." He frowned. "I don't know if I should believe anything you say."

I shook my head. I didn't know if he should, either.

But his hand found mine, his fingers gently running across my palm. "It was real, though. Your fear."

I looked away. "I'm not afraid of them."

"Not then. Before. When you saw ... " He didn't have to finish. I lifted a trembling hand to the purpled skin of his left eye. "You care about me, don't you?"

I recoiled, my heart pounding. "No."

He smiled, because I did and he knew it. "Let's get you back into bed."

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