Fallen Academy: Year Two (Fallen Academy #2)(9)

We finally reached the doors where the other kids were waiting to be let in. I knew the nerves Mikey must be feeling—hell, I’d felt them just the year before.

Leaning over, I gave my brother a tight hug. “Whatever it is will be fine. I love you,” I told him.

He nodded curtly and waved to Lincoln and Shea before walking awkwardly to stand at the end of the line.

Lincoln was wearing his Fallen Army uniform. He was going to work the stage again, like he had with Raphael when I’d gone through my Awakening. It was reassuring to know that if anything went wrong, he’d be there to help my brother.

After making our way inside, we handed the attendant our tickets.

One of her eyebrows raised. “Front row. Fancy, fancy.” She ripped the ticket, giving us the other half.

Front row! I hadn’t even looked. Lincoln had given them to us. I glanced over at my boyfriend and he winked.

Ah, wink number five. Be still my heart.

“I’ll see you after. Don’t worry.” He kissed me chastely.

As he walked away, Shea linked her arm with mine and dragged me toward the interior hall.

“Front row. Damn, girl, Lincoln loves you.” She batted her eyelashes.

I smiled. “He does.”

Front row was for Fallen Army officials, and rich families of kids who were going through the Awakening, not Lucifer’s stepdaughter with the black wings.

I did a quick check to make sure my boots didn’t have bloodstains on them. Maybe I should have dressed nicer.

“Sucks that your mom can’t sit with us,” Shea commented.

My heart pinched as a pang of sadness washed through me. I craned my neck to try and find her. There, in the nosebleed section with the other demon bound slaves she sat, looking tired as hell. I’d made an executive decision to not tell her about the whole fight thing, not yet.

She caught me looking and gave me a little wave. I waved back with a small smile.

“Please be seated, and we will bring out the students.” Raphael’s voice boomed from the stage.

Shea and I fast-walked to the front row and took our seats between some really important-looking people. One was an older dude wearing a Fallen Army uniform with tons of medals on it, and the other was a lady with her hair so tight in a bun, it made her eyes pull up at the sides.

Shea and I tried to contain our giggles.

Oh my God, am I going to actually get to experience the after-party? The chocolate fountain and bliss donuts and all of the other things I never got to at my ceremony?

I looked up at the stage and tried to suppress my anger at seeing Grim and another demon there. His beady little eyes roamed over me, and then with a scowl, he turned away.

I should have killed him when I had the chance.

After a moment of sitting in the quiet, I heard the back doors open and everyone began to file in. Mikey looked super handsome in the black suit he wore. I gave him a thumbs-up and he rolled his eyes, red-faced and clearly embarrassed.

Whatever. I was a cool older sister.

Raphael gave his remorseful speech about the fallen war and infecting the humans with powers, and then he started to call the first name. Atwater would be one of the first.

Oh God, I was so nervous.

What if he was a Centaur? I’d never give him a hug without getting on a ladder first.

Shea must have known I was stressing, because she reached out and grasped my hand.

There was something so comforting about having a best friend. Not just a bestie for a few years and then you grew apart. A. Best. Friend. Shea was stuck to me like glue, for life. No matter what, she was my person, and I was hers. Knowing we had each other, it took the weight off my shoulders in that moment. Whatever Mikey was, we would deal with it together.

“Melanie Anderson. Free soul,” Raphael boomed, and I released the breath I’d been holding.

Being first sucked.

A waif-thin, timid-looking girl with mousy brown hair shuffled to the stage, her chin down. When she stood before Raphael, he beamed at her and held his hands over her head. A fine sprinkling of gold dust fell into her skin and we all froze. Even though she wasn’t my family, I felt myself go rigid with anticipation. It was like watching a suspenseful movie.

Suddenly she began to cry, staring at her hands.

“No!” she shouted.

Raphael’s upper lip curled, and Lincoln, who stood behind him, discretely covered his nose.

“Melanie Anderson. Gristle.”

Oh shit.

I wasn’t a pro lip reader, but I thought Raphael muttered, “I’m sorry,” before she ran offstage crying.

Craning my neck back, I could see that my brother was as white as a sheet.

“Michael Atwater. Free soul,” Raphael said next.

I hadn’t expected the pang of pride that would swell in my chest when Raphael said “free soul” after my brother’s name, but there it was. My mother and I had made some mistakes, but Mikey was a clean slate.

Shea squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back.

Damn, going after a Gristle reveal was a hard act to follow.

“You got this, Mikey!” Shea called out like a loud New Yorker.

I flinched as the snooty people next to us scowled down their noses at us, but it had worked. Mikey smiled shyly, and the color came back in his cheeks.

Okay. Breathe. Just breathe. God, please don’t let him have black wings, or be a Centaur.