Prophecy Girl (Angel Academy) (30 page)

Jack groaned. “Show some respect. That
is
your Immortal master you’re talking about.”

Ah, yes.
Master Luc
. Like I wouldn’t think of
Star Wars
every time I uttered that one.

There was something careful about the way Jack trailed his fingers through my hair, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t figure out how. I snuggled in deeper and stared at the endless night sky. I’d seen it a thousand times before, but never like this. Stars and planets filled the heavens, some glittering like brilliant sparks of scattered gunpowder, some duller—oranges and reds. I could have stared at it for hours and not gotten bored.

“Amelie, I have to ask you a question. It’s important, so I want you to think carefully before you answer.” His fingers moved nervously over the bare skin at my neck. “Are you sure about all this? About me?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

He frowned. “No, I need you to think first. I mean, you have a lot to lose now and I have practically nothing to offer. Crappy car, low-paying job, studio apartment. That’s all. Your dad hates me. And if people at school find out we’re together, there’ll be no end of crap from the student body.”

“I can handle crap from the student body.”

“Not to mention the Immortal community,” he continued. “Do you understand that Luc is the only male descendant of the current sovereign? Which means, as far as his people are concerned, you’re not just his fledgling. You’re royalty.”

He let that carrot dangle as visions of corsets, uncomfortable shoes, and guillotines filled my mind. “That sounds like a huge pain in the ass.”

Jack nodded absently. “People are being nice about this now, but once they have time to think about it…I mean, how long do you expect Luc to tolerate his Immortal charge playing house with his angelblood best friend?”

“Describe ‘playing house.’”

“Amelie, this is serious,” Jack grumbled. “If the Immortals catch even one whiff we’re involved they could question your loyalty. They could call for your death.”

While he talked, I’d rolled over so my belly pressed against his, my face nuzzled his neck, the threads of our bond knitting together like a luminescent sweater-vest. Man, he felt good.

“The smart thing would be to pledge fealty to Luc and defect from the Guardians. You’ll be eighteen in a few months. Aunt Arianna’s already started the media circus. Luc’s not bad once you get to know him. And you’d have eternity to acquaint yourselves. He’ll give you everything you want, Ami.” Jack’s eyes filled with sadness as he dropped his gaze to the ground. “You’d be safe with him.”

“I would, huh?”

“Completely.”

I pretended to consider. “And I could have anything? Cars? Beach house? Apartment in Paris?”

“Anything,” he promised. “For the rest of your life.”

The rest of my life
.

Did he have any idea what a long, dull road that would be without him? With a sigh, I pulled my lips off his neck, fingers lightly stroking the purple hickey I’d just made. “You’re right.”

“At least think about it before—” He froze. “What did you say?”

“I said, you’re right. It’s the obvious choice, isn’t it?”

The fire had gone out in the hearth; only moonlight and the flickering glow of our bond remained. I dropped a gentle kiss on his lips. “You should get an El Camino, no question.”

Relief flowed through his exhale and he smiled. “You’re twisted, you know that?”

“I never denied it.”

“We’ll have to pretend we’re not together,” he warned. “We’ll have to hide the bond until we can get away—find an Elder to finish the ceremony. And they’ll come after us. It won’t be easy.”

“Nothing worth having is.”

I sealed my body against his and let the warmth seep into me. Raised lines of skin pressed through his thin cotton shirt—shiny, dimpled scars where Thibault had cut him. My heart ached at the memory.

“So, you’re sure about this?” Jack asked. “Because if you say yes, then we have to do it right. There can’t be any mistakes.” The light was back in his eyes, an edge of anticipation at the corners. “No more sneaking off together. No more breaking protocol—”

“Ah, protocol, my old nemesis.”

“I’m serious. Starting tomorrow, you and I are on hold. Henry talked to Akira, and she’s willing to keep quiet about the bond. As far as anyone at school knows, you’re with the Immortals and we’re just acquaintances.”

I sighed.
Acquaintances
. Possibly the ugliest word in existence. “This is going to blow major chunks.”

“It’s only a few months.”

“That’s supposed to make me hate it less?” With a long sigh, I snuggled deeper into his arms. “Well, we have until sunrise together, right? I mean, as long as it’s dark, we’re in the clear?”

He arched an eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”

Between us, the bond simmered in tiny spasms of light. Only this time, when I pulled my lips away, the glow didn’t fade.

“Jack,” I said, “how do you feel about Antarctica?”

Acknowledgments

“Once upon a time, in a town far muggier than this one…”

That was how the Angel Academy trilogy started a handful of years ago. Which was appropriate at the time, since I didn’t plan to write a book, let alone a trilogy. Really, I was just making stuff up to get my sweet, gorgeous daughter to go to sleep already.

And she did. But not before listening carefully, commenting on the plot, asking questions about the characters, giving suggestions on how various conflicts should resolve and, after an hour of procrastination on the sleep issue, finally noting, “Mommy, you should really write this down.”

So that’s what I did.

Hence, I owe the first debt of gratitude to my kiddos: Avery, for challenging me to be better than I thought I could, and Evan, for showing me there’s nothing in the world that makes a soul shimmer like unconditional love. You two turkeys are my North Star—my heart—and I will love you forever, around the universe and back again.

That said, I have to admit this book would still be sitting at the bottom of a virtual scrap pile without a few key people. Leigh Michaels, without you, I never would have believed I could be a writer. You’re an inspiration and a guidepost. C.J. Redwine, if you hadn’t harassed me to query, I’d still be sitting at my computer hopelessly web-stalking agents but not sending anything out. You are, in a word, awesome! Barb, Diana, and Kaye—my Tuesday Writers—you took my excess adverbs and gave me love and skills in return. I can’t thank you enough. Stephanie and Noelle—my saviors—you guys keep me sane. Seriously! Don’t ever stop! Michele and Lynda Gail, thank you both for making me look organized (yes, it could be much,
much
worse). And Jen, Sam, Sara, Emery, Angie, Tara, Sharon, and my sweet DoomsDaisies, thanks for keeping me connected. To everyone at Ozarks Romance Authors, MORWA, and Sleuths Ink, y’all are the most amazing, nurturing, and talented group of writers I’ve ever met. When I sit amongst you, I am humbled.

The core of my inspiration, as always, comes from my family: Roger and Allison, you drove me crazy throughout childhood. Thank you, because without y’all, I might have been really bored. (P.S. Robert and Jonathan, try not to kill each other and be nice to your mother.) Carolyn and Russell Cornelius, y’all are not only the bomb-diggity of parents, you are also ridiculously cool people. I’ll be forever in awe of your endurance and compassion, no matter what life throws at you. (And it’s thrown a lot!) So Mom, thanks for keeping my heart linked to New Orleans, and for sending me newspaper clippings and magazine articles over the years so I never forget where I’m from. And Dad, thanks for showing me what real heroes are made of. I love you madly. Snaps also go to my high school alma mater, Louise S. McGehee, where I learned how to question everything, laugh at adversity, and kill demons while wearing a school uniform.
Noblesse Oblige
, y’all!

Predictably, there are a whole lot of folks who worked their fingers to the bone (um, not literally…I hope) to make this book come alive. My fabulous agenting duo, Pam Van Hylckama Vlieg and Laurie McLean—there are no words for how grateful I am to you. Y’all believed in me and you made me believe in myself. (And Pam, for putting up with my mood swings, I owe you more chocolate than Belgium produces in a year.) Likewise, I must thank the awesomtastic, fabuloriffic people at Entangled Publishing. Heather, I don’t care what my mother says, I’m convinced we’re sisters. Jaime, you simply rock! And Liz… Holy crud, Liz! I think you might be the single most capable, dynamic, visionary, talented, beautiful, inspiring person I’ve ever met. I will never stop having a girl-crush on you. Thanks for the edits, the late night phone therapy, the awesome cover design, and for the million-bazillion other things you’ve done to make this project and this publishing house a success.

Everyone involved in this deserves an all-expenses paid trip to the Bahamas. Not that I’m in a position to offer such a thing…but just so
you
know,
I
know you deserve it!

Buckets of love and gratitude!

- Cecily White

About the Author

Cecily White, Psy.D. is a part-time university professor and full-time mom who loves messing with her characters’ lives. She can swear in Klingon, take down alien aggressors using only her mind (or chopsticks), and kill spiders without getting schmutz on her shirt. You can visit her at
www.cecilywhite.com
.