Free Prophecy Girl (Angel Academy) by Cecily White

through my palm into his skin as the Crossworld energy coursed between us. His face took on a look of drowsy peace. I knew unauthorized healing was prohibited in the student handbook, but I figured Smalley would understand. I’d done far worse for less noble reasons, right? And it wasn’t exactly a sin. I waited until his breath settled into the soft rhythm of sleep then, quietly as I’d come, I eased out of the infirmary and returned to assembly.
    …
    Which may have been a mistake.
    As soon as I set foot in the room, Jack started glowering at me from the now-splintered dais. Like, serious evil-eye. I barely had time to obsess about it before Lisa hit me with a full-body tackle-hug so energetic you’d think we’d just survived Armageddon.
    “Oh, thank heavens you’re okay!”
    “Oof! Lis! Oxygen!”
    “Sorry.” She released me. “Wow, you look awful.”
    I scowled at her. “Thanks.”
    Lisa sat beside Katie and me, clutching my hand, while Smalley gave some lame speech about what a brilliant job our new examiner had done with the “simulated emergency situation.” What crock! That nightmare was no more a planned exercise than I am an international supermodel. Don’t get me wrong, I understood why she had to spin it. And why they believed her.
    Our families were promised St. Michael’s was safe; the wards around the school’s perimeter kept the villains out and the heroes in, no exceptions. That was one of the main reasons why, in spite of the constant demon threat, Guardian parents still let their kids come here. If they admitted for even one second that someone inside the wards had summoned a swarm of homicidal subterraneans, the world as they knew it might just disintegrate. They needed to believe her.
    By the time Smalley wrapped up, the vibe for most folks had returned to a tense little corner of normal. For me, however, normal was at least three buses and a cab ride away. My skin still had a faint glow to it, and, every time I caught Jack’s eye, electric shivers shot through my nerves.
    “Quit that.” Lisa jabbed an elbow at my ribs.
    “Quit what?”
    “Quit looking at him like that,” she warned in a hushed tone. “I’m not kidding, Amelie. He’s dangerous. He boils kittens in ritual sacrifice.”
    Katie wrinkled her nose. “He does not, Lisa.”
    “You don’t know that. Look what he did to this place!”
    “He didn’t do this,” I said. “You know as well as I do a rift that big was no exercise. And the perimeter wards are still active. That means it had to be an inside job.”
    “Oh, here we go.” Lisa rolled her eyes in exasperation.
    “Has anybody checked Creepy Daniel’s bloodline lately? What about Veronica Manning? Anyone who spends fifty grand on a Mardi Gras dress has to be the spawn of Satan, right?”
    Lisa’s smile faded as she laced her arms across her chest. “You sound really paranoid, you know that?”
    “Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they’re not after you.” We both turned to where Katie stood, absently stacking her books in a neat pile organized by color, size, and topic of study. “Sorry,” she said, when she noticed us staring. “Habit.”
    Around us, everyone stood to pack their things. It would have resembled a normal dismissal but for the charred walls, splintered furniture, and light fixtures dangling like bones. While I didn’t believe for a second Jack had orchestrated this catastrophe, I had to admit Lisa wasn’t completely off-base. There was something dark about the guy. Even when we’d had our special moment before, I could feel it lurking beneath the surface. He lacked that certain “bunnies and rainbows” vibe I’d always imagined my boyfriend would have. Not that I like bunnies. Or rainbows. Demon dismemberment, on the other hand…
    “I thought he seemed nice. I liked his glasses and he has a nice smile.” Katie blew her limp blond bangs out of her eyes.
    “Katiebear, grow up. Just because a guy wears glasses and