Free No Angel by Helen Keeble Page B

she said, startled. “They’re just hovering behind you. Not really attached.”
    “But I can feel them in my shoulders.” I squawked as she tugged experimentally on my feathers. “Believe me, they don’t come off! Quit it, Krystal!”
    “Sorry.” Krystal reappeared, frowning. “How small do they fold up? Maybe we can hide them.”
    “Under what, a tent?” Nevertheless, I tentatively flexed . . . something. The wings stirred. Trying to control them consciously was like wrestling with a couple of enormous and recalcitrant umbrellas. In a closet. In the dark. It was ridiculous, considering that I’d managed to fly with the things. I closed my eyes, letting instinct take over. My wings settled themselves on my back with a strange little twist .
    Faith’s gasp made me open my eyes again. “They vanished!” she exclaimed. “Into thin air!”
    “Huh?” I waved my arm behind myself, encountering nothing. But I could still feel them, tucked up behind my shoulders, feathers ruffling in a warm wind. I opened them experimentally, and they popped into visibility again. “They’re still here. Just . . . somewhere else.”
    “Well, that’s one problem solved,” Krystal said as I folded them up again. “At least we won’t have to try to explain to the teachers why you’re wearing a cloak.”
    “Just a hat,” said Faith. “The halo’s still there.”
    I swore. “And the teachers won’t let me get away with that. I tried.”
    Krystal tapped her finger against her lips. “You started glowing last night, but you weren’t today. I saw you during your detention. How did you turn it off?”
    “I didn’t do it deliberately. It just went away on its own when I—uh.”
    “After you what?” Krystal demanded when I didn’t continue. “This is important, Raf!”
    “After I, uh . . .” I glanced at Faith. “After I kind of . . . looked up Michaela’s skirt.”
    There was a horrible silence.
    “That makes sense,” Faith said thoughtfully. “You can’t have a halo if you’re acting like a demon.”
    “Hey!” I protested. “I only looked!”
    “Yes, but you were still, um, filled with lust, right?” Faith was going pink again. She cleared her throat. “That’s one of the Seven Deadly Sins. It’s not very angelic.”
    “But just now I was—uh, that is, you were kind of close to me, and you’re very, um, pretty.” I was certain that my blush had to be as visible as my halo. Clearly, Embarrassment wasn’t a Deadly Sin. “And I’m still glowing.”
    Krystal frowned. “Lust is meant to be sinful. I don’t think simply being attracted to someone is necessarily, you know, a bad thing. Maybe you have to actively be trying to take advantage for it to count, as it were.”
    There was another, longer silence.
    Faith swallowed hard, the sound carrying clearly. “W-well, you’re doing a lot for me,” she said. Her hands went to the top button of her shirt. “S-so I suppose . . .” The shirt slipped, flashing a glimpse of bra strap. “I mean, I do owe you my life.”
    “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to!” I spun around to face the wall, my wings briefly flaring out again before I got them under control. “And I can’t just ogle you in front of an audience!”
    “B-but if it’s the only way . . . Krystal, can you, um, step outside?”
    “Oh, bollocks. This is such a bad idea—”
    A hand closed over my arm, yanking me around. Before I could object, I found myself pushed flat against the wall, head jerked down by my tie, being kissed.
    Very . . . thoroughly kissed.
    Not that I had a lot to compare it to, but I was pretty sure your standard kiss wasn’t this intense. Tongue seemed to be getting involved. My hands slid down over warm, curved hips, her body melting against mine—
    “Um,” I heard Faith say, remarkably clearly. “I don’t think it’s working?”
    I drew back—and found myself looking down at annoyed brown eyes. “Krystal?” I