Dark Angel Academy (The Complete Series) - G. Bailey Page 0,2

fun, while I’ve been in my house, mainly reading. I think back to the book I left half read earlier today, a paranormal romance about—

“What book are you thinking about?”

“How do you know I was thinking about a book?”

“Because I know you, Katy—” Anything Riley was going to say is lost as the car harshly slams into something, and the world seems to slow down. With wide eyes, I grip the steering wheel tightly in my hand and scream as the car seems to float for a moment. In the silence, in the moment where I’m sure I’m floating, I reach for my best friend.

And then everything goes black.

Chapter 2

“She doesn’t scream like the others. How...fascinating.” A deep, albeit hazy, voice drifts to my ears as I lie in something hot, something burning me right down to my soul. I immediately open my eyes and try to sit up, but I can’t see anything except white light and I can’t move. A scream escapes my lips, even though I try to keep it in, as the pain extends from my back, all across my body until there is nothing but the feeling of fire in the pitch-black room. Within seconds the pain is gone, and I fall through the air, slamming solidly onto cold stone as light blasts into my eyes, making them hurt. I curl up, pulling my knees to my naked chest as I dart my eyes around the stone room I’m in. Strange white symbols that look like they are on fire are drawn into the stone around the room, and there must be thousands of them. Looking up, I see white fire in a ball above me, burning so brightly like a star. It’s beautiful, and I find myself staring at it like it can give me some answers to the hundreds of questions running around in my mind.

Was I inside that?

Where are my clothes?

Where the frigging hell am I?

The sound of wood dragging across stone makes me snap my gaze behind me as the only door to the room opens and a man in a white cloak steps in. He has waist-length, straight black hair that somehow doesn’t look feminine at all on him. His hazel eyes watch me under his thick black eyelashes, and I would guess he is in his thirties.

Wait, not a man.

An angel.

White fluffy wings hang off his shoulders, big enough to drop onto the floor behind him. He walks towards me and, to my surprise, sits down on the stone and offers me a white cloak with a pair of white shorts. I eye the clothes in his hands for only a moment before I take them, feeling the silky material under my hands. I carefully put the clothes on, pulling my hair out of the top of the cloak and tucking it around me as I sit still.

“Yes, angels exist, and in the world you grew up in, there was much magic around you,” the angel says first. No explanation to why I’m here, just a statement about there being more magical beings in the world other than me. I wonder if angels can see ghosts.

Lifting my gaze from the ground, I search his calm hazel eyes. “I can see angels exist, clearly...unless you are very good at making costumes. Why did you tell me that?”

“Usually that’s the first question everyone asks. Was it not going to be yours?” he enquires, tilting his head to the side, some amusement and interest in his expression.

When you see ghosts all the time, believing angels are real is nothing. But old habits die hard, so I don’t tell him that.

“I was going to ask who the hell you are and why you kidnapped me,” I state, crossing my arms. “If you are part of some cloak wearing cult group, you have the wrong person. I legit will be the worst member ever.”

To my surprise, he laughs, a soft laugh that makes me want to relax. I don’t though, I’m not stupid. “Young people, you do amuse me so.” He is still laughing, and I glare at him long enough that he clears his throat, a big smile still on his lips. “We did not kidnap you, and we are not a cult, Kaitlyn Lightson.”

“That’s exactly what a cult would say,” I point out, and it only seems to amuse him more. I arch an eyebrow, and he sighs, his smile dropping.

“What is the last thing you remember, Miss Lightson?” he asks, and