Page 33 of Angel Lost (Fates Academy #3)

Chapter Thirty-three: Lorelei

Not in his room. Not in the common room. Not answering his phone. All damn week he hasn’t answered my messages. Now I’m finally back, can speak to him face-to-face, and he’s a ghost rather than an angel. Now I have some kind of weird lust-filled truce going on with Farrell, the need to reconcile with Zephyr feels even more important.

He’s not even read my message saying I was sorry, again. Saying I’m back on campus. I copy the same message, post it in the group chat.

Ali-G Chat

Lorelei: Just back on campus. Coming to find you, Zephyr. How can I make it right?

Nothing.

Lorelei: Guys? Anyone know where I can find Zephyr?

Farrell has changed user Lorelei’s tag to The Brilliant Bal

The Brilliant Bal: Wtf Farrell?

Farrell: He’s with me. I’ll talk to him. He’s gone all hippie-dippie about phones affecting his energy. He’ll barely touch his in case it impacts his chakras or something. Come past my room.

Farrell has changed user Zephyr’s tag to ZanyZephyr

I snort back a laugh. Thank Hecate Zephyr can’t see me.

The Brilliant Bal: Change them back, FuckwitFarrell.

As I reach the bottom of the ancient stone steps, the double doors of the dorms explode outward. A glowing white maelstrom surges forward.

“Zephyr!” He halts, mid-stride, halfway down the steps .

“Hey, Z, I came to apologize.”

Zephyr glares from two steps above me, his sea-green eyes sparking with anger. “No need. Apparently, I’m in the wrong. Or at least it doesn’t matter what I think. Farrell is delighted.”

I shuffle up to stand beside him. “What? By me being a bitch to you?”

The hardness around his eyes softens a little. “No, idiot…your thingy with the hada. It was quite impressive.”

“Uh, thanks?” I touch his arm. “I’m serious, Z. I shouldn’t have said what I did. I didn’t think—”

The doors smash open again, and Farrell stands at the top of the steps, silhouetted by the golden light spilling out behind him, his russet curls seemingly ablaze. For a moment the air leaves my lungs. His broad frame fills the doorway, his suit fitting him perfectly, hugging his shoulders. But it’s his eyes that hold me—sharp, intense blue, and piercing.

Zephyr snorts, yanking his arm from my grip. “Don’t worry about it, Lorelei, you’re not the only one who doesn’t care about my feelings.”

He stalks off down the cobble path, his angelic aura throbbing a cold white around him.

Shit.

I pad after him, but Farrell catches my arm. “I need to talk to you.” He glances over his shoulder, dropping his voice. “I need to talk to you about the rebellion.”

My mind reels. He’s never wanted me involved before…

The Virrey. Has the Virrey broken?

Zephyr glances back, shakes his head, then vanishes around the corner, a sneer on his beautiful face.

“Leave him be,” Farrell says calmly. “He’s in a weird mood. He’s always in a weird mood these days. And…I need you. The rebellion needs you.”

He catches my hand, pulling me behind him up the steps. My feet follow of their own accord. But it’s our hands I can’t stop staring at.

He needs me?

Our feet squelch up the drive toward the Cuelebre mansion, the elegant paving covered in a layer of trampled mud. Kai and Chano trail behind, bickering like school kids, while Farrell leads the way, his jaw set. I don’t think he’d planned to bring everyone, but we’re all here. Everyone except Zephyr.

A battalion of soldiers is running drills on the once-pristine lawns, and the tennis court appears to have become some kind of assault course. Soldiers swarm between the barracks-like buildings, but it’s the tent village I can’t look away from. The kids playing in the mud with sticks, stones. The occasional pair of dirty, child-sized feet sticking out from the branches of the trees lining the drive.

The place is crowded. Overcrowded.

I twitch Farrell’s sleeve. “Why are there so many people?”

Farrell rubs his forehead, squinting around. “The king’s men are hunting us, Lorelei. After my Hand’s illusion failed the scouting increased. The rebels either had to disperse or come here. And it’s safer here. Of course they brought their families. I couldn’t very well ask them to leave them behind.”

I stop in my tracks. “The Angel King has worked out the rebellion is in Venez?”

Farrell tows me the last few yards up the steps into the mansion. “He’s sending more troops. My guess? He’s casting his net wide. Our scouts say the other kingdoms have seen increased volumes of angel soldiers too. So…”

He ushers me in front of him into the once-grand drawing room. Dirty boot marks scuff the wooden floors, and a bunch of generals huddle at one end of the table, maps spread out, heads down.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was still angry with you,” he says, avoiding my gaze. “I had it handled.”

Kai wanders into the room at our backs, pausing as he peers into the mirror hanging above the hearth. “Course he did. He’s a big boy. He had it handled. No doubt trying to work out which other kingdom he could impersonate…”

Farrell grimaces, pulls out a chair for me, then sinks into one of his own. He throws his head back, staring sightlessly at the ornate ceiling carvings. “Kai’s right. But…I couldn’t do it. Not after I realized the damage I did to the fae. But we still can’t afford for the king to catch on to the fact we’re amassing. There are so many, many angel scouts.”

Kai hums, tapping the glass. For a moment it ripples. “Kill every one of them.”

My pulse skips.

He coughs. “I mean…my uncle would. He would kill everyone. He doesn’t have the time to do here what he did in the fae lands. He destroyed our education system, indoctrinated the kids, coerced their parents. Here, he’d just wipe you out. He has the numbers.”

Farrell pales.

Chano slaps Kai over the back of the head. “Very helpful, idiota .”

Kai bares his teeth but sinks into a seat on my other side. “So, you want Lorelei’s help now…although you swore blind over the summer she wasn’t needed? She’d be well within her rights to tell you to sit and spin.”

I suck my cheeks in to avoid laughing at Farrell’s expression. He opens his mouth, then shuts it, redness creeping up his face. Eventually he turns his palms over on the table, studying them intently.

“Yes,” he finally says. “I was wrong.”

Holy hags. Farrell the unflappable is full-on blushing.

I place my hand in his. “We’ve both fucked up, Farrell. We have to move past it. Or everyone is screwed.”

He stares at our hands. “Your aether…the trick you did with hiding the hada. Can you manage that with our rebels? With their camps?”

Slowly, I nod. I can. I can definitely do that .

Farrell squeezes my fingers, then pulls away, clapping loudly. The candles around the table spring to life. Like it’s a signal, his generals join us.

“Back again, princess?” his Hand sneers, his mustache bristling on his top lip. “We thought perhaps you were above mixing with us. Or perhaps you bring more bad news?”

Farrell clears his throat. “That’s enough. Lorelei has been away, learning to control her aether. And now, it’s about to pay off.”

Mustache bristles again. “Yes, learning directly from the Angel King’s sister, I heard. And every time she comes here something bad happens…”

A young female general stands so quickly she knocks her chair over. “Traitor!”

The rest shout agreements.

Farrell snarls, and two small smoke rings rise from his nostrils. The room quiets instantly. “Do not dare disrespect her.”

I pat the back of his hand. “Farrell, it’s a fair concern.”

He glares intensely at the young general. Slowly, she gathers her chair and pulls it back to the table.

“I’m a private person,” I say. “I don’t advertise my life. But clearly I need to be more open. Maybe we do.”

Farrell slings his arm around my shoulders, his eyes golden slits. “Soldiers shouldn’t question. Not like this. We have a system, generals!”

The generals all bow their heads.

“S-sorry. You’re right, Dragon Lord,” the young woman stutters.

I can’t help it. I roll my eyes, hard.

Must not show him up in front of his men. Must not make fun of him.

With a deep breath, I compose myself. “It’s important you can raise your concerns. I like that Farrell has a system. For now, I’ll do my best to convince you I’m worthy of your trust. I can hide the rebellion in the ley lines. ”

“Pockets.” Chano interrupts, his gruff voice breaking the tension. “Do it in several pockets. Not one. Choose spots the Virrey knew nothing of. Then, if he breaks…”

The generals murmur their agreement, slowly becoming more enthusiastic about the idea the longer we talk. I sit back, watching. Who’d have thought? A Cuelebre and a Maverik working together. A Cuelebre, a Maverik, and an orphan from the streets. Kai reaches over, slips Farrell’s knife from its sheath, and uses the point to pick his teeth.

And then there’s the fae.

My arms shake with exhaustion as I twist the final strands into place, sealing the hidden pocket with a spell. The last one. My legs wobble, and only Farrell’s arm around my waist keeps me upright. Dammit, I’m not weak. I plant my feet wider apart. The rebels do not need to see me as weak.

As we walk slowly back to the mansion, the young female general falls into step beside me. I feel her gaze, sense there’s a question.

“Speak freely,” I say.

“Maybe if you spent more time with your people, you’d know how bad it was.”

I nod and keep walking, leaving the floor clear for her.

“Sure, your aether allowed you to make hidden pockets. But we still don’t know we can trust you.”

They don’t. Of course they don’t. But what sticks in my head is her first sentence.

With my people.