Solomon Academy 1: Della

DELLA

The sky is beginning to lighten as I wake up panting from my nightmare. It’s not quite dawn, but I’m already wide awake. I pull on my uniform: a black button-down shirt and a pleated skirt. My wardrobe is filled with an assortment of new shoes, but I reach for my old boots, slipping a knife into one for good measure.

I start to sift through the papers that The Doctor handed me last night. My schedule reads: demonology at nine, gym at one, and power training at three. I pack a pair of leggings, a T-shirt, sneakers, and a sports bra into my bag. The thought of gym class makes me cringe. I hope they don’t make me play basketball.

Suddenly, there’s a knock at my door. Before I can respond, Oz barges in. I can’t help but think, what if I had been naked? Mental note: change in the bathroom next time.

I greet him with a smile. “Good morning, Oz. You okay?”

He’s visibly upset. “Some Nephilim jerk is supposed to give you a tour,” he grumbles.

I shrug. “Okay. Let’s grab breakfast before then,” I say, reaching for my bag.

“He’s waiting by the gargoyles. They won’t let him in. He’s not happy.” Oz smirks.

“Well, he can join us. We had plans first.”

We head out, Oz chuckling behind me. “You’re going to be a blast,” he says with a wide grin.

We navigate through what I assume is the living room. I push open the large door and see the gargoyles pinning a giant against the wall. They bow their heads at me. I can’t help but smile at them. They’re kind of adorable, like big stone puppies. I approach them, and they release the guy. He straightens his white button-down shirt, trying to regain his composure before he looks at me.

He’s strikingly handsome, with long black hair and bronze skin. His aura is a fiery mix of proud yellows, angry reds, and excited oranges, with a hint of that delicious black. Something inside tells me he’s a good person.

He finally stops fussing with his shirt and looks at me. A pink blush spreads through his aura, and I hear Oz snort behind me. His eyes are a deep brown, almost black, and a scar trails down the side of his jaw. He looks like a warrior.

“Delaney?” he asks, his voice deep and resonant.

“Della.” I extend my hand, but he ignores it. I lower my hand, maintaining my smile as I watch another little black whisp form. “We’re headed to breakfast. You’re welcome to join us,” I offer.

“I have to give you a tour,” he says, frowning.

“And I don’t know where to eat,” I tease. I see a twitch at the corner of his mouth before he regains control of his expression. Almost got him.

“Fine. But then we go,” he concedes, his tone gruff.

“Absolutely,” I reply, grinning. I offer my elbow to Oz, who links his arm through mine.

“Are you going to let him off that easy?” Oz whispers.

“Do you know me?” I ask, grinning.

“I can’t wait to see this.” Oz laughs as we head to the dining room. He guides me to a large room that’s reminiscent of a high school cafeteria, and we join the line.

I grab a muffin and a water bottle before turning to the towering Nephilim behind me. “I never got your name.”

“Kade.”

“Nice to meet you, Kade,” I say, smiling up at him. I see the pink blush in his aura again.

Oz leads us to a table, and they each take a seat on either side of me. I notice Kade didn’t get anything to eat, so I tear my muffin in half and slide a piece over to him without a word. He’s a big guy; he needs to eat. I’ve been hungry too many times to ignore someone else’s hunger.

“So, what’s your first class?” Oz asks.

“Demonology.”

“Why do you have to take a Nephilim class if you’re a demon?” Kade asks. He actually speaks!

“I think Doc put me in it because I was raised by humans. I don’t know anything about this stuff,” I admit, shrugging.

“It’s not a bad idea,” Oz concedes. “Just be careful; not all Nephilim are as nice as Kade here,” he warns.

“Well, I’ll just have to be my charming self then,” I say, smiling sweetly.

Oz starts choking, and I pat him on the back. “You threatened to cut my balls off the first time we met,” he accuses.

“You deserved that. All three of you were being super creepy,” I retort.

“That…we…fine. But I wasn’t there when Sorin pulled his shit.”

“No, but I saw Sorin and Doc behind you at the bar placing bets. You all deserved worse,” I state firmly.

“You threatened to cut him?” Kade asks, intrigued.

“Yep, she had a knife to my junk and everything.” Oz grins.

“Freak,” I mutter, making Kade laugh. It’s a deep, rough sound that sends shivers down my spine. I’m going to have to make him do that more often.

People turn to look at the source of the booming laughter, their faces a mix of shock and fear.

I finish my half of the muffin and notice Kade’s is gone. Good.

“Are we ready?” I ask, turning to Kade.

He nods, a small, crooked smile still on his face.

I turn back to my new friend. “See you later, Oz!”

He waves, and Kade and I set off.

Kade shows me how to get to the demonology classroom, pointing out various things along the way. He shows me where the gym is and tells me that’s where power training will be held too. He laughs again when I ask about basketball.

“It’s combat training,” he says, still smiling. He points out a door that leads to the library and has to keep me from making a hasty detour. Too bad we have to stay on track to class.

We finally arrive, and I immediately feel out of place. Not just because of my blue hair or because I’m a demon, but because I’m the only girl in this class. It’s as if they can sense my femininity because all eyes are instantly on me.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph…,” I mutter, and hear Kade’s deep chuckle as he moves to his desk. I take a deep breath and grab the seat next to him. A burst of yellow flares into his aura. Pride? That’s strange.

A tall man with dark features walks into the room. His aura is a mix of angry red and protective blue with a few black wisps. He looks like a no-nonsense person—and his aura agrees. I’ve rarely seen that combination of aura colors outside of military personnel or something similar.

“We have a new student with us. Miss Hearst, please stand up,” he says. Ugh! I stand up and everyone stares. “Thank you. You may sit down.”

I go to sit, but I feel a familiar nudge in my mind.

Look.

I look down to see a large hand on my seat, ready to grab my ass. I grab the thumb and force it back, my gaze following up the connected arm until I make contact with two ice-blue eyes wincing in pain.

“Keep your hands to yourself. Or I will take them away from you. Understand?” I say coldly.

I see the shock and fear in his eyes as he nods.

I release him and sit down, then I look up at the professor and wait for him to start the lesson.

Professor Raziel, the demonology professor, appears at my side, his aura blazing reds and blues.

“Caleb. I will not tolerate any of this behavior in my classroom. You know it is forbidden at this school. Go wait in the hall, and we will talk about your penance.”

Mr. Handsy huffs angrily but is apparently smart enough not to argue. The class watches in stunned silence as he packs his bag and walks to the door. He sends a scalding glare my way before Raziel shouts at him to go again.

As soon as Caleb is safely outside, Raziel turns to me. His aura is that same protective blue streaked with proud yellow. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Thank you.”

“I only wish it wasn’t necessary. Please, let me know if it happens again or if he becomes a problem,” he urges.

I nod in acknowledgment, and he leaves me to finally take my seat.

The class itself is very interesting, and I find out that Raziel isn’t Nephilim but a full-fledged angel. And apparently, demons are not creatures of hell but a branch of Nephilim. We still aren’t considered to be true Nephilim, though. More like distant cousins that the Nephilim pretend they aren’t related to. Our purpose is to thin the herd allowed into Heaven. We give people choices. Sometimes they choose wrong.

Angels and Nephilim are actually in charge of both Heaven and Hell. There are warriors, punishers, and avengers—except for cupids, they all seem quite battle-driven.

There are eight main classifications of demons: sloth, gluttony, pride, greed, lust, envy, wrath, and crossroads. Which confuses me even more once we get into what they do. Feeding off various colors of auras. Black is not mentioned. Crossroads demons are neat. They are the lawyers of the supernatural world. All slippery words and loopholes to make mortals pay attention and try harder.

I finish the class with more information but still the same unanswered questions.

“Miss Hearst, would you please come up here for a moment?” Professor Raziel calls.

I walk up to the front of the room. I notice Kade is waiting for me by the door. I smile at that. “Yes?”

“Doctor Tenn was telling me that your placement was inconclusive. I understand that he’s trying to look up the orb’s message. But I was hoping I might be able to help you,” he says kindly. I see nothing but concern and protectiveness in his aura, so that’s comforting.

“How?”

“Describe how you feed.”

“I take the black wisps and the sludge,” I confess.

His brow furrows, much like Oz’s did. “Black?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm…I’m afraid I may have to look into that too. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you,” he says, looking contrite.

I shrug. “It’s all right. Thank you for trying.”

“Of course. Also, welcome to Solomon Academy,” he says with a warm smile.