Ge n e s i s

HadesHigh
BookOne
By Jessica Naomi
 Chapter 1
New Orleans, 16th July

H owls sang through the air, the pitch cheered and high. Celebratory howls. The bayou

was filled with the sounds of those celebrating, eerie and chilling to those of more normal
habits. The large mansion was hidden cleverly in the bayou, enclosed by thorn bushes and
high hedges; impossible to climb without drawing blood. And near this estate the slightest
drop could kill you. The mansion walls were made of the purest black marble, the windows
from the faces of a diamond, unbreakable. Four storeys high, the house towered over the
natural barrier, but then again few were ever brave enough to look up. 54 acres of flat and
wooded land lay beyond those deadly confines, sapphire lakes and flowing rivers, the water
 purer than that of anywhere in the country. A paradise amidst the humid, dank, mosquito-
infested surroundings.

The interior was set in dark hues of black, reds, purples, blues; each room different to the
next, yet strangely similar.

“The letter came, Nightmare, it came! You have been accepted. Congratulations, dear! You
are now an acknowledged Angelic. Soon to be an Angel like me and your Father.”

The tall woman was practically drunk with joy, weaving about the room as though she was
actually intoxicated. Her laughing face was frozen in an insanely cheery smile. Yuck!
Her red hair was loose and flowing, the blonde streaks stark against the blood red silk.

“Gee, mom, what an honour. I am like so, so happy. I might even kill myself!”

The young woman was curled up in a large cushioned black chair, hidden in the darkest
corner of the room. Her dark mahogany hair, with its liberally streaked rainbow lights, was
even more pronounced in the shadows. The tone of her voice was cheerfully sarcastic,
making it clear she meant the complete opposite. Her mother didn‟t seem to notice. When the
older woman beamed, the girl rolled her dark grey eyes towards the ceiling and curled her lip
in disgust. She stopped mid-roll as she caught her father‟s frustrated gaze and proceeded to
stare him down. Reluctantly, he dropped his yellow eyes first and Nightmare smiled in
triumph.
Silence stretched out, tension wrapping its delicate fingers around the occupants of the room.

“I‟m not going. No way in hell am I putting up with the useless, snivelling Angelics that are
definitely going to be there. Plus, Raphael hates me and will delight in the task of making me
miserable. I‟ll just stay here. I know everything anyway.” She folded her arms and nodded
decisively

“Pack your bags, Nightmare, you‟re going. No argument.”

Her father‟s voice was deep and commanding. His wings were arched in anger as he moved
to stand beside her mother, a show of solidarity, who was now looking at her with such
expectation and pride on her young face that it actually hurt to look at. Frozen forever in their
youth the moment her eldest brother was born, her parents both looked not a day over 25,
both incredibly gorgeous, they looked like runway models.

“Nightmare…..”

Her father growled and, unfortunately, in that moment he was too Angel for her Angelic to
disobey. She snarled back and stalked upstairs.
The candles in the room flickered and Rawson Kantos released a ragged breath.

“Why is she so damn dominant?”

He looked at his wife, exasperated, for an answer.

“She‟s like you. Vicious, commanding, stubborn, ruthless, maybe even more so. Her warrior
side overpowers the healer, leaving her more predator than anything else.”
Her golden eyes sparkled up at him. Fiorana Kantos. Even he couldn‟t get over the sheer
beauty of his Angel. His match. His wife. Rawson gently brushed his lips over hers,
deepening the kiss when her soft lips parted. They were lost.

*****

Nightmare stomped upstairs. Well, as much as bare feet could allow one to stomp. She
padded down the carpeted hallway to the winding staircase at the very end.
94 bedrooms the bloody house had.
All double.
All with ensuite bathrooms.
All occupied.
Her room was the attic. Now, she couldn‟t really complain, seeing as the attic spread out
across the whole layout of the house. It was huge. Nearly four times the size of a football
field, painted complete midnight black. The walls, the ceiling, the floor. Black. Heavy velvet
drapes hung over the giant diamond windows in her room, keeping the cheerful daylight out.
Yippee!!
Her door was unlike any of the others, oh it was wide enough to accommodate wings, every
door in the house was, but she‟d had one of those jail cell doors installed.
The ones you see in movies. With the bars?
Very dramatic.
The giant sitting wolf statue beside it was the key. A very complex process was needed to
unlock it though. Normally, she patted it six times on the head, stroked its marble belly six
times, before finally rubbing its snout another six times.
666.
Funny, huh?
This routine wasn‟t necessary but it never failed to calm her down. In case of emergency,
you just said the password.
Once this time.

Nightmare took her time with the bizarre ritual, her waist length mahogany hair covering the
statue as she bent.
With a groan, the ancient jail bars parted and, smiling slightly, she entered her lair, the one
place her father‟s views couldn‟t reach her. The ornate gothic wardrobe cast shadows over a
large expanse of the room and her coffin shaped bookcases stood against the black walls,
packed with all genres of books, but mainly occupied by supernatural and paranormal
romances. Nightmare ran her fingertips along the spines, lovingly remembering the times she
had spent hidden away, lost in the story, away from her strict and slightly insane parents.
Candles sprang to life as a lit match floated, seemingly of its own accord, around to light the
hundreds of church and pillar candles set around the room. The flames cast eerie shadows
over the many ornaments, disfiguring the prancing, hunting and fighting big cats until they
looked extremely macabre.

Smiling tenderly, Nightmare walked slowly over to her custom made wing friendly bed and
flopped down atop the black sheets. The iron bed head had been lovingly shaped into a
snarling leopard‟s head, Celtic knot work surrounding it. The posts were iron roses, black,
twining around each other to support a velvet canopy of flowing materials. She glanced
around at her things, the beautifully woven medieval tapestries and Calvin Klein model
posters.
 Her life, the familiarity.
She had two weeks to pack her things, to take what she needed.
Two weeks to pack her life away.
In that moment she hated her family, hated the school.
She didn‟t want the Archangels to be superior to her.
Didn‟t want another person trying to control her.
That‟s what she‟d had all her life.
Control.
Always that iron leash clasped around her neck, restricting.
Again she glanced around her room, memories swept out of the dark corners to greet her.
And she was going to have to leave it all. Nightmare sighed, tears gathering briefly in her
eyes. Letting out a disgusted breath, she looked around her room, eyes sparking blue
suddenly. A wicked smile curved her beautiful lips. The decision had been made. She was
going to pack her most gothic clothes and not tone down her tempestuous nature one little bit.
Hades High, the devil is now among you, she thought. And, pulling out a large case, started
packing.

New Orleans, 31st July

Eyes like turbulent storm clouds flipped open, fringed by midnight lashes, luscious mouth
wide and screaming. Nightmare woke bathed in bright sunlight, cringing away, still
screaming until she heard soft laughter. Damn ghost. Working with my parents today are
you? She thought, bummer. Lilith, resident ghost, tad insane, was now standing by the
window, black drapes pulled back, letting fair, bloody daylight in. Smashing! Much to her
further dismay, her mothers beautiful voice drifted into the room, even brighter than the
sunlight.
“Up, up Nightmare, first day of school! You‟re getting the plane with your brothers. Out in a
half hour, OK?” Nightmare mumbled a half hearted reply, and then dropped her head back
onto her pillow.

Somewhere near Lake Marion, South Carolina, 31st July

The school was huge! A towering gothic monster of a building, gargoyles included. White
stone walls and pointed turrets, it looked like a medieval castle, like those in picture books or
in horror movies. Stone arches and glass windows depicting scenes from mythology, along
with beautiful images of Angels and Archangels, all worked lovingly into the glass. There
were about twenty students milling about, all Angelics, on the lawn and by the fountains, but
it seemed like he was the first of his kind there. Wandering over to the large fountain, a stone
carving of a wolf howling, Dagan sat down and dropped his rucksack to the floor. The car
had dropped him off at the enormous metal gates and he‟d had to walk about a mile past
perfectly manicured lawns and unusual fountains before he could even see the school. Now
he was hungry. The sun was hot as it beat down on him and he lifted the heavy curtain of
silky, midnight black, shoulder length hair up off his neck and back, securing it in a braid and
pulling it over his shoulder. Sweat ran in a steady stream between his shoulder blades,
soaking the muscle shirt he was wearing.
Then his stomach rumbled. The few students present all froze mid-movement and those
nearer to him backed hastily away, eyes wide.
Healers, the lot of them.
Brilliant! Dagan sighed, he was hungry and his classmates feared him….already. He turned
to look over his shoulder at the crystal liquid in the fountain behind him, tuning out the
sounds of the others. A tentative hand on his arm had him turning to see a short girl with long
blonde hair and pink eyes. She was plump but had a beautiful, ethereal face. She wore a long,
sky blue caftan thing with matching slippers. In her hands she held a bag of pig‟s blood.

“I was going to use it in an experiment, but I think you need it more.” Her face was open and
friendly as she pushed the bag into his hand.

“You sure?” He asked, and when she nodded, he pierced the bag with his elongated canines
and drank deeply.

She smiled when he stuffed the empty bag into his rucksack and dragged the back of his hand
across his mouth.

“I‟m Elena Salvatore. I‟m a healer.” She extended her hand so he could see the small star and
crescent moon birthmark on the inside of her wrist; she spoke with a slight accent, Spanish,
maybe?

“Dagan Lunar. Warrior.” He replied, grasping her tiny hand in his and showing her the sword
birthmark on the inside of his elbow.

“Figured. The blood was a dead giveaway.” She beamed and he couldn‟t help returning it.
Something about her made him soften.

Murmurs drew their attention to the long driveway. The healers huddled together,
whispering, eyes wide, bodies trembling. Something was coming, something dangerous. He
tensed, eyes on the driveway. Elena was relaxed beside him, legs drawn up under her body,
fingers playing in the water. Then he saw them. Whispers went up.

“Nightmare…..”

“Nightmare‟s coming…..”

“I didn‟t think she was coming here….”

“It‟s going to be hell…..”

“Goddess protect us all….”

Over the hill, ten of the scariest and most beautiful creatures stalked, in long, lithe
movements, graceful, predatory. 9 males, 1 female. The female was the person he was most
captivated by.
About 5‟ 9, the males towered over her, but she carried herself with an air of strength and
violence.
She was every bit as scary as the guys.
Dressed in baggy black jeans, a sheer black mesh top with floor-length, flowing, embroidered
sleeves and a figure hugging velvet, sleeveless waistcoat, buttoned to just beneath her breasts
– her black bra was showing – and the clothes emphasised her voluptuous curves. She wasn‟t
stick thin like most girls; her body was soft and cushiony, curvy and very sexy. Her waist
length mahogany hair was luscious and thick, her multicoloured streaks more sinister than
beautiful. But what captured him most were her eyes.
A deep grey , like a turbulent seascape, stormy and wild, with underlying bolts of blue and
silver, framed by thick, long, black lashes.
Cat‟s eyes.
The pupil was a vertical slit, wide, not round like humans. The others with her had the same
cat eyes.
How strange.

Still watching the macabre group advance towards the school, Dagan whispered,
“Who are they?”

“They‟re the Kantos family. Warriors.” Elena paused and then, “It‟s unusual to have an entire
family of warriors, but their parents are and their grand parents and their great grandparents.
All of their siblings, their cousins…… all of them. The female in front is Nightmare Kantos,
she‟s in our year. She has a somewhat violent reputation, but she‟s cool once you know her.
She either loves you or she hates you.”

“The school…..does it let anyone in?”

“Oh yes. There is usually only around twenty Angelic children born each year and most die
before they can become Angels. But they do look at bloodlines and medical files, extra
curricular activities, hobbies, intelligence, abilities. Lots of things factor into the arranging of
classes. But every member of the Kantos family has been a warrior. It‟s only right that they
get accepted. My mom was so thrilled when I got accepted. She wanted me to follow in her
footsteps. What about you?”

“Some guy came to my barracks in the middle of the night. Dragged me from my bed, tied
and gagged, shoved me in a car and drove away. I awoke parked outside of a Wendy‟s two
days ago, not too far from here. And the guy that had nabbed me was sat in the front seat,
watching me. He told me what I was. What I had to do, where I had to go. He gave me the
letter that invited me into the school. This school.” Dagan gestured to the school with a wave
of his arm. “I was in a military training academy anyway, so I thought why not use the scary
speed, strength and senses in a place I could actually use them, where I didn‟t have to hide?
So, here I am. Nervous and a little scared, and having no idea what to expect.”

Elena smiled sympathetically and patted his arm. He‟d had a lot to contend with in the last
few days. It had to be hard for him.
Dagan looked away, embarrassment colouring his cheeks and turned to the family of
warriors.

“Who are the guys?”

“The male with the shoulder-length dark brown hair and yellow eyes, the tallest one, is
Adonis. He‟s twenty one and three years above us. The guy next to him is his twin Hunter.
You can tell them apart by the fact that Hunter has brown eyes and is slightly shorter and his
wings are brown on yellow instead of yellow on brown. Then there is Oberon- the tall mousy
brown one, who has gold eyes – and Malachi, the Angel beside him with the auburn hair and
emo fringe and the coppery wings. They‟re twenty and are two years above us. Lykan is the
one directly in front of Adonis. You see him? The one with the red hair and grey eyes.”

“Are the guys next to him his triplets or something?” Dagan was awed by this family.

“Yeah, that‟s Phoenix and Kian. Phoenix is the guy with the longer red hair and his eyes are a
darker grey, almost black. He‟s taller too. Kian has the short-ish, curly red hair and his eyes
are more yellow than grey. They‟re nineteen. Finally, the guys behind Nightmare are Kai and
Fenrir, or Rei. They‟re in our year, too. Kai has the waist-length silver hair and light grey
eyes. He is taller and broader than his twin. Rei has golden brown hair and brown eyes.
They‟re all really nice. Well… I think they are anyway. Pretty spectacular aren‟t they?”

Dagan snorted in agreement. The warriors looked at the huddled healers and went to sit under
a tree away from everyone else. Dagan opened his mouth to say something but at that
moment Nightmare turned to look at the fountain. Elena waved and smiled brightly. He was
surprised when the female returned the smile just as brightly, flashing killer canines, then she
turned her gaze to him. He swore he saw her grey eyes spark briefly but then her brother, Kai,
said something to her and she tuned back into the family conversation. He said something
else and they all laughed. A deep blush spread over her face – he could see her cheek – and
he saw Kai grin and wink at him over her head.

*****

As the morning wore on, more students arrived. Angelics, Angels, healers and warriors, soon
the front lawn was teeming with students. Dagan chatted to Elena, learning her likes and
dislikes, everything about her. She was very forthcoming and he found her intelligent and
amusing, his laughter genuine. At one point though, he became so absorbed in watching the
Kantos family under the great tree, girls had joined them, hot Angel and Angelic girls and
they were welcomed with open arms – and mouths – by the seven older males, whilst the
others poked fun at them. Elena punched him hard in the arm, laughing at his shocked
expression, doubling over when he hissed playfully at her.
A bell rang and the older students moved off to wherever they were supposed to be. The
building looked even more like the set of a horror movie as the front was occupied only by
first year students, all waiting, for something. The pupils had instinctively gathered into their
groups. The warriors were gathered around the tree near Nightmare and her remaining
brothers, and the healers were sat on the grass in circular clusters, chanting.

Purple sparks shot up from the solid front doors, startling the lounging beings. Nightmare
glanced towards the door before continuing her conversation. On the steps leading into the
school stood three very different people, two men and a woman. The woman brought her
hand down and blew on her fingers like a smoking barrel. A couple of the students laughed
and she smiled radiantly.

“Hola, mis niños. Welcome to Hades High. Here you will be trained to be the very best you
can be. You will learn to utilize your skills, develop new ones and become full Angels.
Hopefully.” She paused to laugh, her voice a sweet Spanish trill, pleasant and light. “On a
more serious note. Many Angelics don‟t survive their first two or three years here. They don‟t
have the strength, the skill, or the spirit to be Angels, and so they wither and die. You may
not make it. So live each day as though it were your last. Fight hard, learn quickly. Put
everything you are into your classes. Try.” She looked sad for a moment and silence reigned
over the students. Dagan sat shocked, his mouth agape.

“I am Señora Salvatore, but you must all call me Gabriel. No Mrs this, Mrs that, okay? I am
the head of the healers overall. Healers, you have any serious problems, you have to come to
me. You will all meet your year tutors soon. Well…..enough from me. I‟ll let the guys
introduce themselves now.”

Dagan stared at the slender woman on the steps. Her hair was a silvery blond wave to her
elbows, her eyes a deep purple set like gems in an elfin face. She looked about 27 and was
beautiful. Her wings were the same colour as her hair, with flecks of amethyst on the tips,
sweeping inward as though the purple were air painted on. The glow to her skin and the size
of her wings entitled her Archangel.

“That‟s my mom,” Elena whispered.

He was about to say something when he was interrupted by a deep voice. The man on the
right of Gabriel was speaking.
“My name is Raphael. I am the head of the warriors. I deal with all warrior -related
problems.” He grinned, flashing fang and Elena sighed.

Dagan turned to study her.

She had this dreamy look on her face.
Well he was kind of hot, from a girl‟s point of view. Raphael‟s hair was a royal navy blue, so
dark it was almost black, silky and ankle length, his eyes a mixture of forest and emerald
green. Chiselled jaw and muscular body. His body glowed and his wings, the colour of
raven‟s wings, were enormous and stunning, shimmering blue and green as the sunlight
caught them. Flashes of green swirled around his form.
He was gorgeous.
Dagan frowned as he realised it was Elena‟s thoughts in his head. Shaking it to clear them,
he tuned into what the last man was saying.

“Hey guys, gals. I‟m Michael. Head of everyone.” He paused as the students laughed. “Now
introduction time for all of you. We‟re gonna sit in a really big circle and give our name,
group, likes, dislikes. Also- Excuse me,” he cleared his throat, “Uh, Nightmare, you got
something more important to say?” Everyone turned to look at her as she stood up.

“Yeah actually. I was just telling my brothers that I‟m totally beat, this sunlight is fucking
killing my eyes and someone is wearing really strong cologne and it‟s murdering my senses.
Plus, didn‟t I tell you that the English boy look totally doesn‟t suit you? You look like a
ponce.” She paused and stared at him, all innocent whilst her brothers snickered behind her.

“Anything else?” Michael‟s lips were twitching.

“Hmmm, let me think, oh yeah. Larissa would like to see you in leather. Me too, girl, me too.
Seraphina wants you naked. Very explicit images in her head. And every female is picturing
a sexy romp in the woods behind here beneath a full moon. Aroooooo!” Her howl was joyful
and mysterious with an underlying hint of cruelty.
No one spoke. Raphael was barely suppressing his laughter and Gabriel‟s eyes were
sparkling. The two girls she‟d mentioned were glaring daggers at her, but the warriors didn‟t
seem too bothered. Obviously they knew what she was like.

Michael sighed.
“Ah, Nightmare, what a blast of pure, clean, evil air you are. We‟re so lucky to have you and
your sarcasm here with us now. It‟s gonna be a scream.”

She curtseyed delicately, batting her eyelashes ridiculously.

“It sure is,” she replied evilly.

“Now, everyone into a circle. Quickly.”

It seemed he really was the master then as everyone shuffled into an odd shaped circle. The
three Archangels moved onto the lawn, Michael, flame haired, onyx eyed, black and red
wings, led the way. Dagan sat down on the grass, Elena on one side and a blue haired, red
eyed beauty on the other. Dagan watched as Nightmare plonked herself none too gracefully
on the grass next to Elena. There was a big space between her and the other end of the circle,
which her brothers and the Heads promptly filled.

They started with the girl on Dagan‟s left. She flung her sky blue hair over her shoulder and
began.

“I‟m Seraphina Cortez. Healer. I like attention and being popular and dislike anybody who
doesn‟t adore me.”

Okay, then. Psycho! Dagan was next. They were moving round the circle clockwise.
“Dagan Lunar. Warrior. I like running, horse riding and sparring. I dislike selfish people and
rabbits are just plain scary. They‟re too cute.”

Laughter echoed around the circle.

“I‟m Elena Salvatore. Healer. I like the Sun and the Moon, and dislike disharmony and war.”
Lots of agreeing murmurs from fellow healers.

“Nightmare Kantos,” the warriors all howled, “Warrior. I like annoying people and sparring,
brutally. I dislike popular, vain people,” she said, then with a whisper, “with blue hair, red
eyes and a t-shirt saying „I am beautiful, worship me‟”

Sniggers at that. It took ages to get around the whole circle, and at the end Dagan still didn‟t
really know his fellow classmates. Names were called and he trundled over to find out his
assigned dorm group.

After that, the Angelics were sent in alphabetical order to Gabriel, who would then confirm
that which their birthmark indicated and write it into the compiled leather tome, which
registered each Angelic and their purpose.
She smiled at the first, very nervous, Angelic who walked through the door, seated her and
started in on her investigation.
It was a very small year group. Only seventeen.
Twenty had been the last lowest number.
They were fading.

Chapter 2
N ightmare was pissed. The dorm arrangements were six of each group to one house.

That was eleven more people she‟d have to live with. Three guys and three girls from each
group. Fuck. Nightmare didn‟t play well with other boys and girls. Sighing, she heaved her
luggage up the stairs and picked a room. First come, first choice. The room was a lot smaller
than the one at home, though the biggest of all the other rooms. Closing her eyes, she pictured
her room at home and „applied‟ it to the dorm room.
Brilliant.
The room was now a mini replica of her one at home. Ornaments, books, clothes, walls,
everything. She‟d spent all her time leading up to her departure learning to Transport. She‟d
always been able to Transport things but to perfect a Transportation of that size she‟d had to
practice for weeks. But she‟d done it.
Whoop!
She smiled happily. Locking the door, she flopped down on the bed and puffed strands of
purple hair out of her eyes, curling up.
Snoring.

Kyanite eyes flipped open at the sound of voices. Perfect. Her housemates had arrived. She
could hear them unpacking in various rooms, their voices happy and excited. Unlocking the
door, she padded downstairs, her sleek striped hair shimmering. The fridge and cupboards
were fully stocked. Various DVD‟s and videos filled cupboards in the living room.
It was all warm and cosy.
After grabbing a tub of Ben and Jerry‟s „Chocolate Fudge Brownie‟ ice cream, she collapsed
onto the couch, sinking into the cushions.
Nothing much on TV.
Ooh! Cujo.
Settling back, she watched as Stephen King‟s rabid St Bernard attacked people. Excellent!
Footsteps alerted her to the approach of someone else. Eyes still on the screen, she only
moved over a bit on the couch. To avoid any contact. Elena dropped herself onto the sofa and
beamed. Nightmare was confused.
“I thought you were in another dorm?” She turned to look at her friend.

“I was. Larissa wanted to switch when she heard she‟d be with you.” Elena beamed again and
Nightmare couldn‟t help but return it.

“Ooh! Cujo!” Elena squealed and snuggled into the cushions.

The giant dog on the screen was now ripping into a young boy‟s leg. They‟d seen worse but
both girls screamed and hid at the appropriate places, laughing at each other afterwards. By
the end of the film, they were rolling on the floor in stitches, tears streaming down their faces.
Obviously brought by the peak of their hysterical laughing, the rest of the students had come
down.

Nightmare froze as she realised they had an audience. She picked herself up off the floor and
stared at the spectators.

“What?” They wouldn‟t stop looking at her.

“We didn‟t think you could laugh. It‟s a surprise, that‟s all.” One brave warrior spoke up, his
voice quiet and pleading for forgiveness.

Nightmare was shocked into silence and couldn‟t think of a good enough come back. He‟d
actually answered her question and the answer had been honest, not snide. Elena sighed as
her friend lashed out. Nightmare sank back down onto the sofa as the others filed in.
They sat down on the other chairs, away from Nightmare, but settled down to watch the next
film.
It just happened to be Dracula: Prince of Darkness. The warriors whooped and howled. The
healers just laughed.

“I‟m Ruthven Venta. Warrior. I didn‟t mean to offend you before Nightmare. I was simply
answering your question.” He shook his head to emphasise his point.

He seemed to get the ball rolling with the introductions. The Asian female next to him spoke
up.

“I‟m Kameko Hiroshima. Warrior.” Two down, three to go.

“Lorena Ferria. Warrior.” She was quite short for a warrior, her pink eyes extremely pale and
her hair a dark blond.

“My name is….is….Me…Meri….Meridian Hanlas. Healer.” The petite redhead stuttered her
way through her introduction and then blushed, ducking her head and hiding behind her
curtain of hair. The male healer beside her reached out a hand to her, for comfort.

Nightmare looked around at the bizarre bunch, brow crinkling in confusion. She couldn‟t
fathom at all how people could be so comfortable with one another. She was never
comfortable in big crowds. She could tolerate being with all her brothers at once, but other
people, she could barely stand to be around. Elena was an exception to that.
“I‟m Carter Gardra. Healer.” The male perched on the chair beside Meridian, his dirty blond
hair cut shorter than was usual. He seemed cocky as he announced himself – like he was
royalty or something. He also introduced another Angelic, cutting through the guy‟s
introduction.
“That‟s Dangtr Xongax. Healer.” He pronounced the name Danger Skongaks. This was
evidently wrong judging by the other guy‟s facial expression.

Nightmare leaned forward, forcing eye contact with Dangtr.

“How do you correctly say your name?” Carter looked at her shocked, mouth gaping.

“You say it Danter – the G is silent – Shongaks.” He spoke with an unusual accent none of
the others could place. “It‟s Mesopotamian. Means flowing river as it travels over mountain.
My parents travel through time a lot; we lived in Mesopotamia for a while. Hence the
accent.” He smiled.

Carter scowled in the corner, upset that attention had been taken off of him.

“Where are the others?” Elena spoke up from her corner. Nightmare‟s eyes were still locked
onto Carter, the hair on the back of her arms raised, her senses telling her something she
couldn‟t quite understand.

“The other female healer left as soon as she unpacked. I don‟t know about the male warrior.
I‟m Cole Brennan, by the way. Healer.” The brunette guy grinned easily, and reached out to
shake hands with those closest to him.

He was the guy who‟d offered the much needed comfort to Meridian.
Nightmare smiled slightly at him, eyes still focused on Carter.
When he turned to look at her she swore she saw something black slip across his eyes.
The other warrior introduced himself as Squire Tremayne and his brown hair was so dark it
was almost black, his eyes a soft topaz colour, sparkling up from under thick lashes.
Nightmare tilted her head to one side, studying the handsome Angelic. She‟d known him for
years.
He was her brothers‟ friend and he often stayed over. He really was handsome.
The door burst open and two tall men pushed their way through the vestibule, the door
swinging back on the younger one and hitting him in the head.
He grunted and dragged his luggage through the gap.
The door hit him a second time before he managed to manoeuvre himself inside. The other
male was Raphael, Archangel and head of the warriors.
He smiled at Elena – everyone knew Elena through her mother- and she smiled back,
friendly.
Nightmare didn‟t expect the surge of jealousy that washed over her.
She stifled the growl as it built in her throat, knew the Angelics had heard it because their
eyes lowered and they dipped their heads in a very submissive posture.
They had all flinched.
Raphael stepped into the room, helping the Angelic with his luggage.

“Hey guys, I found him wandering. Thought I‟d make sure he got here safely. I‟m not
intruding am I?” Everyone shook their heads. “Ooh, what we watching?”
He dropped himself into the place Elena vacated for him, while she sat on the floor by
Nightmare‟s feet. His wings folded flat against his back.

“Cujo.” Nightmare‟s voice was barely audible, but he heard it and smiled across at her.

A light blush coloured her pale cheeks and she hid behind her hair.
The other guy stood awkwardly in the doorway.

“Hey, I‟m Dagan Lunar. Warrior.” He smiled and waved in greeting, a little shy under the
others gaze.

He‟d heard Nightmare‟s growl but couldn‟t understand the reaction. He had a lot to learn
about Angelics, Angels and Archangels. He knew next to nothing about all three, so new to
the world that he was walking blind. He pulled his bags into the living room and stood,
waiting.

“You‟re the last so you get the remaining room. It‟s the one with nothing on the door. To
claim it, just cover it with something. Tough break, dude.” The Angelic male, Ruthven, spoke
up, explaining.

Dagan smiled in thanks and took his bags up the stairs. It was a large stairway, curling
upwards in a metallic spiral. A long hallway at the top, painted a deep purple, with blue,
black and red spirals painted over the top. It was bizarre. He past doors, searching for one
with nothing on it, but all had posters or pictures, stickers or nameplates. Then there it was,
near the end of the hallway, next to the door at the very end of the hall. The door next to his
had Victoria Frances pictures stuck to it, along with Calvin Klein posters and quotations. It
was….interesting. He unlocked the door and stepped inside.

A small room, but not an ugly one. A double bed was squeezed into an alcove and the walls
were a ruby red, a chest of drawers and a small wooden wardrobe were the only other
furniture.
Two shelves were drilled onto the wall, empty and dusty. Dagan dropped his bags on the
floor and went over to the bed. The sheets were clean and satin, crimson coloured with a
black fringe.
He sighed and looked around at his new home……another one, always moving around, never
in one place for too long. He was tired of it.
He quickly unpacked his stuff, filling the dusty shelves with precious books, memories he
treasured.
Soon the room looked more like his own and he relaxed a little, but still dreaded the coming
school days.

Since the age of four, Dagan had needed regular blood transfusions or he literally starved.
Since the age of eleven, he‟d been drinking blood out of blood bags stolen from the local
hospital, after finding that nothing else satisfied his hunger.
He‟d come upon this strange craving whilst he‟d been playing in the woods with Mark
Griegson, and the other boy had fallen and cut himself on the sharp gravel. Dared to lick a
drop of the blood on Mark‟s knee, Dagan had discovered that what filled him up like no other
food could…….. was blood.

He sat down on the bed and listened to the chatter downstairs.

They all knew where they came from, all knew what they could do, all knew who their
parents were.
They all knew how to interact with each other. He still thought like a human and caught
himself gasping when he saw Angels hovering inches above the floor, or riding on the roots
of a tree.
He had to stop himself from calling the mental institution when he saw wolves and big cats
turn into young men and women, and had to prevent himself from calling the bomb squad
when he saw Angelics walking around with fire coming from their hands or when he had to
duck a stray fireball hurled playfully at another student.
He was still adjusting and it was taking some time. As he listened to the others move around
downstairs he felt the overwhelming need to cry.
Never had he cried, but now, in a place that was full of people like him, he was still alone.
Still a misfit.
And it nearly killed him.
The world he was in now was even more unfamiliar to him than the one he‟d left. The
human world had made more sense to him, but not by much.
He didn‟t seem to fit in anywhere, didn‟t get on with anyone, could relate to nothing. The
walls closed in on him as his head started to panic, and his body caught up with the process
and jittered nervously on the silken covers.
He was a vibrating mass of stress and it was a wonder the students downstairs couldn‟t feel
the quakes through the walls and floor.
He fought viciously with both his mind and body, stilling them with a lot of effort, and
controlling the worst of his anxiety.
The sun was just beginning to set and it sent little red rays through the gaps in the curtain,
illuminating strips of the carpet, lighting it so it took on an orangey hue. The rays flickered on
the wall as the sun reluctantly got ready for bed, and the sky mourned its departure with
purple-bruised clouds.
Dagan flopped back into the mattress, turning his head so he could watch the sun‟s daily
funeral, noting how the world seemed to stop with respect as it disappeared into the horizon‟s
embrace. He never noticed when his eyes closed, didn‟t feel sleep pulling him under, or hear
the Sandman‟s quiet laughter.
 Chapter 3
T he knock on the door signalled the death of the person who first put his fist to the wood.

Dagan groaned and glared at the door, willing the knocker to go away.
He didn‟t.
Or rather she didn‟t.
Elena came through the door, shielding her eyes and poked him in what she hoped was his
arm.

“Are you naked? Get up!” She turned her back to give him privacy but kept up the bothering.

“I‟m not naked, Elena. You can turn around.” She smiled as she turned.

“I thought you might need a little help getting up. You seemed out of sorts when you got here
yesterday. And I thought I could look at your timetable and compare.” Her voice was bright
despite the earliness of the day – 7:00 – and her face was eager.

She was already dressed and her face was perfectly done up in natural tones and her hair was
brushed straight and sleek.
She was stunningly beautiful, and something in him sparked at the sight of her.
He waved her towards his pile of school documents- the timetable was on top- and then
searched through the drawers for something to wear.
Leaving her to study his timetable, he slipped out of the door to the bathroom. Empty.
Dagan showered quickly, brushed his teeth even faster, and then dragged himself into clean
clothes.

Raphael met him in the hallway and walked him back to his room, chatting away.
The Archangel had stayed the night just in case Dagan had had some trouble settling.
Out of all the new Angelics, Mr Lunar alone seemed to have trouble adjusting.
He stopped outside Dagan‟s door and they both froze.
Nightmare‟s door was slightly ajar and through the gap he could see her wriggling her buxom
body into skinny black jeans.
The waistband stuck slightly at her rounded hips and she struggled to pull them over. Puffing
a strand of hair out of her eyes, she stared at the bad mannered jeans and a light came into her
cat‟s eyes.
The jeans vanished for a second before reappearing on her form, skin tight and gorgeous.
Raphael felt his breath hitch in his throat, heard Dagan‟s gasp.

In that brief moment before the jeans had moulded themselves to her body he‟d seen
something that would stay with him always; the sight of beautifully voluptuous thighs, pale
with slight bruising around the knee but beautiful all the same.
He‟d also seen the black Lycra boxers she‟d been wearing and that‟s what made him catch
his breath.
She was so gorgeous, so wild and different.
Raphael pushed Dagan into his room and turned away quickly.

Dagan stumbled through the door and fell into a sitting position on the bed, trying to restart
his heart.

“What‟s up?” Elena‟s worried voice cut through his stunning memory and he turned to look
at her, not really seeing her.

“I saw something I wasn‟t supposed to see.” Dagan whispered the words and before he knew
it the story was pouring out of him.

When he finally looked up it was to see Elena pressing her lips tight to conceal the laughter
that was racking her body.

“Don‟t worry about it. She probably knew you were there anyway, she‟s got a predator‟s
nose, remember? And if she wasn‟t bothered, you shouldn‟t be.” Then she looked at his
clothes and sighed.

“What!?” He asked defensively, looking himself over to see if he‟d forgotten anything
important like pants.

But no, his black jeans were there and his navy muscle shirt was sat tight against his skin.
She just shook her head and went rooting through the wardrobe. After a moment she
emerged with a black shirt and tossed it to him.
As he pulled it on, she sat beside him and started to go through the little welcome pack with
him.
The timetable matched hers and she showed him the map of the school, getting him to
memorize it so he wouldn‟t get lost.
He was starting to panic by the time they‟d got through it all and classes were about to start.
With tugs from Elena, Dagan went reluctantly down the hall and they set off across campus.

*********

Nightmare stalked across the campus grounds towards the English classrooms, fighting back
a fierce mood and the need to fight. The air around her was sparking with her wild Angelic
magic, and Angels moved out of range as she passed. English first thing in the morning
should have put her in a good mood, but due to a certain sexy Archangel creeping into her
dreams, she hadn‟t slept very well. She growled at a third year and the Angel backed off, his
eyes wide and his palms sweaty. She smirked, loving the fear she inspired in people.

She knew what she was.

Liked it most of the time.
It would take them a while to figure it out.
Even her parents hadn‟t clued in.
She found the room with no trouble - thanks to Elena‟s morning visit.
It was half full already but the teacher hadn‟t arrived yet so she slipped into a desk at the
very back of the room, in the corner.
She felt eyes on her as she bent her head to doodle in her note book.
There were two other empty desks near hers, but as Angelics filed in, they weren‟t occupied.
The other warriors nodded to her in acknowledgement, but other than that no one even
pretended to notice her.
Nightmare sighed; this was what she had wanted all along, to be alone, but now that she had
it, she craved some sort of communication.

Something in the room changed.

A warm rush went through her body.

A scent teased her sensitive nose and she closed her eyes as she inhaled more deeply.
Chocolate-caramel coffee with hints of morning dew and moonlight.
Her eyes flipped open as the scent moved closer, and she flared her nostrils in an attempt to
pinpoint the source of that delicious smell.
Elena stood in front of her desk, the midnight-haired male from the dorm standing slightly
behind her.

“Hey, Nia. Mind if we sit here?” Elena was the only one who shortened Nightmare‟s name to
less of a mouthful. Everyone else was too scared.

“No, of course not. Free country.” Elena smiled at her friend‟s offhand tone, knowing that
she was secretly pleased to have some company, and she waved Dagan to the desk one over
from Nia‟s.

Nightmare realised the source of that mouth watering scent when Raphael moved to take the
desk in front of hers. The Archangels frequently sat in on lessons, just to make sure everyone
was coping. It could be quite stressful being in a room full of predators if you were a healer,
it could be hard sitting in a room full of prey if you were a warrior.
The Archangel smelled so delicious that her canines elongated and saliva rushed into her
mouth. She only realised that she had been steadily crawling over the desk towards him when
Elena grabbed her shoulder and pushed her back, eyes wide at the feral look on her friends
face.

“I‟m sorry.” Nia‟s eyes, cast downwards, traced the wood grains on the desk surface as she
waited for a response. She didn‟t have to wait long.

“It‟s okay. Just….what were you doing? You looked so focused; like that time I came
hunting with you and you went after that deer. It was as if you were hungry and you needed
him. You looked like you wanted to eat him.” That last bit was said in a rushed whisper that
was both worried and slightly amused.

“He smells so good. The moment he walked in… all of me wanted him. My warrior could
taste the wild sweetness of him and smell the fast surging of all that gloriously syrupy blood.
She wanted a taste. I wanted a taste. And I didn‟t care how I got to it as long as I did. I hate
him and yet he triggered every urge and need I‟ve ever had and ones I haven‟t.” She paused
in the midst of her confession. “What‟s going on? Why is he doing this to me?”

Elena didn‟t know what was happening, well, she had an idea but she would never tell Nia
what it was.
The Angelic would freak.
So she just shook her head and tried to reassure her friend that it was just a phase, or maybe
his cologne that was so appetizing. Nia quieted when the Angel teacher entered the room, his
dominant presence silencing the more boisterous students and creating order in the
classroom. Elena turned halfway to hand a spare pen to Dagan, but after that not much
interaction was able to be squeezed into the jam packed lesson.
The teacher was all about catch up from all their home schooled sessions, so most of it was
just looking at what they‟d covered in their English lessons at home. They were given a
reading list, a copy of the first book on said list and comprehension questions to answer. The
class breathed a sigh of relief when the lesson ended and all surged towards the escape route
as soon as was possible.

Nia, Elena and Dagan packed more slowly, having enjoyed the lesson and not so eager to
move onto Maths as everyone else. Nia smiled at Raphael as she passed, lifting her chin
defiantly. She wouldn‟t give him the satisfaction of seeing her cower. It would do him some
good, for her not to fawn over him. His head would deflate a little, she was sure.
She heard his heart stutter.
Jeremiel, the teacher, waved at them as they left.

Crossing the grounds again, towards the fountain this time, Elena chattered happily to both of
her silent bodyguards, looking at them in frustration when they didn‟t answer her thoughts or
questions. She frowned at the strange behaviour and turned to address Dagan directly.

“Have you seen the headmaster? Michael‟s apparently really powerful and really smart,
which certainly makes him a good candidate for the job. You‟ve got to be those things to
handle the kids in this school. He‟ll have a tough job trying to handle Nia though won‟t he?”
She nudged her friend playfully and got a pout and a pose in return. Nightmare‟s mood
seemed to have lifted and she struck poses that were supposed to make her look scary. They
failed.

Dagan‟s husky laugh mingled with Elena‟s soft one and Nightmare‟s melodic giggle to give
a sound that was a thrill to the surrounding senses. Heads turned as they continued to play
around, healers flinching away from the two predators and pitying the prey between them.
The warriors were startled to see and hear their fearless, usually stoic or glaring pack member
having fun.

When the short break ended, they were still wandering through the grounds, talking about
nothing and everything. Elena made things between the other two easier and Nia was able to
relax her guard just a little.
Maths passed slowly, boring the minds of the trainees and turning them to a gooey mass.
History was more exciting and each side was able to get involved, quite a few quarrels tended
to erupt as the students discussed battles and wars with different viewpoints. The healers
tended to think all wars were stupid. The warriors just got very, very excited.
As Nightmare was finishing up her essay, she was tapped on the shoulder by a tall, lean blond
haired warrior she didn‟t know. She turned with an arched brow and got a face full of fist.
Her reaction was quick and lethal. The chair flew across the room and splintered against the
wall with the force of her aggression.
Angelics gasped and scattered, clearing the floor.

“Duuude, bad thing to do!” Another guy drawled.

She had her attacker by the throat and was pounding her fist into his face before he even had
chance to run. Bestial snarls ripped from her throat and his high, pathetic keening turned to
whimpers as he realised she could kill him easily. Her fist stopped inches from his busted
face as the door was thrown open and she was wrapped in that tantalizing scent that had
caused her brain to meltdown in English.

Raphael.

One last punch and she heaved the guy across the room.

“You should assign him to Healer classes from now on. He‟s no warrior.” Her breathing was
regular, she hadn‟t broken a sweat and her voice was calm and controlled. And so very cold.

The Archangel watched her warily, but anger blazed from his green eyes and his body was
sparking viciously.
“Come with me. Now.” Ice dripped from every word and sliced her skin, frostbite occurring
where it touched.

She walked out of the room, kicking the prone body on the floor one last time before she
carried on down the hall. Kian, Lykan and Hunter all stuck their heads out of various doors,
recognising her voice and power. They all grinned at each other as she passed, then retreated
before she could punch them too.

“Nightmare. Stop.” Raphael used his voice to bind her and she stopped dead, snarling as she
strained to move. “You don‟t know where we are going.” He laughed humourlessly.
“My office.” She turned in the opposite direction and headed towards the giant room that
served as his office, the one nearest to the gym.

His power receded and she made her way on her own, aware that he was very close behind
her, and aware that she was in very serious trouble. And it was only her first day. She entered
his office slowly, scanning the room for hidden dangers before pivoting and facing him,
standing prepared to take whatever blows he dealt her.
He closed the door, the latch clicking softly behind him. He didn‟t move from the door, leant
against it, arms folded and waited for her to explain. At least that‟s what she thought he was
doing. But she played this game with her father all the time and each time she made her
father break the silence. He tried to wait, but her need to confess wasn‟t all that strong. She
didn‟t feel guilty.

Raphael waited. He stared into her eyes, willing her to speak, knowing that if he broke the
silence it would undermine his authority. But she wasn‟t talking. She hadn‟t blinked, hadn‟t
moved, and was stood there perfectly still. A true warrior. His eyes flicked to the clock…..an
hour had passed and nothing.
Nightmare zoned out, went into a space that existed outside of Raphael‟s room. In the space
she saw people long gone, knew that they were dead even if she knew none of them.
Belonged there more than she belonged anywhere else. She reached out and felt Raphael‟s
life force. He was stubborn and she realised then that they could be stuck in this stalemate for
a while, forever possibly. The dead swarmed around her, brushing passed her, infusing her
with energy.

She spoke.
He spoke.
The stalemate was broken. For a moment, their minds had been perfectly synchronised and
the silence broken at the same time.

“Was it provoked?”

“He hit me first!”

They laughed in a low rush. But he was still angry and she was annoyed.

“You shouldn‟t have pulverised his face.”

“He hit me for no reason. I was finishing my essay in History and he tapped me on the
shoulder. When I turned, I got a fist in my face. I lost it. I‟d done nothing and this guy broke
my nose. My warrior instincts took over. In my mind, he deserved what he got… Maybe I
went a bit far.” She conceded quietly.

Raphael could understand what she spoke of. It was rare that an Angelic would be so in tune
with their instincts that they took over so violently, but once they became Angels, they had to
have one-on-one lessons to learn how to control them. What Nightmare spoke of…generally
only Angels went through it. He decided to go easy on her. As an Angelic she wouldn‟t have
had an easy time reining her warrior side in. It would have fought to kill the Angelic who had
offended her. But she managed to leave him alive, and walk away. He admired her for that.

“You‟ve got detention for two weeks. You‟re going to help clean the gym towels and clothes,
as well as mopping the gym after every use. That way I can keep an eye on you. Also, you‟re
going to apologise to Dominic -” She sputtered at that “– and he‟s going to serve his
detention mucking out the stables and serving in the cafeteria.” She calmed a little.

“Fine. I don‟t care. Whatever. Are we done?” He nodded and she went to leave. A hand on
her arm stopped her in her tracks and she struggled against his grip, not used to being
manhandled. He softened his grasp but didn‟t let go.

“If you need help, at any time, with anything, you come and find me. I‟ll help you work
through it. You can pulverise me instead.” A grin slipped out and she looked up into his eyes.

“I just might take you up on that offer. Not everyday a girl gets to beat up her teacher.” And
then she left.

Raphael stood silent for a while, still shell-shocked from the impact of those eyes. She‟d
looked him dead in the face and those beautiful orbs had shown her soul. It had reached out
and sucker-punched his own soul with one well placed hit. He grinned.
Sparring with her was going to be fun.

************************

Nia had already missed three quarters of the last lesson and so she skipped it and went to sit
in the library. No one bothered her and she logged on to a computer, curling up in the booth.
YouTube was her first check. Whilst the music played she checked her email and sent
messages to her brothers, who‟d all pestered her for details about the event in History. She
only responded because she didn‟t want them to bother her later.
As the sun left the sky and was replaced by the moon, she logged off and, deciding she had
insomnia, went for a walk in the woods out back. The moon called to her, the prey hid from
her and the wolves wanted her to join them. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she realised
just how close she‟d come to killing Dominic, just how out of sorts she was with the world.
She did the only thing she could think of doing.
She ran.