Beloved Purgatory (Fallen Angels, Book 2) (6 page)

My temples pounded from grinding my teeth. I
didn't like anyone talking to Jasmine that way. "She knew because I
told her," I said.

"Stop," Jasmine warned.

I refused to listen. Oz had
reassured me everything would be fine. However, if he thought I'd
accept this as
fine
, he was even more deluded than I'd thought.

James father scowled. "So the two of you
were involved?"

"No. Just me. James did a rotten thing to
Kim, and I wanted him to own up to it. Kim didn't do anything,
though." I turned to my friend. "Right?"

Kim hid her face in her hands. Her mother
rubbed her shoulder, murmuring something in Vietnamese. It sounded
like an apology.

"Devi." Jasmine's voice sounded somewhat
threatening. If I didn't love her so much, then I would have backed
down. Her green eyes narrowed, and I glared right back.

"This isn't how you make friends," I
said.

The air was still for a moment after those
words, save for James' father's heavy panting, and Kim's muffled
sobs.

The principal groaned. His chair creaked as
he leaned back, and for a moment he looked longingly at the parking
lot. I guess this wasn't a very good day for him, either. "Devi and
Jasmine, do you take full responsibility?"

Before I could answer, white light began to
grow in the corner of the room. The darkness broke apart, scurrying
behind the bookcases and door like frightened shadow puppets made
by children's hands.

I should have hidden, too.
There was nothing for me in that light, and no compassion in that
sacrosanct man's eyes. But it called to my blood like the haunting
wail of a siren. I, too, would dive into the sea and accept certain
death for a second glimpse of that beauty, even though I hated
it--perhaps
especially
because I did.

I felt myself rise from my seat and step
forward into that heatless, shimmering fire.

The angel didn't try to touch me. He'd
learned that much, at least. "Devi, I know you feel responsible,
but you don't have to do this. Azazel will be fine."

I tried to mirror the angel's dead gaze.
"Responsibility?"

The angel took a step back. I almost did,
too. Nothing I'd done had ever elicited such an obvious response
from him.

"Devi," Jasmine called quietly from across
the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Forneus' bony
fingers wrap around her wrist.

I ignored it. This wasn't about them, but
about me and the angel. 'My' angel. I gasped and pressed my palms
to my eyes. "What do you know of responsibility? You always do as
you're told. You don't know anything of love or friendship, or
trying to protect someone when you can't..."

I grabbed his shirt and fell forward into
his chest, too tired to beat my fists against him. Not that it
would have mattered. Nothing you did to this creature mattered.
"All you do is steal things--even if it's the thing they love most,
you'll take it--and when you do it your face doesn't even change.
You don't feel anything for anyone--not the people you hurt, and
not the people who love them."

Something pressed into my shoulders. I looked
down to see two caramel colored arms wrapping around my stomach.
Jasmine, I thought, warmth flowing through me as her fingers
entwined.

"Devi," Jasmine pleaded into the center of
my back, but I did not turn. Nothing--not even the one I
loved--could prevent me from looking at those calm, indigo
eyes.

"I hate you so much," I whispered, "and it
doesn't even matter, because you don't care."

His body flickered, as if a thousand
butterflies made of light had landed on his skin. Then, he started
to fade. The last image I saw of him was his lips, parting as if to
whisper something before he disappeared.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to
the dim light. I was still in the principal's office--I could see
Kim's wide, fearful eyes, my mother's bloodless face, and the
redness of James' father's countenance, too shocked to appear
indignant.

No.
My stomach turned. They probably thought I'd been speaking
about James.

In fact, even James thought I'd been talking
about James. He wiped his eyes and pulled the hat even further over
his face. "I do care," he whispered.

What could I say?
No, James, I wasn't talking to you, but the angel
in the room--you know, the one
only
I
can see
.

James' shuddered. "And I just--Kim, I'm
sorry."

Kim's cheeks flushed. Mine almost did, too.
James' voice was raspy to the point of sounding as though he could
scarcely breathe.

I swallowed.
"Look, I was a little harsh."

He exhaled deeply, or perhaps sobbed. "No,
you were right." He rested his open palms on his knees and watched
them, as if he expected something to change.

Jasmine led me back to my seat. At least no
one would dare doubt my involvement, now--the principal especially.
There could only be two explanations for the way he kept looking at
me: either he thought I had a pack of pads under my shirt and was
afraid I'd exact revenge on his desk, or that I was suffering from
PMS.

"Ms. Lai," the principal began softly, "I
think it would be best if you and your daughter left."

"Do you really think that's wise?" James'
father piped.

James put his hand on his dad's shoulder.
When he tilted his head back, I caught a glimpse of the red, puffy
eyes he'd hid under his cap. "Kim wouldn't do something like
that."

Inappropriate laughter bubbled up in my
throat as I remembered Kim dancing on the hood of his car,
squirting Siracha like it was a hose. Thankfully, I was able to
push it back down.

Kim stood. She didn't look back at me when
she walked out the door--not even once. But she did look at
James.

Once the door closed behind
them, Forneus leaned forward. "Now that Devi and Jasmine have
assumed responsibility for the event, we should discuss
their
punishment
."
His eyes gleamed as he orgasmed that last word. Yuck.

Jasmine squeezed my hand. "It's going to be
alright," she whispered.

James pulled his cap over his face, again.
His dad patted him on the back. It reminded me of how a father
might comfort his son if he struck out on the last inning of a
little league game.

Principal Lowell coughed and folded his
hands on the desk. "There was no physical damage to the car,
though, according to James' father, it did take a long time to
remove the items." He looked at the floor between the two parties.
"I've considered the possibility of suspension. Two weeks seems
sufficient. And Devi and Jasmine would be unable to attend the
upcoming dance."

My ears perked up. Not going to school for
two weeks? Getting barred from a dance I had no desire to attend in
the first place? That didn't seem so bad. Actually, it seemed kind
of wonderful.

My mother wrinkled her brows as if I'd been
cast off to a leper colony. "Devi, are you alright with this?"

Don't give yourself
away,
I demanded as I gripped my jeans.
James' father was giving me the smuggest 'take that' smile I'd ever
seen. I didn't have the heart to ruin this moment for him--and,
more importantly, I didn't want him to think up a better
punishment.

I raised my brows and did my best to give
the floor a forlorn look. It was a little over the top, but if
everyone else was so melodramatic I guess I could be, too. "I will
just have to live with it," I whispered and clutched Jasmine's
shoulder.

"Devi." Jasmine pressed her
lips to the top of my head. The chilling sound of her voice
vibrated through me. I turned
my head so I
could see her face.

Those clear, green eyes didn't quite meet
mine, and her hand tightened on my sleeve. I leaned into her again
and placed my hand over hers. Her skin was so clammy, and she was
shaking.

Stop, it's okay,
I mouthed. A suspension wouldn't keep her from
getting into Princeton, right?

She frowned. Either she didn't understand my
message, or my delivery sucked. Probably the latter.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Forneus'
lip twitch. I guess he wasn't won over by my performance. "This
didn't happen on school property, correct?"

"No," the principal replied.

"And not during school hours, either?"

The principal looked over at James' father.
"It didn't appear that way," the dad said.

"I agree that the two should
be
punished
,"
Forneus flashed his teeth and paused dramatically. What was up with
him and the word 'punishment'? Did he have to be so obvious and
disgusting?

The principal gulped and gripped his hands
together. At least I wasn't the only one unsettled by Forneus'
tone.

"However," Forneus continued as if there'd
been no awkward pause, "I think that suspension is a bit harsh for
such a childish prank."

"No it's not," I squeaked.

All the eyes in the room were on me. They
felt like ants crawling over my skin. I hated this. My throat
closed up. I couldn't think. "I mean, I did the deed," I choked
out.

The principal frowned. "You did what?"

Forneus snickered and rolled his wrist,
beckoning me to continue.

I glared at the devil. "I did..." Wait, I
couldn't say 'deed' again. That's what Forneus wanted me to do. "I,
uh, defiled his car," I spurted out.

The crease between the principal's brows
deepened. He opened his lips as if to say something--then, I guess,
thought better of it, and decided to ignore me. "If no one has
anything to else add, I think we should--"

"I'd like to say something." Forneus' voice
slithered from the back of the room. He looked at the remaining
mothers, Jasmine, and then gave me a wink. "Girls, just let me
handle this."

Girls? Could he possibly be more
condescending? Who would let that chauvinist pig decide
anything?

But then, none of the
'girls' chewed him out. James mother crossed her legs even tighter,
and my mother's hand flew to her blouse.
Please don't pop open another button,
I begged.

Jasmine's caramel hand crept up my thigh. My
heartbeat hammered when she gave my knee a slight squeeze. "Don't
worry," she whispered.

It felt like her fingers
were clamped around my throat instead of my leg. I wanted to grab
her shoulders and scream:
Why are you
trusting Forneus? Why is everyone acting insane?

Jasmine rested her cheek on my shoulder as
Forneus continued. "My 'little brat' is remarkably impressionable
and naive. On top of this, my ward has never been in a school
environment before, and is desperate for love and attention.
Obviously, this little stunt was an attempt to gain both. As for
Devi..." He allowed his voice to trail off as he ran one of his
purple, immaculate nails over his bottom lip. "She is impulsive,
manipulative, and resentful because she cannot see a place for
herself in society."

His words ripped through me. My hands balled
into fists at my sides. A screech filled the room as my chair skid
back to the wall. "What are you talking about? I don't want to
manipulate or hurt anybody!"

I saw a blur of purple as Forneus' fingers
left his lips. "You've done a good job of manipulating my ward,
regardless of whether it was conscious or not."

His pupils dilated. My extremities tingled.
It felt like he was a lepidopterist, and I was the insect being
spread open and pinned in place for display.

Jasmine's grip on my knee grew tighter. I
couldn't look at her, though. She was angry with Forneus, but she
should have reserved those feelings for me. His hurtful words were
true, no matter how much I hated them, because Forneus couldn't
lie.

"That's enough." My mom's whisper sliced
through the room, and for a moment there was no sound but the one
that escaped from her heaving chest. "Don't say those things about
my daughter. She isn't cruel. She's lonely, I think. And she
doesn't have anyone to talk to."

She sounded strained when she spoke the last
sentence, as if she were bracing herself from some unseen,
self-inflicted wound. I did feel cruel, then, for pushing her away
after disappearing. I wanted her to feel like someone I could talk
to, but what could I say?

Forneus put his hand on my
mother's shoulder. She didn't flinch. "You see," he began softly,
"that is precisely my point. Devi needs to talk with someone who
can offer her guidance and support. Neither
child
has been properly socialized,
which is why I believe that removing them from school and
extracurricular activities will do a disservice to their
intellectual and social development."

"What do you suggest, then?" The principal
asked.

The dull thud of my heartbeat echoed in my
ears. I had no idea where this was going, but I didn't like it. And
when Forneus turned his cheek to give me an intimate smile, I
realized I had every reason not to.

"I think they should have individual
meetings with a counselor once a week for the rest of the school
year."

Forneus' words hit me like a
slap in the face.
No. He did not just say
that. He doesn't understand what he's saying.

But he did understand. This
was Forneus. He wanted to
punish
me with flair, and he'd somehow discovered that
the best way to do just that would be sending me to the school
guidance counselor, Mr. Brown.