Page 61 of Forging Darkness

“AmIall right? Areyouall right? The last time I saw you a Forsaken was ready to bite into your throat like it was a juicy steak. And you . . .” I swivel my head in Steel’s direction, really seeing him now that I’m coming to realize this might not be a dream—or at least not an ordinary one. Just like the rest of my friends, he looks tired, but he’s alive and uninjured. Either this dream-state doesn’t allow me to see his injuries, or he’s already healed from them.

I feel Steel’s gaze like a cool brush of air as it passes over me from head to toe and back up again. My heart starts to thump faster.

“Yes, we’re fine.” Ash’s voice snaps me out of my Steel-trance. “Silver held to her word and pulled back her Forsaken thugs after they knocked you out. We tried to give chase, but they left their injured behind so they could move quickly.” Regret shines in her eyes, and I squeeze her hands.

“It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re all okay.”

With a wobbly smile, she yanks me around so she’s facing the group. “You guys, can you believe . . .” Her words trail off mid-sentence when she eyes Nova, Greyson, and Sterling, all still in their own bubbles of unawareness. “What’s going on?”

“That’s what I was trying to figure out,” Steel says. “You were like them until Emberly touched you. I think she pulled us all here.”

Ash’s surprised gaze turns back to me. “Really?”

“I have no idea,” I answer. “I’m just as confused as you two are. Is dream communication a Nephilim power?”

Ash shakes her head. “Not that I know of. But one of the primary functions of angels has always been to act as messengers. Perhaps one of your ancestors had the ability to dreamscape or dreamwalk or dream telecommunicate—whatever you want to call it. If you’re in control of this, Emberly, that’s probably why your touch made me aware of your presence. Try it with one of them.”

“Here goes nothing.” Standing in front of Greyson with Ash and Steel at my back, I pinch his arm.

“Ow,” he says, and then rubs his arm. His eyes grow wide as his gaze tracks up my body.

“I didn’t pinch you that hard.”

“Oh my gosh, you’re okay!”

I’m tackled in another hug. The moment Greyson releases me, Steel tugs me back, widening the gap between us. Craning my neck, I shoot him a what-the-heck look. His eyes are fixed on his brother though, so he misses it.

Greyson cocks an eyebrow in response. “I told you you needed to phase and let that pent up aggression out.” Making a big show of it, Greyson shoves his hands in his jean pockets. “I assume this isn’t really a dream.”

“We don’t think so,” Ash says as I move on to wake up Nova.

Nova keeps her cool when I brush my fingers over her shoulder and give her a gentle shake. “Wicked cool,” are the first words out of her mouth. “Glad to see you’re still alive.”

We all turn to Sterling after catching Nova up.

“Do we really have to wake him?” Ash asks with a chuckle. “I’m enjoying this too much.”

Sterling seems to be having a debate with . . . himself? His hands fly through the air, punctuating whatever point he’s making. I’m not entirely sure whether he’s winning or losing the conversation, but he’s definitely all-in.

I position my hands on either side of Sterling’s face and bend over so we are eye to eye. When my palms meet his cheeks I say, “Boo!” right as Sterling’s eyes begin to focus on me. With a yelp, he tips back in his seat and tumbles to the floor with a crash.

“Sorry. Couldn’t help it.” The grin on my face probably isn’t convincing.

He looks over each of us from his angled position on the floor. “What’s happening?”

“We’re all dead,” Greyson answers with a straight face. “This,” he swings his arm in an arc to indicate the classroom, “is our afterlife. We’re not allowed to move on to a better place until you actually pass a class. Which means we’re all doomed.”

“Grey,” Steel groans.

“Couldn’t help it. Check out his face.”

“You suck,” Sterling shoots at his twin as he lumbers to his feet.

Ash takes a moment to explain what’s happening and our only working theory that I might have somehow pulled everyone into a dream together. Sterling takes another look at our surroundings.

“A classroom at the academy?” he says. “Couldn’t you have dreamed us somewhere tropical instead? Preferably with a beach and a bunch of bikini-clad women.”

“And that’s why we woke you up last,” I reply.

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