Conspiracy Boy (Angel Academy) by Cecily White Page A

and tugged it off my neck. The thing glared up at me from the center of my palm, silver-green and innocuous-looking. Ugh, I didn’t think I’d ever adapt to the fuzzed-out feeling of brain invasion.
    “Your coat.” Tyrannus held out something that looked like a string of dead raccoons.
    Vaguely grossed out, I slid it on and flipped up the faux-fur collar. At least, I assumed it was faux. The last time Luc tried to give me a real fur, I’d promptly passed it on to the nearest homeless shelter. Whether they’d sold it or gave it to a pimp, I didn’t know.
    It took us a few minutes to get through the glut of people at the gates. Pale sunlight filtered through a line of bare magnolia trees, leaving me with a massive migraine. Up ahead, white gingerbread molding edged the St. Michael’s entryway, Corinthian columns lining the front porch. In the literally dozen years I’d been here, my school had always reminded me of a wedding cake. Add the cotton candy sunrise and the sprinkle of powdered-sugar snow everywhere, and the resemblance was downright pastry-like.
    The smell of magic burned in the air, along with a comforting scent of paper and old ink. Around the main building, a set of wards crackled, setting my fingers atingle and making my skin sting. They felt weird today. Less bendy than usual.
    By the time we reached the lockers, I’d convinced myself that everything was fine. I mean, anyone would feel a little wonky after being attacked and dragged through a Crossworlds portal without their Watcher, right?
    It wasn’t until we crossed under the interior wards to the classroom that a hot sizzle of power burned over my skin. “ Yow, what gives?”
    “What is it?” Tyrannus asked.
    “The wards,” I yelped, slapping at my skin like I could calm the imaginary flames. “They’re crazy today.”
    “Security update, perhaps?”
    Security—courtesy of Lori Hansen, our Advanced Wards instructor, who now covered Human Politics, too. As if she knew anything about humans. That woman was about as human as I was a toadstool. Maybe less, since at least toadstools aren’t pure evil.
    Honestly, if she’d been anyone besides Jack’s homicidal high school ex-girlfriend, the diligence might not have bothered me. I might have admired it, even. Now that the school’s wards had to accommodate Immortals, vampires, and were-creatures as well as the usual Guardians, the administration had been forced to get creative. Still, it wouldn’t have surprised me if Hansen’s version of “creative” meant the wards were drawn in the collective blood of the student body.
    “Yo, Bennett! You missed homeroom,” Ty Webster called out as I hustled through the doorway. “Get arrested again?”
    “Not this week.”
    “Too bad. Handcuffs suit you.” He leaned back in his desk chair, cocky grin at his lips. I flipped him a quick unladylike gesture and kept moving.
    Veronica Manning, self-appointed queen of the known universe, scooted out of her seat to greet me. Stunning how fast cheerleaders can move.
    “We thought you’d never get here.” Queen Vee dug her nails into my elbow and hoisted me down the aisle to a spot in the back where her minions clustered. “See? We saved you a seat.”
    “Does this involve me getting a latte?” I inquired uselessly.
    Veronica and I had never been especially close. Which is a bit like saying vultures and squirrels aren’t besties. However, now that I’d been deemed both super-powerful and noncompetitive for Watcher pref lists, she’d apparently decided I was worthy of something besides peer torment. Lucky me.
    I smiled benevolently at the girls clustered where Veronica plopped me.
    “Hi, Ami.” Skye Benedict waved a perfunctory hello as my former BFF, Katie Shaw, swiveled toward her desk and started scribbling notes in silence.
    And there’s high school for you. Before last fall, Katie would have been the one person I’d expect friendship from. Now she was the first one to hang me out to