Scott Speer - Immortal City

A bell rang in the kitchen. An order was up.

“Because I’ve spoken to the Archangels,” Jacks said softly. “And they’ve asked me to tell you that your training starts on Monday.”

He wasn’t joking anymore. His gaze searched hers intently.

“Training?” Maddy said. “Training for what?”

Jacks smiled at her.

“Training to become a Guardian Angel.”

Maddy reached the top of the stairs, went into the bathroom, and shut the door. She had been waiting for this all day. After Jacks’s visit and his unexpected news, she hadn’t even had time to process what he was telling her because the diner was so busy. By the time they closed, she had been on her feet for almost eight hours and smelled like sweat, food, and who knows what. She had been looking forward to a shower all day — and to thinking about what Jacks had told her.

Maddy peeled unceremoniously out of her uniform and threw it on the bathroom floor. She turned on the hot water first and waited until it scalded her hand to add the cold. When the temperature was just right, she pulled the plunger on the faucet and the shower coughed to life.

The hot water burned wonderfully against her skin.

Maddy let out a sigh as she washed away the shift at the diner. She inspected her bumps and bruises. There were still some remnants of the rooftop incident to be sure, and she was still tender in places, but she felt almost well. Maddy let herself stay a full ten minutes, a luxury she rarely afforded herself. She still wasn’t fully ready to confront the decision that lay before her.

When she was finished, she stepped out onto the old bath mat and wrapped a towel around herself.

Steam had fogged the mirror around its edges, but a circular porthole of reflection in the middle had remained somewhat clear. Maddy toweled off her body, then her hair.

She turned around and looked over her shoulder at the mirror to check how bad one of the bruises on her back was.

Water droplets patted noisily against the bath mat as she stood there, frozen in place.

Under her shoulder blades, the angry bruise that had formed as a result of smashing into the light pole had faded — or simply evolved — into the beginning of what could only be described as marks . They looked like graceful tattoos that ran parallel to her spine and came to rest in two elegant flourishes at the small of her back. They were simpler than others Maddy had seen, but all the same, they were unmistakable. She watched them shimmer in the fluorescent light of the bathroom.

They were Immortal Marks.

This book would not have been possible without the enthusiasm and belief of a select group of people. My mother and father, first of all, thank you for teaching me to believe in myself and to believe in the power of imagination. Mom, thank you for teaching me to believe in magic. I cannot imagine two people more brilliant and capable of being great parents, and in that way, I am absurdly lucky. My sister, Julia, whom I love very much and who has always been patient with me.

Simon, my agent, who has championed and believed in me from the beginning. Thank you, brother, for reading a fifty-page draft full of typos and seeing something special.

Claudia, my book agent, who decided to take on a music-video director with no writing experience and muscle through countless drafts and revisions. Brian, you know how instrumental you have been, and without you, none of this would have been possible.

Alicia, another key cheerleader who decided to stand up and back the project. Without your enthusiasm, the book would still be unfinished.

Ashley, for your love, faith, and support, for early morning coffees, and for all those fashion ideas. No project is accomplished without the support of great friends, friends like Lucas, Steve, Michael, and Brandon — thank you all for reading drafts and giving your feedback and notes. Finally, my editor, Laura, whose unrelenting passion for the book has seen it through its final transformation. Laura, you made the decision to invest yourself in a dream I had about celebrity Angels two years ago, and for that, I am forever grateful.