Immortal City Read Online Free PDF Page A

two small marks below his shoulder blades. The marks were graceful spirals, almost like tattoos that glowed supernaturally. These were his Immortal Marks—the mark of every Angel—which indicated Jacks was not human.
    As he brushed his teeth, Jacks tuned out the stock footage of girls camped out outside his house, screaming for him at events, and running after his custom red Ferrari in the street. This was the biggest week of his life, and he needed to focus. Lola was making his bed when he emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed. He picked up the Calvin Klein jacket, looked at it, and threw it over a chair back. Instead he opted for a vintage-looking—but obviously new—Led Zeppelin T-shirt, J Brand jeans, and Converse. He kept the glasses.
    “Thanks, Lola,” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek, and headed out the door and into the hall.
    The Godspeed mansion was breathtaking. A neoclassical, Italian palazzo–style villa, it contained vaulted ceilings, dramatic marble staircases, and a sleek, modern interior design. The house had been featured in numerous architecture and design magazines over the years, but to Jacks, it was just home. He headed down the stairs, pausing when he reached the bottom to look at the full wall of framed magazine covers that stood across from the landing. They were his covers and went all the way back to when he was little, the boy Angel wonder of the famous Godspeed line. He reread some of the captions, from “SUPER TOT!” and “ANGEL IN WAITING!” in his early years to “HOLY HOTTIE!” and “HALO HUNK!” as he got older. The most recent covers depicted Jackson as a heroic Angel with smoldering eyes and an increasingly unbuttoned shirt, his signature wings often spread just behind him. It suddenly occurred to Jacks that he had grown up on these covers, and the world had watched. Now they would be watching as he took the final step—the step he had been working toward for so long—and became a Guardian Angel.
    Jackson’s entrance into the kitchen went unnoticed by his stepfather, who was scanning a work report on his laptop. Jacks thought he glimpsed the letters HDF on the screen in the report as he passed by to kiss his mother, Kris, who brightened at the sight of her only son.
    “Morning, honey,” she said. Even in her bathrobe, Kris radiated the refined beauty for which she was famous. Before she had children, she’d been one of the most popular Guardians. Now she helped administer the largest Angel charity and was always running from one fund-raising event to another across Angel City. “Ready for your big week?”
    “He better be.” Mark folded his laptop screen down. “He’s been waiting for this his whole life. Haven’t you, son?”
    “Absolutely, Mark,” Jacks said, trying to sound confident.
    “Ready to make that first save?” Mark asked.
    It was a loaded question coming from his stepfather. Mark had been one of the most famous Guardian Angels of all time, and his first save had been brilliant. He had gone on to become one of the most famous and powerful Archangels, though he still handled a few select Protections—in fact, apparently, he’d come home late from one the night before, although Jacks hadn’t seen any media coverage of it yet. Most of Mark’s time, though, was taken up being the lead Archangel in charge of disciplinary issues, making the tough decision when a Guardian should have his wings removed after a failed save, which was a rare but painful ordeal for the Angel community. Gabriel and the entire Council of Twelve had nothing but faith in Jackson’s stepfather, and his achievements were a lot to live up to.
    Jacks’s gaze drifted down to Mark’s Divine Ring. It was the ring worn by every Guardian, a symbol of responsibility and power. It was all Jacks had ever wanted, ever since he could remember, and Mark had been an encouraging—and demanding—taskmaster on the path to getting it. Jacks watched it glint in the sunlight. Then he