9

Rocks rained down with me as I fell into the abyss. They were on fire, burning down to the ground like falling stars. A brilliant white light caught my eye, and I turned. My hair. It was rippling in the wind, shining like a beacon of light in the darkness of night. I waited for it to do something more than shine, something magical, something that would save me. After a few moments, the glow on my hair faded out, and I faded into darkness. My hair wasn’t going to do anything. It couldn’t do anything.

“Nero,” I whispered.

Leda.

“I wish we’d had the chance to finish our date.”

We will.

A blinding light, a thousand times brighter than the weak glow of my hair, flooded the expanse. The darkness melted away. Black blotches floated in the air in front of my face, suspended in time.

A winged silhouette dove down, displacing the floating rocks. Arms folded around me. I looked up into Nero’s face.

“I’ve got you, Leda.” His voice shook with naked vulnerability.

I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the searing light. He was carrying me up. Either I was already dead, or Nero had just saved my life. Based on the throbbing pain from five distinct locations across my body, I was guessing the latter.

“Oh, thank goodness,” I said. “I did not want to die down there surrounded by those vine monsters.”

“Neither did I. Want you to die,” Nero added quickly. He was uncharacteristically flustered. It was adorable.

“Yes, I figured that out when you swooped in heroically to rescue me. How did you do that trick with the rocks?”

“Telekinesis.”

“You mean inverse telekinesis,” I said.

“Inverse telekinesis?”

“Telekinesis is moving objects with your mind. Inverse telekinesis is making them stand still.”

He stared at me for a moment, then declared, “You just made that up.”

“I did not. It’s a thing. And you just did it. Case in point.”

“That’s circular logic.”

“No, it’s not. It’s very un-circular logic.”

“You can’t just assign your own names to things that already have names.”

“Of course I can.” I smirked at him. “Don’t you know me at all?”

“You’re throwing the entire world order into chaos.”

“And that’s different from what I normally do exactly how?”

“You make a valid point,” he said as we landed. Rocks littered the ground where the black ice had once been.

“What happened up here?”

“The smoke-and-stone monster broke free of my spell and knocked you over the edge. Then it floated up and turned to stone. I broke through it.”

“Wow.” I looked around at the rocks. They covered everything. Neo hadn’t just broken through; he’d broken the whole monster. “You must have hit it hard.”

“I was motivated.”

Eleven pairs of eyes were watching us.

“Where are Captain Somerset and Valiant?” I asked Nero.

“Captain Somerset carried Valiant ahead to the truck because he was passing out from the pain.”

I hoped Captain Somerset didn’t make good on Nero’s threat to tie Valiant to the roof of our truck. Sure, he had just nearly gotten us all killed, but there was no reason to return the favor. Besides, we had the same goal. We all wanted to keep the angel-killing weapon safe.

“Nero. Maybe you should put me down,” I whispered since everyone was still staring at us.

“Why?”

“Everyone is staring at us.”

His arms held me in a protective embrace. “I’m not putting you down, Leda.”

Nero backtracked our path out of the city. The others followed, not saying a word.

“They are oddly silent,” I commented to Nero.

“Shh. I’m appreciating the silence. Usually, it’s impossible to shut them up. Especially you.”

“Hey, you should be nice to me in my frail state.”

He arched his brows. “I’m carrying you, aren’t I?”

“I thought you just wanted to cuddle.”

We passed the next few minutes in silence.

“What do you think of my two Pilgrims?” I asked Nero.

“Your Pilgrims.”

“Yes, my Pilgrims. I had them compelled for a solid two minutes.” I turned my hand to show him two fingers but dropped it, wincing from the pain.

“Try not to move,” he said. “Your injuries aren’t life-threatening, so I haven’t healed them. There’s no time for that now. We need to make getting out of here fast a priority. Before any more monsters come.”

Now that the high of surviving that fall was wearing off, the pain was returning with a vengeance. The broken ribs didn’t hurt as much as the bump I’d gotten on my head when the fog beast had tossed me onto the black ice.

“It hurts,” I admitted.

“But you’re tough.”

“You bet your ass I am.” I cracked a smile, which hurt as much as moving my hand had.

He sighed. “I told you not to move. For once, could you just follow orders?”

“Well, you know me.” I kept smiling. It hurt, but it was worth it to see the frustration—and more so, the admiration—in his eyes. He might have been annoyed with me for not listening, but he respected my strength for toughing out the pain.

“I know what you’re thinking. And what you’re feeling.”

I realized I wasn’t blocking him from my mind—and that I didn’t have the strength to do it now anyway.

“Anyone else would be screaming in agony at that pain you’re feeling,” he said, his tone reverent.

“If you can read my thoughts, then you know I’m screaming inside.”

“Yes, and I’m very impressed by your creative use of such colorful language. I’ve never heard anyone swear so well.”

I grinned through the pain. “I aim to please.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

“Ok, maybe not.” I winced. The pain was growing stronger.

“We’re almost there.” He glided along, moving so smoothly, not jostling me at all.

I rested my head on Nero’s shoulder. The two Pilgrims were walking behind us at a limping gait. Every so often, one of them stole a quick glance up at me.

“Are you all right?” I asked them over Nero’s shoulder.

“Our injuries are far less severe than our crime of acting against Colonel Windstriker’s orders,” one of them said, dipping his chin.

“We await his punishment,” said the other.

Nero looked back at him, shaking his head with slow disapproval. But he didn’t speak threats, not even to repeat his promise to tie them to the top of the trucks. All he said was, “I am in command of this mission, not Valiant. Not you.”

And it was enough. They nodded, lowering their eyes in shame.

“Wow, that was lenient,” I whispered to him.

Nero said nothing. I looked back at the Pilgrims again. They quickly averted their eyes from mine.

“What’s up with them?” I asked Nero. “Why are they afraid to look at me?”

“Because I went after you back there in the ruins. The fight wasn’t over, the monsters weren’t neutralized, the Pilgrims weren’t safe—and I went after you.”

I’d been so glad to be alive that I hadn’t realized what his actions meant. His mission was to protect the Pilgrims, and he’d instead dove into that chasm to save me. The Pilgrims could have died. He’d broadcast to everyone there that saving me was more important than saving them. That was why the Pilgrims were looking at me differently. Anyone important to an angel was important to them.

We’d reached the truck. Nero set me down in the backseat.

“Try not to move during the drive back,” he said, putting a small bottle into my hands.

“A healing potion?”

“Yes, one of my own invention,” he said. “Take it. I don’t have enough magic to heal you gently, and I will need all the magic I have for the drive back. Too many of you are injured. You won’t be able to take out all the monsters alone. And the potion will help with your pain.”

“I thought what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger,” I teased.

“I don’t want you to be in pain, Leda.” He kissed my forehead. “Stay safe.”

Then he shot into the air, a determined gleam in his eyes. He was preparing to clear our path of monsters.

Captain Somerset got into the car. When she looked back at me, I saw a very different expression than the one the Pilgrims had given me. It was a look that warned me I’d gotten in the way of Nero doing his job—and that there would be consequences.

* * *

I fell asleep during the drive back. Whatever was in that potion Nero had given me, it had not only dulled my pain, it also knocked me right out. The next thing I knew, I was back in New York, blinking up at the ceiling from one of the beds in the medical ward.

I looked around. I wasn’t the only one here. In fact, the medical ward was busier than I’d ever seen it. In addition to my wounded team mates, there were another two dozen soldiers warming the beds in here tonight.

“How are you feeling?”

I turned at the sound of Nero’s voice. He was sitting beside my bed, and when I looked at him, he took my hand.

“Fine.” I rubbed my head.

His eyes traced my body, cataloging the cuts and bruises. “You aren’t lying to me, are you?”

“I thought you liked your soldiers to be tough.”

“Yes, but I want you to be healed. And for that, I need you to be honest about your injuries.”

“My hands feel like they’ve had an unfortunate encounter with an angry sandpaper monster, my head feels like it’s going to explode, and from where I am, there appear to be two of you sitting next to my bed. And I’m not sure how I feel about that. On the one hand, I’m glad you care enough to stay, but on the other, I’m not sure I have the energy to talk to one of you right now, let alone two of you.”

Nero sat there in silence.

“You wanted me to be honest.”

“Indeed.” He set his hand over my ribs. A warmth flashed through me, driving out the pain.

“What was in that potion you gave me before?”

“As I told you, something to help you sleep. Its healing effects were minimal. I wanted to heal you like this.”

“Why?”

Before he could answer, Dr. Hallows stopped beside my bed.

“Colonel,” she said. “We need to look at her injuries.”

“I’m taking care of it.”

“If you would—”

“I said I’m taking care of it,” he said coldly. “Now go check on Valiant. He seems to be on the verge of another panic attack.”

Dr. Hallows looked from the cold fire in Nero’s eyes, to the warm glow of his healing hand, to the soft touch of his other hand holding mine. Though he sat there perfectly still, I could sense the tension in his body. Everything about him was broadcasting danger, telling everyone to stay back because he was on a short fuse right now. The doctor turned, hurrying toward Valiant, who was screaming about hooded thieves and man-eating plants.

“Will he be all right?” I asked Nero.

“With time.”

“Will you be all right?”

“I am perfectly fine.”

“No, you’re not. You’re wound up more tightly than I’ve ever seen you.”

“It’s been a long day.” He gave me a small smile. “I’m fine.”

“Nero—”

“I said I’m fine,” he said, his voice a low growl. He took a deep breath, then lifted the hand from my ribs. “How do you feel?”

“All healed,” I said.

“Leda, stop watching me like I’m going to explode at any moment.”

“Then stop looking like you’re going to explode at any moment,” I countered.

“After your experience, I expected at least a short respite from your insubordination.”

“Then you expected wrong,” I replied, smirking.

He handed me a bar of chocolate, and my mind flitted back to those two dead cowboy gangsters hanging from the temple chimney, swinging in the wind.

Nero has it bad for you. I thought a little fun could cure him, but it seems he only wants one cure. You. And now he’s stringing up dead criminals to let you know. Why couldn’t he have gone with chocolate?

Because he’s an angel, that’s why. And you know chocolate isn’t the same. Not at all.

Chocolate is less complicated.

“What’s this?” I asked Nero.

“It’s chocolate. I thought you’d recognize it,” he replied, a hint of irreverence in his voice.

“I meant, why are you giving me chocolate?”

“Your body just healed some very substantial injuries. Chocolate is one of the best substances on Earth for replenishing your magic and energy.”

“Oh, good. That gives me yet another reason to love chocolate.”

Nero’s eyes darted to the door. A man in a bright white tunic stepped inside the room and headed right for us.

“Expecting trouble?” I asked Nero.

“Always.”

The man stopped in front of Nero. “Colonel Windstriker, I have a message for you from the First Angel.” He handed Nero the envelope, then left.

Nero turned the envelope over in his hand once before opening it. His eyes panned down the page. Then he folded it back into the envelope and looked at me.

“Nyx wishes to speak to us,” he said.

“Both of us?”

“Yes.”

“Good news or bad news?”

“The First Angel is not in the habit of spoiling the dramatic impact by dropping hints.”

“Of course not.”

“How are you feeling now?” he asked.

“Almost human again.”

“You aren’t human anymore. Not entirely,” he reminded me.

“It was just an expression.”

My head had stopped spinning. I wiggled my fingers and toes. When none of them screamed out in pain, I eased slowly off the bed.

“All good. Now I just need someone to find my clothes. I don’t think the First Angel is expecting me in a hospital gown.”

* * *

When we got to Nyx’s office, the door was closed, so we waited outside. There were no chairs. Apparently, soldiers of the Legion didn’t need chairs. They sure would have been a nice touch, though. The minutes ticked by, and all the while Nero stared at me, his eyes hard with guilt.

“Do you regret saving me?” I asked him quietly.

“No,” was his immediate response.

“But you still feel guilty about it.”

“Yes.”

“I would have done the same for you,” I told him.

“Leda, you shouldn’t say such things here. We don’t know who’s listening.”

The door to Nyx’s office opened, and a man with cropped blond hair stepped out, dressed in the black leather uniform of the Legion of Angels. He was frozen in time at age twenty, that same physical age so many of the Legion soldiers were. His eyes were older, though. Much older. Clear blue, as bright as a cloudless day, they had a hard, cynical edge to them, especially as they cut right to me and Nero standing across the hall.

As he turned, I caught my first glimpse at the symbol on his uniform. He was a colonel, level nine just like Nero. An angel. He was a tad shorter than Nero, but wider, built like a bodybuilder. He had an iron jaw, and looking at him, I knew it would hurt like hell to punch him.

The two angels looked at each other with professional disdain, as though they’d hated each other for so long that it was routine, another part of the day like brushing their teeth or waking up before dawn. The angel’s eyebrows, so light that they blended into his tanned skin, arched, and he shot Nero a smug look.

He had numerous swords and knives strapped to his body, and a high-tech bow on his back, one that looked like it could shoot right through those hard-scaled snap dragons we’d fought earlier. But the weapons were mostly for show. He looked like he tore the heads off of monsters for sport, preferably with his bare hands—or with his teeth.

My eyes shifted to the name on his uniform: Colonel Fireswift. So this was Jace’s father. They certainly did look a lot alike, the father a meaner and more powerful version of the son. I bet his wing feathers were blood red. This was a man who had risen from the ashes of pain—his own suffering as much as that of others. And he’d pulled himself up on his own, triumphant. So this was what Colonel Fireswift wanted to mold his son into.

After a final farewell sneer, Colonel Fireswift turned and walked down the hall. We crossed the room to enter Nyx’s office. She stood at the center of the room, poised and regal. Her black leather bodysuit fitted perfectly to her slender form, and her high-heeled boots only added to her already impressive height. Her hair, braided and pinned to her head, was as black as her glossy bodysuit, and her eyes were as blue as the ocean.

A full vase of Angel’s Breath flowers sat on her massive wood desk, bringing in a touch of spring on this cold day. Snow fell freely beyond the windows, the thick flakes fluttering in the winter wind. Just a few hours ago, I’d been sweating in the scorching heat of the Black Plains, and now I was here, watching snow fall.

Nero and I bowed before the First Angel.

She let us stay like that for a moment, then said, “Rise, Corporal Pierce.”

I looked at her in surprise. Nero was an angel. He should have been asked to rise before me.

“Come on, my dear, don’t keep me waiting.”

I rose out of my bow. Nyx looked down upon Nero for a few more moments, then she lifted her hands in the air.

“All right, Colonel. Stand up.” Nyx sighed. “Let’s get this over with.”

Nero watched her, his face blank.

“Your mission was to protect the Pilgrims during their pilgrimage to the Lost City. Why the blazes did you leave them unprotected?”

“They stole a truck and drove out onto the Black Plains at night, against Nero’s explicit commands,” I told her.

She held up her index finger, which I was surprised to see tipped with pink fingernail polish. “I’ll get to you in a moment.” Her gaze slid to Nero. “Under the city, you were attacked by monsters. During the fight, you went diving into a chasm, leaving the Pilgrims unprotected.”

Technically, there had been ten Legion soldiers with them. And Nero had blasted apart the last monster before diving into the chasm. Nyx held up her hand, cutting me off before I could point that out, like she’d been reading my thoughts. Damn angels.

“Well, Colonel?” she said. I wondered if she could read his thoughts too. “Why did you leave three valuable Pilgrims at the monsters’ mercy to dive into the abyss after your Pandora?”

“You want to make Leda an angel. That makes her valuable, more valuable than three Pilgrims,” Nero said without a hint of emotion.

Nyx looked from him to me. “Well, it looks like all the cards are on the table now.” Unlike Nero, she was showing emotion, amusement being the predominate one.

Nyx was an interesting angel. She was strict but had a sense of humor. She ensured the rules of the Legion were upheld to the letter, but I could have sworn that half the time she wasn’t taking herself seriously at all. She was not arrogant except when it suited the situation, which was basically when she needed to keep people in line.

“A compelling argument, Colonel, except she is not an angel yet,” Nyx said. “She must still prove herself, just like everyone else.”

“She will.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Nyx’s mouth. “Colonel, you’ve had a long and distinguished career at the Legion, so just this once, I’ll forego the usual punishments.”

The way she said ‘usual punishments’ made me wish I never found out how the Legion punished misbehaving angels. Angels could take a lot of damage, so the punishments must have been truly horrendous.

“Really, Nero,” Nyx continued, her tone lighter now. “You should have just slept with her, not wooed her. Feelings make things messy. Especially when those feelings are for someone under your command.”

I resisted the urge to point out that Nyx, as head angel of the Legion, reported to the gods, one of whom was her lover.

Nero shot me a hard look.

“What? I didn’t say anything. You can’t punish me for something I didn’t say.”

“When angels are involved, I can,” he replied. “We can read thoughts. You need to learn to control what you think.”

“Sorry, I’m still working on controlling what I say.”

“I fear that work will never be done.” Nero bowed his head to Nyx. “I apologize for her inappropriate thoughts.”

“No, it’s quite all right. She is right. Everything just goes out the window when love enters the picture, doesn’t it?”

I could have sworn Nyx winked at me, but it had happened so fast.

Nero didn’t say anything, and I didn’t ask him if that was how he felt. I wasn’t even sure what I felt.

“Now, just a few more orders of business. Nero, you’re coming with me, at least for a while. I have an important mission for you.”

“What about me?”

“Yes, I did say I would get to you, didn’t I?” said Nyx. “You will continue your current mission, though it’s changed somewhat after recent events. Colonel Fireswift will be overseeing the mission now. It turns out his mission and yours are very much connected.”

Colonel Fireswift’s mission? I thought back to what Jace had told me before he’d left with his father.

“Colonel Fireswift is tracking down a rogue angel. Osiris Wardbreaker,” I said.

Nyx’s dark eyebrows arched. “I’m not going to ask how you know about that. Trouble seems to follow you wherever you go, Leda Pierce.” Nyx folded her hands together. “Yes, Colonel Fireswift is after Osiris Wardbreaker. I believe you’ve met him.”

I’d only ever met three angels: Nero, Nyx, and as of a few minutes ago, Colonel Fireswift. If you could count exchanging icy glares as ‘meeting’. But none of those three angels was Osiris Wardbreaker.

“You know him as the hooded bandit,” Nyx told me.

“That was a rogue angel?” I asked, remembering how he’d moved. How fast he’d been. How strong.

“Yes, a rogue angel is after the holy relics, and if he gets to them first, no one on Earth will be safe, not even the angels.”