15

I slept more soundly than I’d thought possible on the back of a motorcycle. I didn’t wake up until we came to a stop at the edge of the Lost City. Nero informed me that no monsters had attacked us along the way. I guess we didn’t look like tasty targets.

“I wonder who my parents were,” I said as we secured the motorcycle, hiding it from sight. The last thing we needed was a nosy patrol to find our ride and go tattletale back to Colonel Windstriker.

“Were they also in the Legion? Did they know Aradia? Are they really dead, or did Aradia take me from them? I have so many questions.” I’d have to look in the Legion’s records when we got back to New York. Maybe there was something in Aradia’s file that would shed some light on all of this.

“Some of your answers might be closer than you think.” Nero tapped his finger on my forehead. “There are memories inside of you, memories that are not your own.”

“How did I get them?”

“I’d guess someone buried them there. It’s no coincidence that they are coming out now. I believe they were triggered by the Nectar and maybe by the Venom, by your growing abilities, your growing magic. If I’m right, as your power grows, more memories will surface.”

“And whose memories are they?”

“You have memories of this city.”

“Yes. From the final battle here.” Which happened over two hundred years ago. How could they possibly be linked to my parents?

“Memories from one person or from many?” Nero asked.

I thought about it, sifting through what I remembered from the flashes. “More than one person, but they are all jumbled up. And I can’t control them. They just come at random.”

“You need more discipline.”

“This is hardly the time for a lecture.”

“It’s not a lecture. It’s an offer of help. Let me help you.” He set his hands on my cheeks. “We exchanged blood earlier tonight, Leda. We’re linked. I can help you.”

“How?”

“Just like the last time when I helped you see your brother. Close your eyes,” he instructed me. “Is there someone you see more often than the others in your visions?”

“Yes, an angel named Sierra.”

“Focus on her.”

I pictured the red-haired angel with the silver wings.

“Did she have the relics?”

“Yes,” I told him.

“Picture them too.”

Her armor was silver just like her wings. I could see it shimmering in the light of the moon. She held a flaming sword. But it wasn’t like other fire swords. Its flame wasn’t orange; it was blue.

“Good,” Nero said. “I can see it in your mind. Now follow Sierra to the treasury.”

Images flickered past, flashes of memories. Faster and faster in dizzying, whirling loops—and then it all stopped.

Sierra walked down the underground city, but it hadn’t been under the ground then. Moonlight melted with the city lights, bathing the streets in an almost ethereal glow. Sierra stopped in front of the small house and touched the angel symbol. The wall shifted, the gateway opening.

The memory bled away, and I found myself facedown in the dirt. I pushed myself up, and immediately began pacing, trying to sort through what I had just seen and make sense of it.

“Sierra touched the symbol of the angel, and the gateway just opened. But how? How did she do it? What’s the trick?”

“Recite the line for me.”

“ ‘For in the midnight hour, the sun and moon will shine, and a new hero will rise, his mind unlocking the secrets within.’ ”

“It’s a metaphor,” Nero said. “This isn’t about the sun and the moon. It’s about a person. Someone who embodies the balance of darkness and light. Someone like you.”

“The angel symbol was pulsing. Light and dark,” I realized. “In my dream, Sierra spoke of inheriting someone else’s destiny, and the gateway only opens to someone who embodies light and darkness. Sierra wasn’t the first keeper of the weapons of heaven and hell. I wonder how many keepers there have been? And where they all are now?”

“I believe I’m looking at one right now.”

“I don’t know, Nero. Sierra was so…powerful. I’m just some watered-down version. You probably have a better chance of opening that gateway than I do.”

“I have darkness and light in me, Leda, but they’re not in balance. They’re in conflict.”

“And that makes a difference?”

“More than how much magic you have, I believe.” He touched my face. “You survived Venom mixed with Nectar. If that isn’t proof of your light-dark balance, then I don’t know what is,” he said. “Also, I tested you.”

“Tested me? How?”

“With the beasts. What I told you wasn’t completely true. Not all Legion soldiers of the third level can compel the beasts. In fact, until today, I’d thought I was the only person who could do it,” he said. “You see, the monsters came from gods and demons. Some were beasts of light, and some were beasts of darkness. But that changed quickly. They bred with one another. That weakened the gods’ and demons’ control over them. Slowly, their hold over the beasts faded, until a few generations later, it was gone.”

“Because the monsters are now of mixed magic. Of light and darkness,” I realized.

“Gods and demons are just two sides of the same coin. And so are their beasts.”

“How do you know all of this?” I asked him. “It doesn’t sound like something the Legion would tell its soldiers.”

“No, of course not. They would call what I just told you blasphemy. The gods refuse to accept that they and the demons are the same. It was my mother who told me the truth of what happened, of how the gods and demons lost control of the beasts.”

Nero continued, “Humans are like gods and demons, like monsters. Our magic can be light or dark. But unlike monsters, there aren’t many of us who possess both dark and light magic in large quantities.”

“But you do,” I said.

“Because I am the child of two angels, one of light and one who turned to darkness. It is an explosive combination.” He set his hand on my cheek. “But not in you. In you, the light and dark are balanced. I controlled the beasts with raw power. You controlled them just by being. The Nectar brought out your light magic. And the Venom is now bringing out your dark magic.”

“Can all monsters be controlled?”

“Not all. Also, it doesn’t work once a battle has started. The beasts need to be calm. And it’s best if it’s a herd, those who follow by instinct. Top tier predators are almost impossible to control. Practice this power but just don’t depend on the ability to save you in a fight.”

“Ok. I won’t.”

“And don’t tell anyone that you have the power to control monsters. It is a dangerous gift. If the gods or demons think they have any chance of regaining control over the monsters, they will not hesitate to do whatever they can to make it happen.”

Which would probably involve experimenting on, drugging, and torturing us. No, thank you.

Nero turned toward the Lost City. “Ok, let’s move in.”

* * *

I felt like a thief in the night sneaking through the city, avoiding Legion patrols. But at least I wasn’t alone in my delinquency.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I told Nero. “No matter what Nyx thinks, we make a good team.”

“She knows we’re a great team. She just wanted to separate us for a time so I could clear my head of you. Obviously, it didn’t work.”

“If I were Nyx, I’d probably separate us too,” I admitted. “I’m a bad influence on you. Just look at what’s happening here. You’re breaking rules because of me.”

“That’s not what’s happening here. I’m not breaking any rules. And neither are you,” he told me.

“Oh?” My lips curled. “How do you figure that?”

“I am here to track a weapon of darkness, the mission Nyx gave me. Our meeting is pure chance. You came here because you figured out the truth that the relics are of heaven and hell, and you puzzled out how to open the door. You were concerned that someone was trying to keep you from saving the relics, someone on the inside who poisoned you. Fearing for your life, not knowing who you could trust, you came here in secret to save the relics from falling into the hands of anyone who would use them for great evil.”

“Nice story,” I told him.

He inclined his head.

“So, do you really think anyone will buy this load of bullshit?”

“You have to believe it when you tell the story,” he told me. “You have to sell it. You have the gods’ third gift, Siren’s Song, the power to persuade, to make others believe. And besides, you were already a siren anyway.” He was looking at me like I would be the death of him yet.

“Ok, convincing. Serious. I can do this.”

“You practice your story. I’m going to scout out ahead and make sure the way is clear.”

With that said, Nero left me alone with my thoughts. And my head was bursting with them right now. As the minutes passed, I thought about Nero, about my past, my magic, and about how it didn’t all add up because I was still missing too many pieces. All I knew—and I was somehow certain of this—was that everything going on was linked. The rogue angel, the relics of heaven and hell, my being poisoned, my past, these memories, my light-dark balance: it was all part of the same picture. But how was it all connected? What did it mean?

A tall man with dark, spiky hair and pale blue eyes came running down the street, and he was headed right for my hiding spot. I didn’t recognize his face. Maybe he was from the Legion, but then why wasn’t he wearing a Legion uniform?

I crouched down lower. I could have sworn he looked straight at me. This was bad. Really bad. If he wasn’t from the Legion, then he was most likely a thief come to rob the Lost City of its treasures. He’d see me as competition and attack, at which point Colonel Fireswift’s men would close in around us. I had to strike first and take him down before he could fight back. I reached for my gun.

But I hesitated. There was something about him, something familiar. His scent. Yes, that was it. His scent. His scent was Nero’s scent. The moment I made the connection, the man’s face blurred, a visual hiccup rippling across his skin before the spell resettled.

“Nero?” I whispered.

He crouched down beside me behind the rusted old truck. “How did you know? How did you see through that spell?”

“I’m not sure exactly.” I took his hand in mine, lifting it to my nose. “It had something to do with your scent. It reminded me of your blood and how much I crave it. How it sings to me. How my pulse syncs to yours whenever you’re near.”

He brushed the hair back from my face. “That is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me.”

I caught his hand as it brushed through my hair. “When I recognized your scent, your face blurred for a moment.” It was so weird to watch someone with a stranger’s face touch me like that. “How are you doing this?”

“It’s shifting magic,” he told me. “Glamour, one branch of shifting. It’s a mental shift, not a physical one.”

“Meaning you didn’t actually change your appearance? You’re projecting it into my mind?”

“Right.”

“Will others be able to see through the glamour?” I asked.

“It depends on how strong their magic is. Up close, other angels and high-level Legion soldiers will be able to see through it. From afar, it should fool most people, though. If we keep our distance, our disguises will hold. We should be able to get past them.”

“Our disguises?”

He drew his sword, showing me my reflection to the blade. An unfamiliar face stared back at me, a woman with hair as black as obsidian and dark skin as smooth as honey. I puckered up my full, red lips and blew myself a kiss.

“Couldn’t you have made me taller? Or given me bigger boobs?” I teased him.

“Changing larger dimensions is tricky.”

I sighed. “Too bad.” I gazed at my new face in the sword. Even though I knew it was fake, I had a hard time seeing through my own glamour.

“Why can’t I see through it, knowing it’s fake? If this is a mental spell, shouldn’t that knowledge be enough? Why do I have to squint my eyes and concentrate really hard to see the blurry mask?”

“Because I am an angel with high-level magic.”

“I thought modesty is a virtue,” I teased.

“Not in angels.”

I snickered.

“Your ability to see through glamours will grow with practice and as you level up your magic. For now, you should just know that not everyone is what they appear. So always make sure someone is who they look like before spilling secrets. Even if you see me, it might not be me.”

“Things were so much simpler when people had only one face.”

“We all have many faces, Leda.”

Colonel Fireswift had at least a dozen—all of them cruel.

We snuck through the city ruins, avoiding Legion teams, avoiding Colonel Fireswift most of all. Nero said his disguise probably wouldn’t work against him, not even from a distance.

“How long have you known him?” I asked.

“We were in the same initiation group. We entered the Legion together, both of us Legion brats, both shooting high.”

“So he saw you as his greatest competition?”

“He still does.” Nero pulled me into a building as a patrol passed by. “You need to be careful with him. He didn’t get to be an angel by being just a dumb brute. He knows how to play the game. He will find your weaknesses and exploit them. And you make that easy. Your enemies can see everything because you put it all out there. They will use it against you, including Fireswift’s son, your friend. Everything you share with him he will use against you when push comes to shove, when it’s a choice between you and himself. I’ve seen it before. His father did the same to me.”

“Jace is not his father, nor does he want to be. And that’s what really matters in the end. I have faith that he will find the right path.”

“You can’t save everyone.”

“No, but I think I know who can be saved.” I smiled at him.

We emerged from the building, continuing toward the entrance to the underground levels.”

“You mean me,” Nero said. “You think I can be saved.”

“From the moment you walked into that back room holding my Legion application, I knew that was an angel who was screaming for someone to kill that bug stuck up his ass.”

“And you figured yourself equal to the job?”

“Of course. I excel at lost causes. You’re already much more agreeable than you used to be. If only you would stop giving me pushups.”

“Pushups build muscle and character,” he said seriously.

“I’m pretty strong, and I think we can both agree I have more than enough character to go around.”

We slowed, growing silent as we crouched down and looked at the piles of rocks that littered the street from here to the entrance into the underground city. Every patch of ground that wasn’t occupied by rocks was occupied by Legion soldiers moving rocks, either by hand or by magic. There were too many of them. We’d never be able to sneak in unnoticed, not without a pretty sizable distraction.

The Lost City delivered, as though it had heard my prayer. Wolflike monsters streamed across the ruined city, flooding down the streets, pouring down the buildings. The Legion soldiers stopped moving rocks and turned to fight the monsters. Even Colonel Fireswift moved off his spot beside the growing hole to attack the swarm of monsters.

With the Legion soldiers busy, Nero and I slipped around behind them and jumped unseen into the hole. We ran down streets and tunnels not yet completely cleared of debris. The whole place looked about as stable as a tissue paper house, and it might come down at any moment.

We came up on the little house. I touched the pulsing angel mark. And just like in my vision, the wall split to reveal the gateway. Warm streams of magic rippled across my skin, drawing me forward.

Magic slammed into me from behind, hurling me through the opening. I landed in a pool of gold coins. Nero shot over my head and hit the back wall. He jumped up, magic exploding out of him. The telekinetic wave shot toward a hooded figure, but it dissipated before it ever made it there, absorbed by the dome of magic that had blossomed out to protect him. Nero stood frozen, as though he couldn’t believe his eyes, as though he’d never seen anything like it before.

That moment of surprise cost him. The hooded angel’s telekinetic blast was bigger than Nero’s. It hammered into Nero, throwing him against a stone column so hard that the column snapped. The ceiling caved in and collapsed on top of him.

I ran toward the rocky waterfall burying Nero. I could feel him in there, being slowly crushed under the weight. Panic surged in me. I had to get him out.

“Leda,” a cold voice bit at my skin, chilling me to the bone. “I’ve been waiting for you for two hundred years.”

A cold phantom hand of magic closed around my throat, squeezing. Something hard slammed into the side of my head, and the world went black.