20

Bella was sitting beside me, wrapping my bandages, when I woke up in my own bed. My body felt a little better, but my mind and magic felt like they’d been put through the blender.

“He can’t stay here,” Calli’s voice streamed in through the partially-open bedroom door. “He’s too dangerous.”

“I will be moving him,” Nero replied. “It’s just for now, until Leda can travel again.”

“We can take care of our own.”

“I will not leave her side. The last two times we were separated, she almost died.”

“That won’t happen here,” Calli said.

“I’m staying. I take care of my own too.”

“She’s not your soldier anymore.”

“She is so much more than a soldier.”

Bella brushed a washcloth over my forehead. “Just rest. You’re safe,” she said in soothing tones.

I closed my eyes. The next time I woke up, it was Nero at my bedside. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” I looked at my bloody bandages. “Why hasn’t it healed?”

“You were shot by an immortal weapon.”

I remembered the armored man in the Treasury, the silver gun in his hand. He must have picked up the relic that his comrade had dropped. That explained why the bullets had gone right through armor—and why the wound in my stomach hadn’t healed.

“Am I going to die?” I asked him.

“No, the wound will just heal slowly,” he said. “And, besides, I forbid you to die.”

I grunted. “Nice to know.”

“She’s tough,” Damiel called out from another chair.

“I’m sorry he’s here,” Nero told me. “I have to keep an eye on him in case he tries anything.”

“What am I going to try with these restraints blocking my magic and restricting my movements?” Damiel asked. “I have an itch I haven’t been able to scratch for over an hour.”

“You think this is funny?” Nero snarled. “She is in this state because of you. She almost died.”

“I wasn’t the one to shoot her with an immortal weapon.” Damiel looked at Leda. “I’m glad you survived. You make my son actually feel something. He’s been closed off for so long.”

“You don’t get to speak to her like that, like she’s some old friend. You tortured her, you sadistic swine.”

“You don’t talk to me like that. I am still your father.”

“No, you’re not. You’re nothing. You’re dead. You died two hundred years ago. I wish you’d just stayed that way.”

“I did what I had to do. Back then and now. And not everything is as simple as you think,” Damiel said. “Stop being melodramatic, Nero. What I did was not torture. I know you know what real torture looks like because I brought you along to witness it when you were five.”

Ew. Talk about take-your-son-to-work day, Legion of Angels style. That was twisted. No wonder the Legion brats had issues.

“What I did was unlock the memories in her,” Damiel continued. “That meant breaking her physically. You’ve done that to her, to countless initiates, over the years. You broke them so they could find something inside of themselves. A special power. This is no different.”

“This is completely different,” Nero countered. “Because you enjoyed it.”

“Stop trying to make me fit into that evil image you have of me in your head,” Damiel said. “It was a job that had to be done. Nothing more.” He looked at me, as though I could confirm that he hadn’t enjoyed hurting me.

“You were pretty convincing when you were kicking my ass,” I told him.

“I had to be convincing. You had to believe it.”

“Well, I did. And so did Valiant’s men,” I said.

“You should have just killed them,” Nero told his father.

“I was saving them. I wasn’t sure if the door required a human sacrifice to open the way to the relics, or to unlock them. Some of the old magic does. And I didn’t think you wanted me using your girl for that.”

“So I should be thanking you now?”

“Yes, that would be appropriate. And while you’re at it, how about untying me?” He showed Nero his bound hands. “This is completely undignified.”

Nero gave him a look that said hell would freeze over before he untied him.

“Is it true what you said about human sacrifices? That they activate magic?” I asked Damiel.

“For some kinds of magic, usually objects of power. Magic always has a price, but it’s often not very picky about who pays it.” He paused. “But the relics are made from a whole other kind of magic altogether. That crazy Pilgrim stained his blade with angel blood, and it didn’t activate the magic. But you only had to look at them, and they obeyed your commands.”

I didn’t really want to think about it. Those weapons were too dangerous for anyone to wield. We had to hide them—or destroy them. Part of me screamed in protest at the thought of destroying them. It was probably the same part that had made the weapons turn on Valiant and kill him.

The door creaked open and Calli peeked inside. “The First Angel is coming across the lawn now.”

Nero rose. “Stay here and keep quiet,” he said to his father.

I slowly pushed myself up. Before I could get very far, Nero leaned down and swooped me up into his arms. The front door opened as he set me onto one of the sofas in the living room.

“Stay outside,” Nyx commanded her guards, then shut the door. She followed Calli into the living room.

“First Angel,” Nero said, bowing.

Nyx’s eyes flitted from him to me, bundled up in blankets on the sofa.

“I would bow, but I think I might open my wounds and pass out at your feet,” I said with a small smile.

“It’s quite all right, dear,” she replied. “Rise, Nero. We don’t have time for silly pleasantries.” She sat down on the sofa opposite mine, watching him take a seat next to me. “Have you forgotten how to heal people, Colonel?”

“No. She was shot by an immortal weapon. The wound is not healing as fast as it should.”

“Immortal weapon, you say? Well, Colonel, that’s what we’re here to discuss.” She folded her hands together on her lap. “I got your report. And Colonel Fireswift’s report.” Her mouth thinned into a hard line. “They vary greatly.”

“With all due respect, Colonel Fireswift likes to blow hot air.” He paused, dipping his head. “First Angel.”

Nyx took a cookie from the dish on the table, laughing. It was a genuine laugh. This was the side of Nyx that I liked.

“Ok, let’s hear it.”

So we told her Nero’s carefully crafted story. She listened in silence.

When we were finished, she brushed the cookie crumbs from her hands and said bluntly, “I don’t believe it. Though Wardbreaker’s and Valiant’s remains do seem to confirm that at least part of your story is true. Remind me again why Wardbreaker is only ashes.”

“The relics burned him to ashes,” Nero said.

“Right.” Nyx paused. “And where are these relics?”

“Destroyed during the fight.”

“So you expect me to believe that weapons forged in heaven and hell could be destroyed just like that?”

Nero said nothing. Neither did I. We’d both agreed that it was best. My being a smart ass would just get us into trouble.

Nyx sighed. “Well, I suppose it’s for the best. I just hope those weapons don’t resurface.” She shot us a hard look. “Ok, now, we come to the fun part.”

That sounded ominous.

“I trust you both remember our last conversation together, so this shouldn’t come as a surprise,” she said. “The two of you cause trouble. Nonstop.” She glanced at me. “You are a bad influence on him.”

“Actually, he’s a bad influence on me, I think,” I joked.

Nero’s hand closed around my wrist.

Nyx’s eyes dipped to that gesture. “Going to throw yourself in front of her to protect her from my wrath?” she asked, amused.

“Thankfully, that doesn’t seem necessary.”

“Indeed not.” She looked from me to him, shaking her head in slow disbelief. “What am I going to do with you two?”

I wasn’t sure if that was a rhetorical question or an actual question. I went with the safe option and chose to keep my mouth shut.

“Nero, you should have just let Colonel Fireswift deal with her,” Nyx said.

“He certainly tried to deal with her.”

“What do you mean?”

“She nearly died under his command. From the Nectar.”

“A lot of people died or almost died that night,” Nyx pointed out.

“Because they weren’t ready for the Nectar. Not because their Nectar was laced with Venom.”

Surprise flashed in Nyx’s eyes. “Are you sure?”

“I tested her blood. Someone tried to poison Leda.” He arched a single brow, allowing the rest to go unspoken.

“It wasn’t Colonel Fireswift,” Nyx said, picking up on the implication. “That’s ridiculous. You are letting your feelings cloud your judgment. Colonel Fireswift is a loyal soldier of the Legion.”

“You know as well as I that his ambition defines him. It guides his actions. He would do whatever it took to secure his legacy, his family’s legacy.”

“Enough, Nero. You two have never liked each other, but even he wouldn’t go that far.”

“I will be keeping my eye on him. And especially on her,” he said, intertwining his fingers with mine.

“That will soon be difficult,” replied Nyx. “Look, unofficially, off the record, you two did a great job. You kept the relics out of enemy hands, stopped a rogue angel, and stopped a misguided pilgrim who had the power to destroy everything we’re working for. If you two hadn’t acted fast like you had, we might very well be at war right now. You did the right thing. You are strong, true, and resourceful. A bit too resourceful if what I hear from the paranormal soldiers stationed in town is true.” The corner of her mouth quirked up. “The Legion is lucky to have you.”

She paused, giving us a hard look. “But officially, I can’t say any of that. You went out on your own, knowing that if you’d come to me, I would have told you to let Colonel Fireswift handle it. You two are trouble together. Explosive. I can’t have you at the same office together. I can’t have her under your command, Nero. So I’m doing the only thing I can.”

“I’m being moved,” I said glumly.

“No, you’re staying right where you are,” Nyx said to my surprise. She turned to Nero. “You are being moved. And I know just where to put you.” She gave him a long, hard look. “You’re being promoted. Congratulations, General.” She winked at him.

“Now,” she said, rising. “I expect to see you in my office in LA tonight, Nero, so we can discuss your next post.”

Then she rose and walked out of the house. As soon as she was gone, my bedroom door creaked open and Damiel stepped into the living room.

“I couldn’t help but overhear,” he said.

“I have half a mind to kill him,” Nero muttered. “Or turn him over to Nyx.”

“You can’t bribe the First Angel into letting you stay in New York,” Damiel said.

“I can certainly try.” He looked at me. “I should have seen this coming, her promoting me to solve her problem.”

“Stop being cynical.”

“Such an attitude is necessary at the Legion.”

“Nyx is promoting you because she needs you,” I told him.

“I know. But she’s also getting rid of a problem.”

Damiel grabbed one of the cookies Nyx had been enjoying so much. “He’s right. By having you not under his command, she is allowing this lovely relationship to blossom.” He looked at Nero. “Assuming you can behave yourself and not try to save her at every opportunity. And assuming you survive the ceremony. Level ten is brutal.”

“As always, you give the best pep talks.”

“I can help you prepare,” Damiel offered.

“I don’t need your help.”

I made a note to get tips from Damiel. I was not going to lose Nero because he was too stubborn to accept his father’s help.

“Nyx is right, you know.” Damiel’s eyes shifted between me and Nero.

“About what?” Nero asked impatiently.

“It wasn’t Fireswift who poisoned Leda. He couldn’t have. Angels can’t get the Venom. But gods can.”

Nero’s expression changed. He no longer looked angry. He looked scared. I’d never seen that expression on his face before.

“What is it?” I asked him.

“He’s realized that I’m right. And what it means,” Damiel said.

I looked at Nero for clarification, but he didn’t say anything. So I turned to Damiel instead. “What does it mean?”

“Best case scenario, one of the gods wants you dead.”

“That is the best case scenario?”

“Yes. When it comes to the gods, if you gain their attention, death is the best you can hope for. The other reason a god might have poisoned you is to test you.”

“Test me how?”

Damiel shrugged. “Maybe to see how resilient you are. Or the god thinks you’re special and wants to figure out how—and then turn you into a weapon or a guinea pig. That happens all the time.”

“Stop talking now,” Nero said to his father, his voice dangerously quiet.

“You sure are on edge, Nero. Are you sure there isn’t something you want to get off your chest?” He glanced at me.

“I told you to stop.”

“I’m just trying to help.”

“No, you’re not.”

They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. I felt like they were having a silent discussion, excluding me. Maybe they were speaking telepathically.

“Careful, old man. I can still throw you to the wolves,” Nero said finally.

Ok, now I was sure they’d been talking telepathically.

“You’re a terrible liar, Nero. If you were going to turn me in, you would have done it already. I think you have a soft spot for me.”

Nero’s eyes flashed with indignation. “Did you hit your head when you fell from heaven?”

Damiel chuckled. “Nyx was wrong,” he told me. “You’re not a bad influence on my son. You are a fantastic influence.”

“I’m not sure about that, but thanks. I think.”

His eyes took on a nostalgic glow. “This is just like it was with Nero’s mother. Except I was the bad influence. We used to stay up late—”

A knife shot across the room. Damiel caught it between his bound hands, twisting them expertly to compensate. He set the knife calmly down on the coffee table.

“Nero, do not throw knives indoors,” he said in that same patient tone he’d used back at the Lost City, the tone of an immortal with all the time in the world, the tone of someone unbothered by anything. “Especially not when we’re guests in someone else’s home. It’s simply not appropriate.”

I was starting to realize that was the tone he reserved for the times he was really emotional, like it was his counter to strong feelings.

“Do not speak of my mother,” Nero said, his eyes burning with rage.

“I loved her.”

“You killed her,” he spat. His lip quivered, his shoulders shaking with angry tremors.

“No.” He paused. “It’s time you heard what really happened. I didn’t really go crazy. I was always a bit dark, but your mother countered that. She balanced me.”

His eyes shone with naked vulnerability. Looking into those eyes, I knew he’d loved her—that he still loved her. Nero must have seen it too because he didn’t argue with his father. He just listened in silence, waiting for Damiel to continue.

“Those were different times, Nero,” he said. “After a few angels defected, the Legion grew paranoid. They began striking preemptively, trying to stomp out darkness. We heard they were coming for me—and that they were going to assign your mother to hunt me down out of some kind of twisted sense of poetic justice.”

My heart clenched in sympathy. “That is cruel.”

“The Legion is cruel,” Damiel told me. “And they are cunning. So we decided to preempt them. We staged a confrontation. Everything you saw was an act.” He looked at Nero. “For you. So you would not be forever barred from joining the Legion because of our treachery. As long as the Legion thought your mother died doing her duty, you would be assured entry.”

“But why would you want him to join an organization that would force his mother to kill his father?” I asked.

“The gods control the Nectar,” Nero said, his eyes meeting his father’s. “Without Nectar, you cannot become an angel. This is about power.”

“It’s about who you are,” Damiel replied. “Who you were always meant to be: an angel.”

Nero said nothing.

“She’s alive.”

Nero’s eyes lit up.

“Your mother is alive, and we are going to find her. That’s why I tracked down the weapons of heaven and hell. They belong to a group called the Guardians. I was going to use the weapons to get their attention so I could find her. After our staged battle, we were wounded and separated. I learned the Guardians had taken her in, but no one knows where they are. I’ve been searching for her, Nero, for two hundred years.”