by Ella Summers
“You have been spying on me all these years.”
Allegra opened her mouth like she was going to protest, but she snapped it shut again. She took a deep breath. “Yes,” she admitted.
“General Silverstar assigned you to be my friend,” I pressed on.
“Yes.”
My heart clenched up with each new admission. “He told you to report back on what I was doing, what I was thinking, how I was feeling. He told you to make sure I did not stray from the path he’d set out for me. If there were any signs that I was deviating from his plan, you were supposed to nudge me back in the right direction.”
“Yes.”
Each word fell from her lips like a single drop of water into a silent pool.
Damiel did nothing. He said nothing. He just allowed me to interrogate Allegra. And he watched. Very closely.
“Get out,” I hissed at her.
She lifted her hands. “Our friendship might have started out as an assignment, but it isn’t that way anymore. I came to care about you, Cadence. To consider you a true friend.”
“Friends don’t lie. They don’t go behind your back,” I snapped. “Get out. Out of my room. Out of my castle. Out of my life.”
“But Cadence—”
“Go.” I pulled out my phone and typed quickly. “I’ve transferred you to the Brazil office, which is in desperate need of powerful elementals. There, at the edge of the Monster Rainforest, where the monstrous plants are growing to cover the lands faster than anywhere else on Earth, you will fight the feral forest.”
“We are friends,” Allegra protested. “And you need me.”
“I don’t need you.”
She reached for me.
Damiel stepped between us. “If you prefer, we can continue this discussion in an interrogation chamber.”
Allegra spun around and left my room very fast.
I closed the door behind her, then slouched against the wall. “I have to speak to my father.”
“You can’t,” Damiel told me. “Not yet. You cannot afford to split your focus right now. You need to concentrate on this mission. You can worry about your father later.”
“But I need to know what he’s planning for me.”
“I know you do.” He took my hand. His thumb stroked the underside of my wrist.
He was trying to comfort me. It was so strange to be at the receiving end of such kindness, such gentleness from someone I’d feared long before I’d known him.
“My whole world is crashing down, Damiel. Everything that I have ever known. My whole life is a lie. I don’t even know who to trust anymore.”
Damiel wrapped his arms around me and hugged me to his chest. “Your whole life isn’t a lie. And you can trust me. Remember that.”
A tear slid down my face, falling on his shoulder. I looked up at him. Impulse struck me again. I rose to my tiptoes and kissed him softly on his lips.
His body grew still. His arms dropped. He was no longer holding me.
I stepped back, looking upon him. Whereas my eyes were cautious, his were intense—and a little surprised. My kiss had surprised the Master Interrogator. Go figure.
Feeling rather foolish, I began to turn away from him. But he caught my wrist and pulled me back around. And this time, it was he who kissed me. His kiss was just as soft, just as quick, as the one I’d given him.
It wasn’t enough. I wanted more. My hands tightened on his back, pulling his body against mine.
He tensed and moved away from me.
“What’s wrong?” I looked at him through lowered lashes.
“You are feeling lost, vulnerable. Right now and back at the waterfall, you only kissed me because you wanted to feel close to someone.”
“At the waterfall,” I repeated. It was all starting to come together. “That’s why you didn’t kiss me back.”
“Yes.”
“And just now?”
“Just now, I gave in to temptation.” He looked ashamed, an expression I never thought I’d see on an angel’s face. “It will not happen again.”
His response made my heart melt—and my temper bubble under my skin.
“It will not happen again?” I threw his words back at him. “You think I’m weak. Well, stop deconstructing me, Interrogator. Yes, I’m lost and out of control. But who are you to tell me that I can’t be close to the only person left in my life, the only person I can still trust? Well, I say to hell with propriety and to hell with everyone else and what they want. This is about what we want.”
With that said, I kissed him again. Then I pulled back just far enough to level a challenging stare on him.
Your move.
His hands caressed the contours of my back all the way down…his fingers finally settling lightly on my hips, like a butterfly setting down on a flower petal.
“This is about what we want,” he repeated, casting a long, leisurely look down the length of my body. His gaze lifted. “You.” His eyes captured mine. “And I.” His grip tightened on my hips.
“Yes.” I arched toward him.
His hold loosened, if only but a little. Even so, it felt like all heat had evaporated from my body, leaving me cold and alone.
“And you’re quite sure about this?” he asked seriously, his words falling against my lips.
“Yes.”
Clutching me tightly, he dipped back my head and kissed me—slow and easy at first, but his kiss quickly grew faster, deeper. Almost savage. His tongue slipped past my lips. My head grew dizzy, my body feverish. A soft moan escaped my mouth.
Damiel was a good kisser. He knew exactly which buttons to push—and when to push them. I tried to match his moves, hoping desperately that he didn’t think I was a complete idiot. While I could fight a pack of monsters or build a Magitech generator, I had never trained this. In matters of love and pleasure, I was as green as a Legion initiate.
My father had always chased away any man who tried to court me in any shape or form. He’d sent them all away before I could develop a meaningful relationship with any of them. He was always watching me through others he’d planted in my circle, I now realized.
Damiel set his hands on my cheeks and met my eyes. “No one will scare me away.”
“You read my thoughts.”
“They were shouting out so loudly. I overheard. Are you upset?”
“No.” I managed a half smile. “Just embarrassed.”
“If anything, I should be embarrassed that you are thinking about something other than me while kissing me.” He stroked a strand of my hair between his fingers. He only touched the very ends, but even so, his caress sent delightful shivers through my entire body. “It means I am not doing my job.”
I couldn’t say why I laughed, but I did. “I apologize for being rude.”
“I choose to view it as a challenge, an opportunity to make you forget those unhappy thoughts.”
He kissed me again. His hands stroked my head, massaging my scalp. His fingers loosened my hair, caressing my neck, all the way down my back. My muscles melted at his touch, at the same time relaxed and completely wound up. But how could I feel both calm and tense at the same time?
“Stop overthinking it, Cadence.”
And slowly, I did stop overthinking it. I put my heart into every kiss—feeling, not thinking.
Until it was I who pulled away this time.
“Ok.” I met his gaze. “We should go to New York now.”
His breathing was heavy, his eyes alight with magic. “After you.”
A part of me was thrilled to see him out of breath, victorious; that was the angel in me, the part of me that needed to conquer.
It lay in direct opposition to the part of me that yearned to be conquered. The part of me that waited with bated breath as he moved toward me, that got excited from the slow stroke of his hand down my jaw.
“Are you sure you can focus long enough to get us there?” His eyes twinkled. The wicked bastard knew how charming he was.
�
�I don’t know, Colonel.” I drew the Diamond Tear. “Do you think you can focus long enough to walk through the portal?”
He laughed.
I created the passage to New York. Winking, I grabbed his hand, then pulled him in with me.
We appeared at the center of the Promenade in New York, directly in front of a sparkling white obelisk. Within that building lay the east coast headquarters of the Legion of Angels, the seat of Damiel’s territory.
We walked into a lush and opulent lobby, gold and white and heavenly all over. Hand-painted gods looked down on us from the colorful ceiling, and angel portraits stood guard on the walls.
The eyes of every soldier in the room followed me and Damiel as we strode up to the front desk. Our boots clicked sharply against the icy marble floor.
“Where is Captain Goodman?” Damiel asked the man behind the counter.
He answered immediately. “Training soldiers in Hall 4.” His voice was crisp, but there was an uneven flicker in his eyes. He was clearly afraid of Damiel.
Damiel walked to a pair of doors at the back of the room. They swooshed open before him. I followed him through.
Everyone in the halls made way for us, that same fearful reverence burning in their eyes.
Is everyone here afraid of you? I asked Damiel.
Of course, he replied. My soldiers aren’t stupid.
Gods, he’d really built a big wall around himself.
Your soldiers are staring at us, I told him.
It was eerie how many eyes were trained on us, following every step, every turn, every flicker of movement.
Do you want me to discipline them? he asked me, amused.
No. I don’t think your discipline is very much fun.
That depends on who you ask.
Colonel Dragonsire, are you flirting with me?
Of course, he said casually, completely unapologetic.
And had he just…winked at me? And in front of others, no less.
No, it must have been my imagination. He would never wink in front of his soldiers. Unless he’d done it too fast for them to see.
I really wish they’d stop staring, I said.
Sure, I’d had people stare at me before. I was an angel after all. So I was used to the look of absolute devotion in their eyes. But this was different. These soldiers weren’t so much worshipping the ground I walked upon as they were gaping at me.
Can you really blame them? he replied. You are the Legion’s most beautiful angel.
I thought that was Colonel Wardbreaker, I teased.
Damiel gave me a curious look. Now it’s you who is flirting with me.
I…I’m doing no such thing!
You forget, Princess, that I’ve interrogated thousands of people. I can read the guilt in your eyes. And, besides, you protest too fervently to be innocent.
Fine. Then maybe I just won’t talk to you at all.
Damiel’s chuckles echoed inside my mind. They are all staring at you—at us—because we are famous. We’re the only two angels to have ever married another angel. The news is being blasted all across the Legion, as well as our faces. Everyone knows who we are by now.
We’d reached Hall 4. I knew that from the huge sign on the door. Damiel pushed the door open and marched into the gym, his head held high, every fiber of his being, every molecule of magic, exuding absolute authority.
Each and every person in the hall immediately stopped whatever they were doing and stared at us. Just like the soldiers in the halls had.
Behind their backs, Jiro Goodman shot Damiel an amused look. However, his expression was all business—hard and soldierly—when he commanded the soldiers to face him.
“Above all else, a Legion soldier’s mind must be disciplined. Unflappable. Because, ultimately, a disciplined mind is what will make all the difference between life and death when you sip the gods’ Nectar. Don’t be so easily distracted by a pair of pretty angel faces,” Jiro chided his trainees, then dismissed them.
It was only after the door closed behind the last trainee—and we were alone in the gym with Jiro—that the smile returned to his face.
“I am very pleased to see your heavenly face again,” Jiro said smoothly to me. He was all charm.
Damiel’s eyebrows furrowed. “You never suck up to me so well.”
“Flattery doesn’t have any effect on you anyway, Damiel. You value action, not words.”
“Because words can lie.” His face was serious, reflective. “Jiro, I require your special talents.”
Jiro flashed him a grin. “To which of my numerous talents are you referring?”
“Your skill for blowing things up.”
“Ah, my favorite.” His grin widened. “What’s the mission?”
“Head to the armory,” Damiel said as we left the gym. He handed Jiro a list. “This is what you’ll need.”
Jiro looked it over. “From the looks of it, we’ll be infiltrating a base with heavily-fortified magic defenses.”
“Not a base, a castle fortress.”
“A castle fortress, you say? Like heaven’s palace?” Jiro teased him as we reached the armory. “So you’re finally rebelling against the gods.”
“No,” Damiel said flatly. “The battle will not take place on Earth or in heaven, and yet both hang in the balance.”
Jiro began packing supplies into a large duffel bag. “You’re being even more cryptic than usual, Damiel.”
“Good.” Damiel grabbed a second bag. “Now, hurry. We don’t have much time.”
17
Sanctuary
Our bags of magic supplies packed, Damiel and I returned with Jiro to the Hive world. The rebels’ base was soon bustling with activity. Everyone was getting ready for the imminent march on the fortress, under Damiel’s direction. Jiro was busy in the garage, setting up the Magitech devices we’d need to penetrate the Hive’s magical defenses. I joined him. It gave me a chance to learn more about Damiel from the person who knew him best.
“So you and Damiel joined the Legion at the same time,” I said.
Jiro looked up from the device he was tinkering with to flash me a grin. “Just come out and ask me what you really want to know, sweetheart. Don’t beat around the bush.”
I frowned. “You don’t talk to angels like other people do.”
“No, I don’t. I lived on an Earth before gods and angels. And demons, for that matter. Things were different back then. Humans were proud. We didn’t kiss anyone’s ass. I suppose those four years of menial labor at the Legion should have humbled me, but I’m a stubborn son of a bitch.”
“Four years of menial labor at the Legion?” I repeated. “You worked for the Legion before they allowed you to join, just like Damiel?”
“He and I arrived on their doorstep on the very same day. Others did, too, eager to join but still too young. None of them lasted more than a few weeks. Damiel and I stuck it out for four years. During that time, we were lower than the lowest initiates, lower than the bottom of the Legion. There wasn’t even a name for the non-positions we held.
“But we got through it, determined to become initiates. We trained together whenever we had a spare moment, during those very short breaks between loads of hard labor and lots of cleaning. Many initiates made a game out of tormenting us. For four years, we watched our tormenters rise in the Legion’s ranks while we stood still, stuck in time.”
“Until you turned twenty-two,” I said.
“That was a glorious day.”
“And you came of age on the very same day?”
“No, my twenty-second birthday was a week before his, but we both fell in the same initiation group. We took our first sip of Nectar together.”
“And you’ve been inseparable ever since?”
He laughed. “Something like that. Those years of suffering hardened our determination—and our willpower.”
“Above all else, a Legion soldier’s mind must be disciplined. Unflappable. Because, ultimately, a disciplined mind is wh
at will make all the difference between life and death when you sip the gods’ Nectar,” I quoted him.
Jiro gave me a funny look. “I’ve heard a lot about your picture-perfect memory.”
“It didn’t start out that way,” I said. “But when you have an archangel for a father, a simple child’s game of Memory comes with very real consequences for failure.”
He grimaced. “Do I want to know what those consequences were?”
“Probably not.”
“But the experience made you stronger.”
“It did,” I agreed.
“You and Damiel have a lot in common. You’ve both been through more than most people can even comprehend.”
“Damiel is…”
“Crazy,” Jiro supplied.
“Complicated,” I amended. “He’s faced so much hardship in his life. And he’s lost so much. Those experiences have made him stubborn. They’ve made him believe he doesn’t need anyone. But he does. He really does.”
“He told you what happened to his family?”
“Yes.”
“And what happened with Leon?”
“Yes.”
Jiro let out a low whistle. “And yet you’ve known him hardly a week.”
“We’ve been through a lot together in that week.”
“So I’ve heard. Your first mission with Damiel left a definite impression on him. He was intrigued, completely fascinated by you. But more than that, he connected to you. He couldn’t stop talking about you. I’ve never seen him like this before.”
“Surely, you’re exaggerating.”
“Do you know what he told me?” Jiro continued. “He told me, ‘that woman will be my wife’. He was sure of it. One hundred percent determined. And Damiel never stops until he gets what he’s set his mind to.”
I felt a spark of emotion, of bizarre anticipation, in my gut. Even though those events had already come to pass, even though we were already married. We’d married on the Legion’s orders. It had nothing to do with Damiel’s feelings—or mine, for that matter. Honestly, I didn’t even know what my feelings were telling me.
“Are you sure you’re supposed to be telling me any of this?” I asked Jiro.