Psychic's Spell (Legion of Angels Book 6)

by Ella Summers

  I snorted. “I love you, Nero Windstriker.”

  “Of course you do,” he said with even more smugness, kissing my neck.

  I laughed again. Then I closed my eyes and fell asleep in his arms.

  When I woke up, Nero was still lying beside me. I held him close, stroking my hand across his, so afraid that I was going to wake up at any moment and find this had all been nothing but a Nectar-induced dream. And that Nero was still missing.

  I’m here, Nero spoke inside my mind. This is real.

  If this were a dream, you’d say exactly that.

  His lips brushed my shoulder. “I heard about your encounter with the Pioneers. You get into all kinds of trouble without me.”

  I snatched hold of his hand and kissed his fingertips. “I get into even more trouble with you, angel.”

  Nero’s laugh rumbled against my back.

  I turned to look over my shoulder at him. The way he was looking at me was simply breathtaking. It was the glow in his eyes, the love in them. I could scarcely believe that this was all real. Just a year ago, I’d been living on the Frontier of civilization, hunting escaped convicts. Now I was a soldier of the sixth level in the gods’ army and the lover of an angel.

  Tears pooled in my eyes, my heart swelling. Nero wiped the tears from my face, watching me closely, silently.

  His gaze was so intense, so…world-shattering. Yes, that was the word. He’d changed my whole life.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” I said, succumbing to my desperate need to fill the silence, to know what he was thinking.

  Nero looked me over, his hand tracing the curvature of my hip. “Your magic is so strong now. With each level that you gain, your magic magnifies. It’s intense, like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It is not a single strand or a single flavor or scent of magic. It’s not light or dark. It’s a rich, complex blend of both light and dark magic.”

  “So you want to eat me?” I teased him.

  “Each and every moment of every day,” he said solemnly, silver and gold swirls glowing inside his emerald eyes.

  My heart jumped a beat. “Ronan paid me a visit while you were gone.”

  The glow faded from his eyes, and they went hard. “Oh?”

  “He talked to me about magic and counter magic. It was his potion that helped me build up my telekinetic resistance.”

  “Be careful with Ronan,” Nero cautioned me. “He might be our ally, but he is still a god.”

  “Oh, I don’t trust him that much.” I paused, then added, “I talked to Jace too.”

  Nero continued to stroke his hand up and down my arm. “Did you?” He sounded perfectly calm, like a tiger right before it pounced and tore you to shreds.

  “Jace told me how his family has been trying for centuries to create offspring of perfectly balanced magical potential. Basically, they want all the magic without any of the counter magic.”

  He snorted. “They have certainly been trying. But sometimes the less you try, the better things turn out.”

  I wondered if he was thinking about his own parents, who had married for love rather than for duty—and had become the only two angels to ever have a child together.

  I glanced back, smiling. “Well, I think you turned out all right.”

  His brows arched. “All right?” he repeated, as though offended.

  “Spectacularly then,” I amended.

  He nodded. “Better.”

  Then he fell oddly quiet. His hand stroked my side absentmindedly, but his eyes were drifting. His mind was a million miles away.

  “Where are you, Nero?” I asked him.

  He met my gaze. “It’s been a long few days.”

  I saw the darkness in his eyes, the guilt. His people had died on the Memphis mission. But it wasn’t just guilt that I saw in him; it was anger and hunger for revenge against the people who’d engineered the massacre. The Pioneers.

  Unfortunately, the Legion Interrogators had gotten nothing useful from the prisoners we’d captured at Hardwicke’s fortress. We didn’t know who the Pioneers were, where they were, or what their end game was. That had left Nero with an enemy he longed to strike back against, but as it stood now, he had nothing to strike at but empty air. The Pioneers were nowhere and they were nothing. They were phantoms you couldn’t see or hit.

  “Gin and Tessa are among the kidnapped people still missing,” I said.

  My words drew him out of his own mind. “Frankly, I’m surprised Colonel Fireswift promoted you instead of locking you up as a potential traitor.”

  “Jace wanted to lock me up.”

  “And what did you say?”

  “I told him I wasn’t going to turn against the Legion. What I was going to do is hunt down the Pioneers and make them pay for everything they’ve done.”

  “You must have been convincing.”

  “You know, I really was,” I said. “It didn’t hurt that I put a little magic behind my speech.”

  “Cheating again, Pandora?”

  “Simply using the resources at my disposal,” I countered.

  “Good,” he said, his eyes twinkling with approval. “But grand speeches aside, Leda, you need to be prepared for the possibility that the Pioneers will try to use you. They might dangle your sisters’ lives in front of you in exchange for your cooperation.”

  “The Pioneers won’t kill Tessa and Gin. They didn’t take my sisters so they could control me. They took them for their magic.”

  Surprise flashed in Nero’s eyes. Apparently, he hadn’t realized they had magic either.

  “What kind of magic do they possess?” he asked me.

  “I don’t know. All we do know is that their magic is not of this world.”

  He frowned. “That is vague.”

  “I know. ‘Not of this world’ could mean any number of things,” I said. “But I think it means literally not-of-this-world. As in, magic we do not have on Earth, something from some other realm in the magical cosmos.” I paused. “We should ask Damiel.”

  Nero looked at me as though I’d suggested that we march off into the depths of hell and challenge a demon to a duel.

  “Damiel has traveled,” I continued. “He’s been around a lot. He has seen things none of us have, especially during his many years in hiding. He traveled to other worlds.”

  “I don’t question his knowledge but rather his intentions,” said Nero. “Are you sure you want to trust him with the information about your sisters being special?”

  “Haven’t we been through all of this already? Damiel is not our enemy. What he did—his time in hiding, staging his death before your eyes—was for you.”

  “Damiel might not be our enemy, but he is an angel,” Nero said. “He has a habit of using sensitive information against people. You don’t know what he will do with this knowledge, but you can be sure that he will do something. Information is a weapon, and my father wields it far too well.”

  “We have to trust some people,” I told him. “And hasn’t Damiel earned our trust?”

  “You know better than to trust an angel, Leda.”

  “You are an angel, and I trust you.”

  “I love you. I would move heaven and earth for you, so our interests are aligned.”

  I felt the sincerity ringing in his words, the passion and conviction resonating in his voice. Even his skin seemed to glow a bit brighter as he spoke. The raw, brutal romanticism of it all was almost enough to bring me to tears.

  “Then we need to make sure Damiel believes his interests are aligned with ours too,” I said. “And we’ll start with what it is that he wants most of all from us.”

  Nero nodded in approval. “Now you’re thinking like an angel.”

  23

  Web of Magic

  Damiel’s interests and ours were aligned as far as he needed us to help him find his wife Cadence. Locating her had been his mission, his purpose in life, since the two angels had been separated two centuries ago.

  And he knew Nero and I were his
best bet. Damiel’s magic alone was not strong enough to track Cadence. Even his bond to her couldn’t break through to the Guardians’ realm, but Nero had a bond to her as well. Born in blood, strengthened by magic, the bond of mother and son was a powerful one. Since becoming an archangel, Nero’s magic had only grown. If I became an angel, together these intersecting bonds that linked us all together would work in unison, the magic of each feeding off the others, building and culminating. Then we might just be powerful enough to break through the Guardians’ magic barrier to find Cadence and Zane.

  If Damiel wanted us to help him, he’d have to behave himself, and he knew it. We could trust him—at least as much as we could trust any angel.

  So the next day, we went to meet with the legendary Damiel Dragonsire. Nero had asked him to come to Chicago, but he hadn’t said why. To do so would have been a violation of the angel code of conduct, subsection ‘Power Plays’.

  Breaking that code completely, I’d invited Bella and Calli to the meeting, and Harker too. I didn’t question Harker’s loyalty, not after all he’d done for Bella. He was already keeping the secret of her origin; I knew he’d keep Tessa’s and Gin’s secrets as well.

  Besides, we would need all the help we could get if we were going to keep my little sisters safe—both from the Pioneers and from the Legion of Angels itself. The Legion was not above turning people into weapons. In fact, it did exactly that each and every day.

  We met with Damiel in an apartment building in the city. The angel was staying in the penthouse suite, of course. The elevator doors slid apart, and we stepped into a very extravagant, very modern open living room decked out in marble and gold. Floor-to-ceiling windows with a gorgeous panorama view of the whole city lay beyond the massive leather sofa. At least twenty people could have sat there and still had elbow room to spare.

  “Subtle,” I commented.

  Damiel came out into the kitchen, smiling. He was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of artfully torn jeans. His hair was slightly disheveled in a stylish, purposeful manner. It made him look casual, approachable, like someone you could trust.

  “I’m glad it pleases you,” he said with a bow.

  He continued to smile, waiting, his eyes twinkling with private delight. I had the sinking suspicion that he knew exactly what we were going to say. Maybe he did. He was telepathic after all. I’d been blocking my thoughts, but I wasn’t sure if Bella and Calli could do the same. Zane had always been too polite to read our thoughts without permission, but most angels possessed no such moral scruples.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard of the recent tragedy that has befallen the Legion in Memphis,” I said.

  “Yes. The Pioneers have been restless lately, their random acts of terror growing bolder each week. I told Nyx she should have had me hunt them down months ago.” Damiel looked at me, his bright blue eyes reflective. “Your sisters are among the Pioneer’s prisoners who are still missing.”

  He really did know everything that was going on at the Legion. I suppose it wasn’t surprising considering he used to be the head of the Interrogators.

  “You think this has something to do with your sisters’ special magic,” Damiel continued. “You think the Pioneers took them for the same reason the warlords hunted them all those years ago, when your foster mother Callista found them.”

  Calli folded her arms across her chest, giving Damiel the sort of look that, when I was younger, had prompted me to make myself scarce. Except Damiel was a several-hundred-year-old angel. He didn’t scare easily. He just countered her look with an amused one of his own.

  “You’re reading our minds.” Calli didn’t look happy about it.

  Damiel continued to smile. “Not this time. I’ve been watching the supernatural underworld for some time. I have focused especially on looking for sources of powerful magic.”

  To help him in his quest to find Cadence.

  “I first heard whispers of two very special girls many years ago, when the warlords of the Jaded Jungle were fighting over them,” said Damiel.

  “What do you know of their powers?” I asked him.

  “That they are supposed to be unlike anything in this world.”

  “So we’ve heard. But what does that mean?”

  “Your sisters come from other realms.”

  Just like I’d thought.

  “What kind of magic do they possess?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “The rumors weren’t that specific. After the warlords lost them, no one ever heard another thing about them. They just disappeared, as though they’d never existed. No one could find your sisters. Until now.”

  “Could you identify their magic if you saw it?”

  He gave me a smug look.

  Of course he could identify their magic. Sorry I’d ever doubted his supreme archangel majesty.

  “Can you help us find my sisters?” I asked.

  “Perhaps. Tracking is tricky magic, you see. There are so many people on Earth, so many streams of magic. It’s all very busy, very crowded.”

  “But it’s not a problem for a legendary Tracker like you.”

  Damiel chuckled. “Nero told you about that, did he?”

  Nero had told me that Damiel was the best Tracker there was. He was the best Tracker and the best Interrogator. He could hunt down anyone the Legion wanted to find and extract any information out of them.

  That’s how he’d managed to stay hidden for so long. It’s how he’d staged his apparent death and covered his tracks. He’d put on a very convincing show, right in front of Nero’s eyes. Sooner or later, all archangels developed special powers above and beyond the Legion’s usual magic spectrum. Damiel’s unique combination of magic, his skills as a Tracker and an Interrogator, had allowed him to maintain the charade that he was dead for centuries.

  “Nero is always so eager to boast about his old man,” he said with a warm smile.

  Nero gave him a flat look. “Yes, all the time. To anyone and everyone who will listen.” His tone was as dry as sandpaper.

  I almost laughed.

  Damiel did laugh, and it was a good-natured one at that. He patted Nero hard on the back, then looked at me. “I can help you find your sisters. I can’t promise it won’t hurt, however.”

  “Whatever it takes,” I said to him. “I don’t bruise easily.”

  Damiel laughed again, and this time it was me that he slapped on the back. Maybe I’d spoke too soon because his friendly slap had bruised me down to the bone.

  “Leda,” Damiel said, motioning for me to give him my hand.

  I did. Then Damiel looked at Nero, holding out his other hand. Nero set his hand in his father’s.

  “Now you two link hands,” Damiel instructed us.

  The moment we all linked, a shock of power surged through me, up and down my arms, like I’d just grabbed a lightning bolt. As the magic burned through me, crumbling my defenses to ash, my heart raced so hard that I thought it might explode. Blotches danced in front of my eyes. My vision was going dark. Blackness swallowed me.

  Hold on, Leda, Nero said in my mind, his voice a tether in the darkness. It will get better.

  The pain will go away? I asked hopefully.

  No, the pain never goes away. You just get used to it.

  I choked out a laugh.

  Lying to you won’t make it hurt less, Nero said sensibly.

  That’s one of the things I loved about Nero. I could always count on him not to bullshit me.

  Like you would tolerate anyone bullshitting you.

  I laughed again. Gods, I loved him. And he was right. I was getting used to the pain. The pounding, excruciating, mind-splitting agony was dulling into a distant but persistent thump. My vision was improving too. I could see Nero now. We stood side-by-side, two bright spots inside a sea of blackness.

  “Excellent,” Damiel’s voice penetrated the darkness. “Now if you two lovebirds are finished playing footsie beneath the abyss, let’s get started.” He faded into sight, a third bright
spot in the deep black sea. “I’m using my blood connection to Nero, who is connected to you, Leda, through your bond. And you are connected to Calli and Bella and to your little sisters. You’re the focal point, Leda, the prism through which all our magic connects.”

  So that’s why it hurt so much. The magic of two archangels was tearing through me like a river of raging rapids.

  “A web of magic is stronger than a single strand,” Damiel said. “We will use it to locate your sisters. Your link to your sisters will boost my and Nero’s telepathic range.”

  It was the same trick Nero and I planned to use to find my brother and his mother once I had gained the power of Ghost’s Whisper.

  “Your brother and Cadence are no longer on Earth,” Damiel said, picking up on my thoughts. “It requires a lot more magic to breach dimensions and cross worlds. Your sisters are, however, on Earth.”

  “Yes. I can feel them,” I said excitedly, a familiar feeling washing over me. I could sense Gin and Tessa. They felt so close, like I could reach out and touch them.

  “Keep calm,” Damiel told me. “Don’t pull too hard on your connection to them. Too much tension will make the strands of the link snap.”

  I glanced down and realized I was tugging hard on two interwoven strands, two ribbons glowing with magic. One was gold-red. The other was silver-blue. When I touched the braided ribbons of magic, I felt feedback, a hum, a musical note against my skin. Somehow, I could feel that the gold-red one was Gin and the silver-blue one was Tessa. I followed the ribbons with my mind.

  Scenes flashed past almost faster than I could process them. I saw mercenaries taking Gin and Tessa in Purgatory, grabbing them along with the other teenagers. Later, in a dark room, a cloaked mercenary handed my sisters over to a Pioneer leader. I dove into the mind of the Pioneer, fast-forwarding in time to a large, underground room. Flames licked the hearths of twelve fireplaces. The red light flickered and sizzled, casting shadows across the backs of the twelve men who’d convened there, one standing in front of each fireplace.

  “Hardwicke’s mercenaries have taken another forty prisoners from towns along the Frontier,” said one of the men. Like all the others, his face was shrouded in darkness.