by Ella Summers
“What are your plans for Leda?” Nero countered.
They stared at each other, neither answering the other.
I helped myself to some pudding. Pudding for breakfast? This was my kind of place.
“You know, this is just what the demons want: for us to be fighting amongst ourselves,” I told them. “A divided enemy is easily conquered. United, we are stronger.”
Nero’s gaze didn’t waver from Ronan. “Unity requires trust, Leda.”
“It also requires forgiveness. On all sides. Secrets and lies are what tore us apart. Well, I say, no more!” I tapped my fingers across the tabletop. “We’re each going to share a secret with each of the people here.”
Nero shook his head slowly. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“Nonsense!” I said brightly. “It’s an excellent idea. We need to throw down all our weapons. We need to bare our souls. And someone has to take the first step.” I glanced at Harker. “I think we could use some privacy, don’t you think?”
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Leda.” He tossed his magic orb into the air, casting a privacy spell over the room.
“I do,” I assured him, then looked at Nyx and Ronan. “I know why you stole the weapons of heaven and hell from Nero. You thought you could use them to protect the Earth from the demons. At the time, you didn’t realize that only I could wield them.”
Jace stopped eating. He just stared at me.
“You knew,” I told him. “You knew that I’d charged the sword before you swung it at the demon.”
“Yes, I knew,” he said quietly. “And I took credit for it.” He frowned, his face marred with guilt.
“Trust me, you did me a favor.” My gaze panned across everyone seated at the table. “Trust. That’s what we need—and far more than we need immortal artifacts or secret weapons. Trust is our sword, and it is our shield. The lies that exist between us are walls, closing us off from one another, sabotaging our unity, making us weak.”
As I rose to my feet, Nero caught my hand. He looked at me like he knew what I was going to do—and he didn’t like it one bit.
I smiled at him. “It’s ok. We have to do this. We cannot be divided. We must be honest. We must forgive so we can work together.” I glanced at Nyx. “For the greater good.”
She kept her gaze turned away from Ronan, unable to let go of her pain.
“There’s a reason only I can wield the weapons of heaven and hell,” I told Jace. Then I paused, preparing myself for the words I had to speak. “Because, of everyone, only I am of both heaven and hell.”
“You’re the one,” Jace said, his eyes wide. “The daughter of Faris, the God of Heaven’s Army and Grace, the Demon of Faith.”
I nodded. “I am.”
“That’s why your magic is so different. Why you are so different.”
“I’d like to think I’m the master of my own destiny. Yes, my magic comes from my parents, but I alone decide what kind of person I want to be. I am the bearer of my own moral compass.”
Jace was quiet for a while. “You always did navigate by your own compass,” he finally said.
Nero hadn’t been reaching for his sword. His body hadn’t even tensed. But through the magic that linked us, I’d felt his battle readiness. At Jace’s words, he went off high alert. He’d now realized what I had recognized about Jace, that he was a good and loyal friend. That he would stand with me, not betray me.
“And everyone here already knew about this?” Jace looked around at the others seated around our table.
“Yes,” I confirmed.
“I’m always the last to know about anything important,” he sighed.
“Not the last,” I told him. “Your father doesn’t know, and we need to keep it that way. He wouldn’t understand.”
“You’re right. He wouldn’t.” A dark shadow fell across Jace’s face. “And I won’t tell him.”
“Thank you.” I turned my gaze on Ronan and Nyx now. “We hid a lot of things from you. Some of them you’ve discovered, such as Damiel’s survival and how we recovered the weapons of heaven and hell. Others you do not know.”
Nero didn’t try to stop me from confessing my secrets. He’d learned to trust me, even when I had crazy ideas.
“I would have left,” I told Nyx. “If Nero hadn’t come back in time, or if our magic hadn’t been compatible, I would have left the Legion rather than marry anyone else. What the Legion does is important to me—keeping the people of Earth safe is important to me—but I just couldn’t have done it. I couldn’t be with anyone else. That sacrifice would have been too much to ask.”
“I know,” she said. “And I’m glad it worked out.”
“It worked out for me and for the Legion.”
“Indeed,” she agreed.
“Do you know how Faris is always ahead of the rest of the gods?” I asked Ronan. “Do you know how he always comes out on top?”
Ronan’s response was immediate and without doubt. “Because he’s planned every move centuries in advance, and he has a chorus of telepaths to uncover others’ secrets.”
“That’s part of it, but it’s not all of it. That’s how he wins the big battles, but it’s not how he wins the little ones, the simple, small conversations where he always seems to end up on top. Neither scheming or telepaths help him there. The truth of it is Faris wins because you and the other gods let him.”
Ronan stiffened. “We most certainly do not.”
“You do,” I told him. “You don’t know it, but you are doing just that. I’ve watched you all. I was there when the gods’ council declared they were taking over the Crystal Falls training. I watched as you fought over secrets and lies. I heard you speak with Faris before you confronted Sonja and Ava. Faris has a knack for getting under everyone’s skin, for seeing everyone for what they truly are, for exploiting their weaknesses and negating their strengths. He does it with every word that he says, every movement of his eyes.”
Ronan seemed to be mulling that over. His eyes shifted back and forth like he was scrolling through millennia of interactions with Faris. “You’re right,” he finally declared.
“Of course I am. Because I possess the very same ability,” I confessed.
Ronan nodded. “You might possess some of Faris’s abilities, but you are not Faris. You do not share his failings.”
“Who is Faris really? He’s wrapped himself in so many layers of deception, played games for so long, that I don’t think anyone knows what lies beneath it all.”
“Indeed,” agreed Ronan.
I turned to Harker—and my next confession. “Earlier this year, when some mystery person rearranged the books in your office in reverse alphabetical order…yeah, that was me.”
He rolled his eyes. “That’s hardly a secret, Leda.”
I frowned. “How did you figure it out?”
“Rearranging all my books in reverse alphabetical order must have taken hours. No one else at the Legion is that dedicated and systematic in their implementation of chaos.”
“Ok, well…hmm… The only other confession I have for you is I arranged for you to sit next to Bella at my wedding reception.” I smirked at him. “So don’t screw it up.” I moved on to Damiel. “As for you, I must confess that you scare the hell out of me.”
Damiel nodded, his smile serene. “Thank you.”
What a response. Then again, I wasn’t the least bit surprised.
“But you also make the world’s best pancakes,” I continued. “And Nero thinks so too.”
Damiel glanced at his son.
“This is supposed to be your confession, Pandora,” said Nero.
I smiled at him. “What’s yours is mine, honey.”
Harker coughed, in a totally transparent attempt to cover a laugh. Nero gave us both his best angel stare.
“The reason I keep visiting you at your apartment is to watch how you make the pancakes, so I can learn to make them for Nero,” I told Damiel.
“And how’s
that working out for you?” Damiel’s expression was mild, almost amused. Maybe archangels mellowed with age.
“How’s it working out? Not well,” I admitted. “My pancakes don’t taste the same as yours. I don’t understand. I watched every thing you put into the batter. I noted how much you used of every ingredient. I witnessed how you mixed the batter. I perfectly mimicked how you fried them. I even measured the diameter of the pancakes. But there’s something missing. Something different.”
Damiel’s smile had reached his eyes. “You will just need to keep visiting me until you find out.”
“You knew,” I said, the heavy weight of the realization flattening me. “You knew I was trying to copy the recipe, and somehow you made sure I wouldn’t figure it out.”
Angels took sleight of hand to a whole new level.
“This is my confession to you, Leda. I knew that once you figured out my secret pancake recipe, you wouldn’t visit me anymore.”
“Maybe I would.”
“Because you enjoy me scaring the hell out of you?”
“No, you crazy angel. Because you’re family.”
“Family.” He blinked. Apparently, he hadn’t considered that family was more important to me than my own fear. “But as family, you could have just asked me for the recipe.”
I laughed. “Damiel might be family, but General Dragonsire is an angel. And I know better than to ask an angel for a favor, especially an archangel.”
“You have come a long way.” Damiel nodded in approval. “You’ve learned a lot. And I really enjoy our visits. So if you promise to continue visiting me, I’ll promise to give you the pancake recipe. That’s a deal even you can live with.”
“I agree.”
He pulled out his phone and hastily typed out something on it. A moment later, my phone dinged, hopefully signaling the arrival of the famous pancake recipe in my inbox.
I reached out my hand to take Nero’s. “There are no secrets between us. You know that. So the best confession I can offer to you is that the cut of your shirt makes me want to tear it off you right now.”
“I know. That’s why I wore it.” His eyes smoldered. “And that is my confession to you.”
Like father, like son. They were knocking out their confessions with masterful efficiency.
Nero squeezed my hand. “Because I have no secrets from you either, Leda.”
“Oh, I don’t know. You have a few small secrets you could share, I’m sure. For instance, you could tell me what you’re getting me for my final gift.”
His brows lifted.
“I already have the complete weapons of heaven and hell, but there’s still another day before the wedding. And another gift.”
“I had no idea you were so materialistic.”
“I’m not…I…I just…Nerissa said you’d bring me a gift every day. And I’m just so terribly curious.”
“Your magic tingles so beautifully against mine when you’re flustered,” he chuckled, so low that if we’d been surrounded by humans, no one would have heard him.
“So glad to amuse you.”
“I’m not amused, Leda.”
The way his eyes, silver and gold swirling inside those emerald depths, bore into me backed up his words. No, he wasn’t amused; he was aroused. And so was I. It flashed through me, hot and hard and persistent, devouring me inside and out. It was two days until our wedding night. It might as well have been three centuries.
“Switch places with Nero,” Nyx instructed Harker.
Nero’s eyes never left mine, even as he and Harker exchanged places at the table.
A shiver rippled down my spine. “You never answered my question,” I told him.
“You’ll have to wait and see what it is. It’s a surprise.”
“I love surprises.” I curled a lock of hair around my finger. “Well, besides the whole agonizing wait part.”
“And you’ll love this one,” he promised me.
“Give me a tiny hint?”
“Absolutely not.” He looked offended.
“Give me a hint about my presents, and I’ll give you a hint about my wedding lingerie.”
He mulled that over. “No,” he finally decided. “I like surprises too.”
I flashed him a grin. “You will really like this one. The lingerie has a…”
I allowed my voice to trail off. I could see his eyes moving, his mind clearly working to decipher the rest.
“You will tell me,” he said, his voice ringing with the resounding note of command.
I laughed. “No.”
“Yes.” The word hit me like a hammer. “You will.”
“Or what?” I challenged, planting my hands on my hips. I even gave my booty a sultry sway.
He opened his mouth to answer, his tongue tracing his lower lip.
“That’s quite enough from both of you,” Nyx snapped.
Nero leaned back in his chair.
I took my seat again. “It’s your turn, General.”
“To confess?”
“It’s healthy for the soul. And only when we’ve laid everything out on the table, only when we’ve shared our secrets with one another, can we be truly united. Once that is done, no secrets will be able to divide us as they did the gods’ council because we’ve already shared everything with one another.”
“As you wish.” His confession to me already made, he turned to Harker. “On the first day of training when we were initiates, I was the one who misplaced all your training clothes.”
“I already knew that, Nero. One of our trainers caught you in the act. He chastised us both in front of the whole group—you for playing the prank, me for being unable to defend my own stuff.”
“Typical Legion,” I commented. “Punish the victims along with the perpetrators to make them all stronger.”
“Your husband-to-be was a real ass back in the day,” Harker told me. “He and the other Legion brats. But he got better with time.”
“No, I didn’t,” said Nero. “I’m still the same ass I was two hundred years ago.”
They both laughed.
“So that is your confession?” Harker asked him.
“No. As you said, you already knew that. My confession is not that I stole your clothes, but that I made sure I got caught doing it.”
Harker’s face was utterly perplexed. “Why would you do that?”
“The Legion brats were annoying me, egging me on to prank you. They saw your talent and hated you for it, especially because of your humble origins. They demanded that, as the pedigree of two angels, as the top of the top, it was my duty to show you your place.”
I glanced at Jace. “Sounds familiar.”
“Yeah.” His fellow Legion brats had often pushed him to act like that too.
“I wanted to get caught so I had an excuse to tell them when they pushed me to do things later: I’d been caught, and I didn’t want that on my record, to be known as a silly prankster,” Nero said. “But there was another reason too. I knew we’d be punished together, and I wanted to get to know you. I knew you were worth more than any of them, that you’d be something. And that you’d make a good friend.”
I sniffled, my throat choking up with emotion.
Harker considered me. “What’s this? The badass Pandora is crying?”
“It’s just so sweet,” I sobbed. “The birth of a beautiful friendship.”
Harker and Nero exchanged glances, then they patted each other on the shoulder, hard and manly.
Nero looked at Damiel. “You were not a particularly good father.”
“You’re supposed to share a secret, Nero, not something everyone already knows.”
“You were not a particularly good father,” Nero repeated. “But I did not want to kill you. It plagued me long after I’d done it. And when I learned that I hadn’t truly killed you, that you had staged the whole thing, I was relieved.”
Damiel’s smirk faded.
“Of course, when I found you alive, I was angry at
you too,” Nero added. “I was ready to kill you again if you endangered Leda.”
Neither of them said anything. They just looked at each other. There were no back slaps this time. No humor. There was only the unspoken, intangible connection between father and son.
“You asked me what my plans are for the weapons of heaven and hell,” Nero spoke to Nyx and Ronan now. “I gave them to Leda so she can fight off anyone who might try to do her harm or use her for her magic.”
The way he looked at them made it clear he really meant anyone, gods and demigods included.
“We’re supposed to be fostering unity,” I sighed. “Is it really necessary to threaten one another?”
“Yes, Leda.” Nero didn’t take his eyes off Nyx and Ronan. “As long as they are trying to coerce you, threats are absolutely necessary.”
“I’m not going to coerce you, Leda,” Nyx said. “I don’t even think it’s possible. I’d much rather work with you. We are on the same team. We have the same goal.”
“You see, that’s what I’ve been saying,” I told everyone at the table. “We cannot allow petty things to break us all apart, as they fractured the gods’ council. We need to be united, to promise one another that we will stand together. Because only then can we hope to protect the Earth and its people, as well as everyone on all the worlds left broken by this immortal war. Discord is what tore the universe apart. Unity will bring it back together.”
“Good speech.” Nero’s eyes twinkled with a hint of insurgency. “You’d make an excellent First Angel.”
I smirked at Nyx. “I heard the job’s already taken. But I’d settle for First Angel of the Plains of Monsters.”
Nyx laughed.
“Trust has to start somewhere,” I told Nero.
“But are you sure you can trust them?” His gaze flickered to Nyx and Ronan, then back to me again.
“Yeah, I really do. It’s not in their best interests to betray us. Not anymore.”
That’s one useful thing I’d inherited from Faris, the ability to see through the bullshit.
“Very well,” Nero agreed, then glanced at Jace. “There’s something you should know about the archangel trials your father will be facing.” His gaze slid over to Ronan. “But it is not my secret to tell.”