by Ella Summers
I stuttered out a jumbled, incoherent response.
“That was not a very convincing rebuttal,” he told me.
As though I didn’t already know that.
“Let’s get going before another monster horde decides to march across the Sienna Sea,” I said.
He extended his hand toward the red expanse before us. “After you.”
Right. Because he didn’t want me behind him. Just in case I tried to stab him in the back.
I started running. As we moved across the wasteland, only the crunch of the shifting gravel beneath our boots broke the eerie silence. My head, however, was buzzing with a million agitated thoughts.
As a child, I’d aspired to be the perfect daughter. In the Legion, I’d tried to be the perfect initiate—and later the perfect soldier. And now the perfect angel.
Suffice it to say, that last one wasn’t working out at all so far. I was tripping over my feet as surely as I was over my tongue. This certainly was not how I’d pictured my first mission as an angel. Not at all.
Magic wrapped around me, hot and hard. The Master Interrogator was not a subtle man.
“Would you mind turning down your magic? I’m practically getting a sunburn over here,” I said.
“You are fireproof. You can’t get a sunburn, especially not from a telepathic scan.”
“Why are you in my head?” I demanded. “Again.”
“It’s my job to keep an eye on your loyalties,” he replied, completely unapologetic. “If that means I catch a peek at your…fantasies…” A dark smile flitted across his face. “Well, that’s just how it is.”
I stopped in my tracks. “What fantasies?”
“Of me,” he said casually, turning to face me. “You should remember. It all played out inside your head.”
“I am not fantasizing about you.”
“There’s no reason to be embarrassed. It’s perfectly normal. Most women can’t help themselves around me.”
I tried to formulate an appropriately witty retort, but I had no antidote for that kind of arrogance. So I just threw my hands up in the air and said, “You’re unbelievable.”
“Not now, sweetheart,” he said, his voice a dangerous caress. “We’re working. But when the mission is over, you will have my undivided attention.”
First, he was sure I was a traitor. Then he wanted to recruit me. And now he was trying to seduce me.
“When this mission is over, sweetheart, you will be marrying Eva,” I reminded him.
He chuckled. “My dear, sweet, innocent Cadence. That marriage was arranged by the Legion. It’s not about love. It is about procreation, about making future soldiers with the potential to become angels. Hardly any Legion soldier trapped in an arranged marriage is monogamous.”
“Be that as it may, that’s not the life for me. I have no intention of being just another warm body you drag into a closet for a quickie when you have an itch to scratch.”
“Who said anything about it being quick?” he said with a dark, sexy twist of his lips. “And for the record, I am not in the habit of ducking into closets. Though, if that’s how you like it, I will endeavor to satisfy your fantasies.”
There was that word again. Heat scorched my cheeks.
His hand captured my chin as the other slowly stroked down my face. “So sweet.” He leaned in closer, his voice dipping lower. “When I’m done with you, my sweet flower, your cheeks won’t be the only part of you that’s flushed.”
Heat bloomed deep inside of me, my body responding to the raw, unfiltered eroticism of his words. I felt flushed, dizzy, my legs quivering even as his hand curled around my waist.
“You are a singularly unique angel.” His lips brushed lightly against mine, a tempting whisper of a kiss.
“Colonel—”
“Call me Damiel.”
I couldn’t understand why the invitation to use his first name pleased me. It should have scared me shitless. Anyone in their right mind would have panicked the moment the Master Interrogator’s arms locked around them.
His human teeth nuzzled my neck. “I bet you taste heavenly.”
The soft flash of his descending fangs echoed in my ears. Unlike vampires, Legion soldiers did not require blood for sustenance. Drinking another’s blood allowed us to heal. It was also a powerful aphrodisiac.
It obviously wasn’t healing that was on Damiel’s mind right now.
“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t try to seduce me,” I rasped, my pulse pounding against the teasing caress of his fangs.
“I’ve changed my mind.”
“Why?”
“I don’t believe you have the capacity to betray anyone.”
“How very unlike an Interrogator.” I struggled to concentrate as his mouth nuzzled the pulsing vein in my neck. “According to your mantra, everyone has the potential to betray anyone. And that bundle of potential is just waiting for the right circumstances, for the stars to align just so. And then—bam!—it goes off like a bomb.”
“That sounds like something I would say.”
“You did say exactly that. It’s a direct quote lifted from one of the Legion’s old newsletters.”
His hand parted my legs, tracing up the inside of my thigh.
“Stop it,” I said. It came out as more of a moan than a protest.
He chuckled against my neck. “Try again.”
I reminded myself that I was an angel, not some starry-eyed initiate. I stepped back, putting some distance between us. “I’m not going to sleep with you, Damiel.”
“Is that so?” Amusement danced in his eyes.
“Yes.”
“You are fascinating.” He captured a strand of my golden hair between his fingers. “Different than anyone I’ve ever known.”
I batted his hand away. “Is that what you tell all the women you try to seduce?”
“No. Lies are so tiresome.”
“Even the little white lies?”
“Especially the little white lies. I interrogate liars every day. I have no desire to allow those lies to carry over into my personal life.”
Personal life? Could it be that I’d been wrong about him? Did he have a life outside the job? Did he have friends? Interrogators were such solitary soldiers.
“Yes,” he agreed. “We are.”
I set my hands on his shoulders, the hint of pain in his voice compelling me to comfort him.
Damiel caught my hands. “Your skin is so soft. So perfect.” His thumbs massaged deep circles into my palms. “These aren’t the hands of a soldier.”
I tried to pull away, but he had an iron grip.
“You’re very clever, Cadence. Your file is one success story after the other, picking up magic with almost effortless ease, never failing to do exactly what was expected of you.”
I thought he might be mocking me for being such an overachiever—just as others had mocked me my whole life—but there was no edge to his voice. And there was only admiration in his eyes when he spoke this time.
“You can’t imagine how exhausting it is to always seek out the worst in everyone, to unearth people’s dirty little secrets. To hunt for the darkest, most horrible failings of human nature hidden beneath a false facade. But you… You’re…real.”
There was something so raw about the way he said it.
“I’m not interested in a quick, meaningless dalliance. I want more,” he told me. “There’s something between us, Cadence. Some force drawing us together. I know you can feel it too.”
I shook my head, not trusting my words. The truth was, I did feel it. Something was drawing us together, a force stronger than magic. I couldn’t explain the feeling any more than I could shake it.
His hand softly brushed my cheek, and I jumped.
“You’re wound up, and it’s distracting you.” His brows lifted, his eyes drinking me in. “I don’t want to go into battle with someone who’s so tense. That will get us both killed.”
“I can’t believe you’re using that a
s an excuse to get into my pants.”
“Into your pants, skirt, whatever. I’m not all that picky about what you wear.” The corner of his lip curled up. “Though I am partial to lace.”
I backed away from him. “This is crazy. You just met me. You don’t know anything about me.”
He shrugged. “I’ve read your file. And I’m good at assessing people.”
“Assess?” I spat the word. “This isn’t a job interview, Damiel. You want me to be your lover. What if you hate the way that I eat? What if you hate the way that I kiss?”
Featherlight, he traced his finger across my lips. “I’m certain there is no danger of that.”
“You’re engaged to someone else.”
“A work marriage. An obligation. It won’t be long before you have a similar obligation. They mean nothing.” He lifted my hand to his mouth, and his lips brushed against my skin. “You see each other for a few days every decade or so, do your duty to make new potential angels, and then go back to your separate lives.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that,” he confirmed.
I shook my head. “I couldn’t do that.”
“Of course you could. You are the perfect soldier. It’s a compulsion with you, Cadence. Being perfect. When the Legion’s scientists find a magically-compatible soldier, you will marry your magical match and do your duty. There’s nothing in your record to suggest you would ever defy the Legion’s mandates.”
I scowled at him. “Now you are mocking me.”
“No,” he said seriously. “I’m not. In fact, I find your company a welcome change from my usual encounters with other angels. With you, it’s not about machinations and manipulations. It’s not about hidden agendas and plays for dominance. You are exactly what you appear to be. Being around you is…nice.”
He said it like he’d never had occasion to use the word before.
“You keep mentioning my file,” I said. “Once again, you have me at a disadvantage. You’ve read my file, but I’ve never read yours.”
“Indeed.”
I could see it in his eyes that this was just the way he liked it. He would have as surely cut off his own hand as he would yield the upper ground.
“You say you like that I don’t play games. That I don’t hide things. Well, you do,” I told him. “Relationships aren’t built on uneven footing, Damiel.”
His brows drew together. “It is not in my nature to expose myself. The last time…” He shook his head.
“What happened?”
“We must hurry if we’re to make it to Darkstorm’s fortress before dark,” he declared, then took off running again.
I followed, keeping pace beside him. He’d put up a wall around himself, a shield that would not let anyone in. I felt bad for him. What rare glimpses I’d caught of Damiel—the real Damiel under all the arrogant angel trimmings—showed a man in pain. He wasn’t the evil, soulless bastard everyone made him out to be.
If only he’d let that part of him out instead of keeping him prisoner, then things might be different between us. But that seemed unlikely. In the blink of an eye, Damiel was back to being Colonel Dragonsire, Master Interrogator and cold, merciless angel with the power to lock up anyone he so much as suspected of treason.
I couldn’t allow myself to develop feelings for him. I ran faster, eager to make it to Darkstorm’s fortress and get this mission over with. The sooner we rescued Eva and got back to civilization, the sooner I could return to my life. A life without Damiel Dragonsire—and all the danger that came with him.
9
Pirate Lord of the Sienna Sea
Several hours later, we reached the fortress of Hugo Darkstorm, rogue dark angel and the self-proclaimed Pirate Lord of the Sienna Sea.
Some warlords liked to play king and build a medieval castle in the middle of the wilderness. Darkstorm had built himself a modern military base that consisted of a dozen different buildings. High stone walls surrounded the base in some places, high metal fences in others.
“Look at that magic,” I commented to Damiel, pointing at the golden shimmer that coated the fortress’s outer walls and fences.
We stood just outside the base, my magic cloaking us from the guards’ eyes. Without my shifting spell, the lookouts on the walls would have spotted us in two seconds. Our silhouettes really stood out against the empty red expanse.
“Darkstorm must have stolen a Magitech generator,” said Damiel. “One went missing last month from the production plant outside Los Angeles. I bet he used that stolen generator as a model to construct a few more for himself.”
“This base is huge. It would take at least three Magitech generators to create that barrier,” I agreed. “The barrier extends over the top of the base as well. That would keep out flying monsters. And angels.”
Damiel was staring intently at the barrier.
“You’re considering overpowering it,” I guessed.
“What do you think?”
“I think the power on that barrier is too high. We’d exhaust our magic long before it went out.”
“You are underestimating the magic of an angel. And there are two of us.”
“Ok, so say we have enough magic to bring down the barrier,” I replied. “And say Darkstorm’s guards stood idly by and let us bombard the barrier continuously until we brought it down. Because, yes, they would have to stand there and do absolutely nothing. I can’t slam my magic against the barrier and keep us hidden at the same time.”
Amusement tugged at Damiel’s lower lip.
“Even if we did all that and got the barrier down, the guards wouldn’t stand by as we rushed into their fortress. Our magic would be so depleted that we wouldn’t last five minutes against the guards. There have to be…” I scanned the walls, counting the visible guards, sizing up the base to get an idea of how many people might be inside. “… at least two hundred guards in there.”
“Our latest reports put Darkstorm’s recruits at just over two-hundred-and-fifty,” said Damiel. “His numbers have swelled in the last month.”
“Even better. We and our depleted magic would have to fight through two-hundred-and-fifty guards. And then, if we by some miracle survived and made it through to Darkstorm, we’d have to fight a dark angel—with little or no magic left in us, no less. And what if as soon as we made a big boom blasting through the front doors, Darkstorm decided to kill his prisoner before we could rescue her? It’s a suicide mission.”
Damiel nodded. “Good.”
“Good that it’s a suicide mission?”
“Good that you recognize it for what it is. New angels have a tendency to allow their holy magnificence to overpower their reasoning skills. They get cocky. And then they might get dead.”
“This was a test, wasn’t it?”
“Everything is a test.”
“Nyx put you up to this,” I realized. “She asked you to watch me, to make sure she hadn’t turned a moron into an angel.”
“No one ever thought you were a moron. In fact, all of your commanding officers have had nothing but praise for your level-headedness and sound reasoning skills.”
“Let me guess. It’s all in my file,” I said drily.
“Indeed it is,” he said with far too much cheer for an Interrogator.
“Is Eva even in this fortress, or was that just a lie to try to stir up irrationality in me?”
“I told you, Cadence. I abhor lies. You will get nothing but the truth from me.”
“Just because you tell the truth, that doesn’t mean you can’t withhold information.”
Angels excelled at that, after all.
He gave me a sharp, approving nod. “Very good.”
I froze the emerging smile on my lips. When had I come to care what the Master Interrogator thought of me? That was a dangerous game, one I was pretty much assured to lose.
“Major Doren is in there,” Damiel told me. “Darkstorm abducted her from Storm Castle, just as Nyx told you.”
“We’re unsure. Darkstorm killed Colonel Starfire, who would have made the more valuable prisoner, but he captured Major Doren. It’s possible he saw Colonel Starfire as a threat, as someone standing in the way of his plans. Colonel Starfire was a formidable angel. And his will was strong. He wasn’t someone who would have been easy to turn to his side.”
I cringed at Damiel’s use of the past tense, a reminder that Colonel Starfire was dead. An angel was dead. We might have been immortal, but we were not invulnerable.
“From all accounts, Major Doren is as hard-willed as her commander,” Damiel continued. “In her twenty-seven years with the Legion, she’s been captured seven times, including by the Dark Force three years ago. She hasn’t broken once.”
The Dark Force, hell’s army, employed methods that made the Legion’s Interrogators seem mild by comparison.
“If Darkstorm captured Major Doren in the hopes of using her to gain control over Storm Castle, he will find that no easy task,” said Damiel.
“You think that’s why Darkstorm took Eva: to gain control over Storm Castle.”
“Taking control over Storm Castle has been the demons’ recurring ploy since they lost the war. It is one of Earth’s Seven Magical Wonders. It’s feasible that Darkstorm has decided to take control of it himself. Or that he never really left the Dark Force and his desertion has been nothing but misdirection. In either case, our mission remains the same.”
Damiel was so perpetually suspicious, so unwaveringly thorough. He questioned every possibility, tracked down every whispered rumor. It must have been exhausting to be him.
“Sometimes,” he admitted, answering my unasked question.
“So what do we do next?”
“You tell me.”
“Is this another test?”
He folded his arms across his chest and waited. Right, everything was a test.
“I will go in through the front door,” I decided.
“I’m coming with you.”
I shook my head. “No, you’re too famous. That place is full of criminals, outlaws who flaunt the gods’ justice. Chances are you’ve interrogated at least some of them.”
