by Ella Summers
“That is indeed a distinct possibility.”
“If they recognize you, they’ll sound the alarm, and this will all be over before it starts,” I said. “You wait out here. I’m going in.”
He waited for me to elaborate on my plan. Test indeed. It felt more like he was watching me tie my own noose.
“Darkstorm is recruiting followers fast.” I shrugged off my leather jacket and handed it to Damiel. Dressed down to my shorts, tank top, and boots, there was nothing about me that outed me as a Legion soldier. “I’m just the latest recruit arrived to join the cause.”
Damiel looked me up and down—from my braided blonde hair, to my dusty boots. He was probably trying to decide if I could pass for a hardened criminal.
Finally, he nodded. I wasn’t sure how I felt about passing his assessment.
“If I can get to the generator controls, I think I can open a small hole in the barrier,” I said.
“A small hole,” he repeated.
“If I make one that’s too big, one that compromises the barrier’s integrity, the alarms will go off and guards will swarm us.”
Even if everything went perfectly to plan, I wouldn’t have much time once I got onto the base. I had to move quickly before I attracted too much attention to myself.
“How small?”
I pulled myself out of my thoughts and looked at Damiel. “Hmm?”
“The hole. How small will the hole be?”
“Small. Not much wider than your shoulders,” I told him. “You’ll have to squeeze in. Without touching the active barrier.”
He looked at me like I’d just asked him to wrestle one of those flying dinosaurs—and to do it naked.
“Oh, and since the Magitech energy ripples are like waves on the ocean, swirling around, the hole won’t be stationary,” I added.
“So, in summary, you want me to run at a Magitech barrier and squeeze through a moving target hardly big enough for my body.”
“Yes, basically.”
Damiel shot the barrier a seething glare.
“This time you’re seriously contemplating bringing down the whole barrier, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
I patted his shoulder. “There’s no need to worry, Colonel. I do this all the time.”
“Sneak onto rogue dark angels’ heavily-fortified military bases?”
“Ah, no. I’ve never actually done that,” I said. “I meant, reprogramming Magitech barriers.”
“During your recent mission in Amsterdam, you worked on creating a Magitech barrier that could function even when fully submerged in water.”
“The goal was to create a barrier that could keep out marine monsters.”
“And you succeeded.”
“Of course,” I said with an inscrutable lift of my brows, giving him a taste of his own arrogance.
His eyes twinkled.
“But you already knew that,” I said.
It was yet another fragment he’d read from my file. He knew the story of my life, and all I knew about him was that he tortured criminals for a living. A little something more would be nice. Like his favorite color. Or his favorite food.
“I like pancakes.”
I blinked at him, sure I’d heard him wrong. “What?”
“That’s my favorite food.”
The Master Interrogator’s favorite food was pancakes? Who would have guessed that?
“I’d have thought you were more of a truffles and saffron kind of guy,” I said.
“One cannot live on spices and garnishes alone.”
“You know what I mean.”
“You mean pretentious food.”
“I was going for gourmet, but, sure, pretentious works too.”
“I like pancakes because they’re not trying to be anything else. They do not need to be interpreted or deciphered. They know what they are and are perfectly happy with their place in the world.”
He sounded serious. Like this was a matter of life or death.
“Plus, pancakes are delicious,” I said.
“When I make them, yes, they really are.” There was the angel in him again.
I laughed. “I should get going now. I have a date with a Magitech control panel.”
Damiel caught my hand as I turned. I looked back at him.
“Good luck,” he said, holding to my hand, his skin warm against mine.
I winked at him. “See you soon, Colonel.”
Then I slipped out from my magic camouflage and walked straight up to the pirate base’s front gate.
10
The Package
The base guards waved me in through the front gate. I must have looked convincing enough as a mercenary. I chalked that up to the impressive personal armory of weapons strapped to my body.
The line I’d given them about being an engineer, a witch who’d come to improve their Magitech barrier, hadn’t hurt either. They were desperate for an upgrade. Apparently, a gigantic green dinosaur had bashed into it last week, damaging the east side of the grid.
I headed straight for the control room, happy for a pretense to fiddle with the Magitech barrier controls. The pirates standing guard there were just as pleased to see me as the ones at the front gate had been. Out here, the Magitech barrier was all that kept the wild monsters from swarming their fortress.
Inside the control room, I quickly found the dinosaur-induced damage and opened up the hole in the magic barrier a little more. I camouflaged the breach, making it appear solid to the naked eye. I knew Damiel would see it, though. He seemed to see through everything—including, unfortunately, my attempts to pretend there was nothing between us.
Well, there wasn’t anything between us yet. But I could sense it going in that direction. I couldn’t shake the feeling that drew me toward him.
Sure, he was funny. And smart. And had a body to die for. But there was a darkness inside of him, a raging storm beneath the cool, collected facade. He’d suffered a massive betrayal, and that had left its scar on his psyche. I couldn’t trust him. Not truly.
I scouted the base, keeping an eye out for anywhere Darkstorm might be holding Eva, pushing all thoughts of Damiel aside. I had to concentrate, to stay focused. We had a job to do and a friend to save. My friend. My friend who was going to marry the man I couldn’t stop thinking about.
This was just so messed up.
Bottling my emotions, I entered the prison block. I just walked on through. There wasn’t even someone standing guard outside. Each cell had its own Magitech barrier, so perhaps the pirates figured a guard on duty was overkill.
I scanned the cells. The drab stone walls were stained with old blood—and so was the floor. There were over thirty cells. Right now, however, only two prisoners were in here, and neither one of them was remotely human. They were monsters. What the hell was Darkstorm doing holding monsters in captivity? And how had he modified his Magitech barrier to allow them inside? The barriers had been designed to instantly obliterate any monster inside its zone.
In any case, Eva wasn’t here, so I left. Where could she be? Was there another cellblock for the prisoners who weren’t beasts? Well, there was one way to find out.
I walked up to one of the guards patrolling the outside open area between the base’s buildings. A big guy in a muscle t-shirt, black denim pants, and heavy boots, the guard was a total beast of a man. His head was completely bald, but he wore a dark beard trimmed close to his face—and a rifle over his arm.
“Hi, I’m Cadence,” I said with a smile.
He responded with total silence.
“I’m new here.”
He looked down at me like my very existence annoyed him. Friendly fellow.
“I was out on special assignment,” I continued. “I’ve brought something back for our guest from Storm Castle.”
‘Guest’ was pretty much the universal word for prisoner.
Beastman’s dark, beady eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“You know, our guest, Eva Doren,�
� I prompted him.
The suspicion drained from his eyes, replaced by…relief? That was certainly unexpected.
“You have the package?” Beastman asked me.
Package? What package? What the hell was Darkstorm planning to do to Eva? I did not like the sound of this package, whatever it was.
But I nodded like I knew exactly what he was talking about. “I have it.”
“It’s about time.” There was definite relief in his sigh. “She was driving me up the wall.”
What was in this package? I had a sinking suspicion it was a sedative. Or chains.
“She’s in the west building. Top floor,” Beastman told me.
I gave him a sharp nod, then headed for the metallic building he’d indicated. From the outside, it looked like a huge warehouse. Or a prison. Its red-orange paint job blended perfectly with the local scenery.
The building wasn’t a warehouse or a prison, however, I realized as I entered and found a gigantic airship filling most of the interior. It was a hangar. The ceiling panels looked like they slid apart to allow the ship to leave through the top. I mentally labeled the airship a potential getaway ride, then took the metal-grate staircase to the upper level.
A guard stood outside the door at the top of the stairs, his hand resting over his gun. His grip on his weapon tightened when he saw me.
“I have the package,” I told him, making good use of the info I’d gotten from Beastman.
That same relief spread across this guard’s face. He stepped aside, allowing me to enter.
I walked through the door to find a large room with bleak, rust-colored walls and no furniture. From the looks of it, it had once been an old factory, but it now served as a workshop and storage room. And, potentially, a place to interrogate prisoners.
“You’re not so haughty now, are you?” said a deep, mocking voice, ringing with power and arrogance. Darkstorm.
“Stop,” another voice pleaded, desperate. Eva.
I crept closer to the voices, masking my footfalls. This tin can of a building echoed horribly. Did Darkstorm relish in the resounding echoes of his victims’ screams? A shiver cut down my spine.
“I will stop when you tell me what I want to hear,” Darkstorm’s deep voice punched off the metal walls.
Eva let out a pained, choking noise. He was torturing her.
I moved in closer, keeping my body tucked behind an old wooden shipping crate, even as my head peeked out. I could hardly see. Darkstorm’s back was blocking my view. Eva’s soft sobs were almost lost beneath the thunderous roar of the dark angel’s voice. She was breaking under his torture. I had to get her out of here.
The question was how. Darkstorm was a powerful dark angel, and I was only a new angel. The smart thing to do would have been to wait for Damiel to get here, but Darkstorm was hurting my friend right now. I couldn’t just stand here and do nothing to help her.
I slunk around the wooden crate, preparing to attack Darkstorm from behind. I froze in horror at what I saw.
Eva wasn’t tied up. She lay naked on the table, Darkstorm’s head buried between her legs. As Eva moaned again, her eyes rolling back, her fingernails clawing frantically at the tabletop, I realized they were not moans of pain that I’d heard. They were moans of pleasure.
“I will ask you one more time,” Darkstorm growled. “Who do you love?”
“You,” she said, gasping for breath.
“Who do you belong to?”
“You,” Eva moaned. “I’m yours. All yours.”
“Yes.” Darkstorm looked down on her with a satisfied smirk. “You are.”
His pants dropped and he climbed on top of her. Locking her legs around his body, Eva moved under him, her moans growing louder as Darkstorm’s feral growls blended with hers.
I spun around and sprinted out of the room.
“Did you deliver the package?” the guard asked me as I ran out and swung the door shut behind me.
“They’re busy,” I said, not stopping. “I’ll come back later.”
I hurried down the stairs, reminding myself not to run as fast as my legs could move. Running would have attracted attention to myself. I had to keep calm. And, most especially, not throw up. That was important.
I needed some time to sort out this madness, but as I cut around the corner of the building, hands grabbed me and pushed me against the wall.
11
Traitors
I was about to swing a punch at my assailant when I saw that it was only Damiel.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, releasing his hold on me.
“We have a problem,” I said.
And then I recounted everything I’d witnessed in the room above the airship hangar.
“That is unexpected,” Damiel said when I’d finished my tale.
His face was hard, inscrutable. He’d put up his shields and closed off his emotions. I hated that I’d had to tell him his bride-to-be was having an affair with a rogue dark angel. And I hated that I was the one who’d reenforced his belief that he couldn’t trust anyone. I wanted to show him the good in everyone, that he could have connections. That he could trust people.
“I’m sorry.” I touched my hand to his arm.
He glanced down at my hand, then he met my eyes. “We have a job to do.”
“Damiel—”
“We came here to bag a rogue dark angel. Now we’ll be bagging a traitor as well.”
I winced.
His brows drew together. “What’s wrong?”
“I still can’t believe it,” I said. “There must be a mistake. Eva would never betray the Legion. This has to be a ploy. Maybe Nyx sent her on a mission to seduce Darkstorm to get information out of him, to help the Legion take him down and end his reign of terror.”
“I would have known about that.”
“Maybe Nyx kept it a secret,” I challenged. “She does that all the time.”
“Major Doren is a Dragon. Her place is at Storm Castle, helping to keep the world’s elemental magic in balance. Nyx would never have sent her away for so long. Her extended absence, being so far from the Elemental Plains, puts the whole world at risk. If Nyx were looking to infiltrate Darkstorm’s stronghold, she would have used another soldier.”
“Yes, Eva is a Dragon,” I replied. “And in making Eva the Sea Dragon, Nyx entrusted her with an enormous responsibility. The First Angel would not have done that if she didn’t trust her.”
“She wouldn’t be the first trusted soldier to betray the Legion,” Damiel said darkly.
He was thinking of his former friend, a fellow Legion soldier who had betrayed him. I didn’t need to be telepathic to read the pain in his eyes. Some wounds took years to heal—and some never did.
Yes, the Legion had seen its fair share of traitors, but I just couldn’t believe Eva was one of them. I knew her too well.
“You only think you know her,” Damiel told me. “But actions speak louder than words. Eva Doren is a traitor.”
I frowned, trying to close off my mind. I did not need Damiel Dragonsire second-guessing my every thought right now; I was already doing that myself.
“I have to go back to the hangar,” I insisted. “I have to talk to Eva. Alone.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Damiel—”
“Major Doren is a traitor. For all we know, she was the one who killed Colonel Starfire. At the very least, she played some part in his demise. We will go to the hangar, but we’ll do it together. We’ll wait for Darkstorm to leave, then we’ll go up there and incapacitate Major Doren. We’ll do the same to Darkstorm. Then we’ll bring them both back to the Legion for questioning. We can sort out the hows and whys later. For now, we must concentrate on the mission’s objectives. Our job is to bring back Major Doren and Darkstorm. That hasn’t changed.”
A lot had changed. We would be bringing Eva back to the Legion in shackles.
Damiel set his hand on the small of my back, nudging me forward. His stern face was a reminder t
hat we had a job to do. If this turn of events bothered him, he wasn’t showing it.
But why would he? He’d never met Eva, and he didn’t care about her.
I did. She was my friend. How long would the Interrogators torture her before they realized she wasn’t a traitor?
“You must remain focused,” Damiel told me. “We are deep in enemy territory. There’s no room for error, no place for a distracted mind.”
He wasn’t distracted at all. Damiel Dragonsire wasn’t known for getting his feathers ruffled. He was known for his single-minded determination to fulfill his objectives and complete his missions. Failure was not a word in his vocabulary. And while his friend’s past betrayal clearly still hurt him, it did not freeze him. It only hardened his resolve to seek out and destroy all traitors.
I supposed I was actually starting to understand the Legion of Angels’ intimidating, enigmatic Master Interrogator.
“I’m fine,” I assured him. “I am focused.”
“Cadence.” His face told me he wasn’t convinced. It was no wonder since he could read at least some of my thoughts.
“I said I’m all right, Damiel. Let’s do this.”
I ran toward the hangar. Damiel kept pace beside me. We hugged the shadows of the buildings, staying out of sight because Darkstorm’s guards were everywhere. Alone, I might not have aroused their suspicions, but Damiel was well-known by the criminal underworld.
We made it all the way to the airship hangar without incident, but a surprise waited for us inside.
Darkstorm stood at the bottom of the stairs leading to the upper level. I recognized his jagged, chin-length black hair and harrowing dark eyes from his wanted poster. And the dark angel knew Damiel; his eyes flashed with recognition when they locked on to my companion.
“Colonel Damiel Dragonsire, what brings you all the way out here, so far from the Legion? Planning on joining my army?” Darkstorm’s broad, leather-cladded shoulders shook with laughter. He clearly considered himself enormously funny.
“No,” Damiel replied, regarding the dark angel with cool indifference. “I am here to arrest you for crimes against the gods and humanity.”
