He grabbed my arm as I turned toward the sofa. “We need to talk about the battle on Illusion today.”
I flashed him an irritated look. “Why don’t you just write up all the things I did wrong, along with any colorful, disparaging remarks about my corrupt moral character?” I peeled his hand off my arm. “I’ll read it in the morning.”
I really needed to get some rest if I was going to be awake for my dinner date with Nero tonight. The last two days had completely sucked. I was not going to miss a chance for a few pleasant moments before the next terrible day began.
“The battle uncovered more than Valora’s secret,” said Colonel Fireswift. “It uncovered something about you too.”
I bit my lip. Nero had warned me that Colonel Fireswift excelled at uncovering people’s secrets. My sword was on the dresser. I could get to it in under a second. The question was whether I could get to it before Colonel Fireswift got to me.
“Your magic is more powerful than I thought,” he said.
“Huh?”
“You were able to maintain a compulsion spell even when you were paralyzed. Your siren magic is powerful.”
“But?” I supplied for him. I just knew that ‘but’ was on the tip of his tongue.
“There is no ‘but’ this time,” he said. “The potency of your magic is unexpected.”
“It was boosted, focused, by the potion that blocked my other powers.”
Just as Ronan’s potion had once boosted my psychic magic, allowing it to bubble to the surface.
“No potion can boost your power that much.” Colonel Fireswift looked suspicious, even thoughtful. Like I was a puzzle to solve. Or dissect.
I buried that unsettling thought beneath a smile. “Colonel Fireswift, I’m flattered that you like my magic so much. I feel like we’re finally getting along. My good influence must be wearing off on you.”
“Do not mock me, Major Pierce.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. And call me Leda.”
His scowl deepened.
“And your name is?” Until now, I’d never even wondered what his first name was.
“Colonel Fireswift.”
“Your first name is ‘Colonel’?” I chuckled. “Your parents were really thinking ahead, weren’t they? But what if you get promoted? General Colonel Fireswift.” I made a face. “That just sounds clunky.”
“Stop being ridiculous. Of course my first name is not Colonel,” he snapped.
“Then why did you say it is?” I asked, putting on my most innocent face.
His knuckles cracked.
“And on that happy note, I’m getting some sleep,” I said brightly. “We’re not going to win this thing if we’re sleepwalking through it, are we?”
“Your dedication to duty is suspicious.”
“Not at all. That’s your angelic influence rubbing off on me.”
Then I plopped down on the sofa, pulled my blanket over my body, and closed my eyes, hoping tomorrow was better than today.
12
Temple of the Night
This time, I didn’t dream I was being chased. I didn’t dream of shadows and fear, nor of masked menaces and hidden threats. I dreamt of Nero. We fought over a cookie. It broke in half. Then we licked the melted chocolate chips off each other. It was a good dream.
And like all good things, it was over far too soon. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to see what happened once the cookie was gone.
I awoke abruptly. The clock on the wall told me it was shortly before midnight. And Faris’s disapproving face scowling down on me told me there was trouble in my near future.
“Your next challenge will soon begin,” the god said, his arms crossed.
So much for my date with Nero. I jumped up, putting my battle leather on over my camisole and hot pants.
“I thought the next challenge wasn’t starting until morning,” I said groggily.
At least that’s what we’d been told.
“War is unpredictable,” replied Faris.
Kind of like the gods who were inventing these wars.
“Do we get to bring our weapons this time?” I asked.
“Each soldier may bring one weapon,” he replied.
I grabbed my knife from the dresser. It wasn’t the biggest, baddest weapon in town, but the slender silver blade was enchanted. It could cut through almost any spell. After my recent experience with that paralyzing curse, I intended to be prepared.
We followed Faris to the gods’ audience chamber. The gods sat on their thrones in silence, their expressions perfectly masked. They must have finally gotten all the fire and fury out of their system. The other Legion teams were also here—all except for Nyx and Arius. Zarion’s team was missing. That meant they were defending this time around.
“For your third challenge, you will need to steal from Zarion,” Faris declared.
The Everlasting telepath stood beside him. “Zarion’s secret vault in the Temple of the Night contains his most treasured possession.”
I really, really hoped it wasn’t a corpse. That seemed like the sort of thing Zarion might keep around. That or maybe a mirror so he could admire his own reflection.
“The rules of the third challenge are as follows,” Faris said. “One weapon per person. Every soldier will have access to one power: the magic of vampires. But beware. That power comes with the vampire’s hunger too. And with your other magic blocked, that hunger is greatly magnified. If you don’t manage to control it, it could cost you far more than this challenge.”
Of course our hunger would be magnified. The gods weren’t interested in a dull show. In fact, after the revelation of Valora’s secret—and the bickering that followed—I bet they were eager to shift the focus back to us.
After we all drank a potion that blocked everything but Vampire’s Kiss, we walked through our designated mirrors to enter Zarion’s domain. Colonel Fireswift and I popped up on a busy city street. Along the smooth paved road, flashing magic lights projected images onto tall skyscrapers, rotating between the gods’ holy message and ads for makeup, clothing, and cars. Sprinkled between the retail shops, spas, and hair stylists were numerous temples and shrines.
The largest temple of them all was a sparkling pyramid that appeared to be entirely covered in diamonds. Stone gods and angels lined the very long walkway that led to the temple, fighting monsters, pushing away the darkness. They were the champions of light and right. They were the shields that protected the weak, the swords that banished all evil. That was the story Zarion’s temple was selling.
“That’s the place,” I said. “That’s where we’ll find Zarion’s artifact.”
The building had to be Zarion’s. It had to be the Temple of the Night. It totally fit his personality. Zarion might as well have painted his name all across the outside of the building. Oh, wait. He had. A gold plaque was stuck to a pillar in front of the building. Its text read ‘Temple of the Night, Temple of Zarion, God of Faith, Lord of Pilgrims, and King of Vampires’.
“Follow behind me,” Colonel Fireswift instructed me, leading the way to the temple.
He opened the door, and we stepped through it. Instead of entering Zarion’s temple, however, we ended up right back where we’d started: outside the temple, staring at the now-closed door.
Frowning, Colonel Fireswift opened the door, and we tried again. The result was no different. We circled around the temple, trying every door we found. Nothing worked. We could not enter the temple.
I stopped a man who was passing by. “How do we enter Zarion’s temple?” I asked him.
“Only the faithful, the true believers at heart, those loyal to the god Zarion, can enter the temple,” he declared, then continued on his way.
“Well, that wasn’t cryptic at all,” I muttered.
“The message is as clear as the gods’ bell tolling over an open prairie,” Colonel Fireswift told me. “Only the faithful may enter. That excludes you.” He pointed at the patch of sidewalk I was standing on. “Stay h
ere.”
This time, he approached the temple door alone and tried to enter without me. A moment later, he popped up behind me.
I glanced back at him. “Apparently, you aren’t as true of heart as you thought, Colonel,” I said, trying really hard not to laugh.
“This is impossible,” he growled. “I am an angel. There is no truer believer in all the gods’ worlds, no one more faithful to the gods, no one who better serves their will than an angel.”
I arched my brows at him. “And yet the temple judged you and found you unworthy.”
“It’s still sensing your presence,” he snapped at me. “Step back further.”
“I could step back to the edge of the city. I could fall off the edge of the world. And it wouldn’t make a bit of difference. The temple still wouldn’t let you in. Because this isn’t about faith. There’s a trick to it.”
Irked by my suggestion, he growled something about street urchins and dirty tricks. I was already turning away, so I didn’t quite catch it. I scanned the city block. Nestled between the temples and retail shops were bars. Of course there were bars. Where there were people, there were always bars. Any world, any time. It was one of the constants in the universe.
Here at the epicenter of civilization, the alcohol was likely better than the moonshine lighter fluid they sold back in my Frontier hometown of Purgatory. Still, though the drinks and denizens changed, human nature did not.
I headed for the bar adjacent to the temple.
“What are you doing?” Colonel Fireswift demanded, heading me off.
“Going inside, of course.”
He shot the bar a scornful look. “Now is not the time to visit a bar.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I told him. “Now is exactly the time to visit this bar.”
He looked at me like I was a drunk degenerate for going into a bar while on duty. He just didn’t get it.
I pointed to the sign hanging over the bar’s entrance. It read ‘Faithful’.
“This is the way into Zarion’s temple,” I said.
Colonel Fireswift gave me a dubious look, but he followed me inside anyway. Maybe he was starting to trust me. Or maybe he was just hoping I’d dig my own grave—and then all he’d have to do was push me in.
“Really, Colonel, in your line of work, you should know that bars are an excellent source of information,” I said. “Copious amounts of alcohol lead to loose tongues.”
“So do copious amounts of torture.”
I stopped and pivoted around to look him in the eye. His face was dead serious.
“You are very disturbing,” I told him.
His nod was as crisp as his response. “Good.”
Shaking my head, I pushed through the swinging door to enter the bar.
“I will do the talking,” Colonel Fireswift said, passing in front of me as we approached the counter. “You just stay out of the way.”
Three men in tight leather pants and flashy dress shirts sat at the bar, singing drinking songs. The first man’s shirt was a checker pattern of gold and black. The second’s was as red as freshly-spilled blood. And the third man’s white shirt was as shiny as Zarion’s temple.
“Care for a triple shot?” the man in the white shirt asked the other two.
“Of course,” replied Gold-and-Black.
“There’s nothing like a good jolt to the body at seven in the morning. Wakes you right up,” said Red Shirt.
The three men waved over three starry-eyed women in minidresses seated around a table at the edge of the room. The women sashayed over to the bar, swaying their hips as they wobbled drunkenly on their stilettos. Three identical grins curled the men’s lips. In a flash of inhuman speed, they grabbed the women and bit down on their necks.
Vampires.
“We require passage into Zarion’s temple,” Colonel Fireswift told them in his sharp, commanding voice.
The vampires kept drinking, unmoved by his words or tone. He couldn’t even compel them, at least not without his siren magic to back up his words. That must have been really frustrating. Forcing people to do things they didn’t want to do was pretty much the gist of Colonel Fireswift’s job.
“I am an angel, a divine soldier chosen by the gods, sworn to uphold their justice,” Colonel Fireswift pressed on stubbornly. “Our mission requires entrance into Zarion’s temple. You will tell me how to enter it.”
The vampires continued to ignore him, not even looking up. The three women they were feeding from should have been drained dry by now, but they appeared unaffected by the blood loss. In fact, they didn’t even seem to realize there were vampires attached to their necks.
Colonel Fireswift took another step toward the vampires, drawing his sword.
The vampires did react to that. They pulled away from the women, blood dripping from their fangs. Then they jumped off their barstools and charged forward. Colonel Fireswift pushed back all three vampires as the women ran screaming to the edge of the room. I watched.
Colonel Fireswift punched Sparkling White in the face, his eyes flickering to me just long enough to shoot a scathing look my way. “Why are you just standing there?” he demanded.
“I am staying out of the way.” I fluttered my eyelashes. “Just as you commanded. Colonel.”
A scowl etched into his face, he sidestepped Gold-and-Black, then caught the vampire’s arm, pulling back hard on his shoulder. A sickening crunch followed, and Gold-and-Black fell. Red Shirt jumped on Colonel Fireswift’s back, locking his arms around his throat.
“Windstriker and Sunstorm are too soft,” Colonel Fireswift said, his voice strained, his breathing labored. “If you’d been under my command, I’d have long since had you shot for insubordination.”
He was trying to throw off the red shirt vampire without success. As he struggled, Sparkling White swung a punch at his face. Colonel Fireswift stumbled back, the vampire attached to his back throwing off his balance. He narrowly missed a fist to the face.
He didn’t seem to be in any real peril. This was a bar brawl, not a battle.
“Insubordination?” I repeated. “For following your orders? Forgive me, I’m just a boorish, uncultured street urchin, but isn’t following orders the opposite of insubordination?”
“Don’t be cute with me,” he growled. “Just get this blasted vampire off of me.”
“As you command,” I said with a bow.
I grabbed the red shirt vampire attached to Colonel Fireswift’s back and threw him over the counter. He smashed into the mirror behind the bar and fell down, along with a bunch of liquor bottles.
Colonel Fireswift was still busy with the other two vampires. I grabbed a dishtowel from the bar and set it on the counter. I emptied the contents of a liquor bottle all over the towel, drenching it thoroughly. Then I threw the sopping wet towel at Gold-and-Black. It landed over his head. As he tried to peel it off, I slid over the counter and grabbed a lighter out of a drawer. I flicked the flame at the towel, setting it on fire. The gold-and-black vampire ran off screaming and zigzagging as he tried to push off the towel and pat out the fire at the same time.
Colonel Fireswift spun around, knocking Sparkling White unconscious to the floor. Red Shirt, the vampire I’d tossed earlier, had crawled back over the counter, and he was sneaking up on Colonel Fireswift. I threw a liquor bottle at him. He caught it. I threw another. He caught that with his other hand.
“You need to learn some new tricks,” he laughed. “You won’t be setting me on fire, missy.”
“That’s not even my plan,” I replied with a smile.
I launched bottle after bottle at him, faster than he could deflect them. One of the bottles smashed into his forehead, his hard skull shattering it. Alcohol poured all over him. Snarling, the vampire took a step toward me—and slipped on the pool of alcohol under his feet. He fell over, his back slapping the floor. As he struggled to sit up, I cuffed one of his hands to the bar.
“This won’t hold me,” he growled, spittle
flinging off his fangs as he tried to free himself.
“Sure it will,” I said calmly, even as he grabbed for me. “See those sparkly swirls in the steel bar you’re handcuffed to? The metal has obviously been reinforced by magic. It could hold a vampire much bigger and tougher than you, pinky.”
“Pinky?” he barked. “This shirt is red.”
“Not anymore.” I pointed out the pink streaks covering most of his shirt.
“Alcohol does not do that.”
I grinned. “But bleach does. I might have dug into the cleaning supplies behind the counter.”
Growling, the vampire jumped at me, forgetting the handcuffs. They pulled him back down. The more he pushed and struggled, the more his feet slipped on the wet floor.
Colonel Fireswift closed in beside me, his eyes panning from the screaming vampire running back and forth across the bar with a flaming towel over his head—to the thrashing, handcuffed, bleach-soaked vampire slipping continuously on the floor as he tried to free himself.
“How do you always manage to create such a circus?” Colonel Fireswift demanded.
“It’s a talent. And you’re welcome, by the way,” I added.
He merely glared at me.
“You know, for rescuing you,” I said. “You were in such distress.”
“An angel is never in distress.”
“Your voice was a tad squeaky.”
“It’s still not too late to shoot you, Pierce.”
“You didn’t bring a gun along,” I pointed out, nodding at his sword.
“I’m patient. And this training will be long.”
The look on his face promised he would shoot me in my sleep before this was all over. I shook off the shiver cutting down my spine. Well, I’d certainly not be sleeping well.
The sparkling white vampire Colonel Fireswift had knocked out was awake again. And he was tickled as pink as his companion’s newly-bleached shirt.
“For partners, you two sure don’t get along very well,” he laughed.
“We are not partners. I am her superior.” In every way, the look on Colonel Fireswift’s face screamed loud and clear.
Fairy’s Touch: Legion of Angels: Book 7 Page 11
