by Ella Summers
“Including Hardwicke?”
“Yes, he pretty much had them all. So how can your lab’s test claim they possess no magic? There should be traces of the magic potion in their blood.” Unless… “Idiots,” I muttered.
“I hope you’re not talking about me.”
“No, not you. Your father’s Interrogators. They mucked this all up brilliantly.”
“How?”
“What’s the first thing Legion Interrogators do before they begin questioning a supernatural?”
“As a rule, they administer a magic-blocking potion to neutralize their powers.”
“And that’s why the labs didn’t find any magic in the Pioneers’ bodies.”
“The Interrogators’ potion obliterated any traces of it,” Jace realized.
“Right. In their attempt to make the prisoners not a threat, the Interrogators made them useless. That means if we want to analyze the Pioneers’ potion, we need to capture a fresh new prisoner. If only we knew where they’re all hiding.”
“The organization’s cells are independent. None of the common soldiers know anything about the other cells. Otherwise, we would have taken them out years ago.”
“How about you give me a go at finding the Pioneers?” I said.
“You?”
“Before joining the illustrious Legion of Angels, I used to be a bounty hunter, remember? I’m good at tracking people.”
I’d been doing it for a decade, ever since Calli had started bringing me on jobs.
“I doubt my father would agree to that,” he said.
“Because you need to get all the credit.”
“Yeah, sometimes I wonder if this is more about putting you down than about pushing me up.”
I wouldn’t have been surprised. Colonel Fireswift considered it blasphemy that a dirty street rat like me could make it into the Legion of Angels, let alone had any shot of becoming an angel before his son.
“What your father doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” I said.
He looked at me like my hair was on fire—or more like I’d tried to set his hair on fire.
“What do you know about the Legion deserter?” I asked. “Most specifically, how was his magic evaluated?”
“The Legion’s tests determined that witchcraft is Davenport’s strongest power by a long shot. He must be descended from witches.”
“Don’t you think that’s a bit too much of a coincidence?”
“What do you mean?” he asked, his eyes lighting up with excitement. He was hoping to nab the deserter as part of this after all.
“Davenport was working with the Pioneers. What if he’s the one who designed the Pioneers’ magic potion? You said his specialty is Witch’s Cauldron,” I pointed out.
Jace’s face fell in disappointment, as though he’d expected that I had something better. Apparently, my wild theory had fallen far from the mark.
“No one, not even a former major in the Legion of Angels, is so good that he could create a potion to bestow magic upon mundane humans,” he stated. “You simply cannot give people the power of the Legion without the consequences. Nectar and Venom are the only potions with the power to bestow magic. What you’re saying isn’t just crazy talk; it’s heresy.”
“Then how do you explain the Pioneers’ powers?” I shot back.
“I can’t,” he said, chewing on his lower lip. This affront to the rules of the world as he knew them was bothering him.
It was bothering me too. There were so many questions, so many things that just didn’t add up. And the deeper I dug, the more I found myself buried in uncertainty.
The Wall of Woe zapped me again, irritated that I’d been ignoring it. I swore at it under my breath.
“It’s on a timer, you know. It’s going to crush you if you don’t break through,” Jace told me.
“Lovely. The Legion’s training program designers sure don’t half-ass it.”
I made a fist and punched the Wall of Woe. It punched back, slamming me against the other side of the barrier. I made two fists this time and punched harder. Even as the barrier pushed against me, shooting jolts of magic up my arms that ricocheted to every part of my body, I stood my ground and bore the pain, hitting it harder and faster like it was one enormous punching bag. The barrier groaned, a hairline crack in the telekinetic energy forming. I aimed my next punch at the crack, smashing it again and again. The opening swelled to the width of my shoulders. Then the bubble popped, dissolving like a piece of burnt tissue paper.
The unnatural glow faded. I froze as soon as I saw Jace’s face. He looked worse than a person-of-interest did after the Legion’s Interrogators were through with them. My eyes dropped, snagging on the split and bloody remnants of his leather vest.
“What the hell happened to you?” I gasped.
“I was training with my father.”
His father had punished him—except the sadistic angel had called it ‘training’. To Colonel Fireswift, training and torture were one and the same.
“He did this because Hardwicke is dead.” Anger shook my words.
Jace said nothing, but he didn’t have to. I knew I was right.
“How could a father do this to his son?” I said in disgust.
“He is an angel.”
“I’m getting tired of that excuse.”
“You don’t understand. You dance with angels, you are an angel’s lover, but you still don’t understand them.”
“We all justify the angels’ actions by saying, ‘that’s just how angels are’. But that’s no excuse. It would be like if a vampire killed someone and people said, ‘oh, oops, he couldn’t help it. It’s simply in his nature.’ ” I frowned. “Well, I’m calling bullshit. We can all help it. We can all choose to be something other than a monster. I understand angels make tough and ugly choices, like torturing enemies to save innocent lives. But there is a line, a line we must not cross. That line is family. Every time your father lifts his hand to ‘teach you a lesson’, he crosses that line. This isn’t training. It’s brutality. And it’s not ok.”
With that said, I stormed out of the gym, my outrage propelling me toward Colonel Fireswift’s office. I pushed the door open and barged into the room without ceremony.
I gave the angel a long, hard glare and declared, “What you’re doing to your son is not ok.”
Annoyance flickered across Colonel Fireswift’s face, before coldness swallowed his aggravation. “You forget your place as a soldier in the Legion of Angels.”
“You forget yours as a father. You can’t torture your own children.”
“It’s not torture. It’s training.”
“Have you been hurting people for so long that you can no longer tell the difference?”
“How dare you challenge centuries of Legion tradition.” His voice was a whisper of menace.
“I will challenge anything I know to be wrong.”
He stared at me in utter disbelief, as though he’d forgotten that he’d told himself I wasn’t worth an emotional response. “I don’t like you.”
I let out a dry laugh. “I’d never have guessed.”
“You are mouthy, rude, and you think the rules don’t apply to you. You get too personally involved with people. You need to maintain distance so your judgment isn’t clouded.”
“Please tell me more about my best qualities.”
“I don’t like you,” he repeated. “And you don’t like me. You think I’m cruel and vicious.”
“You said it, not me.”
“I am an angel.” His words rang with pride. “For us, the ends justify the means. How often have you found yourself in the same situation?” His brows lifted knowingly.
I opened my mouth to challenge the accusation, but no words came. Instead, memories flashed through my head—interrogating the werewolf and the fire elemental, cracking Hardwicke’s mind in my desperation to save my sisters.
“My civilized methods are preferable to your uncontrolled, dirty tactics,” Colonel Fi
reswift stated calmly.
I pulled my mind out of the pit of guilt and turmoil that I’d dug myself into. “I throw rocks and sticks at my opponent to catch them off guard. I engage in unorthodox fighting. You torture and kill your subordinates. And your family.”
“If you survive long enough, you will come to understand.”
I huffed in disgust. But before I could think of a more articulate response, distressed shouts echoed down the hallway, spilling into the open doorway of Colonel Fireswift’s office.
Legion soldiers were professional, well-trained, and had near-perfect control over their emotions. They didn’t typically shout out in alarm. Which meant something was wrong. Very wrong.
I rushed out of the room. Colonel Fireswift was right beside me. As we came around the corner into the open atrium, I stared in shock at Harker. His uniform was torn to shreds, his face blackened by dirt and ash. Burns and blood covered his arms. A dozen other soldiers stood behind him. The best of them were in no better shape than Harker. The worst of them were so broken that they had to be carried in by their comrades.
Colonel Fireswift came to a stop in front of Harker. “What happened?”
“The failing wall in Memphis was a trap. We lost people.” His face was haunted, his voice grim. “An angel is dead.”
As the gravity, the finality of his words sank in, I looked around frantically, my pulse racing.
I grabbed Harker by the shoulders and demanded, “Where’s Nero?” I shook him harder, screaming, “Where the hell is Nero?!”
20
Death of an Angel
Harker’s tired eyes met mine. “Nero stayed behind to clean up the mess. He’ll be fine.” He spoke the words with confidence, but he looked worried, even as he turned toward Colonel Fireswift. “Colonel Battleborn is dead.”
Three angels had been working on a single mission? The situation must have been even more dire than I’d thought. The way Nero had spoken, it had sounded like the barrier had just been weakened. Were the monsters already really so close to breaking through the wall?
“I need to check on the wounded,” Harker said. “Basanti is in the hospital wing.”
“Is she ok?” I asked.
His expression was dark. “She’s a fighter.”
Jace, Colonel Fireswift, and I followed Harker to the infirmary, which was in a state of chaos. Every bed was taken by a soldier, and there were still more injured lying on the floor. The doctors rushed in every direction, completely overtaxed. I couldn’t remember ever seeing a Legion hospital so crowded with wounded soldiers.
I spotted Basanti. She was lying unconscious on a bed at the edge of the room, right under a window that looked out on a magnificent blue and pink sunrise. The colorful morning sky seemed to mock us with its beauty.
Harker scanned the room, taking in the devastation. He looked awful. It wasn’t the burns or dirt that stained his skin and hair, or the tears in his clothing. It wasn’t even the cuts and gashes in his body that refused to heal. It was the haunted expression in his eyes, like he was staring straight at the end of the world.
“What happened?” I asked as a doctor began healing Basanti’s wounds.
I was almost afraid to ask. And I was even more afraid of his answer.
“This whole thing was a setup,” Harker said. “The Magitech barrier at Memphis wasn’t breaking down because of monsters, and it wasn’t succumbing to the effects of old age. It was sabotaged from the inside. The saboteurs took down the barrier. They lured us in by creating a threat so horrible, so serious, they knew it would bring in the Legion’s best, including multiple angels. This was a trap, designed to deal a major blow to the Legion of Angels. We weren’t supposed to survive.”
“Did you capture the saboteurs?” Colonel Fireswift asked him.
“No. They killed themselves before we got to them.” Harker met Colonel Fireswift’s gaze with darkness in his eyes. “They were six of our own. Legion soldiers.”
Shock flashed across Colonel Fireswift’s face. It was an expression I’d never seen there before. “Deserters? Six at once?”
He looked disgusted, angry, outraged, and worried—all at once. That was another new expression for him. But a moment later, his face hardened with resolve, his cold, cruel shield sliding into place once more.
“No, they weren’t deserting,” Harker said. “They were committing suicide. The saboteurs never expected to survive this ordeal. They were hoping they’d take us down with them.”
Colonel Fireswift’s mouth tightened into a hard line. “Fanatics then.”
“No—”
Raised voices clamored behind us, drowning out Harker’s words. Doctors rushed about frantically, gathering around a convulsing female soldier on one of the beds. Her body rattled and shook, her wounds pulsing blood. Bathed in crimson, I hardly recognized her. It was Major Kendra Fireswift, Jace’s sister, Colonel Fireswift’s daughter.
And she was dying.
Her face contorted in agony as the life dripped out of her. The doctors rushed around her bed, trying to save her, but nothing they did made a difference. They were losing her.
Colonel Fireswift rushed to his daughter’s bed, pushing the doctors aside. He set his hands, aglow with healing magic, on her chest. Desperation crinkled his brow as he poured magic into her. But his angelic healing powers were no match for whatever was killing her.
Jace stood on the other side of her bed. He had no healing magic, but he wasn’t idle. His hands were a blur as he mixed potions and set bandages, trying to stop the bleeding.
Beneath the splashes of crimson, Kendra’s face had grown deathly pale. She was screaming so loud that the windows were shattering all around her.
“What happened to her?” I asked Harker in horror.
“She was poisoned,” he told me. “The saboteurs used bullets infused with Venom. She was hit. And now the dark magic is destroying her light magic, unraveling her piece by piece, strand by strand.”
I stepped forward, determined to help. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I had to do something.
Harker caught my arm. “It’s no use,” he said in a low whisper.
“I can save her,” I whispered back. “I can suck the Venom out of her. Just like I did to Basanti.”
“It’s too late. The poison has spread too far for her to survive. At this point, sucking the Venom from her would only expose your dark magic. There’s no hope for her.”
I watched Kendra convulsing against her father’s hold, her blood splashing him and Jace. Acid rose in my throat.
“How can you be so sure?” I demanded.
“Because I’ve seen this poison work. I’ve already watched half of our team die in agony to it. I tried to heal Selena. I watched her die in my arms, unraveling to nothing.” There was a haunted look in Harker’s eyes. “We very nearly lost Basanti. The Venom bullet only grazed her arm, but if Nero hadn’t been so quick to cut away the infected flesh before the poison spread, she would be dead too. Selena and Kendra were some of our best, next in line to become angels. They were both chosen for this mission for their powerful magic. And now they’re dead because of it.”
“Colonel Battleborn?” I asked.
“He was hit with a Venom bullet as well. He died even faster than Selena.”
The more light magic you had, the faster the Venom killed you—and the more it made you suffer as it ripped the shreds of your light magic apart.
“How did Legion soldiers get their hands on Venom?” I demanded.
“I do not know. But the Legion has suffered a mighty blow today,” Harker said darkly. “Colonel Battleborn.”
Kendra’s screams had stopped. She lay motionless on the bed, but even in death, she didn’t appear to be at peace.
Harker’s face was blank. He was blocking out his emotions before they overwhelmed him. “Selena and Kendra, both rising stars, both so close to becoming angels.”
Colonel Fireswift removed his bloody hand from his daughter’s foreh
ead. He stepped back from her bed, his eyes aflame with manic energy. I saw the moment that he lost it, the moment his control snapped and his pain consumed him. I just couldn’t move fast enough to stop what happened next.
Magic exploded out of the angel. The shock wave cut through the room, toppling everyone in its path. What remained of the glass doors shattered, raining down like tears, the tears the angel himself could not shed.
The Legion had suffered heavy losses today, and we were going to lose a whole lot more people if someone didn’t stop Colonel Fireswift now. Harker ran toward him, but his brush with death had taken its toll. He was slower, less coordinated than usual. Colonel Fireswift tossed him aside easily.
The wounded soldiers in the room weren’t in any condition to restrain an enraged angel. The doctors were no match for him either. One look at Jace was all it took to realize he would be of no help. He was just standing there in shock, holding his dead sister’s hand.
Which left me.
I rushed toward Colonel Fireswift, intercepting him before he split a hospital bed—and the patient on it—in two. I put myself between the bed and the angel.
“Colonel Fireswift,” I snapped sharply.
He didn’t even seem to realize I was there. His pain had blinded him.
I’d just been arguing with him, telling him off for being inhuman, and then this happened. He’d lost his daughter. Much as I disliked him, I couldn’t feel anything but bad for him right now. His eyes glistened with unshed tears. I could see the agony eating away at him, forcing him into a rage. He actually could feel and care. Apparently, he was more human than I’d thought.
The revelation, unfortunately, didn’t do me any good. I wasn’t strong enough to contain an enraged angel. If only Nyx were here. Or Nero. My heart thumped out a sharp jab of pain.
Colonel Fireswift threw a chair at Harker. I caught the flying piece of furniture and tossed it aside.
“This is your fault,” Colonel Fireswift growled at Harker, his voice more beast than man. “She’s dead because of your incompetence.” His words dripped menace.
