by Ella Summers
“In my many years leading the Interrogators, I’ve found that simple explanations are generally flimsy facades that mask seditious schemes.”
“And what seditious scheme do you think I’m involved in, Colonel?”
“That’s what I intend to find out,” he told me.
“And if I’m innocent?”
“No one is completely innocent.”
“Not even an angel?”
“You aren’t like other angels.” It sounded like an accusation.
“No, I’m not,” I agreed. “But I’m not guilty either.”
“We shall see.”
I sighed, letting my back sink into the hard, unyielding chair.
“Let’s start with the army the demons were coincidentally gathering in New York right around the time you joined the Legion,” Colonel Fireswift said. “And we’ll go from there.”
8
Wildfire
I sat with Harker at the head table in Demeter. It was just the two of us this morning. Basanti, who usually ate with us, had already eaten with her initiates earlier this morning, and now she was putting them through drills that were literally a matter of life or death. Soren was still under observation following the desertion incident. Everyone else who could sit at this table was away on some mission or another, Nero included.
I missed him, but his absence wasn’t the only reason I was irritable. I was tired. I’d spent most of last night in the interrogation chamber, being grilled by Colonel Fireswift on every little thing I’d ever done since joining the Legion of Angels. I hadn’t slept at all. And I was still wearing the clothes I’d had on yesterday. I’d come straight to the canteen from the interrogation chamber, my hungry tummy screaming for food.
“Colonel Fireswift conducted a similar interrogation on me,” Harker told me. “He also asked me about everything I’ve ever done at the Legion.”
“You’ve been at the Legion much longer than I have,” I pointed out. “Two centuries is a lot of ground to cover.”
“Fortunately, my first two centuries at the Legion were mostly uneventful—up until about a year and a half ago, when the future Angel of Chaos joined the Legion.”
My new nickname sure had spread fast.
“So Colonel Fireswift is going over everything we’ve ever done. But why?” I asked. “What is he looking for? Does he really think something that happened so long ago would have any relevance to these recent incidents?”
“I think this is more about interrogating us than it is about the actual investigation, if you know what I mean.”
“The recent incidents have finally given Colonel Fireswift the excuse he needs to interrogate angels and other key people,” I realized. “He’s using the investigation as a shield, so that he can dig into our secrets. So that he has the authority to do what he’s never been able to do before.”
“That’s what I suspect,” Harker said. “Fireswift tried something like this once before, many years ago, but Nero shut him down right away. Colonel Fireswift didn’t have an excuse back then, but these recent incidents have given him all the ammunition he needs. When Legion soldiers start losing control of their minds, Nyx gets worried. The gods get worried.”
“Then it’s even more crucial that we get to the bottom of the incidents,” I said. “The true reason, not wild conspiracy theories. Honestly, after all Fireswift and I have been through, I thought he’d at least leave me be for a month.”
“It’s not in his nature.”
“Yeah, I know,” I sighed. “I guess that’s what I get for trying to see the best in people.”
“Continue seeing the best in people, Leda. If anything else, it disqualifies you for the job of Interrogator.”
I snorted. “Yeah, they always have to see the worst in everyone.”
The doors to the canteen opened, and Angel strode into the canteen.
“Look at what the cat dragged in,” Harker chuckled.
Angel trotted down the aisle, dragging a dead turkey.
“That looks like one of the wild turkeys that wander through the gardens around the office,” I said.
Though my kitten had grown considerably since she’d arrived inside a present box two days ago, the turkey was bigger than she was. Even so, Angel dragged it with poise and grace, like she was a bride walking down the aisle, her long veil trailing after her.
Several people in the room laughed as Angel pulled the dead turkey toward the head table. A few even captured snapshots with their phone. I was one of them.
Harker looked at me. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to send the picture to Nero so he knows his gift is being thoroughly appreciated.” I added a caption to the photo I’d taken with my phone. “Gods, I love that cat. She makes me laugh. Just what I needed after last night.”
A sly grin curled Harker’s mouth. “Make sure you get the feathers all over the floor in the background of your shot. Nero will really love that.
“I thought you’re supposed to make me behave, not encourage my bad behavior. Inciting naughtiness is not very becoming of an angel.”
“You’re right.” His voice teetered on the precipice of a sigh.
I snapped a second shot, this time with the turkey feathers all over the floor. “You’re right too,” I told Harker as I sent the two photos to Nero. “Your idea made for a brilliant shot. You have a real eye for art.”
Angel sat down at my feet and proceeded to eat the wild turkey she’d caught. How had she managed to catch a bird twice her size? I supposed that, like me, she was an underdog. Or an under-cat.
I’d finished my first plate of food and moved on to my second. Dessert was the dominant theme on my breakfast platters this morning. I wasn’t overly worried about setting an example at the moment. After the shitty night I’d had, I wanted sweets and lots of them. Hey, even angels needed comfort food. Perhaps, especially angels.
“You’re eating like this meal might be your last,” Harker chuckled.
“If Colonel Fireswift has his way, it just might be.” I ate a bite of blueberry pancake. “I missed most of dinner and a whole night of sleep stuck in that interrogation chamber. I’ll need my strength when Colonel Fireswift pulls me in for round two.”
“Good point,” he said glumly. “I should do the same.” He eyed my overflowing dessert plate. “Are you going to eat your marble cake?”
“Yes.”
“All five pieces of marble cake?” he asked, reaching for my plate.
“Every single crumb.” I lifted my fork in a warning gesture, ready to skewer his hand if he made a move on my cake.
Below the table, Angel hissed at him. It was nice to know she had my back.
Harker withdrew his hand. “You need to learn to share with your friends.”
I forked a steamed carrot and put it on his plate. “You’re welcome,” I said with a smile.
Why the canteen was serving steamed carrots for breakfast was anyone’s guess. Probably because they were healthy. But sweets were better. And the best part was that since I was immortal and immune to most ailments, all that sugar couldn’t even kill me.
Harker frowned at the carrot I’d given him. “That is not cake.”
“It’s healthier than cake.”
“Leda, you really shouldn’t give health advice.” He looked pointedly at my dessert plate—and the mountain of sweets piled onto it.
“You know, you could always get your own piece of marble cake. You don’t need to steal any of mine.”
“There isn’t any more marble cake. You took it all.”
I shrugged. “Ask the kitchen to make more. They have to listen to you. You’re in charge here.”
“Yes, I’m in charge here.” He sat taller in his chair. “And I’m telling you to give me one of your pieces of marble cake.”
“No.” I took a bite of my cake.
“Why not?”
“Because they’re all mine. And you’re not in charge of me or my cake.”
“I
t’s my cake. My building. My city. My territory. Everything in this office is mine, including that cake.” He sounded angry.
“You damn angels, always so possessive,” I said, raising my voice. “You think everything you see is automatically yours. You are sick with Mine Syndrome.”
“I hate to break it to you, Leda, but you’re an angel too. You suffer from the exact same syndrome.”
I arched my brows. “Then it was pretty stupid of you to try to steal my cake, don’t you think?”
He growled.
“Very scary,” I said sardonically.
“Don’t test me, Leda.” His nostrils flared in anger; his voice was a scathing hiss that scraped across my eardrums.
“No, you don’t test me,” I shot back.
Our stares locked for a few seconds. Then he reached for my cake. I slammed my fork down, right through his hand.
He looked at the fork in his hand, then up at me. His eyes were wide with shock. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
“And I can’t believe you tried to steal my cake. What the hell has gotten into you, Harker?”
Before he could answer, a scream roared through the canteen, “She is mine, not yours!”
I scanned the room, searching for the source of the outburst. I found them right away, two male soldiers standing on either side of a long dining table, glaring at each other.
“She was never yours! And she never will be!”
Their agitated eyes flickered to a female soldier who stood at the end of the table, watching them both in surprise. She was obviously the object of their affection—and the source of their conflict.
“She doesn’t want you. You’re not good enough for her. Not strong enough.”
“Let’s just see who’s not strong enough.”
The two enraged soldiers jumped at each other, colliding in a punching, wrestling, rolling, kicking mess on the floor. Tables toppled. Dishes shattered. Food spilled all across the floor.
And the craziest part of it all was that everyone else in the canteen was cheering them on. The captive, incensed audience was roaring for blood and action. The rage spread like wildfire across the canteen, consuming everyone. They went from watching to participating. They were all acting like street fighters, not soldiers in the Legion of Angels.
I looked from that barbaric scene, to the fork I’d just put through Harker’s hand. Suddenly, our cake dispute seemed pretty trivial. “I think the demon’s curse has struck again.” I freed the fork from his hand. “And it’s escalated.”
9
An Elusive Kind of Magic
Two hundred highly-trained and disciplined Legion soldiers were engaged in an all-out brawl with one another in the middle of the New York office. A moment ago, I would have declared such a thing to be impossible, even after the recent incidents. Because there was a big difference between one or two soldiers losing control—and two hundred of them simultaneously going berserk. Two hundred wasn’t a mere brawl; it was a civil war.
Harker and I moved in to break up the fight. The enraged soldiers didn’t take kindly to that. In fact, anyone we got too close to tried to punch us in the face. Under normal circumstances, not a single one of them would have dared to strike an angel, let alone two angels. This was the demon curse at work all right. These soldiers were all running on raw emotions and base instincts, not rational thought. Even Ivy, Drake, and Alec were entrenched in the brawl, their eyes burning with magic, their minds completely overwhelmed by primal emotions. They didn’t even seem to recognize me.
“We need to get one of these fighting soldiers to Nerissa for testing before the curse’s effects wear off,” I told Harker as a soldier fell unconscious at our feet.
In the previous incidents, the curse had seemed to wear off when its victim fell asleep. We needed a conscious soldier to test.
Angel leapt into the war zone, pouncing on a soldier who tried to get the jump on me. The soldier threw her off, howling as he freed himself from her claws, dug in deep into his back.
Angry that he’d attacked my cat, I blasted him with magic. I hit him too hard. The spell knocked him out—and sent him straight through a window. Oops. Every day since I’d become an angel, my magic seemed to grow stronger. It was kind of hard to get used to something that was constantly in flux.
I picked up Angel. “Are you ok?”
She replied with a meow, then jumped back into the fray. Apparently, I needn’t have worried. She regularly hunted creatures many times her size. She was tough. A fighter. And she fought dirty—just like me. I witnessed that dirty fighting firsthand. Angel egged on a soldier, getting him to take chase. She jumped out of the way at the last minute, and the soldier crashed through a glass wall.
Another soldier swung a punch at me. I grabbed his swinging arm, then the other arm as he spun, twisting them both behind his back. I dragged him toward the door, where Harker was grappling with three security guards.
“I called them here to subdue the fight, not join in,” he told me. “Whatever this curse is, it’s highly contagious. The guards were affected within moments.”
“Then why aren’t we affected?” I asked.
“Angels are more resilient to curses, poisons, and diseases.”
We left the canteen, holding the struggling soldier between us as we hurried down the hall. Or at least tried to hurry. The soldier made every step a battle.
“Enough,” Harker said as we reached the stairwell. He cast a spell around the soldier, encasing him in magic.
In response, the enraged soldier banged his head hard against the glowing gold cocoon, knocking himself out.
I looked down at the unconscious soldier at the base of the stairs. “Now, that wasn’t very clever, was it?” I told him.
Harker dragged the sleeping man off the stairs, and we backtracked to the canteen to grab another infected soldier. As we entered the room, I saw Angel dragging a kicking, thrashing soldier down the aisle by his collar. Wow, that cat was strong. No wonder she could take down a turkey. I wagered she could even take down something a whole lot bigger.
Angel dropped the soldier at my feet, her blue eyes looking up at me expectantly.
“Good job,” I told her, grabbing the soldier before he could get away.
Angel purred at me.
The soldier tried to kick me in the shin. I evaded, and as I dragged him out of the canteen, Harker sent a psychic punch through the room that knocked out everyone at once.
“Cool,” I gasped. “How was the spell powerful enough to knock them all out, and yet you didn’t break any windows or furniture?”
He grinned. “Collateral damage is overrated, Pandora.”
“Very funny.” I stuck my tongue out at him.
“I know.” His gaze slid over the struggling soldier I was restraining. “I will hold him.”
“Like hell you will.” An angry, possessive urge raged in my blood. “I caught him. He’s mine.”
“You didn’t catch him. The cat did.”
“My cat caught him. So he’s mine.”
“You’re being ridiculous. I am stronger than you. I’m better able to restrain him.”
“You didn’t restrain the first guy all that well,” I snapped.
Harker hit me with a glower—and then with his fist. I hit him back. Since my hands were full, I had to use my magic to do it. My spell slammed his head against the wall. The impact was powerful enough to leave him dazed.
Now was my chance. I hurried past him, taking the stairs up. I would be the one to deliver the soldier to Nerissa’s office, not Harker. My prisoner. My victory.
“Leda, wait!”
I kept running up the stairs. Harker was right behind me. As I reached the final step, he grabbed my foot and gave it a rough tug. I slid down the stairs, and Harker grabbed my prisoner. My head bounced off a hard step. The anger burning inside of me fizzled out.
I rose slowly. Harker stood at the top of the stairs, watching me. The anger had gone out of his eyes. H
owever, the soldier he held was snarling and struggling like a savage, enraged animal.
“We were affected,” I said, rubbing my head. “I snapped out of it when my head hit the step.”
“And I snapped out of when my head hit the wall.”
I shivered. “This—whatever this is—is getting out of hand.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, and together we dragged the struggling soldier to Nerissa’s office. Miraculously, we made it the rest of the way there without any further excitement.
“We got you an active sample, Doctor,” I declared as we stepped into the room.
Nerissa immediately jumped up and circled to the frontside of her desk, her tools in her hands. “Bring him to the cot.” She snapped her fingers at two of her assistants. “Hurry. Hold him down as I run some tests on him.”
They pinned him to the cot, but one of the thrashing soldier’s hands broke free and knocked the tool out of Nerissa’s hand.
She picked it up. “A little help, Leda.”
I clamped my hands around the soldier’s free arm, locking it down. He tried to break free, but he couldn’t move an inch. His face red, he glared daggers at me. I merely smiled.
Nerissa glanced at the four holes in Harker’s hand. The shape was undeniable. “He slammed a fork through your hand?”
“No.” Harker waved his glowing hand over the wound and it healed. “Leda slammed a fork through my hand.”
Nerissa looked at me, a worried wrinkle forming between her eyes.
I let out an exasperated sigh. “I only did it because he tried to steal my cake.”
“And she slammed me against a wall,” Harker added.
“You’d better test Leda,” Harker told Nerissa. “She might have been infected as well.”
“Me?” I shot back, my anger simmering again. “No, she should test you, Harker. You were the one acting strangely. I was just defending my property. Twice.”
“Angels.” Nerissa rolled her eyes. “See, this is why the First Angel doesn’t put two angels in the same territory.”
My anger died, replaced by embarrassment. She was right. I was acting just like an angel.
