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Angel's Flight (Legion of Angels Book 8)

Page 17

by Ella Summers


  From the bright, homemade signs the people outside the gates were holding, they were here to catch a glimpse of me, the Legion’s newest angel. Many names were written on those signs. Pandora. The Angel of Chaos. The Angel of Purgatory. The Angel of the Plains of Monsters. I was certainly racking up titles fast.

  I was the angel who’d brought civilization here to the Frontier, who was going to rid the world of monsters—at least if the handwritten text on their posters were to be believed. They had hope in their hearts and stars in their eyes. I didn’t know how I could ever live up to their lofty expectations.

  I turned away from the window and climbed the stairs. The top floor of this multi-level suite contained a bedroom and a bathroom.

  I passed the bathroom first. Its shower was of waterfall proportions. A huge hot tub, large enough to fit at least twenty people, sat in the middle of the tiled room. What the hell had the district lord done in here? Parties? Orgies? I shook the thought from my mind. I really didn’t care to think about that.

  I reached my new bedroom. The room’s highlight was definitely the ornate canopy bed, where Angel was already making herself comfortable. It was larger than any bed I’d ever seen. A dinosaur could have fit in that bed. Maybe that was a good thing. More than once, I’d woken up tangled in my own wings. They sometimes came out during my dreams, a reaction to my emotions. With this big of a bed, I’d have more than enough space for my wings. In fact, Nero and I could fit easily, wings and all, and still have room left over. My mind latched onto that tangent, imagining Nero in my bed.

  I stopped those thoughts cold in their tracks. I had only half an hour until I was supposed to address my soldiers—and the whole Legion, for that matter. I didn’t have time to daydream about Nero, not when I still had no idea what to wear to my own introduction ceremony.

  Most soldiers wore formal evening attire to official ceremonies. However, Nero always dressed in the standard black leather Legion uniform for these functions. I looked through my closet. My wardrobe wasn’t large enough to fill the room-sized closet, but what I did own was already hung up along one wall. My clothes had been delivered and sorted before I’d even arrived. I flipped through my choices.

  Angel slipped past me to enter the closet, rubbing her side against my leg.

  “What do you think?” I held up the Legion’s hot weather wilderness uniform: a tank top and hot pants.

  She meowed.

  “I know. It’s not quite right,” I agreed. I showed her the all-leather ensemble, the uniform that Nero preferred.

  Angel hissed.

  “I know, I know. It’s far too hot right now for that.” I glanced at the blue evening gown on the rack. “And I don’t feel like an evening gown either. I’ll be wearing a dress soon enough at my wedding.”

  Angel pounced on a brown boot.

  “That’s not a bad idea,” I told her, nodding.

  I pulled out a maroon-red singlet top. Next came a pair of high boots worn over hip-hugging denim tights. I accessorized with a thick leather belt. The outfit was casual yet stylish, sleek yet rugged—just what I wanted Purgatory to be.

  The town should have all the perks of civilization, without any of the stifling, uptight seriousness. It should be a little rough and rugged around the edges. That was part of its charm. We’d maintain that charm, while at the same time, we’d polish up the place a bit, making it safer and cleaner. And we’d push back the monsters to reclaim a piece of our world.

  That’s the statement I wanted to make with these clothes.

  “Well, what do you think?” I asked Angel, turning before her in my chosen outfit.

  She purred.

  “Glad you approve.”

  With my wardrobe sorted, I moved on to my hair. I did it up in a side braid. Then I moved on to something harder. I manipulated my magic until my wings were just the right shade: white on top, the color slowly bleeding to pink, and finally culminating in dark red tips.

  By the time I had that all worked out, the clock told me it was time to go. I left my room, moving out of the west wing. I descended more stairs than I had in a long time, finally coming to the ballroom.

  Past the gold-and-cream doors, a beautiful hardwood floor spread out like a tranquil, glossy lake. Twin sweeping staircases arched up to the upper level, the way lined in sparkling trees with branches that dripped strands of gold, silver, and diamonds. Outside these walls, there were people struggling to feed themselves on the streets of Purgatory, yet the district lords had hoarded decorations which could have fed the whole town for months. Or could have funded a hospital. Or done essential repairs to the sheriff’s station so that it could actually contain the convicts inside. Disgust rose in my throat, angry and acidic.

  Legion soldiers filled the ballroom, and all their eyes were on me as I walked to the center stage. Harker looked amused by my choice of outfit, like an angel had never before claimed her territory dressed in jeans.

  Nyx was there too. And Ronan. She was turned pointedly away from him, still clearly hurt and angry at him for keeping secrets from her.

  “Soldiers of the Legion,” I said from the stage, my voice loud and clear. After all, I was speaking to the whole Legion now, to all its angels and soldiers. And I was speaking to all the people outside, the people of my territory, watching this ceremony being projected onto the Magitech wall.

  “Today marks a new era not only for Purgatory, but for the entire Earth as well,” I continued. “Centuries ago, our world changed, the day the monsters came. No one knew why the monsters came, and no one saw them coming. Within days, they had all but overrun the Earth.

  “Some people said it was humanity’s punishment for its sins. Others said it was the demons who’d unleashed the beasts on us. But one thing we know for sure: powerful beings stepped in. They called themselves gods, and they stood against the monsters.

  “They built walls between Earth’s remaining cities and the plains of beasts. They gave us food and weapons—but most of all, they gave us magic.

  “From the survivors of humanity, they built their army, soldiers with the magic of vampires, witches, shifters, fairies, and all kinds of other supernatural beings. And the best of the best, the top of their Legion, they made into angels. With this new army, the gods won the war against the demons, pushing them back into hell.”

  It was a simplification of the truth, but it was a powerful message, none the same. And it was good propaganda. After all, it wasn’t just the world watching my speech. I didn’t doubt the gods’ eyes were trained on me right now too.

  “The monster problem, however, was not so easily fixed,” I said. “The beasts remained. Two hundred years later, the battle still rages on Earth, but piece by piece, we are going to take back our world.”

  I heard raised cheers from the people outside, beyond the gates.

  “And Purgatory is where this battle begins. No more are the district lords who exploited you for far too long. Today, you become something greater: the bright spark of hope that will sweep across the Frontier, changing not only your lives, but the lives of every person on Earth. Purgatory will become a better place, a safer place. And you will all contribute to this glorious future. We’ll build a hospital. We’ll make much-needed renovations to the school. We’ll build new shops.”

  More cheers.

  “Because the monsters won’t be pushed back by only weapons and magic,” I declared. “They will cower before the light of hope shining from us, from our town, from all the Earth. We won’t simply endure; we will thrive! That is the image we will show to the monsters, the criminals—to anyone who threatens the Earth. We will take our world back!”

  The cheers from outside were almost deafening. I bowed to the cameras, then walked off the stage, hoping they’d all gotten my message. The soldiers of the Legion. The other angels. And the gods.

  “The whole town seems to have joined in cheering your ascension,” Ivy commented as the party began.

  Dance music was already pumpi
ng out of the speakers, and the buffet tables were loaded down with enough food to satiate even me.

  “I guessed that meant they liked the speech,” I told her, winking.

  She chuckled. “Indeed.”

  Drake and Alec stood on either side of her. Nyx had transferred them, among others, to my office. And Basanti had passed her initiates on to someone else at the New York office so she could join me here. Right now, she and her friend Claudia Vance were debating the dipping merits of the various fruit pieces beside the chocolate fountain. They’d drawn Lucy, one of the soldiers who’d been in the initiation group with me, into their discussion. Lucy had been transferred to Purgatory too. I’d requested her. She might not be a top fighter, but she was more organized than anyone I knew. She’d have the whole place running smoothly in no time.

  “Very dramatic speech,” Nerissa said as she walked up to me, her boyfriend Soren at her side.

  “Nyx told me to make an impression,” I replied.

  “You certainly did that,” Soren told me.

  Harker joined us. “The people liked your speech.”

  “And the other angels?”

  “Are you asking me if I felt threatened by your speech and am now going to make trouble for you?”

  I shrugged. “Apparently, it’s what angels do: vie for dominance.”

  “Well, it’s pretty much built into our magic.” A sly smile twisted Harker’s lips.

  “And when an angel senses weakness, he moves in for the kill.”

  “Something like that,” he agreed. “But I don’t think anyone sensed weakness in your speech. For one, not one of us can make our wings change color. They reverberated with every word you spoke. It was like watching a light and music show.”

  “I hope it makes up for my lack of a grand entrance. I didn’t think I could pull off the flying-in-through-the-ceiling stunt as well as you could, Harker.”

  He chuckled at my reference to his own angel introduction ceremony, when he’d arrived to take over the New York office. “There’s something to be said for doing things differently. No one will soon forget your ceremony—or the words you spoke. Your promise to defend your territory and the Earth was a clear warning to everyone that you would answer any threats to anyone who fell under your protection.”

  “Speaking of people falling under my protection,” I whispered to Harker as the others left us to find food. “I need to steal Nerissa from you.”

  “Dr. Harding is here to monitor you and your condition,” he replied, all humor drained from his tone. He had his business face on now. His angel face. “And as soon as your Fever has passed, I expect her to return to New York.”

  “Be reasonable, Harker. My office doesn’t have any doctors. Yours has many.”

  “You have Poison Ivy.”

  “Ivy? She’s a counselor. She heals minds, not bodies.”

  “Dr. Harding is needed in New York.”

  “She’s needed more here,” I countered, planting my hands on my hips. “I’m trying to change the world.”

  Harker folded his arms over his chest.

  I frowned at him. “You’re so stubborn.”

  “You should look in the mirror, Leda. You’re the most stubborn of us all.”

  “And that’s why I’ll win.” I flashed him a grin, then walked off.

  Harker’s laughter followed me all the way to the window. Nero stood there, watching the fireworks show that lit up the sky.

  “Those are for you,” he said. “The people of Purgatory liked your speech.”

  “Well, that, or they’re trying to blow up the front gate to kill me.”

  He snorted softly.

  “That wasn’t a very dignified sound, General,” I chided him.

  “Dignity is overrated,” he replied, a delicious curl to his lips.

  “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  I didn’t touch him, not even to brush my hand against his. Our chaperones were everywhere, and they were armed. They probably had orders from Nyx to shoot us if we got frisky.

  Care for a little excursion outside these walls? I asked Nero silently.

  What did you have in mind?

  The last time you were here in town with me, I brought you to the fanciest restaurant in town, I reminded him. But this time, I’m going to show you the real Purgatory, not the show they put on once a year for the tourists. I’m going to introduce you to the raw, uncivilized Purgatory.

  He cocked a single eyebrow up at me. Well, when you put it like that, how can I refuse?

  You can’t, of course.

  Nero’s gaze swept the ballroom. How do you plan to lose your chaperones without making a scene?

  Oh, that’s easy, I told him. The district lords left this town poor, hungry, and altogether worse for wear. But they did leave us one useful thing.

  The tunnels, he realized.

  Right. The underground tunnels don’t simply connect all the district lords’ villas; they connect all of Purgatory. And one of those tunnels just happens to have an exit directly next to the Witch’s Watering Hole, Purgatory’s favorite bar.

  22

  Witch’s Watering Hole

  Our faces masked by cotton hoodies, we followed the underground tunnels to the Witch’s Watering Hole. The bar was one of my old haunts from my days in Purgatory, and there I introduced Nero to its terrible moonshine. As someone who had never consumed any alcohol that didn’t come with a proper, legitimate label, he was rightfully horrified. We danced off our disgust to a humorous ballad—about a witch who’d fallen for a vampire—playing from the red jukebox. Overhead, the old fan turned slowly.

  “We have an audience,” Nero commented.

  I followed his gaze to the crowd gathered in front of the bar, to the trio standing by the jukebox, to the people at the pool table. Every eye in the bar was locked on us, tracking our every move. So much for sneaking a few private moments alone with Nero. Our hoodies apparently didn’t disguise as much of our faces as I’d hoped.

  Whispers buzzed beneath the ballad’s soft beat. The gist of it all was they not only knew Nero and I were angels; they’d realized I was the Angel of Purgatory, the one who had, only an hour ago, loudly and publicly declared she would free the Earth from the monsters.

  One of the angel gazers stepped forward, a sixty-year-old man with a bald head and a big belly. I recognized him immediately. His name was Dale, and back when I’d lived in Purgatory the first time, he’d been my neighbor.

  “The Angel of Purgatory,” he said, grinning as he bobbed his head up and down. “You’ve come to push the monsters back from our doorstep.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “And while you’re at it, could we get a hair salon too?” asked Cindy, Dale’s curvy wife. “A hair salon and a few of those fancy clothing boutiques like they have in New York.”

  “And an ice cream shop!” added Jak, a former classmate of mine.

  “And a spa!” exclaimed someone in the crowd.

  “What is your strategy for reclaiming the wild lands?”

  “Will the Legion of Angels be levying additional taxes on us to pay for this initiative?”

  “All the roads in town need to be repaved.”

  “Bring real booze to Purgatory!”

  “Can prospective soldiers join the Purgatory office, or must they still go to New York?”

  “Can you do something about the smell in the streets?”

  “I want a swimming pool!”

  The questions and demands shot out of the crowd like kernels of popping corn. I felt like I was stuck at the crossroads of a press conference and a kindergarten party. I did recognize some of the people in the crowd as reporters for the local paper, the Purgatory Times. Others were just bar gossips or curious citizens.

  “Tell us about the big wedding,” Cindy cooed.

  “Tell us! Tell us!” the crowd chimed.

  “There’s nothing to tell.” I held my index finger to my lips. “It’s a big state secret.”


  “You are marrying Nero Windstriker,” a young woman said, her big eyes devouring the sight of Nero.

  “The sexiest angel in the Legion,” her friend added.

  I smirked at Nero. “You’re the sexiest angel at the Legion? You never told me that.”

  “Careful.” The dark timbre of his voice shot delicious shivers down my spine. “Do not incite me, Pandora.”

  “Why not?” My smile widened. “I’m so good at it.”

  His eyes burned with sinful promises that made me wish we were alone.

  “Well, we have to be going,” I told our captive audience.

  A chorus of sighs rocked the crowd.

  “So soon?” one of them moaned in bitter disappointment.

  “But you only just got here.”

  “Pandora, let me touch your hand. It’s good luck.”

  “Let us all touch your hand!”

  Nero put himself between me and the adoring crowd.

  “Don’t hurt them,” I whispered to him. “They’re just excited.”

  “Leda, you have a lot to learn about being an angel,” he replied, eyeing our audience. “And about crowd control. You let them get completely out of hand.”

  “I let them? I didn’t let them do anything,” I protested.

  “Remember how we talked about the fear-love balance? How people need to fear us and love us?”

  “Yes.”

  He pointed at the crowd. “This is what happens when they only love you. An angel’s aura is very powerful, very seductive. And right now, they are all drunk on yours. They’re completely out of their senses.”

  “So what do I do?” I asked him.

  “You know what you must do.”

  Yes, I did. And I would hate every moment of it.

  I flipped back my hoodie to expose my face and moved toward the crowd. A flame of black fire burst out of the floor where I’d stepped. I took another step. A second flame formed, this one composed of swirling spirals of white fire. Purple flames. Blue flames. Yellow flames. Red flames. Every step I took added more color to my surging halo. My admiring fans shielded their eyes.

 

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