by Ella Summers
“I know, and I designed the Legion wrong.” Ronan’s admission dropped like a stone.
The silence dragged on.
“I can’t believe you just said that,” Nyx finally spoke.
“Duty over happiness.” His laugh was rough, cynical. “I created the Legion around the same time that I chose the gods over the woman I love. You can be mad at me all you want for hiding Leon from you, but I just want you to know that I did it for you.”
“I know.” Nyx sighed. “And I’m not mad at you, Ronan. Not really. I’m mad at myself. Seeing Leon there… It reminded me of everything that led up to his defection. It was a reminder of my own failings, of how things had gone so very wrong. I lost so many angels to the demons. I should have trained them better. If I had, they wouldn’t have left.”
“You need to stop blaming yourself for what Leon and the other defectors did. It happened long ago. It’s done. We can’t change what they did, and it’s not your fault. We need to focus on the soldiers we have now.”
“Our soldiers now are exactly what I’m worried about, Ronan. What if history repeats itself? The demons are already preparing to make a move on the Earth again. We’ve seen the signs. Things are playing out just like they did the last time. The demons’ incursions into this world—they’re recruiting people to their cause, building an army here on Earth. It starts with humans and supernaturals, then they begin stealing soldiers from our own army. Like Pandora.”
I was about to leave, my guilt over eavesdropping at last overpowering my burning curiosity, but the sound of my name made me pause.
“Leda?” Ronan said. “What about her?”
“I can’t shake the feeling that the demons are going to steal her from us.”
“Well, of course they will certainly try. They know her worth as well as we do. Her ability to control monsters alone makes her a tempting kidnap target.”
“Not kidnap, Ronan. Steal. Leda will be Leon all over again. The demons will make her theirs.”
“You had a vision.”
“Yes. And in that vision, I saw Leda at the head of a demon army.”
Ronan was quiet for a few moments, then he said, “That doesn’t mean it will happen.”
“I once had a vision of Leon in the demons’ army. I thought it was a nightmare, just a fear, so I ignored it. But it came to pass.”
Nero had told me there were people who possessed the power to catch glimpses of the future. He believed one of these people had sent him future visions of me the day I joined the Legion. Someone had pushed us together, someone with this rare magical gift. Could this mysterious someone be Nyx? And if so, why?
“Leda is not Leon,” Ronan said. “She loves her family, friends, and the people of the Earth far too much to betray them. She would not turn to the demons’ side.”
“Unless she didn’t feel like she was betraying them,” Nyx countered. “What if she felt that by joining the demons, she was protecting everyone?”
“Why would she feel that way?”
“Your comrades on the gods’ council didn’t exactly put their best foot forward at the recent Legion training. She might think the world would be better off without the gods.”
“That was nothing but minor squabbles and bickering, Nyx. The demons abducted and tortured Leda. I don’t believe she has any delusions about them.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“This isn’t just about losing an angel or a soldier.”
“As we both know, Leda is more than just an angel or a soldier.”
“This is about losing a friend,” Ronan continued. “You care about her.”
“I can’t afford to care about my angels. Not like that. Not after what happened last time.”
“So you’ve closed yourself off.”
“That’s just how it has to be. You, of all people, should understand that.”
“I am not most people, Nyx. And I’m not one of your angels. You don’t have to close yourself off to me.”
“I’m not closing myself off.”
“You don’t think that I’ve felt it, the way you’ve been since you awoke? You are keeping yourself locked away from everyone. You are here, and yet you’re not really here. Not even with me. You’re holding back from me.”
“I am doing no such thing.”
“The whole no-lying thing goes both ways, Nyx. You are holding back from me. The least you could do is admit it.”
“I…” Nyx sighed. “You’re right. I am holding back. But it’s easier this way.”
“Easier but not better. Since when did the First Angel ever settle for ease at the expense of excellence. Or are you no longer the demigod who marched into Faris’s training session as a young woman and fought tooth and nail to beat everyone there, to make it to the top? Because that is the Nyx I admire. That is the Nyx I fell in love with.”
“I still am that Nyx.”
“My Nyx?”
“Always,” Nyx said, her voice for the first time unsteady.
I heard many small objects crash to the floor…and then kissing. Clothing tore. Something hard and heavy slammed against the wall. A moan shook the walls.
Wow, that had certainly escalated quickly.
I left just as quickly, hurrying back to my room. I’d already eavesdropped outside Nyx’s office for too long. I’d just been so curious about what they had to say about me—and eager to gain any insight into the person Nyx was. I’d always admired and feared her, but now for the first time I thought I actually understood her. Everything she did was to protect her Legion, her soldiers. She was a mother dragon, and like a mother dragon, she feared losing her babies. She would do anything to hold onto us.
And that vision Nyx had seen of me at the front of a demon army… Ronan was right. It couldn’t be real. It just couldn’t be. I’d never join the demons.
My heart racing, I threw open my door and ran inside. I nearly slammed face-first into Athan. The telepath was standing in the middle of my room, and from the look on his face, he’d obviously been waiting for me.
“You’re unsettled,” Athan commented, ever cool and collected. Some would even call him dispassionate.
“I’m fine.”
“While I can’t read your thoughts, your body language tells me that’s not true.”
“My body language is just fine, thank you very—” I stopped. “Wait, you can’t read my thoughts? How is that even possible? You’re like the most powerful telepath in all the worlds.”
“One of the most. Not the most,” he said. “And you are an angel slowly blossoming into a deity. Your magic has grown significantly since we last spoke.”
“Yeah, that’s kind of the effect you’d expect from the double doses of Nectar and Venom that you gave me. I’m lucky that magic boost didn’t kill me.”
He gave his hand an easy, dismissive wave. “You were never in any danger of that.”
I was pretty sure he believed it. He’d known what I was when he’d spiked my drink with Nectar and Venom, and he knew a lot about the nature of magic.
“I have the Fever,” I said.
“Yes, I’d noticed.”
Yeah, he must have been feeling the telepathic bursts of emotion pulsing out of me.
“No female angel has had the Fever so soon after her transformation. So why me?” I asked.
“These are uncharted waters, you understand, so I can’t be entirely sure. But I’d imagine it’s because Nectar and Venom are not a poison to your body. They merely help you realize what you truly are inside, what you were born to be. So instead of overloading your body, making it a barren wasteland of poison, the Nectar and Venom made you a fertile field. It made you blossom, not wither.”
I frowned at the analogy.
“The Fever suits you,” he told me. “You are glowing.”
“Yes, my halo is glowing. I know. Woohoo.” I swirled my finger around in an unenthusiastic circle. “So how do I make it stop?”
“Make it stop? Why would you w
ish to do that?”
“Because my Fever is affecting all the gods, angels, and Legion soldiers within a few hundred miles of me, making them go wild with emotion. Nyx and Ronan are having a hard time warding me so my emotions don’t bleed off to others.”
In fact, I was wondering if the ward was already splitting, if my rather raunchy state of being had affected Nyx and Ronan. Maybe my magic had been responsible for their sexy encounter in her office.
“Oh, you’re affecting other people. Yes, I can see how that might be a problem.”
Athan said it like it had only just occurred to him that my Fever might be affecting others. For a telepath who could read almost anyone’s mind, he sure was sometimes oblivious to the other people around him.
“Yes, it’s a problem,” I said. “One I was hoping you could solve for me.”
“How could I possibly help?”
“You’re a telepath. I am broadcasting these emotions telepathically. Maybe you could block them from reaching others or something. As a powerful telepath, you should be able to cast the telepathic ward better than anyone else.”
“You flatter me, Leda, but no, I can’t help you.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
Maybe my plight amused him.
“Can’t,” he replied. “I can read thoughts, but I can’t cast wards or do any of those flashy spells. If I could, I wouldn’t have needed you to rescue my sister, now would I?”
Oh, right. He possessed no offensive magic, just like his sister. Damn it.
“What are you doing here anyway?” I asked him.
“I am here to thank you for saving my sister, and to show you I’m sorry for manipulating you into doing it.”
“You could have sent me a thank-you card. Or a sorry-I-screwed-up box of chocolates. Why come all the way here?”
“Because I’ve come to properly repay the favor. I don’t consider cards or chocolates to be fair payment for my sister’s life. I’m going to give you something far more valuable: answers. I’m going to help you figure out why Colonel Battleborn was seen selling Nectar and research notes on Meda’s monster manipulations to a black market enterprise.”
“It was a shapeshifter using Colonel Battleborn’s face, undoubtedly,” I said.
“Undoubtedly.”
Wow, repeating after me. That was helpful.
“So are you going to tell me the answer, or are you going to make me jump through hoops for a few hours first?” I asked him.
I was placing my bets on the latter. Like the gods, the Everlasting enjoyed playing games.
“I don’t know the answer to this mystery.”
“You don’t?” I said, surprised.
“I’m telepathic, not all-knowing, Leda. I don’t know who is impersonating the dead angel, but I do know someone who knows more about magical artifacts, potions, and poisons than anyone.”
“Who?”
“A magic smith named Arina. She possesses the ability to craft artifacts as powerful as immortal artifacts, yet she does not require an immortal soul to make them.”
“That’s possible?”
“I didn’t think so, but apparently Arina has figured it out. She’s a singularly gifted individual.”
“And let me guess. She lives on another world far from here.”
“She once lived on another world,” he told me. “Currently, however, she lives in New Orleans.”
“Right here in this city?”
It seemed fortune didn’t just favor the brave; she favored the Angel of Chaos.
“Yes, she isn’t far away,” said Athan. “Come with me. I’m going to introduce you to her now.”
Why did I feel like one of those children in the old fairy tales as the mysterious stranger led her to her doom?
“It can’t be that easy.”
“Who ever said it would be easy?” Athan said, a smile on his lips.
26
The Last Phoenix
Athan, Angel, and I walked down the street, a box full of broken monster collar pieces in my hands. A clamor of blenders, coffee machines, and frying pans broke the early morning stillness, heralding in the new day. I inhaled, drawing in the spicy-sweet scent of cinnamon-swirled pancakes and French toast. My tummy rumbled in hollow protest. I was hungry. Again. My magic-charged body burned through food like the Legion’s trucks guzzled fuel.
“What can you tell me about visions of the future?” I asked Athan.
“There’s a particular vision that has you worried.”
Gods, demons, and other immortals rarely asked questions. They made statements.
“Before Nero and I had ever meant, Nero dreamt of me,” I said. “And of our daughter.”
“Fascinating.”
“And Nyx dreamt of me leading a demon army. She had the same dream of Leon, the First Betrayer, centuries ago. Is any of it real?”
He braided his fingers together. “How should I know?”
“Aren’t future visions part of the same branch of magic as telepathy?”
“Well, yes. Kind of. But the art of vision-seeing is a highly-specialized practice. Only some telepaths can do it.”
“And you aren’t one of them?”
“No, I am not,” he said. “The power to go into a state that welcomes in the visions—a sort of dream state—is a very rare ability. And even for those who possess this ability, the vision is rarely concrete or coherent. You see, future visions are echoes of magic, rippling down the fabric of time. And sometimes someone with the gift manages to catch a future fragment as it passes by.”
“Are the future visions real?”
“Yes. And no.”
“Meaning?”
“Like I said, the visions are magic echoes. You don’t know how many times they’ve bounced off things, how distorted they are, by the time they reach you. And then your mind has to interpret them. It’s like trying to put together a puzzle without having all the pieces. Your mind naturally fills in holes with your own fears and dreams.”
“So what we think is a future vision could be a complete distortion. When Nyx thinks she sees me, it might be someone else entirely leading that army. She just fears she will lose me to the demons, so her fears warp that vision.”
“That is one possibility,” he said. “Perhaps, you are leading a Legion army. Or there is no army. You might just be dancing at a party. Everything the First Angel saw could be true, or nothing of it might be.”
Like a bunch of warped fears hanging on a skeleton image.
“And what about Nero’s vision of me and our daughter?” I asked. “When he had the dream, he’d not yet met me, so his mind couldn’t have filled in my image.”
“That is indeed a very specific vision. There are two possibilities I see. Either it is a rare true future vision that made it to him intact. Or it is not a future vision at all, and someone projected those images to him as he slept. Given the timing of his having the vision right before he met you, I am tending toward the latter.”
“That’s what we thought, that someone sent Nero the vision. Someone wanted him to take an interest in me.”
“Be careful, Leda,” Athan warned me. “Just because the vision wasn’t from the future, that doesn’t mean it isn’t your future.”
I frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“Someone could have sent Nero that vision in order to make it your reality, to make it come true.”
“And because Nero saw me in a vision, he thought I was important. Therefore, he took an interest in me.”
“Thereby making you a part of his future.”
I rubbed my head. “This whole thing is so messed up.”
“The future usually is.”
But who would send Nero visions of me? Who wanted him to meet me? I was back to the same old questions Nero and I had been pondering for days, and we hadn’t made any progress. I didn’t think it was Nyx’s doing. She seemed as perplexed by her visions as we were by Nero’s.
“Here we are,” Athan declared.
We’d stopped in front of a colossal white building that dominated an entire city block. Artistic lighting lit up its face and stone columns. It looked like a bank—no, like a museum.
“The Museum of Magic,” I read off a gilded plaque.
Athan was moving again, but he didn’t head for the front door. He swung around the back of the building. I followed closely behind him. We entered the museum through a back door that was, surprisingly, unlocked.
A large office awaited us beyond the door. Shelves of neatly spaced and labeled boxes covered one wall, reaching up high into the vaulted ceilings. There was enough space up there for an angel to practice flying maneuvers. For those without wings, a tall sliding ladder offered access to each level of the storage shelves.
“The museum doesn’t open until noon on Sundays,” said the woman behind the desk. She didn’t even look up from the device she was tinkering with. The tip of her high red ponytail tickled her shoulder as she worked.
“Arina,” Athan said.
The woman did look up now, albeit hesitantly. “Athan.” Her wary eyes watched him closely, cautiously. She did not look excited to see him. “What are you doing here?”
The smile Athan gave her was so serene that it was making even me feel nervous. “Arina, this is Leda. Leda, meet Arina Phoenix.”
“Phoenix? What an unusual name,” I remarked.
Or was it a nickname? A nickname that denoted her powers. Athan had told me the specialist we’d be meeting came from another world. Could this woman be a phoenix like my sister Gin, a supernatural being from another world with the power to be reborn?
“Arina’s people possess quite striking family names. These names do not, however, indicate their magical abilities,” Athan told me. “Phoenix. Griffin. Pegasus.” He arched a single brow at Arina. “Dragon.”
Arina scowled at him. “Tell me why you are here, or leave. I’m not in the mood to play games today, Athan.”
“They live on many worlds, connected by magic mirrors,” Athan continued with the anthropology lesson, oblivious to Arina’s discomfort. “Each family runs a corporation by the same name. Phoenix Magic Technologies is legendary for its magical objects of power, counting even gods and demons among their customers.”
