“You bet I do.”
We’d stopped in front of a thick dark brown door. Patterns of gemstones had been engraved into the wood. It looked like the ancient cover of an important book, one that had been handmade with no expense spared. Colonel Fireswift’s name was the focal point of the sparkling jewel arrangement.
Jace knocked on the door.
“Enter,” Colonel Fireswift’s deep voice called out.
We stepped inside. The angel’s office was as grandiose as the door. The entire ceiling was a mirror, making the room seem larger, as though it went on forever up into the heavens. The walls were covered in subdued, tastefully opulent white marble with accents of gold. There were paintings perfectly framed inside recessed coves in the marble walls, each one the picture of an angel who looked a lot like Jace and his father. It was the history of their family, generations of angels dedicated to serving the gods as soldiers in the Legion of Angels.
Colonel Fireswift sat at his desk, a massive piece of furniture carved from a single tree. I wondered how they’d gotten it through the door. With magic no doubt.
The angel was wearing the black leather uniform of the Legion. Like always, he looked ready for battle. The leather fit snugly to his wide frame, making him look even stronger, like someone who could punch right through your ribcage, shattering everything in his way. Wrecking ball. That’s the word that came to mind whenever I thought of Colonel Fireswift, both in body and in disposition. When his bright royal-blue eyes fell on me, arrogance shone in them. Like he knew he was better than I was.
I considered my options. I needed to convince him to let me join Jace’s mission so I could be there to save my sisters. The Legion would prioritize capturing the deserter over saving hostages. I knew better than to appeal to Colonel Fireswift’s humanity or compassion; he had neither. Though Jace and his father looked very much alike, Jace was different. Much to the Colonel’s chagrin, Jace possessed both humanity and compassion. After all, he’d agreed to help me by bringing me to his father and speaking up for me.
Colonel Fireswift looked me over, from head to toe. “So,” he said, clearly unimpressed. “You want to join the hunt for the Deserter.” He said it like deserter with a capital D.
I looked at Jace. Surprise flashed across his face, followed by reluctant acceptance. It must have been frustrating that his father always found out about everything.
Then Jace’s face went blank. It had all happened so quickly that human eyes would not have picked up the subtle shift in his emotions. Colonel Fireswift, however, did see it, and he was clearly not pleased with his son’s momentary lapse in professionalism. Dear gods, Jace had shown human emotion. What a crime.
I couldn’t let Colonel Fireswift’s inhumanity bother me, so I just kept smiling. “That’s right.”
Colonel Fireswift arched a single pale brow, which blended into his tanned skin. “Your sisters were among those taken.”
Nothing got past him. Except the importance of compassion and other pesky human emotions.
“Yes,” I said.
His jaw was as hard and unyielding as iron. “And now you want me to do you a favor by allowing you to go after them.”
What an asshole.
“I’m asking you to allow me to do my job to protect innocent lives,” I said. “There are still twenty-six people missing from towns all across the Frontier. And Davenport is still out there.”
Colonel Fireswift ground his teeth at the mention of the deserter. The fact that Davenport was still at large really grated on him, as though he took it personally. I wondered how long he’d been trying to capture Davenport—and how long he’d been failing miserably at it.
“I fought Davenport at the Doorway to Dusk,” I continued.
Colonel Fireswift seemed to think that over for a bit. Finally, he said, “And you survived?” He wasn’t impressed, but he did sound a little surprised.
“I’m a survivor.”
He said nothing. My continued survival must have annoyed him nearly as much as Davenport’s.
“We can get him,” I said. “I’d be an asset on this mission.”
“An asset to Jace’s mission,” he said, his eyes reflective. “To his career. To his capture of Balin Davenport, the Deserter.”
Yep, because let’s focus on what was important: crushing threats to Colonel Fireswift’s ego and advancing his son’s career. Not on protecting the human race.
“You and Jace have been neck-in-neck since the beginning of this race,” said Colonel Fireswift.
“It’s not a race.”
He ignored me. “But this game has gone on far enough. You have never been, nor will you ever be, equal to my son. He comes from a distinguished line of angels. You come off the dirty streets of the Frontier. You never stood a chance. You must finally see that now. The middle levels of the Legion are designed to set the future angels apart from those who will never be. Those who never had a chance.”
I didn’t interrupt him. He looked like he was enjoying himself immensely. In fact, I’d never seen him so ecstatic as he was right now.
The angel cleared his throat, as though he’d realized he’d gotten carried away in the moment. “Jace is in command of the mission. Not you,” he finished, his eyes harder, more professional now.
“Of course.”
“He gives the orders. And you follow them. As it should be.” He gave his hand a dismissive flick, waving us off. “Now get out of my sight before I change my mind.”
Jace and I left the angel’s office, closing the door behind us. We were halfway down the hall before Jace finally spoke.
“He agreed,” he said quietly, as though he still couldn’t believe it.
I smiled. “What did I tell you? Nothing to worry about.”
Jace shot me a hard look. “That was too easy. What did you do?”
I waited until a group of soldiers had passed us by, and we were alone. Then I stopped, dropping my voice. “Your father really wants to see you beat me.”
“I know. Not a day goes by that he doesn’t tell me I’m a disgrace to the family, that this shouldn’t even be a competition.”
“Because I am the dirt beneath your angelic feet.”
Jace gave me an apologetic look.
I laughed. “Your father is his own worst enemy. He is so intent on seeing you ‘win’ over me, that he can’t see beyond it.”
Comprehension flashed across his face. “You compelled him.”
I pinched my thumb and index finger together, so close they were nearly touching. “Just a little.”
“Your magic shouldn’t have worked on an angel. Not at your level,” he said, shocked.
“My Siren’s Song was just a tiny nudge to make him go where he wanted to go anyway. His ego did the rest.”
“He underestimates you.” Admiration shone in Jace’s eyes.
I shrugged. “That’s the dirty fighting your father abhors, that which he sees as an affront to the proper and dignified fighting the Legion teaches. If you don’t know how to fight dirty, it’s hard to defend against it.”
“I wish I had your devious mind.”
“It’s never too late to learn. We are immortal after all, so we have all the time in the world to get our hands dirty.”
He laughed.
Then, suddenly, he stopped mid-laugh. The pressure in the air had changed, like all the magic in the area was suspended, frozen in time. Nero came around the corner. The angel’s eyes were locked on me, unblinking, intense. My heart let out a nervous, ecstatic thump. He’d promised he would find me and he had. What would happen next?