“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 Fireswift 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.