“I’m not going to lie to you,” I told him. “I’ve lived out here at the edge of the Black Plains my whole life, and I’ve never seen so many monsters. This is bad. Really bad.”
Nero looked worried. Well, at least as worried as he could look. There was a tiny crinkle between his eyes, but the rest of his face was as hard as marble, as unfeeling as stone. Perhaps it was that hard, unfeeling expression that told me he was worried, that he wanted to go back out there and secure the Lost Relics as much as Valiant did.
“We will depart at first light,” Nero told us. “I’m ordering you all to eat and then go to bed. I expect tomorrow will be at least as eventful as today, and I need you all fed and rested so you’ll be at full power.”
My stomach rumbled, and I wondered what Calli was making for dinner. I hoped she’d cooked enough to feed an army because I was famished.
“Leda,” Nero said.
Everyone else had left while I’d been standing there, fantasizing about dinner. Nero closed the door. Uh-oh.
“Is this about the fire swords? I know I didn’t exactly ask permission to use them. Are Captain Somerset and Lieutenant Lawrence upset?”
“Lieutenant Lawrence detailed her grievances to me on the drive back to town.”
Figured. She was probably happy to have an excuse to talk to him—and to complain about me.
“Captain Somerset was amused.”
“Amused?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Hmm.”
“She did express her concern that if your technique did not improve, next time you might set your hair on fire.”
“She was laughing when she said that, wasn’t she?”
“Yes,” he confirmed. “But this isn’t about the fire swords.”
“The flare guns?”
“Those guns are not standard issue for soldiers of the Legion.”
“I know. I borrowed it from my mom. We used to bring them with us when we traveled across the Black Plains, so I thought it might be useful to carry one. The flares are made by witches, a brew of concentrated magic designed to—”
“I know what they’re used for.”
I smirked at him. “Do you? Even though they’re not standard Legion issue?”
“Careful.” He folded his arms across his chest.
I mimicked the gesture, but I had the feeling it looked less badass on me. “Always.”
He arched a single eyebrow, daring me to tease him further. For once, I behaved myself.
“Next time you wish to bring along an unsanctioned weapon, discuss it with me first. Flare guns are a fire hazard.”
I nearly laughed in his face. “Almost every weapon in the Legion’s armory is a fire hazard, including each and every soldier level four or higher.”
He watched me with mild amusement.
“You’re teasing me.”
“How could you tell?”
“I don’t know. Must have been the sudden outburst of unfettered emotion,” I said, sarcasm dripping from every word.
He didn’t take the bait, even though I’d left it right out there for him.
“So about those flare guns,” he said instead of something, well, I don’t know, romantic. Only Morrows thought guns were romantic.
“We’re still talking about the flare gun?”
“You set a snap dragon’s ass on fire with a magic flare, Leda. Of course we’re still talking about this.”
I couldn’t tell if he was serious or amused. Probably both. I seemed to bring out conflicted emotions in people.
“Did my unorthodox battle strategy upset your prim and proper angel sensibilities?” I asked him.
“There was a strategy to that madness?”
“Sure, you just said it: to set a snap dragon’s ass on fire with a magic flare.” I smiled with satisfaction. “I bet the fiend never saw it coming.”
“Yes, that’s typically what happens when you shoot someone from behind.” He even managed to say it with a straight face.
We stared at each other for a few seconds, his hard eyes against my smiling ones. It was a real struggle not to look away from the swirling storm of gold and silver magic in his eyes.
“So, I take it from your stony silence that you want to analyze my actions in the snap dragon fight,” I finally said.
“You fought well.”
I blinked in surprise. I hadn’t expected that. “You always deconstruct my fights.”
“Not this time?”
“Oh?”
A slight smile touched his lips. “Disappointed?”
“Of course. I love analyzing my inadequacies one-by-one after the fact.”
“Go to dinner with me,” he said suddenly.
I stared at him.
“You aren’t inadequate, not even a bit,” he added.
“You’re just saying that so I’ll go out with you.”
“You already agreed to go out with me.”
“I guess you’ve got me there.”
“Yes, I do,” he replied, his voice seductive, possessive.
“Go easy on the compulsion there, angel,” I said against the heat rising under my skin.
He shrugged. “You’re immune.” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against mine as he said, “As your continued resistance to following orders proves.”
Not completely immune. “Hey, I’ll have you know that I haven’t disobeyed an order in at least a week.”
“Somehow, I seriously doubt that, Pandora.”
“Ok, so maybe I did disobey Lieutenant Ripley last week when he told me to use Saintly Suds to wash the truck, but in my defense, that was a really stupid idea. Everyone knows that Blessed Bubbles are the superior product. Anyway, I didn’t see it as an order so much as a suggestion.”
“How many times do you tell yourself that before you get ready to disobey something I’ve ordered you to do?”
“Hardly ever. I typically only think about that afterwards.”
“Stop.” His hands slid down my cheeks in a gentle caress. “Don’t confess your sins to me, or I’ll be forced to discipline you.”
“Are you really sure you want me to stop? I know how much you love assigning me pushups.”
“And how much you enjoy doing them, especially when I’m on top of you.”
Of course, he’d meant sitting on me as he sometimes did to make the pushups harder, but he’d chosen the words purposefully. He always chose his words carefully, every one placed exactly as he wanted. The innuendo was as thick as heavy whipping cream—and just as deliciously unhealthy. That’s one of the benefits of leveling up your magic in the Legion. You could survive all kinds of deliciously unhealthy things. Like angels.
I took a moment to collect myself so that when I did speak, I didn’t stutter like a fool. “I’m surprised that you want to have our date now of all times.”
“It will never be the right time, so it might as well be now.”
I liked that argument. I liked it a lot.
As Nero and I walked through the town, I listened to the night. The Black Plains were wailing tonight. The moon was nearly full, and magic was in full bloom. Dark, sinister magic that made me want to curl up in my bed until morning.
“It isn’t safe out there,” I said quietly.
“The monsters are hungry tonight. Restless.”
“So are the thugs,” I commented, glancing at the two men in trench coats who’d been following us from the other side of the street for the last two blocks.
Nero turned to face them. “Leave,” he said, that single word chilling the humid evening air.
The thugs spun around and ran the other way.
“Now, I am hungry.”
“You used a lot of magic today,” I said.