“Nyx thinks we will.” His thumb traced small, slow circles into my hand. “I called her on the drive back. She confirmed that she’d known all along about what the Pilgrims were after. She’s keeping too many secrets.”
“Well, she is an angel.”
“What do you think I am keeping from you?”
“A lot, I’m sure. The Legion guards its secrets well.”
Disappointment flickered in his eyes, and he dropped his hand.
“I’m not asking you to tell me,” I said.
He watched me for a long, silent second, then he replied, “You are too good.”
“For the Legion?”
“To survive this world.” He brushed his hand against mine. The spark of heat returned, taking on a life of its own, waking me up as though from a dream, from a life I’d never been truly living.
Arlo came with our dinner, and we unlinked hands.
“So, what was it like growing up as the only known child of two angels?” I asked Nero. “Did you always have powers, even as a child?”
“From an early age, yes. I couldn’t control those powers very well, but they were there.”
“Do the children of angels always have these powers before they join the Legion?”
He finished chewing the piece of chicken he’d cut off, then said, “You’re wondering if you are the child of two angels.”
“The thought did cross my mind. I don’t react to Nectar like other people. I react like you do.”
“In response to your question, yes. All children with an angel parent manifest at least some powers, even early on. Did you ever manifest any powers?”
“No.” And there went my theory.
“There is something different about you,” Nero said. “Something special. That’s why Nyx put you on the Legion fast track.”
“There are a lot of people on the fast track now. Why? What is the Legion gearing up to do? Fight?”
Nero took a long, slow sip from his glass. “Asking questions like these will get you into trouble.”
“So you’ve warned me before. And so has Captain Somerset. In fact, she’s warned me about more than just that.”
“What do you mean?”
“She is scary sometimes, you know? I’m getting the feeling that she’s going to skewer me with her swords if I don’t sleep with you. Or if I do sleep with you. I don’t think she’s decided yet.”
Nero’s face was impassive.
“I think you really need to teach me to use a fire sword. Just in case.”
“I take it from that statement that you don’t plan on sleeping with me.”
“Well…I…um…”
A deep, low noise rumbled in Nero’s chest.
“Are you laughing at me?” I demanded.
“Yes.”
I glowered at him. “That wasn’t funny.”
“Firstly, it was very funny. And secondly, I told you not to glare at me like that until you have the magic to back it up. You don’t, Pandora.”
“Yet.”
A slight smile touched his lips. “Yet,” he agreed.
“So about those fire swords,” I began.
“What about them?”
“I need you to teach me how to wield them. I want to be able to do more than just spin them around while trying not to burn myself.”
“Not burning yourself is an important first step.”
“I’m serious, Nero. I want to master them.”
“I’m not sure I want to help you set things on fire. You’re dangerous enough already.”
“Very funny.”
“When you gain the power of elemental magic, you’ll be able to set more than swords on fire. Clothes lines, sticks, ropes, everything in your vicinity that you want to misuse as a weapon.”
I stuck my tongue out at him.
“Very scary, Pandora.” Nero slipped a vial out of his jacket.
“Nectar?” I whispered, recognizing the liquid flowing like shimmering rainbow lava inside the tiny bottle.
“Just the drops.”
Nectar drops were the diluted form of Nectar, the drug of choice of the Legion’s soldiers. A drop or two added to a drink made us happy, high, and really relaxed, the perfect combination after a long and grueling day.
“Would you like some?” he asked me.
I hesitated, even as my tongue darted out to slide across my lips. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“I think it’s a very good idea.” Under the table, his leg brushed against mine, causing me to jump a little in my seat. “You’re way too tense.” He poured a drop into each of our drinks. “Here, we’ll do it together.”
“How can I refuse an offer like that?”
We lifted our glasses and drank. The Nectar danced across the pineapple flavor, enhancing it. Making it richer, sweeter. The hot river of magic poured down my throat, setting off a cascade reaction, a dozen tiny explosions of ecstasy. My muscles, tense from a day of fighting monsters and hiking through ruins, grew liquid. I hadn’t felt this relaxed since, well, the last time I’d had Nectar. The spa trip with Ivy last month, while fun, couldn’t even compete with this.
I gazed across the table at Nero. A pale ethereal light glowed around him, that soft angelic halo contrasting with the wicked fire burning in his eyes. My gaze slid across the smooth fabric of his shirt. There wasn’t a single wrinkle—or a single bead of sweat—on it. It was perfectly pristine, as though it had been ironed onto him. Or melted on. I wondered if he was as hot as I was—or if angels even sweat.
“You are making this all too easy, Pandora.”
“Making what too easy?”
He leaned in, the hard muscles of his chest shifting against his shirt. “Seducing you.”
He captured my lips with his mouth. His kiss was slow, searing—and ruthlessly erotic.
“Would you like to skip to dessert?” His words fell against my jaw, dipping to my throat.
Did he even have to ask? A hard, base hunger had taken root deep inside of me. If we didn’t get out of here now, I was going to do something that broke every rule in the Legion’s decorum rulebook.
“Yes,” I said. My top felt like a straightjacket against my swelling breasts.
His smile was pure sin, the retreating whisper of his final kiss an unspoken promise of dark delights. “We’re ready to order dessert.”
I blinked, my mind unable to process his words. I looked up to find our ever-attentive waiter standing beside our table. Oh, that dessert.
“What would you like?” Nero asked me casually.
“I…”
“Do you need a moment?”
He was right. He really didn’t want me to gain the power to set things—and wicked angels—on fire.
“I’ll have a slice of apple pie.”
Arlo looked at Nero.
“Same,” he said.
Arlo bowed and left. Nero continued to stare at me, his eyes alight with mischievous delight.
“You enjoyed that,” I growled at him.
“I will. Dessert is an indulgence but one worth every bite.”
“Not the dessert. Confounding me.”
“I am merely upholding my promise,” he replied calmly, clearly unbothered by the looping mental fantasy of setting his hair on fire that I was broadcasting to him loud and clear. When I gained elemental magic, he was in for trouble. “You wished for us to have dinner someplace public. I get the feeling you’re still not certain you want to be involved with me.”
“I know I want to be with you. It’s the other guy I’m not sure about.”
“What other guy?”
“The angel.”
“I am the angel.”
“Not always.”
He mulled that over for a moment, then said, “If you want to be with me, the ‘other guy’ is part of the package.”