Siren's Song (Legion of Angels #3)

“Leda?” Nero asked me.

I blinked.

“You’ve stunned her to silence,” he told Captain Somerset.

“I didn’t even know that was possible.” She waved her hand in front of my face. “I wonder how long it lasts.”

“I’m almost dead, not deaf,” I told them.

Captain Somerset looked at me and laughed. “I like you, Pandora. You’re not afraid of anybody. Or of asking questions that will probably get you in trouble.”

In the next room, the door to the medical ward swung open. Voices spilled in from the hallway. Captain Somerset rose and went to divert the doctors I could hear headed for this room.

“You trust her?” I asked him.

“Yes, I do,” he replied. “Basanti was the one who brought me here. She contacted me to tell me what happened as soon as you collapsed at the ceremony.”

I decided to trust his judgment. After all, he’d turned against his other best friend when he’d turned out to be evil. Nero had a clear head, and he wouldn’t bullshit me.

“Is she keeping guard?” I asked him as laughter rose up in the front room.

“Yes. No one knows I’m here.”

“Why do I get the feeling you aren’t supposed to be here?”

“Because I’m not.”

I frowned. “I’m getting you into trouble again.”

“I am perfectly capable of getting myself into trouble all by myself, thank you.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. I did it quietly, though. There was movement beyond the closed door. Captain Somerset was talking to the doctors, trying to convince them to go away so I could sleep. Nero watched me, his thumb drawing slow, even circles on my palm.

“What is it?”

“You had me worried. The doctors couldn’t do anything to help you after you were poisoned.”

My breath stuttered. “How did I survive?”

“Your body did it alone. It must have integrated the poison like it did the Nectar. It’s a part of you now.” He shot me a look that was part admiration, part concern. “It was Venom, the demons’ equivalent of Nectar. That’s what was in your Nectar. That’s what made you pass out.”

“What will the Venom do to me?”

“Soldiers of the Legion of Angels drink Nectar and soldiers of the demons’ own legion drink Venom. Like Nectar, Venom will change you,” he said. “The question is how much such a small dose will change you. You’ve already had so much Nectar that the effects might not be big. Maybe you won’t even notice any changes.”

“There were an awful lot of mights and maybes in those sentences, Nero.”

“We don’t fully understand the effects of Nectar and Venom. The fact that you survived a mixed dose of Nectar and Venom is remarkable. No one has ever survived both together in a single dose. That combination should have killed you.”

“So the demons’ poisoned me?”

“That is one theory.”

“You don’t look convinced.”

“I have another theory,” he said. “Colonel Fireswift.”

“I know he wants to get me out of the way, but to risk poisoning me in front of the entire New York office? That’s gutsy.”

“He is a gutsy man. And he isn’t afraid to use a flamethrower to kill a mosquito.”

“Yes, I’ve saw that firsthand when he rearranged the stone ceiling of the underground city.”

Nero made a derisive noise. “He always was a showoff.”

“Is he more powerful than you?” I asked him.

“He has raw power but no subtlety. It would be hard to kill him in a fair fight.”

“If he’s so direct, he wouldn’t use poison.”

“Colonel Fireswift is an angel, a top member of the Legion. There are rules in the Legion, rules even we angels must follow. Colonel Fireswift cannot kill you outright, but if you were to die during battle or be poisoned during the ceremony, then it would look legitimate. Colonel Fireswift doesn’t want to lose his place or the place of his son in the Legion.”

“In the Legion, do the children pay for the crimes of the parents?”

“Not directly. But one way or the other, you must atone for them. Especially treachery,” he added with an almost woeful look. Maybe he was thinking about his own father who’d gone rogue all those years ago.

“What do you know about Osiris Wardbreaker?”

“Not much. He was one of Nyx’s original angels.”

“Like your parents.”

He gave me a surprised look.

“I’ve taken the photo tour of your office.”

“Yes, my parents knew General Wardbreaker well. The originals were a closely-knit group. Wardbreaker has since moved back to Europe, so I’ve had few dealings with him. But he is an original angel, and that makes him dangerous.”

“Has Colonel Fireswift returned to the Lost City?”

“Yes, with a team of thirty telekinetics. They’ve been working day and night to dig a tunnel to the Treasury so they can secure the holy relics.”

“The Lost Relics are not holy.”

He gave me a curious look.

“What I meant was, they aren’t what the Pilgrims and the Legion think they are. They were not made by only gods. Some of the pieces were forged in the fires of hell. They are relics of both heaven and hell.”

“Nyx has had me following whispers of ancient weapons, powerful relics forged in hell but lost on Earth. The demons are trying to reclaim them. She needed my ability to track objects of dark power.”

“You’re after the same thing as Colonel Fireswift. He is looking for heavenly weapons, you for hellish ones. But they are one and the same,” I realized. “Weapons of heaven and hell. And Osiris Wardbreaker is after them all.”

“How do you know this?” he asked me.

I told him about the visions I’d had in the city and the dream I’d just woken from. He didn’t look at me like I was crazy. He looked intrigued.

“Are you well enough to travel?” he asked.

I pushed off my blanket. “Are we taking a field trip?”

“Yes, back to the Black Plains.”

I tried to get out of the bed, but my legs collapsed under the strain of my own weight. Nero’s arms flashed out, catching me.

“Maybe you can carry me there?” I joked.

“Your body is healed,” he said, drawing a knife as he sat down beside me on the bed. “It’s your equilibrium, your magical balance, that’s off.”

He sliced the blade across his wrist. I immediately felt my body go alert, like every cell in it was drawing me toward him, toward his blood. But I hesitated.

“Hurry,” he urged me. “We don’t have much time.”

I took his hand in mine, bringing his wrist to my mouth, and I drank deeply. His blood tasted like pure, undiluted Nectar—the food of the gods, the song of my soul. It poured down my throat, flashing through my veins like raging river, cascading, building, burning. Need crashed through me, driving me hard and fast into a dizzying state of raw arousal.

I pulled away suddenly, before I did anything rash. I glanced down at my hand, which on his thigh. So much for not doing anything rash. He chuckled as I removed my hand from his leg.

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