Siren's Song (Legion of Angels #3)

“I don’t know, Nero. Sierra was so…powerful. I’m just some watered-down version. You probably have a better chance of opening that gateway than I do.”

“I have darkness and light in me, Leda, but they’re not in balance. They’re in conflict.”

“And that makes a difference?”

“More than how magic you have, I believe.” He touched my face. “You survived Venom mixed with Nectar. If that isn’t proof of your light-dark balance, then I don’t know what is,” he said. “Also, I tested you.”

“Tested me? How?”

“With the beasts. What I told wasn’t completely true. Not all Legion soldiers of the third level can compel the beasts. In fact, until today, I thought I was the only person who could do it,” he said. “You see, the monsters came from gods and demons. Some were beasts of light, and some were beasts of darkness. But that changed quickly. They bred with one another. That weakened the gods’ and demons’ control over them. Slowly, their hold over the beasts faded, until a few generations later, it was gone.”

“Because the monsters are now of mixed magic. Of light and darkness,” I realized.

“Gods and demons are just two sides of the same coin. And so are their beasts.”

“How do you know all of this?” I asked him. “It doesn’t sound like something the Legion would tell its soldiers.”

“No, of course not. They would call what I jus told you blasphemy. The gods refuse to accept that they and the demons are the same. It was my mother who told me the truth of what happened, of how the gods and demons lost control of the beasts.”

Nero continued, “Humans are like gods and demons, like monsters. Our magic can be light or dark. But unlike monsters, there aren’t many of us who possess both dark and light magic in large quantities.”

“But you do,” I said.

“Because I am the child of two angels, one of light and one who turned to darkness. It is an explosive combination.” He set his hand on my cheek. “But not in you. In you, the light and dark are balanced. I controlled the beasts with raw power. You controlled them just by being. The Nectar brought out your light magic. And the Venom is now bringing out your dark magic.”

“Can all monsters be controlled?”

“Not all. Also, it doesn’t work once a battle has started. They need to be calm. And it’s best if it’s a herd, those who follow by instinct. Top tier predators are almost impossible to control. Practice this power but just don’t depend on the ability to save you in a fight.”

“Ok. I won’t.”

“And don’t tell anyone that you have the power to control monsters. It is a dangerous gift. If the gods or demons think they have any chance of regaining control over the monsters, they will not hesitate to do whatever they can to make it happen.”

Which would probably involve experimenting, drugging, and torturing us. No, thank you.

Nero turned toward the Lost City. “Ok, let’s move into the city.”



I felt like a thief in the night sneaking through the city, avoiding Legion patrols. But at least I wasn’t alone in my delinquency.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I told Nero. “No matter what Nyx thinks, we make a good team.”

“She knows we’re a great team. She just wanted to separate us for a time so I could clear my head of you. Obviously, it didn’t work.”

“If I were Nyx, I’d probably separate us too,” I admitted. “I’m a bad influence on you. Just look what’s happening here. You’re breaking rules because of me.”

“That’s not what’s happening here. I’m not breaking any rules. And neither are you,” he told me.

“Oh?” My lips curled. “How do you figure that?”

“I am here to track a weapon of darkness, the mission Nyx gave me. Our meeting is pure chance. You came here because you figured out the truth that the relics are of heaven and hell, and you puzzled out how to open the door. You were concerned that someone was trying to keep you from saving the relics, someone on the inside who poisoned you. Fearing for your life, not know who you could trust, you came here in secret to save the relics from falling anyone who would use them for great evil.”

“Nice story,” I told him.

He inclined his head.

“So, do you really think anyone will buy this load of bullshit?”

“You have to believe it when you tell the story,” he told me. “You have to sell it. She have the gods’ third gift, Siren’s Song, the power to persuade, to make others believe. And besides, you were already a siren anyway.” He was looking at me like I would be the death of him yet.

“Ok, convincing. Serious. I can do this.”

“You practice your story. I’m going to scout out ahead and make sure the way is clear.”

With that said, Nero left me alone with my thoughts. And my head was bursting with them right now. As the minutes passed, I thought about Nero, about my past, my magic, and about how it didn’t all add up because I was missing too many pieces. All I knew—and I was somehow certain of this—was that everything going on was linked. The rogue angel, the relics of heaven and hell, my being poisoned, my past, these memories, my light-dark balance: it was all part of the same picture. But how was it all connected? What did it mean?

A tall man with dark, spiky hair and pale blue eyes came running down the street, and he was headed right for my hiding spot. I’d didn’t recognize his face. Maybe he was from the Legion, but then why wasn’t he wearing a Legion uniform?

I crouched down lower. I could have sworn he looked straight at me. This was bad. Really bad. If he wasn’t from the Legion, then he was most likely a thief come to rob the Lost City of its treasures. He’d see me as competition and attack, at which point Colonel Fireswift’s men would close in around us. I had to strike first and take him down before he could fight back. I reached for my gun.

But I hesitated. There was something about him, something familiar. His scent. Yes, that was it. His scent. His scent was Nero’s scent. The moment I made the connection, the man’s face blurred, a visual hiccup rippling across his skin before the spell resettled.

“Nero?” I whispered.

He crouched down beside me behind the rusted old truck. “How did you know? How did you see through that spell?”

“I’m not sure exactly.” I took his hand in mine, lifting it to my nose. “It had something to do with your scent. It reminded me of your blood and how much I crave it. How it sings to me. How my pulse syncs to yours whenever you’re near.”

He brushed the hair back from my face. “That is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me.”

I caught his hand as it brushed through my hair. “When I recognized your scent, your face blurred for a moment.” It was so weird to see someone with a stranger’s face touch me like that. “How are you doing this?”

“It’s shifting magic,” he told me. “Glamour, one branch of shifting. It’s a mental shift, not a physical one.”

“Meaning you didn’t actually change your appearance? You’re projecting it or something into my mind?”

“Right.”

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