Dragon's Storm (Legion Of Angels #4)(14)

“How are we going to do that?” I asked.

“You’re going to carry them, of course.”

My bones groaned at the promise of more pain. “All of us?”

“No, I’m going to observe while the three of you carry them.”

I frowned at her. “You’re stronger than I am, so you should carry them.”

Captain Somerset snorted. “Pandora, you keep forgetting that the Legion of Angels isn’t a democracy.”

I sighed. So much for not being life’s bitch. “Ok, show me these vampires.” Only the prospect of seeing Nero again soon kept the despair out of my voice.





5





Precipice





It was warmer in New York. The weather lay on the precipice of spring, just waiting to take the plunge. Dirty black slush was thick in the streets, and freezing rain fell from the sky, pecking at my face like cold needles. It was considerably less romantic than the fat snowflakes and winter wonderland back in the Wilds. But at least there weren’t any monsters here in the city, just crowds. Unlike the monsters, the people split out of my way at the sight of my Legion uniform.

As soon as we’d gotten back to the Legion office, Captain Somerset had run off in search of a hot shower. I would do the same shortly, but first I had a stop to make.

A brick building lay before me, a warehouse that had been converted into an apartment building at some point. I chuckled as I passed the fat naked cherub statutes outside the entrance. Nero owned this building. There was just something too funny about an angel owning a building with cherub statues. The chubby cute angels of mythology had nothing to do with the real thing.

I passed under the entrance arch and followed the rotating door inside. A grandiose lobby spread out before me. With its majestic water fountain, magically-tinted windows, and gold handrails, the room resembled a cathedral more than the entrance hall of an apartment building. All that was missing were the walls painted with angels and the armies of supernatural soldiers bowing before them, sappy looks of utter devotion pasted on their faces.

As I walked past the bar, I paused for a moment to glance at the rows of colorful alcohol bottles laid out in perfect lines behind a glass closet. The illustration on one of the labels caught my eye: a picture of a witch in a corset, her pale hair tucked around a tiny top hat. I couldn’t help but think back to Marina Kane, the witch who’d joined the Legion to save her family’s honor. A distant airship floated over the witch’s left shoulder. The text bubble coming out of her mouth promised that the drink within the bottle was like a trip up into the heavens.

“No, thanks. I prefer Nectar,” I told the fictitious witch.

“I never should have left. You’re so lonely that you’re talking to yourself.”

A smile crept up my lips, threatening to consume my whole body. I turned around to face Nero, and the sight of him took my breath away. His wings were out, spread out behind him in a vibrant tapestry of luminous blue, green, and black feathers that rivaled the most beautiful paintings on Earth. He sure liked to make an entrance.

“Nah,” I said with a nonchalant shrug.

Do not stare. Do not stare. Nero knew he was gorgeous, and he used that fact to his advantage.

“I’ve always talked to myself,” I told him.

“That does not befit a soldier of the Legion,” he replied, his lower lip turning downward in disapproval.

I wanted to taste his mouth. I settled for allowing him to taste my sarcasm.

“No.” I smirked at him. “It really doesn’t.”

He watched me for a few silent moments, his eyes burning right through me. Suddenly, he rushed forward, swallowing me in his arms. My heart lifting in joy, I squeezed him to me. I’d missed him so much. I hadn’t truly understood that until now. Though we’d seen each other just a few hours ago in the Wilds, that hadn’t been the same at all. That had been all business. This was different. It was just the two of us and no one else. Finally.

“What’s that smell?” Nero asked, inhaling the scent of my hair.

“My shampoo. It’s cherry blossoms.”

His mouth dipped to my neck. He kissed me softly. His hands tensed on my shoulders, and he pulled away.

“It’s Colonel Fireswift.” Nero’s voice dropped to a savage whisper. “His scent is all over you.”

“We trained with him yesterday evening,” I said. “He’s made it his newest mission in life to kill me.”

“You grappled.”

“Technically, he grabbed me and threw me against the wall and broke my arm. It hurt.”

Nero’s hand traced down my arm. “You should not train with him,” he said in a dangerously soft voice.

“I don’t have much of a choice.”

“He’s dangerous.”

I arched my eyebrows. “As opposed to the nonthreatening angel before me?”

“I will always keep you safe.”

“I can handle Colonel Fireswift. He’s mistaken if he thinks he can kill me off so easily.”

Nero pressed lightly against the big, black bruise on my arm, and I winced in pain. How did he even know where the bruise was? It was hidden beneath my clothes.

“Apparently you’re not handling him so well,” he commented.