Dragon's Storm (Legion Of Angels #4)(70)

I didn’t point out that Nectar was also a poison. We all knew it.

“Well,” I said, rising from my barstool. “I guess I’d better go splash cold water on my face or something.”

They waved to me, then turned toward each other. I left them to it. They had a century of heartbreak to mend, and I really hoped they could do it. I moved across the room, looking for a friendly face. I found Major Singh instead. She was standing under a blossoming cherry tree, speaking with Nero. They weren’t even flirting, but that didn’t stop a surge of anger from boiling up inside of me. I felt an irresistible, irrational urge to impale her pretty body on that pretty tree.

“Leda,” Nerissa said, catching my arm.

Soren moved in front of me, subtly blocking me before I made a scene. So this was an intervention.

“You look ready for a fight,” he said. “Didn’t you get enough of those lately?”

“Maybe just one more.” I tried to move around him.

Nerissa closed the opening. “Rumor has it the Major is a biter.”

I slid my tongue over my fangs. “So am I.”

Their honest laughter soothed the anger in me. My head cleared enough to realize that attacking Major Singh would not end well. My newfound sanity also allowed me to see what I hadn’t before: Nerissa and Soren with their arms wrapped around each other.

“I take it a lot happened while I was away from the castle?”

“Yes. The Dragons showed their true faces and trapped us all in the dungeon,” Nerissa said.

That’s not what I’d meant, and the mischievous spark in her eyes told me she knew it.

“It’s a real medieval dungeon down there,” Soren added. “We’d almost escaped when Colonel Windstriker and Major Singh smashed through the final wall, chasing the Sea Dragon.”

“He’s a real dynamite angel,” Nerissa said to me, wiggling her eyebrows.

It was an open invitation to share the details of what had happened between us—which was nothing thus far—but the chiming of the bell saved me from utterly disappointing her. The promotion ceremony was starting. As Colonel Starborn made her opening speech, Jace sidled up to me.

“It looks like you got to have all the fun and glory again, Leda,” he said, his expression equal parts humor and resignation, with a hint of jealousy.

“You got your share of glory too. You and the others drove the soldiers of the Dark Force out of Storm Castle.”

“That was but a brief battle.”

I smiled slyly. “A testament to your prowess on the battlefield.”

“Yes, I was part of the five-minute battle in which I and a hundred other soldiers drove out the Dark Force. On the other hand, you rescued an angel from dark angels, defeated the three corrupted Dragons, and saved the world from a storm that would have ended life as we know it.”

I didn’t mention that I’d been unconscious for the defeat of the three Dragons. I didn’t think it would make a difference to him.

“It’s not nearly as glorious as it sounds,” I said.

“Leda, I was trapped in a dungeon for most of the day,” he said drily. “Next to that, making sandwiches sounds downright glorious.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, your sister was also trapped in that dungeon.”

He laughed. “Actually, yes, that is some consolation. Better yet, Kendra was knocked out by stray magic when Colonel Windstriker blasted through the dungeon. She missed the whole fight against the Dark Force. Our father will be thrilled to hear that. He might even torment her instead of me for a change.”

“I’m getting the feeling you don’t like your sister very much.”

“I hate her. And I love her.” He shrugged. “It’s complicated.”

“Jace Fireswift,” Colonel Starborn called out.

Jace walked up to the stage. Alec and the two soldiers from Los Angeles stood beside the waterlily fountain. They’d survived the Nectar. Jace survived too. I held my breath when Nerissa went up there, but her magic also proved strong enough. It was down to just me.

“Leda Pierce,” Colonel Starborn’s clear voice cut through the room.

I climbed the three steps to the stage, lifting the skirt of my gown so I wouldn’t trip on it in front of all these people. Someone—probably Alec Morrows—whistled in appreciation. Admittedly, it made me feel a little better. I stopped in front of Colonel Starborn.

“Sip now of the gods’ Nectar,” she recited, handing me the gold goblet. “Consume the magic of their fourth gift. Let it fill you, making you strong for the days to come.”

“For the days to come,” the crowd repeated in unison.

I lifted the cup to my mouth, hesitating for a moment before I downed the contents in a single go. The Nectar slid across my tongue, igniting sweet sensations on its way down my throat. My breath caught, my heart stunted—frozen in the moment a cold rush of magic gushed into my bloodstream. I could feel my light and dark magic circle around each other like two warriors before a fight. The Nectar and Venom inside of me were trying to reconcile, to balance.

My heart restarted, my lungs came alive, and I drew in a deep, gasping breath. Slowly, the chill melted off my body, dissolving before the burning river cascading through me, knocking my magic up a notch. The magical euphoria, that drunk-on-Nectar feeling, kicked in. I saw everything so clearly—and in that moment, I saw Nero too.