We headed down the hall toward the garage. I ignored Nero along the way—or ignored the back of his head anyway since he was ahead of me. I didn’t mind the broken bones; I’d had plenty of them since joining the Legion. But I was pissed off as all hell that he’d broken them to stop me from saving that woman. It was my choice whether I wanted to get myself in trouble, not his. There was this pesky little thing called freewill that he regularly forgot existed. Just like an angel. Maybe Calli was right. Maybe Nero wasn’t as different as I’d thought.

I climbed into the truck, sitting between Drake and Captain Somerset. I was so glad that Nero was in the other truck. I didn’t think I could hold my tongue all the way to the Lost City if I’d had him sitting next to me.

The trucks pulled out of the garage. As they turned around the temple to drive toward the wall, a flicker of light caught my eyes. Two bodies hung from the temple’s chimney, swinging in the wind. Royal’s men. Their throats were slit in cold, merciless strokes. They were killed quickly, before they could fight back. There wasn’t a single other scratch on them. This wasn’t an act of anger or malice; it was an execution.

I looked at the truck driving beside us. Nero met my gaze, his eyes devoid of emotion. He’d killed those men. I knew he had.

“I think he left them there for you,” Drake said, wide-eyed.

“That is one strong signal, Pandora,” Captain Somerset commented.

“But he said we’re not allowed to interfere in local affairs.”

“Technically, that’s true,” Captain Somerset said. “But Nero always took it upon himself to learn the rules to the letter. Because when you know the rules inside and out, you can find all the loopholes. Legion soldiers may not interfere in local criminal activity, unless it pertains to the mission or it takes place on the gods’ property. Such as the grounds of a Legion office or a Pilgrim temple.”

“They weren’t on the gods’ property.” They’d been across the street from the temple.

“I bet they were standing on the gods’ property when Nero executed them.”

She was right. Nero was a stickler for the rules. He’d probably lured them onto the Legion side of the border—and then killed them for their crime.

“Loophole,” I muttered.

“Proposition.”

I looked at Captain Somerset. “Sorry?”

“Nero has it bad for you. I thought a little fun could cure him, but it seems he only wants one cure. You. And now he’s stringing up dead criminals to let you know.” She shook her head. “Why couldn’t he have gone with chocolate?”

“Because he’s an angel, that’s why,” Morrows said from his seat behind the cannon. “And you know chocolate isn’t the same. Not at all.”

“Chocolate is less complicated.”

I felt like I was missing part of the conversation—a conversation about my love life that now involved everyone in the truck except for me. I glanced at Drake, who shrugged. Well, at least I wasn’t the only one who didn’t get it.

“It is a fine line between loopholes and the path to self-destruction. What game are you playing?” Captain Somerset demanded.

“I’m not playing any game.”

Captain Somerset gave me a critical look. “This is how angels fall. And you just might be the catalyst to his downfall. I like you, Pandora, but if you ruin Nero, I will kill you.”

I could see it in her eyes that she meant every word. With Harker gone, she was Nero’s best friend, and she was fiercely loyal to him.

“I haven’t done anything,” I told her.

She continued to glare.

“What would you have me do?” I demanded.

“Honey, I think you know what you need to do to make him stop stringing up dead bodies.”

I returned her glare. I was not going to have sex with Nero just so Captain Somerset would stop sharpening her knives—literally. She had her weapon out and was sharpening the blade. Ok, so it wasn’t a knife. It was a sword. Which was even worse, actually.

“So, what kind of sword is that?” I asked her, trying to change the subject.

“A fire sword.” Flames burst to life, sliding in silken waves across the blade. “A fine weapon. They’re sharp and cut through flesh easily, especially when they’re nice and hot.”

I had a feeling she was talking about my flesh. “I’d better go guide our driver.” Before this conversation turned any further downhill.

6

The Lost City

I stared out across the Black Plains, the expanse of scorched earth where nothing natural grew. There were plenty of unnatural things growing, though, products of magic gone wrong. We passed a forest of black trees, their trunks shining like hot bubbling oil. From their alien branches, crunchy leaves rustled in the wind, creaking like an old staircase.

Ten minutes into our journey, a giant beast that looked an awful lot like a tyrannosaurus rex tore out of the forest, hurling splintered tree trunks aside. Two of the Pilgrims in our truck began to shout hysterically, like they’d not actually expected to be attacked by monsters on the plains of monsters. Actually, I was surprised. I’d heard the beasts’ numbers were growing, that they were venturing closer to the wall, but this close? It looked like the rise of the crime lords was just one the problems Purgatory was facing.

The truck’s cannon roared, and Morrows laughed with glee as he shot the red beast full of ammunition designed to penetrate tanks and the scales of giant dinosaur-like monsters that shook the earth as they ran. The dinosaur went down, but there were three more already closing in on us—and even our Magitech-powered trucks weren’t fast enough to outrun them.