“Are you ok?” he asked.

“What do you think?”

He turned his eyes from my bloody clothes. “I’m sorry about my father.”

He sounded genuine—and he had helped me in the fight, while putting on a show for his father. At least I thought it had been a show.

“Have you visited the medical ward to see what the victims of Colonel Fireswift’s training look like?”

“I haven’t, but I can imagine. Angels are different from us,” he said, echoing Calli’s words. “Especially angels from the early years of the Legion. Times were different. Here, let me show you something.” He took my hand, leading me to Nero’s office. No, Colonel Fireswift’s office. It was his now.

No one was at home, but the door was unlocked. Colonel Fireswift must have believed no one was bold enough to go into his office uninvited. As we walked past the desk, I saw that Jace’s father had already made himself at home. Medals and plaques cataloging his triumphs and accomplishments hung on the walls, right beside the pictures of the Legion’s angels, past and present. I touched Nero’s picture, wishing he were here instead of his evil replacement.

“Look here,” Jace said, pointing at a large framed photo of Nyx surrounded by twelve other angels. “Nyx’s original angels. There’s Osiris Wardbreaker, the rogue we’re hunting down. A vicious angel.” He pointed at an angel who looked like Colonel Fireswift’s twin. “My grandfather.” He tapped a couple holding matching swords. “Those are Colonel Windstriker’s parents.”

The photos of the original angels and their descendants were positioned below this central picture. The photos of other angels not descended from the original angels were on another wall.

“Legacy is important at the Legion,” Jace said. “You remember how I told you Legion brats wear the name with pride? That’s even more true for those of us who come from one of the original families. We carry our history with us. Our knowledge. Our rich and beautiful traditions.” His gaze slid down to the photo of his father. “When Nyx trained the first angels, the world was a different place. It was a time when the gods and demons were at war. There were so few in the Legion and Nyx needed them to level up fast. She needed an army. Training was harsh and cruel, worse than even my father’s training.”

He looked at me. “Some of the original angels fell and became the first dark angels, back at a time when the Legion couldn’t afford to lose anyone. My grandfather was an original angel. He saw some of his friends turn against him and go to the other side. My grandfather made my father into his image, with all those same fears. My father is his father’s son, and he wants to make me in their image too. I’m not saying this to excuse him, Leda. I just want you to understand. Maybe it will help you survive the tyranny that I have for the past twenty years. Goodnight. See you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Jace,” I said, and we parted ways, each of us turning down a different hallway, heading to our apartments.

We would be leaving early. In just a few hours, we would take the train to Purgatory so we could enter the Black Plains as the sun rose. I was exhausted—physically, mentally, and emotionally—but I was not going to bed covered in my own blood. I took a shower, and when I returned to my room, there was a book on my bed that hadn’t been there before.

It was called Angels. I opened the cover to find a sticky note stuck to the title page.

Survival training, the note read in Nero’s neat handwriting.

He must have given it to me so I could learn my enemy. I sent a silent thank-you out to Nero, wherever he was right now. I would need all the help I could get to survive Colonel Fireswift and his games.

11

In the Midnight Hour

We rode the train back to Purgatory. Our team had more than doubled, so we’d had to bring in more trucks along. Captain Somerset sat on my right side. She was staring at me like it was my fault that Nero had been reassigned, and she was right. It was because of me. Nyx clearly wanted him to spend time away from me so he could clear his head of the nonsense I’d put there.

“Nero will be back, right?” I asked Captain Somerset, thinking about how comfortable Colonel Fireswift was getting in Nero’s office.

“Maybe. Or maybe not. The First Angel might reassign him permanently.”

“Did he say what his mission is?”

“Why? You thinking of running out after him?”

“No, he can take care of himself.”

Captain Somerset shot me a weird look. For not the first time, I couldn’t decide whether she was happy or just plain pissed off at me.

Drake and Jace sat in the seats facing us. Jace was trying to engage Drake in a conversation.

“So, you were a football player,” he began.

“Yes.”

“I heard you were pretty good.”

“They called me the Dragon.” That said it all right there.

Jace nodded. “Were you ever tackled down?”

“Yes. It took five guys.”

He showed Jace his teeth. It was a dangerous smile. Drake was so friendly with everyone. He must have really hated Jace. Maybe because of the way the brats had treated Ivy. Drake wasn’t the sort to blame people for the sins of their fathers. Just for their own sins.

Jace didn’t talk after that, and Captain Somerset wasn’t feeling very chatty either. The rest of the train voyage passed in silence. It was so completely unlike the last time we’d traveled to Purgatory.