He gave me a curious look.

“What I meant was, they aren’t what the Pilgrims and the Legion think they are. They were not made by only gods. Some of the pieces were forged in the fires of hell. They are relics of both heaven and hell.”

“Nyx has had me following whispers of ancient weapons, powerful relics forged in hell but lost on Earth. The demons are trying to reclaim them. She needed my ability to track objects of dark power.”

“You’re after the same thing as Colonel Fireswift. He is looking for heavenly weapons, you for hellish ones. But they are one and the same,” I realized. “Weapons of heaven and hell. And Osiris Wardbreaker is after them all.”

“How do you know this?” he asked me.

I told him about the visions I’d had in the city and the dream I’d just woken from. He didn’t look at me like I was crazy. He looked intrigued.

“Are you well enough to travel?” he asked.

I pushed off my blanket. “Are we taking a field trip?”

“Yes, back to the Black Plains.”

I tried to get out of the bed, but my legs collapsed under the strain of my own weight. Nero’s arms flashed out, catching me.

“Maybe you can carry me there?” I joked.

“Your body is healed,” he said, drawing a knife as he sat down beside me on the bed. “It’s your equilibrium, your magical balance, that’s off.”

He sliced the blade across his wrist. I immediately felt my body go alert, like every cell in it was drawing me toward him, toward his blood. But I hesitated.

“Hurry,” he urged me. “We don’t have much time.”

I took his hand in mine, bringing his wrist to my mouth, and I drank deeply. His blood tasted like pure, undiluted Nectar—the food of the gods, the song of my soul. It poured down my throat, flashing through my veins like raging river, cascading, building, burning. Need crashed through me, driving me hard and fast into a dizzying state of raw arousal.

I pulled away suddenly, before I did anything rash. I glanced down at my hand, which on his thigh. So much for not doing anything rash. He chuckled as I removed my hand from his leg.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked me, tapping his finger against the cut at his wrist. The skin sealed together before my eyes.

“Yes. Much better.” Well, except for the dark, wanton thoughts flashing through my head, reminding me that Nero and I were alone—and that we were already in bed.

“I like this dress,” he said in a silky voice.

Apparently, no one had bothered to change me out of my evening gown. Come to think of it, it had probably been Captain Somerset’s idea.

“I bought it because I thought you would like it,” I told him.

“That is a dangerous confession.”

“I like living dangerously.”

“That is an even more dangerous confession.” Nero’s fingers brushed though my hair, caressing my scalp, even as his mouth dipped to my throat. “You smell so good. I can hardly resist taking a taste.”

“Then don’t.”

“Leda.” The word was a plea, a demand.

“Bite me, Nero.”

He locked his hand around my waist, tugging me roughly against him as his fangs pierced my skin. “Your blood tastes different.” He grasped. “Even more delicious.” He drank faster. Pain and pleasure twisted together inside of me, pulsing against my skin. His hold was hard, possessive.

“Nero,” I gasped. “I’m getting dizzy.”

He held onto me, drinking greedily.

“Nero. Stop.”

He didn’t stop. His hold was tight. I wasn’t sure he was even still here with me. He’d gone someone else, somewhere dark and dangerous.

I made a fist and hammered it into the side of his head. His whole body froze for a moment—then he jumped off the bed, backing far away from me.

“Leda.” His eyes trailed down my neck, burning with guilt.

“I’m all right.”

“I can’t drink from you again.” He brushed his glowing hand across the punctures in my neck, and they healed. “As much as I want to.” He traced his hand up my jaw. “As much as I can think of nothing else.” Silver flashed in his green eyes, and then he was on the other side of the room, as far away from me as he could physically be.

“Nero.”

“We have to go,” he said. “We have a rogue angel to stop.”

14

Distractions

We traveled to Purgatory on board a private airship owned by an old friend of Nero’s. As far as I could tell, Dominic was completely human. I hadn’t even known Nero knew any humans.

It was a good thing he did, though, because we couldn’t trust any supernaturals right now. Technically, this was Colonel Fireswift’s mission, so we weren’t supposed to interfere. Nor would we ask to join. Nero didn’t trust Colonel Fireswift after what he had done to me, and neither did I. I saw what he’d done with just normal weapons and magic. If he got his hands on the weapons of heaven and hell, he would hurt people. I felt that in my gut, and I’d learned to trust my gut.

Not that Osiris Wardbreaker was any better. The first thing he’d done after defecting from the Legion was butcher an entire town. That meant we couldn’t let him get the weapons either. That meant we had to find the relics, stop a rogue angel, and do it all without letting anyone know we were there.

“Why do our plans always sound so impossible?” I asked Nero.