He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me tightly against him. We must have looked ridiculous sitting here on the bathroom floor, but right now I wouldn’t have been anywhere else. You didn’t mourn the passing of innocent souls in a warm, comfortable bathtub full of bubbles. That just wouldn’t be right.

“Thank you,” I whispered to Nero as the tears rolled down my cheeks.

He didn’t say anything, and I found it didn’t matter. The fact that he was here was enough. I cried until my eyes were dry and the hurt in my heart was starting to dull. He sat beside me the whole time, his arm wrapped around my shoulder.

“Nero?”

He glanced down at me. “Yes?”

“I don’t want to get used to this,” I said. “I don’t want to grow cold to it. I don’t want icicles to freeze over my heart.”

“You don’t have a single icicle in you, Leda Pierce,” he told me. “Feeling is as natural to you as breathing. And I don’t believe you will ever lose your humanity. Not like some of us.”

“Nero, you’re more human than you know.” I reached up to my shoulder and squeezed the hand he’d wrapped around it.

“I can’t afford to be human,” he said, pulling away.

I held to him. “Just another moment, Colonel.”

He could have broken free of me. He certainly was strong enough. And yet he stayed with me. I wasn’t sure if he was doing it out of pity or out of a sense of obligation, and I didn’t really care. Even as I intertwined my fingers with his, he didn’t pull away. He kept on holding me. My chest quivering with sadness, I dropped my head to his shoulder and mourned for the people who had died tonight, for those who’d died yesterday, and for every person who would die before this was all over.

8

Witch's Cauldron

I welcomed the training exercises the next day. I pushed myself harder than ever before, and for a time, that was enough to bury thoughts of last night’s ballroom massacre. But as I stood in my new apartment at the end of the day, my hands began to shake—and it wasn’t just from exhaustion.

“Are you all right?” Ivy asked me, coming out of her bedroom. “Are you nervous about the ceremony tonight?”

“Yes,” I answered, even as images from last night flashed through my head.

Ivy squeezed my hand. “I know you’ll make it.”

“Thanks.” I offered her a half-smile. At the moment, it was the best I could do. Between the sick clenching of my stomach over what had happened last night and my shot nerves anticipating what would happen tonight, I was a mess.

“Just think about something else,” Ivy said. “Like how great our new apartment is. Hey, we even have a bathtub.” She rubbed her hands together in glee.

Our new apartment was certainly an improvement over our old dormitory, but it was hard not to dwell on the reason for our upgrade: a batch of new initiates had come to the Legion last night and taken our place in the dorms. Terrified screams and gunfire tore with merciless finality through my mind.

No, I couldn’t think about that. I had to be strong. Zane was counting on me, and there was no time for a mental breakdown. Ivy was right. I had to think about something else. I focused on our new apartment. It wasn’t as glamorous as the apartments on the top floor of the building—those that housed Legion officers level six and up—but Ivy had spruced up the place. Scented candles and jars with incense sticks stood atop lace doilies on every table and shelf in the living room, filling the air with the sweet, welcoming scent of vanilla, lilacs, and roses.

Past the living room, four doors led to the bathroom and three bedrooms. Each bedroom was only large enough to fit a bed, a small nightstand, and a closet. I’d never had my own bedroom before. Rather than being excited about the idea, a feeling of intense loneliness filled me. I missed the old room I shared with my sister Bella back at home. My heart clenched up as I realized that I would never again live under the same roof as Calli and my brother and sisters. The Legion was my life now, but would they ever be my family?

I looked at Ivy, who was zigzagging across the room, humming to herself as she tidied up her decorations. Only a month ago, she’d lost her mother, the person she’d joined the Legion to save, but she was still carrying on. If anything, she was moving faster than ever. Training harder, decorating, dancing, and partying—basically, being constantly on the go—that was how she was dealing with her loss. And she was doing an amazing job of staying upbeat.

“You’re awesome, you know,” I told her.

“Of course she is,” Drake said as he closed the mini fridge he’d set up in the living room. It was completely filled with tiny alcohol bottles and just-as-tiny juice bottles.

Ivy beamed at us. “Just wait until you see the blankets I’m knitting.” She smoothed out the doily that sat under the pale yellow candle on the mini fridge. “And now, Leda, let’s get you ready for tonight.”

I walked into my room, Ivy right behind me. As soon as I opened my closet, she tossed a scented bundle of potpourri at me.

“For your lingerie drawer,” she said with a wink.

“Thanks,” I said, sliding open my underwear drawer. “You can’t go wrong with floral-scented panties.”

“Exactly,” she replied, grinning.

“So, I’m headed downstairs to help set up the ballroom for the ceremony,” Drake said from my door. His eyes darted from the potpourri bag to the open underwear drawer, a smile curling his mouth. “I never took you for a lace and ribbons sort of girl, Leda.”