“Many of the Legion’s initiates don’t survive the first cut,” Calli told me. “The flood of magic kills them outright.”
“I’m too stubborn to die.”
Her eyes were as hard as diamonds, her stance as unmovable as a boulder. She’d used this attack before, mostly back when I’d been a teenager. I’d backed down more than a few times because of it—but I wasn’t backing down this time.
“If I die, Zane is lost to us,” I said. “That’s enough to keep me fighting.”
Calli swept me into a hug. “You are a foolish girl,” she said against my cheek. “You have a big heart, but you could still learn a thing or two about using your head. Why didn’t you talk to us first? We always make decisions together.”
“Not this time,” I said. “You would have tried to talk me out of it. Or you’d have signed up with the Legion yourself. That would have been truly foolish.”
The Legion had a minimum age but no maximum age. And I saw it in Calli’s eyes now that she would have enlisted herself to keep me out. She’d have signed her own death sentence by joining. As good as she was, she couldn’t keep up with the younger initiates. And her magic wasn’t as malleable. The infusion of magic would have killed her, no matter what she thought.
“I know you think I’m crazy, but I’ve thought everything through, and I’m the best chance we’ve got,” I told her. “Gin and Tessa are too young, and Bella is too gentle for the Legion. They would eat her alive. She wouldn’t make it through the Legion. And neither would you, Calli. I’m the only one of us who even has a chance.”
The train expelled a loud cloud of steam.
“Go,” I said, nudging them toward their ride home. “You have to go.”
“Come with us,” Gin pleaded.
“She can’t now,” said Tessa. “The Legion took her. She can’t run. They’d chase her.”
I smiled at them all. “Go. I’ll be fine. I’ll write to you whenever I can. And send you treats from the city.”
“Leda,” Calli began, then stopped.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m a survivor.”
“You always have been,” Calli said, resting her hand on my cheek.
The train whistled again, and she turned, hurrying my crying sisters toward the nearest carriage. They went inside and, as the train began to pull out of the station, they took their seats at the window. I stood there and watched until the train was out of sight. Then I wiped the tears from my eyes and turned to face my new life.
I walked back to the Legion building. I had over an hour before I needed to be back there, but I saw no reason to dawdle. There was a bimonthly orientation for all new Legion initiates, every two months, always on the first of the month. That was today. That was a small sliver of luck in a wretched situation. The sooner I got this over with, the sooner I’d be on my way to saving Zane. It was time to embrace my fate.
When I arrived, one of the Legion soldiers, a woman who looked only a few years older than I was, was waiting. She had the insignia of a hand on the jacket of her feminine suit. She showed me into the back. This time, we walked all the way to the end of the hallway of closed rooms, then pushed through another set of double doors to enter a grand ballroom where twenty other initiates waited. I could tell they were initiates from the lack of Legion insignia on their clothes—and from the anxiety hanging over them like a storm cloud.
Even more opulent than the entrance hall at the witches’ university, the enormous ballroom was pure decadence at its finest. The floors were cherrywood, and the walls were painted in the most elaborate and vibrant scene of angels I’d seen yet. Three long buffet tables covered in overflowing floral arrangements, very posh finger foods, and tiny glass shot glasses of juice sat against one wall. It looked like we were here for a posh cocktail hour, not down and dirty paranormal bootcamp. I didn’t know what I’d been expecting, but it sure wasn’t this. I was really underdressed for this opulent affair. Thankfully, so were most of the other initiates.
Most, but not all. The doors burst open, and eight men and women strode into the ballroom like they owned it. Like the other initiates, they were also wearing denim and leather, but it was all designer-made and really expensive. As I ventured closer to the ground they’d claimed around the cheese spread and wine, I understood how they could each afford an outfit it would have taken me a month to save up for. They were all exchanging stories about their parents. Every single one of them apparently had an angel for a mother or father.
As I listened to them brag about all the heroic things their parents had done, two initiates joined me beside the fruit bowl. The woman was about my height and as willowy as a model. With her perfect complexion, slender figure, and hair that flowed like a crimson waterfall, she looked like she belonged on a runway—not ready to take the plunge to join an elite military legion that might very well kill her. The man beside her was a head taller than the both of us and built like a football player. Amusement curled his lips. He was clearly the sort of person who could find the humor in any moment, no matter how dire.
“Legion brats.” The woman rolled her eyes at the group of angel spawn. “They think they know everything.” She looked me over and declared, “You seem normal.”
“I guess that’s a matter of opinion,” I replied.
The woman laughed. It was a friendly, genuine laugh, and it made me like her immediately. “Ain’t that the truth?” She extended her hand to me. “I’m Ivy.”