Home > Witch's Cauldron (Legion Of Angels #2)(13)

Witch's Cauldron (Legion Of Angels #2)(13)
Author: Ella Summers

I’d just finished telling him the story of the time Zane and I had chased an escaped thief through the town’s sewage system. We’d caught him, but by then we’d stunk so badly that Calli wouldn’t let us enter the house until we stripped down in the front yard and she shot us with a high-pressure hose. She’d burned our clothes. As I finished the story, Nero’s mouth thinned into a hard line.

“Ok, so maybe that wasn’t the most appropriate story I could have told you, but I do have worse ones. It wasn’t the only time I had to go through the sewers,” I said. “But I guess an angel would never do something so uncouth.”

“You would be surprised at what uncouth things I’ve done in my life, both before and after I got my wings.”

Now we were getting somewhere. “Do tell,” I said, leaning forward eagerly.

“Perhaps another time.”

“You’re such a tease.”

“I’ll answer one of your questions if you answer one of mine.”

“Ok, I’ll play.” I grinned at him. “What have I got to lose? You already know my biggest secret. Ask away.”

He didn’t waste time. “Is there something between you and Zane?”

“Not blood, if that’s what you mean. I told you we’re not related.”

“I remember.” He looked into my eyes for a few long moments, as though he were trying to read something in them.

“Then what…” I snorted. “Oh, that. I don’t have the hots for him if that’s what you mean. He might not be my brother by blood, but he is my brother in my heart.”

Nero remained silent, his face etched in marble.

“Wow, that was a really silly thing to waste your question on,” I told him. “You must be miffed.”

“Alcohol makes you bold,” he said.

I arched my brows at him. “The question is, does it make you bold?”

“No, angels are immune to mundane alcohol. I just like the taste of wine.”

I chuckled, rubbing my hands together with glee. “Now to come up with a really good question.”

“You already used your question,” he informed me coolly.

“When did I…” I frowned. “You mean when I asked you if alcohol made you bold? That doesn’t count. I didn’t mean for that to be my question.”

“Whether you meant it or not, you asked it. And rules are rules.”

“But—”

“That was a really silly thing to waste your question on,” he cut in. “You must be miffed.”

I folded my arms across my chest and glared at him. “Suddenly, this game isn’t fun anymore. You play mean.”

“The game has always been the same,” he said. “You’re just now beginning to understand the rules.”

What did that even mean? I was too drunk to try to figure it out.

“The Legion is about pushing yourself beyond your limits,” he told me. “And when your limits grow, you push against those too. Again and again. That is the secret to gaining the gods’ gifts, the secret to leveling up your magic.”

“So, basically, you’re telling me the gods reward the stubborn and the restless.”

A small smile twisted his lips. “I suppose that’s one way of putting it.”

“I know how much you love to teach by example.” I glanced at the salmon ladder. “Care to use your new toy to offer a demonstration of this stubborn, restless quality the Legion needs in its soldiers?” I tried to keep a straight face. Since I was smashed, I probably failed.

“Ladies first,” he said with perfect politeness.

“Uh, no. I think I’ve had too much to drink for that. The bar would slip right off the edge.” My hand flew to my forehead. “Then hit me in the head.”

“That would be a valuable lesson. You must be ready to fight anywhere, anytime.”

“If vampires storm the room, I’m sure you can hold them off while I nap,” I said, brushing a strand of hair from his face.

He caught my hand, magic rippling across our connection. “You let your guard down too easily.”

“And you don’t let it down easily enough,” I shot back.

In a flash, he had my arms pinned to the sofa. He leaned in to whisper against my ear, “You must be ready for battle at any time.”

“Not against you, you crazy angel. You’re on my side.” The hot kiss of his breath felt too good, so good that even I in my inebriated state knew I was in trouble if I didn’t get free of him. I pushed against his hold, but he was too strong. “Let me go.” I tried to kick him. He trapped my leg easily.

“You must always be ready,” he said. “A threat can come from anywhere, even from the place you least expect it. Stay alert. Don’t trust anyone.”

“Even you?” I asked, shoving against his unbreakable hold.

A dark look shone in his eyes. “Especially me.”

I wasn’t making any more progress in freeing myself than I had this morning when he’d trapped me during our one-on-one training session. My arms and legs were pinned, and he was too far away for me to head-butt him. This called for drastic measures. I turned my neck and bit down on my own shoulder. As my blood rose to the surface, Nero’s eyes widened, a blue-silver sheen sliding over them, masking his natural emerald color. That moment of distraction cost him. I pushed him off of me and retreated to the other side of the living room. Adrenaline kicked in, shooting my heightened metabolism into high gear. The haze of alcohol began to clear from my mind.

   
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