“Captain Somerset carried Valiant ahead to the truck because he was passing out from the pain.”
I hoped Captain Somerset didn’t make good on Nero’s threat to tie Valiant to the roof of our truck. Sure, he had just nearly gotten us all killed, but he seemed like a nice guy. And we had the same goal. We all wanted to keep the angel-killing weapon safe.
“Nero. Maybe you should put me down,” I whispered since everyone was still staring at us.
“Why?”
“Everyone is staring at us.”
His arms held me in a protective embrace. “I’m not putting you down, Leda.”
Nero backtracked our path out of the city. The others followed, not saying a word.
“They are oddly silent,” I commented to Nero.
“Shh. I’m appreciating the silence. Usually, it’s impossible to shut them up. Especially you.”
“Hey, you should be nice to me in my frail state.”
He arched his brows. “I’m carrying you, aren’t I?”
“I thought you just wanted to cuddle.”
We passed the next few minutes in silence.
“What do you think of my two Pilgrims?” I asked Nero.
“Your Pilgrims.”
“Yes, my Pilgrims. I had them compelled for a solid two minutes.” I turned my hand to show him two fingers but dropped it, wincing from the pain.
“Try not to move,” he said. “Your injuries aren’t life-threatening, so I haven’t healed them. There’s no time for that now. We need to make getting out of here fast a priority. Before any more monsters come.”
Now that the high of surviving that fall was wearing off, the pain was returning with a vengeance. The broken ribs didn’t hurt as much as the bump I’d gotten on my head when the fog beast had tossed me onto the black ice.
“It hurts,” I admitted.
“But you’re tough.”
“You bet your ass I am.” I cracked a smile, which hurt as much as moving my hand had.
He sighed. “I told you not to move. For once, could you just follow orders?”
“Well, you know me.” I kept smiling. It hurt, but it was worth it to see the frustration—and more so, the admiration—in his eyes. He might have been annoyed with me for not listening, but he respected my strength for toughing out the pain.
“I know what you’re thinking. And what you’re feeling.”
I realized I wasn’t blocking him from my mind—and that I didn’t have the strength to do it now anyway.
“Anyone else would be screaming in agony at that pain you’re feeling,” he said, his tone reverent.
“If you can read my thoughts, then you know I’m screaming inside.”
“Yes, and I’m very impressed by your creative use of such colorful language. I’ve never heard anyone swear so well.”
I grinned through the pain. “I aim to please.”
“We both know that’s not true.”
“Ok, maybe not.” I winced. The pain was growing stronger.
“We’re almost there.” He glided along, moving so smoothly, not jostling me at all.
I rested my head on Nero’s shoulder. The two Pilgrims were walking behind us at a limping gait. Every so often, one of them stole a quick glance up at me.
“Are you all right?” I asked them over Nero’s shoulder.
“Our injuries are far less severe than our crime of acting against Colonel Windstriker’s orders,” one of them said, dipping his chin.
“We await his punishment,” said the other.
Nero looked back at him, shaking his head with slow disapproval. But he didn’t speak threats, not even to repeat his promise to tie them to the top of the trucks. All he said was, “I am in command of this mission, not Valiant. Not you.”
And it was enough. They nodded, lowering their eyes in shame.
“Wow, that was lenient,” I whispered to him.
Nero said nothing. I looked back at the Pilgrims again. They quickly averted their eyes from mine.
“What’s up with them?” I asked Nero. “Why are they afraid to look at me?”
“Because I went after you back there in the ruins. The fight wasn’t over, the monsters weren’t neutralized, the Pilgrims weren’t safe—and I went after you.”
I’d been so glad to be alive that I hadn’t realized what his actions meant. His mission was to protect the Pilgrims, and he’d instead dove into that chasm to save me. The Pilgrims could have died. He’d broadcast to everyone there that saving me was more important than saving them. That is why the Pilgrims were looking at me differently. Anyone important to an angel was important to them.”
We’d reached the truck. Nero set me down in the backseat.
“Try not to move during the drive back,” he said, putting a small bottle into my hands.
“A healing potion?”
“Yes, one of my own invention,” he said. “Take it. I don’t have enough magic to heal you gently, and I will need all the magic I have for the drive back. Too many of you are injured. You won’t be able to take out all the monsters alone. And the potion will help with your pain.”
“I thought what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger,” I teased.
“I don’t want you to be in pain, Leda.” He kissed my forehead. “Stay safe.”
Then he shot into the air, a determined gleam in his eyes. He was preparing to clear our path of monsters.