“Any Legion soldier can.”
“And what about the rest of us? What if we need to activate it?” the Snowfire vampire demanded.
“Ah, planning on taking off without us?” Constantine Wildman said.
“Of course not. But what if we don’t all survive this? If we can’t get back to the airship, we’ll be stranded here.”
Basanti grinned at the vampire. “You really believe that you will survive when four soldiers of the Legion do not?”
The Snowfire vampire shut his mouth.
“Enough talk,” Nero said, his voice crisp. Like a whip. “Jump.”
Constantine Wildman looked over the edge of the airship. “We’re several hundred feet up in the air.”
“Then you’d better all hold onto your buddy.” Basanti grabbed the witch and swung him onto her back.
Harker took the Sea King. Nero carried the Vermillion vampire. And I got the Snowfire vampire who’d admired my hair. Lucky me.
“You can’t fly,” my passenger pointed out.
“No, but I excel at falling.”
Then I jumped. The two angels dove over the edge of the airship, their dark wings extended. Basanti and I didn’t have the luxury of feathers. We fell, using our elemental air magic to ride the wind currents down toward the ground. Basanti moved so gracefully, like a swan dancing on the wind. Or a surfer riding a wave.
I was…well, less graceful. With the help of my magic, I followed the air currents, but it was a bumpy ride. It was a vast improvement over the last time I’d fallen out of an airship, however.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” the Snowfire vampire asked me.
“Yes.”
I felt the air currents rippling against my skin, hard and ragged. The vampire gripped me tightly.
“We’re experiencing turbulence.” His voice shook.
“That’s nothing. The last time I fell out of an airship, it was so much worse. There aren’t even any monsters trying to eat us this time.”
He buried his head in my hair.
I threw an annoyed look over my shoulder. “Did you just smell my hair?”
“It’s so pretty,” he cooed. “It soothes my nerves.”
“If you bite me, Fangs, I’ll give you an express ticket all the way down to the ground.”
I concentrated on slowing my fall, on making it smoother. I passed into a calmer patch of air. The wind was gentle, soft, caressing. Like silk ribbons tickling my skin.
We hit the ground a bit harder than I’d expected, but at least I stayed on my feet. We were even the first ones down. Obviously. We hadn’t coasted so much as dropped.
The angels followed, landing smoothly. Nero set down like a black swan on a serene lake. Harker’s landing was nearly as smooth, but from the look of intense concentration on his face, I could tell he was still getting used to his wings. Basanti set down last. She moved almost like she had wings herself. Her magic was that easy, that smooth.
She grinned at me. “It’s not a race, Pandora. There are no points for being first.”
I returned the grin. “You’re only saying that because you lost.”
She laughed.
The Sea King slid off Harker’s back. He staggered to the side and threw up.
“Oh, look. The Sea King is seasick,” taunted the Vermillion vampire.
The Sea King straightened, wiping his mouth. “That’s airsick, you moron.”
“You are all pathetic,” Constantine Wildman declared. “What will you do when we’re surrounded by a horde of mindless, super-charged supernaturals?”
“We have the Legion here to protect us,” the Sea King said.
The Vermillion vampire looked me up and down. He was clearly unimpressed. “You’re putting your faith in the wrong hands. They ran scared from just two of these infected supernaturals. They are no match for a whole army of them.”
I gritted my teeth. “We had to save a witch’s life, to get her to safety.”
The Vermillion vampire shot me a patronizing look. “Of course, dear girl.”
I could tell he thought I was a coward, but I didn’t have time to dwell on that right now. Plus I’d just remembered that I didn’t give a shit what he thought.
We pressed on across the Black Plains, following the river of supernaturals. They didn’t seem to notice us at all. As we walked, I heard a voice in my head. It tugged at my mind, whispering commands, telling me to go to it.
“Do you hear that voice?” I asked the others.
Harker nodded. “Whoever is commanding this army is telepathic.”
“Do you recognize the voice?” I asked him.
“No. But it sounds so…”
“Godly,” I supplied.
He frowned. “Yes.”
So was a god actually behind this?
The Snowfire vampire spun around, magic sizzling across his skin, building up.
“He’s succumbing!” I shouted.
Basanti shot him in the chest.
I looked down at the vampire’s unmoving body. Man, she’d moved fast. She’d managed to get him before he’d powered up, before he’d grown too strong to take down just like that.
“He’s not dead,” I noticed.
“No. It’s a heavy sedative, something from Nerissa,” she replied. “It will only last a few hours.”
“What if it takes longer than that to stop this?”
“If it takes longer than that, we’re likely already dead anyway,” Harker told me.
“Since when did you get so dour?” I asked him.
“Becoming an angel is like a kick in the teeth, a splash of ice water, of reality,” Nero said.
I looked at them, frowning. “Am I the only one who thinks we aren’t marching to our deaths?”
The Sea King’s body quaked. Basanti shot him too. “Yes.”
“Is she kidding?” I asked Nero. “I can’t really tell.”
He gave her a long, hard look, then declared, “Neither can I.”
“Basanti, you’re getting stronger,” Harker said. “Dare I hope that you’ve decided to join us in the dog race to the top?”
Basanti grinned at him. “I find myself suddenly motivated.”
“Leila’s influence?” he asked.
“That and my desire to kick your ass.”
Chuckling, Harker set his hand on her shoulder, and Nero gripped her other shoulder. They were having fun. Genuine fun. The three of them had once been best friends. I could see a hint of that former bonding between them, of that camaraderie they’d lost. That alone almost made this catastrophe worth it.
We passed by infected supernaturals, none of whom paid us any notice. Their eyes were all turned upward, up to a raised platform. We’d made it to the core of the army, where their commander stood, staring down on them.
It was Stash. He was the voice I’d heard in my head. He was the one controlling the supernatural army.
22 The War Commander
I blinked my eyes a few times, but the illusion did not fade. Because it wasn’t an illusion. This was all very real. Stash was controlling the infected supernaturals. He was behind this.
Of all the possibilities, that was one I would never have guessed. Stash was such a great guy. He wasn’t a criminal mastermind or a war leader. The shifters had only sent him to the meeting because the pack leaders couldn’t put aside their differences long enough to pick which of them would go. They’d sent the black sheep, the lone wolf, the one with no connection to any of them—so that no pack was slighted.
They sure as hell hadn’t sent him because Stash held any position of power in their ranks. Nor did he want to. He tended bar, arm-wrestled for dollar bills, and did all other sorts of odd jobs. He seemed perfectly content doing that. And, most of all, he was my friend. I knew he was a good person.
“You’ll often find that you don’t know people at all,” Nero told me. “Especially your friends.” His gaze slid over to Harker.
“For the millionth time, Nero, I would never hurt Leda.”
Nero glared at him in silence. Harker glared back. So much for camaraderie.