“The First Angel has put me in charge of this office until further notice.” His eyes flashed in triumph as they met mine. I’d never spoken a single word to the guy, and he already hated my guts. And now he was in charge. “Colonel Windstriker has been reassigned.” He spoke the words with a sense of finality, as though he never expected Nero to return.

Whispers rose from the crowd, and eyes turned in my direction. It seemed the events of last night’s adventure in the Lost City were common knowledge. And now they all thought it was my fault Nero was no longer here.

Colonel Fireswift lifted his hand into the air, and the whispers died out. “Things will be different here from now on. You’ll find that I am not as lenient as Colonel Windstriker.”

Jace slid into the seat beside me, looking positively ill. If Colonel Fireswift’s own son was afraid of him, the rest of us didn’t stand a chance.

“The First Angel wants you all to be ready,” Colonel Fireswift told us.

No one dared ask what it was we were getting ready for. The hard look on Colonel Fireswift’s face made it clear that frivolous questions would not be tolerated.

“Your updated schedules will be arriving shortly.”

Hundreds of phones buzzed simultaneously. I looked down at my schedule, which was blocked off for the mission on the Black Plains. Drake’s was the same.

“He neglected to schedule in time for sleep,” Ivy said drily, showing us her phone screen.

“That isn’t a mistake,” Jace said.

For the first time, Ivy looked like she actually felt sorry for him.

I’d lost my appetite. Not that there was time to eat anyway. According to Colonel Fireswift’s sadistic schedule, I had training in Hall Five with Jace. And the colonel himself would be overseeing this session.

An hour later, I had a broken arm and a bloody lip. My face was smeared with blood. My hair, which had started the training session in a ponytail, now fell across my shoulder. It was stained with my own blood too.

Based on my blurred vision and the persistent ringing in my ears—not to mention my complete inability to stand upright without swaying to the side—I was pretty sure I had a concussion. My body was a tapestry of fresh cuts and blossoming bruises. Colonel Fireswift believed in training with real weapons—and in fighting to kill. Jace wasn’t really trying to kill me, despite his father’s continued commands to do so.

The first five minutes of training had gone ok, up until Jace had knocked my sword from my hands, and I’d retaliated by throwing his metal thermos at his head. Colonel Fireswift had shot me with a telekinetic blast for my impudence and lack of proper decorum—and then promptly removed all such items from the room. Now it was just me, Jace, and the devil himself. Whose name was Colonel Fireswift.

“She’s barely standing. Knock her down now!” Colonel Fireswift snapped at Jace.

“There’s no honor in that,” his son replied.

“What has Windstriker been teaching you?” Colonel Fireswift demanded. “Honor is for fencing matches and ballet recitals. This is the Legion of Angels. We stand between humanity and its destruction, between good and evil. Soldiers of the Legion do not flinch, and they do not hesitate. We act, swiftly and mercilessly, to strike down the fiends. Before they strike down you.” He waved Jace aside. “I will show you how it’s done.”

Colonel Fireswift faced me, but his words were for his son. “The most dangerous monsters are not the beasts beyond the wall. They are the ones who look like us—supernaturals who serve demons, rogues who only serve themselves. Osiris Wardbreaker, what is he?”

“An angel,” Jace said.

A blast of telekinetic magic slammed into him, hammering him against the wall, holding him there.

“Try again.”

“A rogue.”

A knife rose from the floor and shot at Jace, piercing his wrist.

“A traitor.”

A second knife nailed his other wrist to the wall. Jace gritted his teeth but didn’t make a noise. My stomach turned as I began to realize this wasn’t the first time Colonel Fireswift had taught his son a lesson in this manner.

“My enemy.”

The third knife took Jace in the stomach.

“You’re getting there,” Colonel Fireswift said. “But you need to dig deeper. Why is Osiris Wardbreaker your enemy?”

“Because he betrayed the Legion.”

The fourth knife sank into Jace’s thigh.

“He is your enemy because he is you,” Colonel Fireswift told him. “He represents what you could become. That is threat he and his rogue kind represent. Not the flashy magic they throw around, but that dirty little truth that we can all fall into darkness.”

He waved his hand, and the four knives lodged inside of Jace broke free and dropped to the ground. Jace dropped with them. He peeled himself off the floor, leaving bloody smudges on the smooth surface. I expected Colonel Fireswift to throw him a healing potion. Instead, he threw him a sword.

“You can prevent your fall into darkness by identifying your triggers—your weaknesses—and eliminating them.” The Colonel turned toward me again. “And you must do the same for your soldiers. We’ll start easy and work our way up. Soldier, why did you join the Legion?” he asked me.

Little did he know, he’d just kicked off his interrogation with the one question I could not truthfully answer. Colonel Fireswift could not find out about my brother. Ever.