I grasped for a diversion and found only sass. It would have to do. “Don’t give me that look, Nero. It’s not my fault she picked someone not on your list. Why didn’t you put me on the list, by the way?”

“As I said, you’re not ready,” he replied coolly.

“I can do this. I can investigate. I did these kinds of things back in my old bounty-hunting days.” I smirked at him. “I am a first rate snoop.”

“Which is why Nyx wants you on the team,” he said. “But this is far more dangerous than anything you’ve faced before. And it’s too early.”

“The First Angel doesn’t think it’s too early.”

“Nyx put you on my team because she believes you can think for yourself and because you are scrappy.”

I grinned. “So basically all those things you don’t like about me.”

“I do like you. Too much for our own good.”

His hand flashed out, catching mine. As his thumb began to trace small circles across my palm, my inner voice screamed out in panic, but I didn’t move. And I didn’t have to. He dropped my hand and took a step back. I tried not to feel too disappointed.

“This is dangerous,” he said.

“Aw, you’re worried about me,” I teased. “I promise not to pick a fight with those witches so they have no reason to throw their calculators at me.”

“This is serious, Leda. Witches aren’t to be taken lightly. Especially if they’re working with the demons.”

“Do you really think the demons are behind this?”

“It’s a distinct possibility. They did turn witches to their side before. Some of those turned witches might still be at the school, working there or studying as students.”

“I’ll be careful,” I promised him.

“It’s not just the witches.” He moved to the cabinet behind the desk and opened a drawer. “There is a challenge you must face first.” He set an antique glass bottle down on the table.

“Is that…”

“Yes,” he said. “The gods’ second gift, Witch’s Cauldron.”

That’s what Nyx had meant by the promotion. Level two, here I come.

“Tomorrow evening, we will have the ceremony. Prepare yourself.”

I almost laughed. How was I supposed to prepare myself for that? At about this time tomorrow, I would drink from the Nectar of the gods once more. And then I would either be granted the second power of the Legion—or be granted an early grave.

“Get some rest, Pandora,” he told me. “You’ll need it.”

Thus dismissed, I left his office, but I didn’t go straight back to my dorm room. I took the long way down the corridor, using the time to settle the nervousness bubbling inside of me. Sure, I’d said I was ready, but I hadn’t realized I’d have to survive another ceremony first.

But this is exactly what you wanted, said a voice inside of me. You need to gain more magic so you can find Zane.

The rational part of me knew that voice was right. This was exactly what I needed. But the dark, terrified part of me wouldn’t listen to reason. It kept flashing images of my own death through my head. And if I died, who would save Zane? Only someone who loved him could link to him from so far away. That’s how that kind of magic worked. If I didn’t make it, that left Calli and my sisters. And the only way they could gain this magic was by joining the Legion too.

No! I clenched my fists, my fear hardening into determination. I would not let them risk their lives. It was up to me to do this. I would survive, and I would save Zane. There wasn’t any other way.

With that settled, I headed back toward my room. I didn’t make it far. A lieutenant I didn’t know ran past me, then he just stopped.

“Don’t stand there gawking,” he said. “Hurry. We need to contain the situation.”

I ran alongside him. “What situation? What’s going on?”

Screams and the roar of gunfire echoed down the hall, answering my question. The Legion was under attack.

7

Humanity

It wasn’t an attack; it was a massacre. When the lieutenant and I burst into the ballroom, it took a moment for me to make sense of the crowd of frightened people cowered before a line of Legion soldiers—and then I remembered what day it was. Today was the first of October. Every two months, on the first of the month, the Legion held an initiation ceremony open to anyone brave or desperate enough to risk their life for a chance to join our ranks. Two months ago, I’d been one of the people standing there, watching people die as I wondered if I would survive the night.

Except this time was worse, so much worse. Dead bodies littered the floor, and it wasn’t just the Nectar that had killed them. Half of them had died from gunshot wounds. The initiates must have panicked when the Nectar had started killing the people in front of them in line. They were holding back now, more afraid of the certain bullet to the head than of the fifty percent chance of their body overloading from the Nectar. They weren’t running, but they weren’t still either. Their bodies twitched, and fear rolled off of them in nauseating waves. Frozen, I stood there and watched, trying to contain the horror tearing through me. Every fiber of humanity in me screamed in desperate protest at the inhumanity of it all.

Past the wall of leather and steel and magic, past the crowd of terrified strangers, Nero stood beside a fountain of gurgling crimson liquid. His wings were out, glowing with a heavenly beauty that seemed to mock the fear hanging heavy in the room. His skin glowed too, flushed with magic, but his eyes were as cold and hard as green diamonds.