“If you insist.” He wet his lips. “I like garments with lots of lace.” His voice dipped. “And nothing else.”
“That will look fantastic on you.”
“I won’t be wearing it, Leda. You will.” His voice was rough with lust. “At least for a little while.” He tried to tackle me to the bed.
But I evaded, bouncing up to stand on the mattress. I stared down upon him. “I wish I could, honey, but I’m already horribly late.” I jumped off the bed. “I have a breakfast date with my friends.” I winked at him, then pulled on my shirt. “And a territory to run.”
He looked at me, amused. “You might want to put on some pants first.”
“Good idea.” I grabbed the missing garment off a nearby chair. “Every respectable angel starts the day wearing pants. Whether she ends the day that way depends entirely on the universe’s good graces.”
5
No Better Life
Most Legion canteens were as rigidly ordered as the organization itself. There was a head table—or, in some cases, a private dining room—for the angel and higher officers. And then rows upon rows of rectangular tables for all the other soldiers.
From the beginning, I’d decided that my canteen was going to be different. Here in the Legion’s Purgatory office, we ate at cozy round tables, surrounded by our friends. Angels and officers and soldiers and guests could all sit together, regardless of rank or title. There was no head table at all. Call me a rebel, but I liked to have some choice of where I could sit, not be stuck in my assigned seat.
This morning, I sat with Basanti and Alec at a mostly empty table. The other attendees of our little breakfast party had yet to arrive.
“Hey, Major, are you going to eat those hash browns?” Alec asked Basanti.
Lieutenant Alec Morrows was one of the Legion’s walking talking battering rams. He was built strong and talked tough, but underneath all that muscle and all the lewd jokes, he had a good heart. He preferred heavy artillery—and shooting monsters with it. Alec had a raunchy sense of humor, and you had to take everything he said with a grain of salt.
Basanti had been staring off into the room, obviously lost in thought, but Alec’s words brought her back into the here and now. “Yes, I’m going to eat them, Morrows.” She plunged her fork into the hash browns in question, staking her claim. “That’s why I put them on my plate.”
Basanti had served the Legion for over a century. She’d seen a lot, done a lot, and didn’t take any shit from anyone.
“Shame.” Alec’s gaze slid over to my overflowing plate.
“Forget it,” I told him, skewering a strawberry.
“Sharing is caring, Leda.”
“Spoken like someone who wants something.”
Beside me, Basanti snorted.
My canteen’s free-choice seating was about so much more than where you got to sit. It was about choosing your own friends. It was about not allowing invisible boundaries to keep you apart. Angels were always set so far above everyone that they were left completely isolated, completely alone. Their only company was other angels, and most of them wanted to stab one another in the back. That’s probably why most angels were so damn inhuman.
Basanti had known me since I’d joined the Legion of Angels; in fact, when I’d been an initiate, she’d served as one of my trainers. And Alec had known me nearly as long. In a normal Legion office, it wouldn’t have mattered. As soon as I’d become an angel, they’d have put me on a pedestal, high and holy above everyone. So high and holy above everyone, in fact, that few people would have dared speak to me.
That wasn’t the kind of angel I wanted to be. I didn’t want to be alone. I wanted to be surrounded by friends. Always and forever. Because friends mattered so much more than proving what a badass I was.
“Here.” I tossed Alec one of my muffins.
He caught it. His eyes looked down at it, then up at me, his brow furrowing in suspicion. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing,” I assured him.
“Then why are you sharing it with me?”
I smirked at him. “I’m feeling particularly magnanimous this morning.”
He took a bite, and, when it didn’t kill him, he took another. “You sure are in a good mood. Maybe you should go away more often.”
Basanti elbowed him in the shoulder.
“Ow, woman! That hurt!” he complained.
“You’ll live.” Her dark eyes sparkled; her lips curled. “But if you’re rude, Leda will smite you.”
Alec looked at me. “Will you really do that?” He pretended to look frightened.
“I’m not even sure how to smite people,” I admitted. “But when I find out, you’ll be the first person I find.” I winked at him.
He chuckled, then tossed what was left of the muffin into his mouth. All Legion soldiers had a hearty appetite. Due to all our magic and all the running around we did, we burned through food like we breathed in air. But Alec was special. He could eat twice as much dinner as the typical soldier and still be hungry for dessert.
A chorus of catcalls interrupted Alec’s search for food. I glanced over at the door—and the source of the commotion.
Ivy and Drake had just entered the canteen. Ivy had the figure of a supermodel, the shimmering hair of a goddess, and the compassion of everyone’s best friend. Drake was professional yet funny, and handsome yet boyish. Both Ivy and Drake had their fair share of admirers. A few of those admirers now shouted out their congratulations. Drake had recently been promoted to level five and Ivy to level four.
Basanti’s eyes panned across the room. “Their arrival has caused a great deal of hoopla.”
“Purgatory is a new office, and Ivy and Drake are our first promotions.” Alec glanced at me and bowed his head. “Besides our illustrious Pandora. But you became an angel before you were promoted. And before there was an office here.” He frowned. “You know, Leda, you always do everything out of order.”
“And we love her for it,” Ivy said as she and Drake sat down at the table, their food trays fully loaded.
I arched my brows at her. “Stockpiling for the winter?”
“For the day,” Ivy replied. “I expect I won’t find time to eat again today.”
Ivy had been especially busy lately. Living on the chaotic Frontier had come as a big change for most of the Legion soldiers, who were so accustomed to order. Ivy was helping them adjust. She was the Legion’s counselor in Purgatory.
Her real name was Ivy Downs, but she didn’t want people to think of her as Dr. Downs. She wanted to make people happy, not depressed. So she’d told people to call her Dr. Happy. She’d even stuck a happy face pin to her jacket.
“You have time to see me later today, doc?” Alec asked her.
“Sorry, my schedule’s full.”
“But I’m so despondent.” Alec put on a sad face. “And I need cheering up.” He pretended to look at the happy face pin on her jacket, but we all knew he was really staring at her breasts.
Drake thumped him on the back to adjust his gaze. “Is Nerissa joining us today?”